Somehow she was still here. She didn't know how or why, but she was keen on taking advantage of it while she still could. Somehow she felt even more present now than she had since she'd died. Sure, she didn't quite feel fully physical- she felt no hunger, no pain, no fatigue. She simply felt her existence in a way she hadn't in many, many years. Instead of gliding over lands once familiar to her as if she was in a dreamlike state, she actually walked now, she could even see her paws hitting the ground when she looked down. It was a curious thing, and though she couldn't explain it or understand why she was able to return now she figured she ought to enjoy this semblance of existence while she still was able... not that the afterlife was worth complaining about, but it wasn't like she could take a vacation from it at will. As silent as a mouse she drifted over the plains that she knew as well as the back of her paw, even in the darkness she had no trouble navigating. She just wondered who she might find here, walking beneath the moonlight and weaving among the crystals and fungi.

His paws tread softly as he stalked a deer fawn that looked like it was actually normal. He’d seen the doe slipping away, and she’d looked healthy, too. No oozing, glowing tears or mucus, no crystals or fungus sprouting from her hide or eyes or ears. Would this saga of a plague ever end? His eyes glanced up fleetingly to the sky, the clearest thing in the land that had become even more shrouded than the Moor—hell, the Moor was almost impassable these nights. It had never been a very fog-free place and now stepping into the land he’d been birthed in was like walking through a snow-bank. The fawn bolted with a bleat, and he clicked his tongue in disappointment. Too soon to land a clean, humane kill. Straightening, he watched the young deer flee, then glanced around to see what had spooked it. When he clapped eyes on her, he stilled, studying her closely. The woman walked with a familiarity of someone coming home after a very long time gone, and… perhaps as though she hadn’t known she’d ever be back. To look upon her though, he almost thought it was his mother. Close… Deep down, he knew her. She’d been described to him so often—he’d described her so often in retelling of the stories. But, uh… he was wide awake. “... Epiphron?” The question was in his tone, and the caution in his posture, though he stood firm and tall. Maybe she was just a particularly blasé loner who looked exactly like his grandmother? Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

No longer the same density as the fog that clung heavy to Boreas, Epiphron walked freely through it, pleased to watch it part in response to her movements. It'd been so long since she'd felt like this; the afterlife was different than the world she'd grown used to prior to her death. It was dreamlike and mystical, different than she ever imagined, and this place was a stark contrast.. yet it still held some ethereal qualities. Yet even in death she knew the strange glowing flora and fauna weren't to be trusted. Hopefully her ancestors knew as much too and were staying out of danger's way.

When someone came across her path she paused. She was no longer capable of the more extreme emotions that she'd fought to keep carefully locked inside during the course of her life- there was no surprise, no overwhelming surge of joy, no fear of this world being jerked away from her abruptly. Instead she allowed a smile, able to steal a moment of quiet enjoyment at the arrival of a wolf that was far healthier than the previous one she'd met. "That's my name," she responded simply. Even her voice seemed more like she remembered it, as it touched her ears. Strange. "And you are...?" It seemed likely he must be an Adravendi himself, given how long she'd been gone from this world. Though Epiphron would've loved her name being spoken for lifetimes to come, she knew it was highly unlikely her legacy was as known among wolves not her family.

It was one more strange thing atop a mountain of strangeness but, for once… it was pleasant. Concerning, in the back of his mind – what if he was hallucinating this encounter? – but pleasant. This truly was his grandmother… maybe. His similarities to his namesake were striking, even if his pattern was different, and he stepped closer, ears perking forward as he introduced, with some irony, “Cairo Adravendi.” What would the supposed to be dead woman do with that information? Or, perhaps this, like himself, was a living wolf, a cousin, who had been named for his grandmother. The possibility was there, but most would generally call at the wall to introduce themselves. Well… unless they were just so arrogant as to assume a name meant they had the right to stroll across Valhallan land like they owned it without speaking to Aurielle and being welcomed first. Family or not, such arrogance was unattractive, and he was glad none of his own blood had been as cocky as to make the assumption. Artur’s features flitted across his mind, and he wondered if his brothers had avoided the sickness. What of Meri’s kids? So much to worry about, and it made him tired. Maybe this was all just some lapse in wakefulness and he really was asleep. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

It was no surprise her family was faring well in this strange plague - at least this one family member. The Adravendi were known for being... not cautious persay, but careful, self-preserving. Epiphron was happy to see that trait had persisted long past her death. Something that looked like amusement flickered over her pale features at his introduction. Even if she had not become a legend as she'd once hoped, at least her dear father had; he deserved it if no one else had. "Cairo was the name of my father," she explained, though she was certain he already knew that. "You look a lot like him." Mostly she was just glad to hear the sound of her own voice, uncertain how much longer she'd be this.. present. She'd take advantage of it while she could.

She knew it wouldn't be forever, though she was sure she wouldn't want to stay here for that long anyway. She'd lived more than enough life to know what it entailed - she'd known pain and pleasure, she'd known love and heartache and betrayal. None of it was anything she wanted to relive, though she often longed for the more simple things now. The feeling of sunlight on her back; the chill of an autumn morning. The feeling of her children was one she'd missed the most, those warm noses burying deep in her neck to soak up the warmth of a cold night. She thought of them more often than anything, though she'd reunited with them all now in the afterlife it was a different experience entirely than what it'd been like in this world. "Is this place called Valhalla still?" Knowing her family it would be, unless something drastic had changed.

He studied the woman, half smiling as she spoke. “My mother was your daughter, Gwenevere. She named me for him. It’s a big set of pawprints to fill.” He did his best to live up to the memory of the man he’s been named for, to live with humility instead of arrogance. Would he be seeing Cairo, as well? His grandmother asked a question, and he nodded. “It stands. Surreal revived it under the name Celestial, which you were alive to know, I think? It stood as Celestial until our current Queen, Aurielle Adravendi, daughter of Regulus, stepped into her reign. She’s been my mentor since I was younger.” Another step closer brought him to stand fully before the Adravendi Ancestress, a good bit taller than her, still studying her, drinking in the sight. She was the same height as Aurielle, and, barring the faint sense that she wasn’t completely there, even if she wasn’t a gauzy figure, naturally colored, one ear and one foot dipped in auburn. He knew from description that, were her sister Chrysanthe standing beside her, it would be almost like putting two pieces of the same stone together where it’d broken apart—Chrysanthe’s face was painted in the same auburn, but one ear was white. He could see his mother in her, too. Or… see her in his mother’s features as he could remember them. The blue eyes, the auburn brown coloring, some of the build. Cautiously, he asked, “Is… is my mother coming, too?” Could he allow himself to hope as much? Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Epiphron

You smell a scent and remember you can scent mark too! Better do it while you still can.

Gwenevere was his mother. Ah yes, of course; she knew that her daughter had given birth to children of her own, somewhat later in life compared to Epiphron's own experience. "Cairo was a good man," she explained slowly. "You're lucky to have his name." She had no doubt that his mother had seen in him something like the grandfather she'd never had the privilege of knowing. Perhaps he was a natural leader like her own father had been; a caretaker at heart who would sacrifice everything for those he loved. Even if had just a fraction of her father's spirit he would amount to be a great man, and she didn't doubt that he would. It seemed he understood living up to the legacy of his namesake was no easy task but she hoped it would be a comfort to him rather than a burden too heavy for him to carry.

She was glad to know that Valhalla had stood the test of time, at least in one form or another, and it was no surprise than one of Erani's descendants was responsible. Epiphron allowed herself a small smile. The question he asked next tugged faintly at her heartstrings. She could not lie to him, as badly as she wanted to reassure him. "Truthfully, I don't know. I'm not sure why I'm here - though I'm sure it won't be for long." Already she felt the fabric between reality and the afterlife beginning to pull taut; she felt the world slowly shifting in and out of focus. "I didn't choose to come back. It just happened. If your mother could will herself to be here, talking to you again, I know with all my heart that she would be." Her smile was warm and comforting, and she hoped her answer didn't cause him too much pain. The truth was that she was just as mystified as how she was here talking to her grandson as he was, though she knew nothing was permanent and this likely would end before she realized it.