Abaven was gone, which left Soul pretty adrift. More so than maybe other wolves, his father was gone and he had only the vaguest memories of his mother beyond that, certainly nothing he could use to try and find her. Not that he was totally sure he wanted to, there had to be a reason he'd ended up with Beat instead of his mother. When Soul had been a child he hadn't really ever questioned it but now that he was an adult he could understand well enough that it wasn't exactly typical for a father to raise such a young pup on his own. And Beat had been an amazing father, and Soul would never change his mind on that. But he had never really spoken of Soul's mother, and so he had nothing to go off of. Which left Soul with- Well, nothing really. Abaven was gone, and Soul had nowhere to go. So he walked. Soul hadn't had much chance to explore the world beyond the packlands before so the going was slow, and he had to move carefully, getting a feel for the changes in the world around him. It was strange just how different so much of the world could really be from what he was used to. Except for water, Soul knew the telltale sounds and scents of running water and it was ultimately a comfort to him. Once upon a time, he'd been told to steer clear of the water, when he'd been young and small and the rushing rivers of Abaven's lands had been especially dangerous to him. Now he was a strong enough swimmer and though he could not see how deep the water was nor how far away the other bank was he was confident enough in his abilities to at the very least keep closer to the bank, keeping the water on his left side as he traveled. The thing about that was with the weather battering the coasts of Boreas many of the rivers had swollen their banks and soon enough Soul found himself wading through mud. Still, the rushing sounds told him it was too dangerous to try and wash up where he was and so Soul had kept moving. It was a few days more when Soul finally stopped, unsure exactly how far he'd traveled, or even exactly where he was. There was some pack scent nearby but not close enough to be of a worry to him yet and more importantly, the sounds of the river had changed, while water still ran the sounds weren't as harsh here, there was a softer bassier quality that told him the river was probably deeper and wider here, turning what was a channel of rushing water into something more manageable. It was probably as good a time as any to try and get himself cleaned up. Soul approached the shore slowly, feeling the loamy soil beneath his paws and slowly testing the ground as he moved. Finally, he could feel the edge of the river, the ground dropping away under his paw some and Soul cautiously moved one foreleg into the water, assuring his footing was secure on the rocky shallows, before the next foreleg, then the next leg, and the next until he was finally standing in the shallows, feeling the water tugging at his fur and the dried clumps of mud starting to loosen. WC: 568 (568/1500) "Speech"

Art by Ulfeid3

This location was also quite foreign to her. Foreign... An amusing word, considering she was the one alien to the land. It took a few tries to really accept this. The wolves she had encountered had been assistive, helpful... Yet she did not want to remain around them for long. It had been a culture shock, and continued to be one. It would be that way for some time until she adjusted to the situation she found herself in. Angel walked to where she heard water running, the muck on her gold coat something disgusting to her. With her trade caravan in the wind, the members scattered... It was time to clean herself up and move on. Yes, she could mope. She could complain. She could bitch. But where would that get her? Nowhere, and nothing important would come of it! Spotting movement, she ducked behind some foliage before peeking out. A dark hued man, another wolf, was walking into the water. She decided to approach. No, she was not brave. Angel was not a bold woman in a strange land. But she needed to clean herself up. Make herself presentable. "Bonjour, monsieur" she prattled in her native tongue before remembering they did not speak French here. At least, to her knowledge anyway... "is this river taken?" she added, trying not to be too coy; some men were not into it. Ever the entertainer, Angelique sought to keep her company amused and content. No matter the gender she found herself with, she could easily charm. But wolves? Heathens, uncouth! Why did she even bother? Simple. She had to survive here. For as long as it took to obtain passage back home. And if she had to use some folks along the way? More of a boon for her. She would do what it takes to make sure she survived this ordeal. "Talk, 'Think.' 311 words