Light spreads out across the crumbling stone as the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon. Rays of pink and purple covered every inch that it could. Warming the earth and all its nooks and crannies. Summer was refusing to fade. Though this one hadn't been as warm as the last, he could tell that today had been its last attempt at being hot. He felt it in his damp fur as he lay in the shade. Large paws stretched out, toes spreading and moving some grass around until he peeked out between the blades. With the abundance of rain that had fallen recently had come the overabundance of plants. Herbs and flowers from what he could tell, but he wasn't much for those sorts of things. Letting out a sigh, he watched the blades of grass and leaves flutter from in front of his muzzle. His red eyes lazily move over the landscape, slightly bleary and blinking slowly as if he might fall asleep at any moment. He even allows a quick yawn to open his muzzle and reveal a darkened liver-colored tongue that flexes and slides along his teeth before his lips close over them once more. When he looks around again, he realizes something. This garden, or ruins, whatever they wanted to call it, was quite pleasant when the year brought heavy rains. He presses his paws into the ground as he rolls onto his side, stretching out his long legs and appreciating the dampness of the soft dirt that moves and shifts beneath his heavy weight. When he rests his cheek upon a warm stone, he continues to watch the sky around him. Stars begin to sprinkle the sky as the birds go to bed and the bats begin to swoop around for bugs. A delicate breeze ruffles his thick fur with its mud-clumped patches. Pleasant. It was the perfect word to describe this twilight evening as he watched his surroundings. Content to stay here awhile and soak in the humidity that clings to him. "Speak."

Summer. Meadow likes the summer, actually. Sure, it's sticky and humid, maybe not her most favorite things, but the herbs grew in summer. The herbs and the plants... this was the first year she was really old enough to go looking for them on her own. Now that she was in her own room, too, she was safe from the prying eyes of anyone who told her that maybe we should return some of those books to Gwyn's library before taking out new ones. She was free to stack the references beside each other and pour over the pages and that was just wonderful-- wasn't it! A borrowed basket clutched firmly in her teeth, the girl set out to make use of the warmth and daylight hours. They wouldn't last forever, and winter would come soon. If she was lucky, she'd be able to find plants that were prevalent and healthy enough to repot in her room, though she supposed that they'd need sunlight. Maybe auntie Gwyn would have a solution... the plants needed adequate sunlight, but Meadow tended to shy away from letting too much light into her living space. She's lost in thought as she browses through the herbs, perusing intently. The girl gathered some elderberries into her basket, but was disappointed to find the plant small and perhaps not the healthiest specimen. A little scowl on her face, she reached to prune away some unhealthy, sad looking leaves. There's tenderness in the way she regards the plant, but then, it's the same tenderness she often shows to living things. With a sigh, she steps back, growing more aware of the heat as it clings to her coat, the dampness as it clings to her paws. But then... that's not the only thing that she picks up on. As Meadow realizes that she's not as alone as she initially thought, she freezes. "Speech"

Rustle, rustle. Huh, must just be a mouse. Wilder doesn't move. His eyes still linger around the scenery. How the leaves are slowly turning brown around the edges and everything seems a bit more droopy. Even though the rain has provided plenty for the surrounding areas, autumn will still bring the end of life cycles. He knows that, the animals know that, and everyone knows it. When he looks around, he can see how the squirrels hurry to stash away food. How the rabbits dig out their burrows. Even predators like bears lumber around, getting fat for when winter comes.

Content to be lazy and daydream about having a snack, Wilder is suddenly surprised when someone's scent catches his attention. Lifting his blocky head, he blinks slowly against the bright sunlight that streams down. Had the rustling not been a mouse? Perhaps a deer? But what he scented was a wolf. A girl wolf. More interested now, he finally spots her decently close to him. The basket held between her teeth has him more interested than staring at the bushes and blades of grass. Still, he stays lying and merely gives her an impish smile.

"Pretty thing, what're you doing?" He asks in that 'not quite a man, but I'm trying' vocal tones.

"Speech"

Perhaps she is more a field mouse than a wolf some days. Some days… well, Meadow doesn’t know for sure. At least she has her wits about her. She was trying to remember how to use her words, trying to fight though the wall that kept her from them. Fighting, needing make it out on the other side. Meadow was trying. She offered a slight, dreamy smile in response to the boy. Gentle. Always gentle.

“P-picking herbs,” she finally managed shyly. Offering him a gentle smile, a little giggle in regards to her own nervousness. How silly that she was nervous. Meadow willed herself to relax. “W-What about you?” She was going for friendly, gentle, dreamy. Who knew if she’d hit her mark.

He lays there, limbs strewn across the grass, staring at the pixie-like girl. When she smiles at him, his heart almost stops for a moment. Man, how dreamy was that smile. But then his eyes narrow slightly. Why was she smiling at him like that? Did she think him handsome? Him of all wolves? Stuck in his own head about the question, he barely registers her gentle and soft voice. Still reeling and tumbling over her appearance and how she looked at him, he has to give his head a shake to remove himself from his daydream.

She'd asked him a question. What was he doing? Oh, right. Well, he looks around and then gives her a shrug. "Not much, just lounging," he manages to respond though his tongue feels sticky in his mouth. Must be the weather. Yeah, definitely the weather.  Not that it was any sort of hot anymore. With the humid summer coming to an end and the pollen in the trees dying off, there was no reason for his mouth to feel so... dry. Even as he lets his gaze flicker away from the girl to glance at the crumbling stone and the variety of wildflowers, another question comes to mind.

"Did you happen to fall from Heaven or do you hail from somewhere else?" Wilder's flirtatious smirk is back as he lets his ruby gaze linger on her feminine and delicate features.

"Speech"

Did she? Maybe. Shh. Meadow's observations were largely academic-- he is mossy and burly. His features are rugged and handsome, and she won't let that soft gaze linger too long. No, no-- wait was that moss? Did it live in his coat? Meadow catches herself on the brink of staring, and then reminds herself that it's rude. She can't stare, though she's near-fascinated by the boy. A stiff breeze lifts the heavy, stagnant air around them. Meadow remembers herself.

Or... does she? Does she remember herself? Sorta... not when he starts talking again. Heaven? That's not a pack she's familiar with, and her brow crinkles for just a moment. He's making a joke, you've read about heaven. Right, yeah he was. Instead the girl tries to pull something together from the cloudy, shy thoughts that ricochet between her ears. "Just the Hallows," she spoke softly, offering a little smile to go with it. Right, she could do this socializing thing. It couldn't be that hard, right?

"I'm Meadow. I like your moss." Right, her name, a compliment... she was actually feeling okay about this. The shy smile doesn't falter, although Meadow isn't keen enough to step closer. Though the green on the boy's pelt wasn't actually moss... she doesn't know that yet. Meadow just likes plants.

Her voice is a soft whisper on the wind that barely reaches his ears. The Hallows. Was that the pack that lived nearby? In the castle? It was a castle right? A brow lifts, his body repositioning slightly more so he can get a better look at her. Was she sure she wasn't from heaven? Well, if she said she wasn't, he'd have to believe her, right?

Kind of lost in thought, he is taken by surprise when she introduces herself and compliments him. Both ears perk up and he blinks a few times. Moss? Turning to check his fur, he lets out a laugh. "It's not moss, but it can look like it, huh?" He asks, his smile widening as he turns to look back at her. Stretching out his paws against the grass, he releases a yawn before rolling up onto those too large paws. "Well Meadow, the name's Wilder," he takes a step toward her, lowering his head so its more on her level. "What kinda herbs you after?" Wilder asks, head canting to the side as he perhaps gets a little too far into her bubble.

WILDER

He's being too nice to her, Meadow is pretty certain. She's not used to it, and has a hard time meeting his gaze. The attention enough to leave her shifting over her feet just a little... but she doesn't flee. She doesn't leave or go, instead just... listens. Why was she leaning in like this? Wilder. He's wilder than anything Meadow was pretty sure she'd ever been this close to. Wilder than anyone she's ever been this close to. Her breath catching in her throat. Heck. Not moss, but instead of being offended or embarrassed he seemed... endeared? Is that the right feeling?

Heart beating a little louder than maybe she expected, Meadow fought to remember her manners. "It's nice to meet you Wilder," though her words were still soft. Close. Closer. In her personal space, though Wilder was trying to get more on her level as well. Could he hear her pulse from there? Meadow didn't think it unlikely. She's still smiling.

"Just some elderberries," looking up at him with her gaze wide, Meadow is happy to divert attention to the plants. "Have you seen any?" Maybe he'd share, if he knew. And with how sad the other specimen looked, maybe others also needed pruning. Maybe. Plants are easier than boys.