a mess of these old themes
10-25-2024, 12:44 PM
With emotions running high and a burning in her chest, Hazel had gone. She'd gone, without planning what would come next. Going after Halo was the only thing she could have done at the time. Now? Well, there was news. There are wolves who deserved to know, and she's the only messenger who could deliver that news. Arthritis had taken hold early, and travel back to Auster would be too much. Leaving her in Warden's capable care, Hazel took off.
The sight she arrived to was nothing short of unsettling. Echoes of the long night still hanging over her shoulders, though it was early in her recollection. Far too early to have any clear idea of what had gone on, but unsettling all the same. Her stomach twisted as she moved through familiar lands, finding a strange, open expanse where none had been before. For as much as she longed for news of Spider and Sirius, this was... well, this had to be dealt with first.
Focusing on the task at hand, Hazel enters the Prominence. Careful steps as she scans the bleak landscape, gaze razor sharp. Weaving among the spires as she edges deeper into the land. A distraction. Maybe not an ideal distraction, but a distraction all the same. Good enough. Redder than the reddest dawns, despite it being near high noon, Hazel searches for answers among the spires.
Hazel, The General
The sight she arrived to was nothing short of unsettling. Echoes of the long night still hanging over her shoulders, though it was early in her recollection. Far too early to have any clear idea of what had gone on, but unsettling all the same. Her stomach twisted as she moved through familiar lands, finding a strange, open expanse where none had been before. For as much as she longed for news of Spider and Sirius, this was... well, this had to be dealt with first.
Focusing on the task at hand, Hazel enters the Prominence. Careful steps as she scans the bleak landscape, gaze razor sharp. Weaving among the spires as she edges deeper into the land. A distraction. Maybe not an ideal distraction, but a distraction all the same. Good enough. Redder than the reddest dawns, despite it being near high noon, Hazel searches for answers among the spires.
10-27-2024, 06:41 AM
He parted from Oleander and Spider to do some exploring of his own. If they were insistent on being a bit more dangerous, he wanted no part of it. It probably wasn't wise of him to leave the Heir and lead healer of the Armada alone, but he wasn't their bodyguard. Wasn't their keepers. If they wanted one, they should've asked someone else.
Walking slowly, his matching red gaze sweeping from one spire to the next, he takes note of everything. How the spires reached up toward the blood-red sky, tilting at different angles in no such direction. They appeared metal in nature, rusted along the sharp edges and smooth around the holes stretched through them. Closer to the ground, when the holes stopped, carvings began to peak up through the disturbed dirt. Seemingly pushing through the earth as if it were no trouble at all, these towers commanded notice.
Still unsure whether he should be inspecting the spires themselves or the ground they protruded through, Wilder notices the girl also wandering through. His gaze lingers on her a moment before letting out a calling chuff. Maybe she has some ideas.
"What do ya think of it?" Wilder asks as he nears closer to her.
"Wilder"
Walking slowly, his matching red gaze sweeping from one spire to the next, he takes note of everything. How the spires reached up toward the blood-red sky, tilting at different angles in no such direction. They appeared metal in nature, rusted along the sharp edges and smooth around the holes stretched through them. Closer to the ground, when the holes stopped, carvings began to peak up through the disturbed dirt. Seemingly pushing through the earth as if it were no trouble at all, these towers commanded notice.
Still unsure whether he should be inspecting the spires themselves or the ground they protruded through, Wilder notices the girl also wandering through. His gaze lingers on her a moment before letting out a calling chuff. Maybe she has some ideas.
"What do ya think of it?" Wilder asks as he nears closer to her.
10-28-2024, 01:58 PM
An ache so deep it lives in her bloodstream, as she walks the strange, newly emerged land. She'd known Boreas like the back of her hand, intimately, deeply. The lands that she'd been born to, abandoned in, bruised on, and broken by... the trail by fire that she'd walked and conquered. But where did it leave her? Alone, under a red sky, with more questions than answers. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her return would be rocky but this? This is... something else. Something far more grave than she could have anticipated.
Not alone for long. A large man fading from the shadows, joining her with a greeting that's not unfriendly. Put your hackles down, he's not trying to be a dick-- right. The strangeness of the entire thing has Hazel on edge. It seemed warranted, given the circumstances, but she rearranges her defensive posture into something more neutral as the man nears. "Dunno yet... it's not good, whatever it is." Even if that much was obvious, it's about as far as she's gotten. "How long has this been going on? I just returned and everything was.... like this." Not her usual eloquent self, forgive her.
As the breeze shifts and she can smell him, her heart skips a beat. Hazel knows the scent of the woods, those woods like she knows her own mind. "You're from the Armada." An observation, her face stoic, though there's a little tremor in her voice. "I-- you know Spider?" a more careful observation, as she tries to assemble her thoughts. Heart rattling in her chest, trying to put together a coherent thought. After everything had crumbled in her hands, would they even want to see her? Was she going to resort to asking a stranger in the middle of a hellscape how her only child was doing?
Hazel, The General
Not alone for long. A large man fading from the shadows, joining her with a greeting that's not unfriendly. Put your hackles down, he's not trying to be a dick-- right. The strangeness of the entire thing has Hazel on edge. It seemed warranted, given the circumstances, but she rearranges her defensive posture into something more neutral as the man nears. "Dunno yet... it's not good, whatever it is." Even if that much was obvious, it's about as far as she's gotten. "How long has this been going on? I just returned and everything was.... like this." Not her usual eloquent self, forgive her.
As the breeze shifts and she can smell him, her heart skips a beat. Hazel knows the scent of the woods, those woods like she knows her own mind. "You're from the Armada." An observation, her face stoic, though there's a little tremor in her voice. "I-- you know Spider?" a more careful observation, as she tries to assemble her thoughts. Heart rattling in her chest, trying to put together a coherent thought. After everything had crumbled in her hands, would they even want to see her? Was she going to resort to asking a stranger in the middle of a hellscape how her only child was doing?