It was cold straight down to his bones up here. He hadn't realized how lucky he was down in Auster until he'd thrown it all away to explore Boreas to try and get down to the bottom of whatever was happening here - but the bottom eluded him. Answers evaded. The deeper he went, the further he realized he was from any answers at all. It was... discouraging. He was becoming uncharacteristically pigheaded about it all, hellbent on having something worthwhile to bring home the further away from Tojo-Kai he ventured. If he came home now with nothing, would any of this have been worth it? He couldn't face his father. He couldn't face his siblings.

He needed answers.

Which left him here, freezing straight through his skin as he crept across the frozen lake towards the next clue. The S. S. Antiox - what he had determined from local wolves making the same trek was some sort of ship that had become landlocked long ago - was the next epicenter of tremors and activity. He could barely see straight through the thick blanket of fog that hung low across the ice. It came down from the mountains behind him, pouring off of its face like water and spilling into the valley below. All that was left between him and the northern sea were his thoughts and this blasted fog. Katsu's feline yellow eyes were slit against the cold and moisture, but still it eked in from the sides. His tear ducts burned and watered with it. With the fog and impenetrable blanket of white snow as far as the eye could see, he could hardly place one paw in front of the other without second guessing himself. He would be easy enough to spot at a distance: his fiery back and shoulders were a beacon in the mist, even if his white coat offered better camouflage than most. From a great enough distance, he appeared to be sentient viscera crossing the snow. Bloodied and raw. Only on closer inspection might a stranger realize he was simply colored in shades of red and orange, not a walking half-corpse.

A tree erupted right in front of his face, causing him to stumble back and shout. Where had that come from? It had simply parted the fog, rudely placing itself right into his path. Katsu was breathing hard, each inhale prickling his lungs with painfully cold air. Surely this weather would give soon...

As soon as the thought occurred to him, a light drizzle began, picking up momentum until it turned into an ugly, wet sleet. "No, no..." he groaned, bracing himself against what little shelter the very top of this scrubby tree peeking up from beneath the ice had to offer. For just a moment, he would rest. Catch his breath.

"speech"

wc: 467

coded by NachoMumma

Restlessness. A serpent of rage that tightened and writhed, biting at her insides with the poison of her brother’s betrayal. It gnawed at her. She’d been cast aside like a forgotten trinket. Her.

Seeking comfort from their mother was unthinkable—a bitter thought that made her lips pull back in a cold, mirthless smile. No, she would burn this anger into ashes with action, not cling to the softness of fleeting comfort. Months of solitude had proven effective at sharpening her edges, hardening her heart. Now, she did what she wanted. No one held the reins of her life, and it would remain that way.

The world around her was locked in winter’s unforgiving embrace. The north. The frozen expanse stretched outward, interrupted only by a fog that crawled along the ground like a living thing. It breathed in sluggish waves, curling this way and that, masking the way forward in a blinding shroud. Each step she took seemed to erase the one before, smothered by the ever-thickening haze. It seeped into her mind, goading on the chill of her thoughts, which turned darker with each passing moment.

The notion of becoming lost within it tempted her—a gamble with fate, a dance with the unknown. She’d enjoyed it as a child, and now her potential was a burning flame she could use to set anything and anyone alight. A slow grin cut across her maw, the soft lines of her features disappearing into a malicious sneer. Perhaps within this white abyss, she’d stumble upon something worthy of her amusement.

Her sharp eyes scanned the roiling mist, but the fog was dense as wool, immediately swallowing her sight. Still, she pressed forward, every pawstep sending a muted crunch echoing into nothingness. Her breath formed thin clouds before being devoured by the curtain. The world beyond was a mystery, but she welcomed it; her pulse quickening, her slender figure prowling forward.

Then, amidst the suffocating blanket of white, a shape—a lone figure moving with the slow, uneven gait of one who had lost their bearings. Blood streaked his fur—at least, she thought so, for the fog played cruel tricks with the light, morphing the mundane into the grotesque. Her thoughts slithered within her mind, devoid of empathy, alive with cold curiosity. Who was this stranger to dare exist in her space of wrath? And what if they did not meet her expectations? The thought alone twisted a smile onto her face, mirroring the obsessive gleam in her silvery eyes. Only one way to find out.

Illusion advanced, light as shadow, each step a taunt. The fog thickened, clinging to her, obscuring the world until all that remained was the hunted and the huntress. She could barely make out the outline of the figure, hunched against the wind that carried icy sleet. The world shrank, the sting of frozen needles against her skin, and the silence shattered only by the muffled sound of sleet hitting the ground.

“Lost?” she called out, her voice a melodic purr, eyes glistening with cruel delight. The sleet clung to her dark fur, dripping down her frame like silvered rivers, accentuating the wiry strength beneath her framework. But, whether he could make out her presence or not remained to be seen. Even now, her own vision was failing—but a predator had their other senses for a reason. And she had not approached with pure intentions. “You seem like you could use some company.” A burst of exhilaration took hold, and she lunged, claws splayed and lips peeled back in a giggle as she attempted to tackle the lost stranger. Her purpose? Uncertain. Violence for the sake of violence was boring, but maybe this time would be different.

WC: 618
"Illusion Nightwing"

The sleet was cutting through his coat as easily as a sharp knife sliced through silk. He felt every drop straight down to the skin. The sensation was excruciating - not necessarily pain, but just overwhelming feeling. In no time at all the chill built to such an intensity that his body was racked with shivers. His teeth chattered together loudly, the only sound he could hear over the thick blanket of snow that seemed to absorb all noise. He tried to center himself, focus on his breathing... The rhythm of it. The sharpness of the cold air in his lungs. Snow was wedged so deeply between his paw pads now that it was almost physically painful. As soon as this rain let up, he would quickly make his way out of the area. For now, Kat shrunk closer to the trunk of the tree, trying desperately to find better coverage.

Then a sweet song emerged from the fog, and he was sure that he had died and was being called into the next plane. Lost? Came the call, soft and lilting. Kat peered through the mist, craning his head out from beneath the sparse tree coverage. He couldn't see a thing, it was as impenetrable as a stone wall. "I'm just trying... to catch my breath," he panted, straining so hard to see through the fog that his eyes began to buzz with exertion.

You seem like you could use some company... Katsu didn't have time to react before a giggling angel (demon?) burst through the grey to drag him back to heaven (hell?). He sputtered, Illusion's comparably small weight still hitting him hard and fast when he wasn't prepared for it. Kat reeled back beneath the tree canopy, slamming into the frozen trunk and gasping as the air was knocked clean out of him. An involuntary snarl, guttural and primal, erupted from him. Spittle flew. He wasn't used to being taken by surprise - he prided himself on his composure. His honor. Kat struggled blindly against his opponent, feeling Illusion out only to realize a few things at once: she was markedly smaller than him, and this was a girl. A strange girl. He shuddered, pinned between her and the tree, and swallowed his snarl. The warmth of her was undeniable in this frigid wasteland, but she'd also clearly attacked him - his mind raced. Small. Girl. Vicious. Need to be... Need to do...

What was honor if someone ran at you, unguarded and weak? Honor would be to... protect himself. He could ask questions once she was subdued.

Katsu heaved his shoulder against her, putting all of his weight behind it to shove her off of him. In the same motion, he snaked his jaw around to try and grab her roughly by the scruff. If he could get her scruffed, he could easily pin her based on size difference alone. Then he could... his mind blanked. He wasn't sure what would come next, just that he needed space and she needed to be controlled.

"speech"
wc: 516 - seasonal count met!

coded by NachoMumma

Ravana felt the tremor in his limbs, a shudder that came from somewhere deep within—more than cold, more than the sting of sleet slicing through her fur. It was exhilarating, sharp and jolting, spurred by the way the male moved beneath her. Desperate, uncertain, so very alive.

His snarl cracked the frigid silence, vibrating against her paws as they pressed into his chest. Ravana's lilac eyes glistened, a spark of delight igniting in their silver depths. The cold gnawed at her, wedging its way through her body with a venomous bite, but she welcomed it, embraced it, let it sink into her bones until it became another weapon. She was as unfeeling as that very cold, in her element.

When he lunged with the intent to regain control, she felt the shift—the sudden surge of power as he shoved his weight against her. It thrilled her, sending a rush of heat through her veins. His jaw snapped at her, teeth aiming for her scruff, but she twisted with a dancer’s grace, evading the clamp (but only just) with a teasing laugh.

“Oh, you do have fire,” she murmured, voice lilting, almost sing-song as she leaned back just out of reach, her paws skimming over the cold earth. The challenge in his eyes only widened her wicked grin. “Show me more? Anyways, moving is the best way to keep warm in the cold.” That and cuddling up with a stranger, but she rather this option.

She pressed forward again, feinting left, then swiping at him from the right with a playful slap of her paw. Not enough to wound, but enough to sting, to test his reaction, to keep him guessing—if it landed.


"Illusion Nightwing"

The minute she danced out of his grasp, Katsu wondered what the hell he had been thinking. It still rankled him that she had so easily evaded his attempt to pin her down, but now that his initial shock had worn off, he acted less on instinct. He had to conduct himself properly. Everywhere he went, he represented Tojo-Kai. It was of utmost importance that he didn't make a fool of himself - or attack any strangers, thus bringing some distant ire to his father's doorstep. Her lilting laugh brought him back down to earth.

She wasn't afraid. She was enjoying this. Good. Less chance she'll go tattling on me.

Katsu blinked in shock, shifting awkwardly from paw to paw as she teased him. He wasn't used to sparring with someone who wasn't from his pack, and frankly, less used to interacting with someone who wasn't one of his ten other siblings. But her words rang true - one surefire way to keep the prickling, icy cold at bay was to keep moving, and he'd stood still for far too long underneath the scrappy tree. "F-fire, yeah - " And then she darted forward, slapping him clear across the face before he could get his bearings again. Another growl erupted from him, a reflex he wasn't used to. The noise sounded rough from disuse. This was... a game for her. He was certain of it.

"I'll show you fire," he hissed, a people-pleaser until the end. Katsu curled his lip in a silent snarl and lurched towards her, limbs still stiff from the cold. With each step he could feel his blood moving, a prickling sensation as feeling returned to his limbs. It felt like he was on fire. He wasn't very swift, but he was huge and built like a tank. Covered in dried gore and with his slick, bright red mane running down his neck, he cut an imposing figure. Katsurō darted forward in an attempt to grab her back left leg out from underneath her, flipping her to the ground if he got his jaws around it.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Illusion's gaze sharpened, coming in puffs as Katsuro hesitated, caught between instinct and restraint. She could see the fire kindling in him, not yet roaring but smoldering beneath the surface. What a polite boy. A shiver traced her spine, though not from the cold; it was the thrill of the moment, the promise that he might rise to meet her, that he might be strong enough to bring her down. That she could force his hand. The idea of it was intoxicating, and she savored the ache of anticipation it left behind.

Her grin widened as she watched him struggle to find his footing. She wanted him to fight, truly fight, not with awkward stiffness or half-measures but with the kind of force that could crush her if she wasn’t careful. Her paws shifted, readying her body to move. “Show me,” she echoed, her voice soft and teasing, but there was an edge to it now, some dark desire mixed in, who could tell? “Prove you can burn me. All the better to keep warm.”

When he lunged, his sheer size was impossible to ignore. Like... a boulder rolling downhill, all weight and momentum, a force that could crush if it connected. For a moment, Illusion stilled, tempted to let him catch her, to feel the strength he possessed—but the challenge wasn’t to be caught. It was the thrill of the dance, wasn't it? At the last second, she twisted, the barest bit—not enough to save her from his jaws. The snap of his teeth at her back leg sent a jolt of heat through her veins, and she laughed, breathless and exhilarated despite the pain.

She was flipped to the ground now, her eyes sparkling with mischief and burning with something that craved to be overwhelmed. She brushed her tail against his flank, fores grappling for his neck or shoulders, whatever she could force down to her level as she struggled and tried to snap at his throat.

“Come on.” she whispered, her grin feral, her breath quickened by more than exertion. It was sheer delight. Pure amusement, softened by her gentle silver eyes. “Make me regret underestimating you." This was what she wanted, her game.

"Illusion Nightwing"