Moonstones and Flame

She’d ventured beyond the wall, large hides draped over her and Aelloshir’s backs, and tied in place with some of Ime’s rawhide ropes, loaned by Paladin with a smile as the primates had fastened a sort of harness around both the young woman and her mountain lion guardian. The Mandrill had fashioned a bunch of sets of pack saddles fit for a wolf, on which hides could be hooked with a full load to distribute weight over the wearer’s back.

Aurielle thought it ingenious and Ayodele was delighted with the new saddle her friend wore, and was leaping from Loshir to Aurielle, and back again, thrilled with the new game. Aurielle and Aelloshir tolerated the antics until Aurielle paused, ankle deep in snow, by a crevice she knew well.

It was a chilly morning, and she’d set out after her patrol before dawn. From the maw of the gaping slash in the ground, she could feel and see the heat escaping from the river of fire below. She didn’t need much coaxing to duck into the cave and descend into the red-toned shadows.

She was warming her paws, pack saddle and hides stacked off to the side, the hides half full of firewood, and gazing into the molten river, deep in thought. Loshir was back in the shadows, pale silver eyes watchfully gazing to the crevice mouth, and Ayodele was, as ever, toying with the young woman’s mane.

The Archangel had liberally applied her favored scents to mask the natural calling card her body still insisted upon leaking. It was a pleasing mix of vanilla and lavender with peppermint. Jasmine she had decided to leave to fresh flowers to roll in during the plentiful seasons.

She was a shimmering pool of snow, stretched out and stark against the dark stone, front-lit by the red tones of the lava she thawed out by. She was running through the ever present plans for the pack, and considering the festivals she intended to hold someday, the pack relations she’d already worked to form with Fyri, Abaven, and of course, Lirim. She still needed to track down Mask’s pack, and she’d caught wind of another pack forming on Boreas. By that time, though, she’d been gone long enough to want to hurry home instead of stopping to socialize.

A soft click of her tongue escaped her as her head cocked, eyes absently following the molten flow. She had every intention of holding an event between the packs her own was friendly with, and eventually one open to all the lands, loner and pack alike. It was a lot of work to plan out, and she hoped her fellow alphas were willing and eager to officiate them when the time came.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think