From Out of the Woods

Small form slips from the cover of the tree line and out into the early morning sunlight that dances around the lake. The taller man lifts his head from his drink and water drips from his wet jaws as he watches her approach on the mirror-like surface of the water. Stopping a safe distance away since she does not wish to startle him and risk further injury, Haydée questions if the male would mind her drinking from the same lake while a friendly, warm smile fills her face. Their answer is amicable and she notices that he steps back to allow her his own spot that he been drinking from and, with a grateful dip of her head, the young woman steps up the crystalline surface and gratefully, lowers her head to drink deeply from the cool waters.

The scars are face are obvious as distinctly canine bites to her right brow and cheek have been carefully stitched closed recently but the flesh there is still pink and raw. As her neck bends so she can pull a drink from the water, the scars from her struggle with the Raid King are put on full display as well. Although these ones are distinctly different as the once vivid pink, ragged flesh on her scruff have finally begun to dull as they settle into their natural state and it is obvious that they are older. For a moment, she simply focuses on drinking, allowing the worry and doubts to scatter in the face of being grounded in the moment.

There is beauty to be found and the reflection off the still water forces her to squint against the brilliance and she spies fish darting away from the ripples her tongue makes on the surface. Suddenly, the man speaks up and Haydée nearly chokes on the water that she had just pulled into her mouth. Head snaps up and swivels so she can catch his icy eyes with her own vivid greens and a sheepish smile curls her lips as she swallows the liquid and steps back from the water so that she can turn and fully face him as she says, “I am safe. My pack actually isn’t far from here and I just needed to clear my head before the day begins.”

Straightening up, Haydée then dips into a polite bow as she introduces herself with practiced, easy words, “I am Haydée Kedieo, Leader of the pack Ethne.” Once the formal greeting is given, she folds her haunches and comes to sit lightly upon the ground as she explains her appearance, “As for my, uh, wounds, they are the result of two raids that happened at different times. I am just… very unlucky when it comes to fighting.” Blowing out air in a rolling, soft chuckle, the embarrassed woman shuffles her front paws as heat floods her face and she is thankful for the fur that hides it.

Pausing to allow the man time to digest her words, Hay wonders if he will wish to know about the events that had transpired or if will be satisfied with her glossing over of them. Either way, the woman is an open book and, whatever he wishes to know, she will do her best to supply him with the information.


"Haydée Kedieo"