Shatter The Stars

*Surreal* · 01-21-2014, 04:11 AM

Surreal

Surreal padded along the edge of the field, head level with her shoulders, tail at a level with her spine, mismatched blue and gold eyes studying the torn land that had seen much strife, and countless deaths over the past. She was young, and yet had already experienced her first real battle. Had already risen to the status of Beta female in Valhalla. Thus, she needed to be stronger than ever. As skilled as a veteran. As wise as an elder. A shadow crossed before her, as Battlesong drifted on thermals far above her, the bird?s keen golden eyes sweeping the land for other figures.

Surreal?s head lifted as she turned to face into the field, ears pressing forward, tail flowing to align with her back. Paws rested in a balanced stance as she gazed out over the Battlefield, on eye on the hawk soaring above. Silver fur rippled under a light breeze, and she turned her face into the wind, tasting and taking a deep breath of it, rolling its contents and information through her mind. Old blood, new blood, the most recent perhaps a day or so old. Torn earth still drying under a spring sun. Many scents mingled, some containing fear, others the rage of battle.

As yet, she saw no one, and Battlesong hadn?t alerted her to a newcomer to the area, so she stepped out, treading lightly around splotches of stained grass, tail at half mast, ears rotating and flicking to catch the tiniest sounds. This was a place where one needed to be alert, or risk bumping into more trouble than was being sought.

The hawk gave a long cry, the call thin at the distance the bird was flying from Surreal. Dark ears perked, and Surreal raised her head to it?s utmost elevation, scanning the horizon for the other being. After a moment, the silver Timber marked she-wolf raised her muzzle and uttered a full-throated howl to the sky. She did feel rather pleased that little of her youth showed in the song, as her head lowered, and her eyes returned to the ground above which Battlesong circled, tracking the newcomer?s movements. A moment later, she recoiled, mentally, in disgust. Glaciem. The northern scent rippled over her nostrils, giving her tongue a bitter taste.

Her expression fell into the blank, reserved set that her mother and uncle were famous for, eyes resting on the approaching Glaciem wolf. For now, She would reserve judgment.

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