A child of the gods she may be, but it did not help her when she was in search of her tribe. Nor did it help her in this infernal cold which seeped into her very bones. Ardora winced as the cold mud splattered on her paws even when she stepped carefully upon the ground; it was absolutely frigid at night, but now, mid-afternoon... it was just wet. And soggy. And still cold. And yet, despite the mud everywhere, Ardora could see the natural beauty of the land. When it would warm again, there would be an abundance of herbs, she believed, for this struck her as a very green and fertile land. A place to resettle her tribe, if she could ever find the members of it again.

The failure stung her; never before had she faced failure. She brought prosperity to her people. Prosperity in the form of being well-fed, of having great litters of children, of health and of happiness... all that was ruined by a simple foreign group of wolves who didn't understand the will of the gods and sought to destroy what was true and perfect.

Growling quietly, she prowled the lands, nose and eyes peeled for anything that might be around. At this point, she'd been all over - into this land and beyond it, and now she had doubled back and was searching a new swath that hopefully would lead her to the wolves she wanted to be lead to. Quickly, quietly, she sent a prayer to the gods; oh, let her find her people. Let her have the opportunity to please the gods once more, and be a true leader.


"Speech" "You" Think

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He kept his head up as he made his way through the south, not a care in the world that his sister could be starving. She was an ass to him, constantly biting him and telling him what to do. Now he was on his own and there was no one to stop him from doing what he wanted to do. He was a child of the gods, a wolf born of the elements themselves. He was unstoppable, and indestructible. It was with that attitude that he entered the gully, not even sparing a look at the landscape around him. Who cared? He was the embodiment of fire, and if he wanted to he could destroy it all. Phoenix didn't feel lonely, nor any regret for abandoning Ashelynn. She was always going on and on about how strong she was, now she had to prove it. Nose tipping upwards, his body moving with grace. There was no doubt that he thought a lot of himself by the way that he carried his form, but why would he not feel this way? He had been blessed, his ego boosted from the day that he was born on this earth. Everyone else was mundane and boring, no one could top him. Except for her. He looked down for a second, his eye catching the glowing wolf that moved through the dried grasses. It looked like flames danced upon her very coat, twisting around her with a grace that he couldn't hope to match. She was a goddess, an ember of the fire that he was birthed from. She was who he was looking for all this time... his mother. She had to be, there was no other wolf on this place who held a candle to him. But her? She was all he could ever hope to be. He stood stock still, dazed at her appearance. While his coat bore more yellows and reds, hers sparked like dying flames, bright oranges burning into her fur. The base of her coat was similar to his own, it wasn't hard to see that he had been born from her. While Carletta said that they were birthed from the elements themselves, it was pretty clear to see that this female was fire in wolf form. Slowly he took a step towards her, before he full out ran at her. His yellow eyes were wide and bright, an unfamiliar feeling of hope blossoming from his chest. "¡Madre, madre!" the yearling called, aiming to barrel into her right shoulder. If he was able to he would cling to her leg, rubbing his face against her warm fur. "He estado buscando por todas partes, y aquí estás. Madre, diosa del fuego y de las llamas. Tienes que ser ella." Pheonix didn't stop to think that his mother wouldn't speak Spanish, as it was a language that the wolf who raised him had spoken. It flowed with ease off his tongue, while with the more common tongue he sputtered and stumbled. That was not the first impression that he wanted to make on the fiery female. Looking up at her, his tail wagged behind him as he finally felt all the pieces slide into place. Of course she was his mother, there was no one else like her, just him. Not even Ashelynn was close enough to her coat colours, just the lava-like markings that twisted up her legs. It was him who had been given all the power, he could feel it stirring in his gut. He was destined for great things, and now he could do them all with his mother at his side. "SPEAK!" -- "SPEAK SPANISH"

Born as royalty and raised under the care of wolves who adored her and loved her, Ardora never really wrapped her mind around the concept of... missing something, or someone. She never lacked for need; since her birth the tribe slowly began to prosper again. She was taught everything that she possibly needed to know, from how to lead, to how to read the signs of the gods, to how to be fair, just, and unbiased. She rarely experienced a negative emotion; anger was rare, though she had experienced it many times. Rage, hatred, as well, were emotions she was familiar with... but this yearning, this longing... for a sign from the gods, for a sign from her tribe, for something. This yearning for home and this anger towards the foreigners who took everything away.

It was something Ardora did not fully understand, and the woman absolutely hated it. It was out of control. How could she, blessed by the gods and the embodiment of fire, a child of flame, be so helpless and out of control? How could she be so lost and not knowing what to do? How could she have failed, so terribly, to protect her people and to guard them from the hell that had descended upon them? How could she have failed? She was fated to bring prosperity to her people. Not.... not this terror and destruction that led to the death of many and the splintering of those who remained. She knew she brought prosperity, and for a long time, and she knew that her people - those left, anyway - likely did not blame her for any of it. They did not, after lal, blame her when it was starting to fall apart. They supported her in everything she did, offering advice and methods of dealing with the foreigners. Not once had they doubted her ability nor had they turned away from her. Would they now?

Whispered prayers left her lips as she stared up at the sun and the afternoon lights that no doubt illuminated her fur.  She wished for a sign, something, something soon, perhaps. She didn't expect anything, not so quickly, though. Perhaps, perhaps in the coming weeks. How wrong she was. She prayed to her gods, and they answered immediately. She was used to a quick response; it was the gods who led her to make the tribe prosper, but... she wasn't expecting this quick of a response. Quick, to her, and tot he tribe, was in days, weeks... not seconds. Within literal moments, a blur of something fiery and yellow and orange literally hurled itself into her legs, crying out in a language she was absolutely unfamiliar with. What? She staggered from the impact slightly as the young wolf hit her shoulder like a ton of bricks, and she stared down in absolute shock.

Never before had she seen a wolf in such vibrant hues. Yellow and orange danced across the fur of the wolf in a manner she had only seen with herself. He spoke so eagerly, so familiarly, as if he already knew her, though she knew she had never before seen such a child. This - this was the sign? She never thought, not in her lifetime, that the gods would bless yet another wolf. And yet... here he stood, a counterpart to her own fire. A child of flame.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared down at the young wolf. This was what she was looking for. This was her chance. She was hoping for something small, some sign to her tribe, but immediately... this was something bigger than her now. Never before had there been two wolves with the gift of flame in their veins. Only one, and the last child had been millennium ago. Now there were two. The same thoughts kept running through the female's head, and yet it was still just as difficult to wrap her mind around.

Still, the entire thought process took only a few seconds of staring down at the boy. She did not understand his words, but she would come to, in time. She lowered her head, her nose touching the top of his head in a gesture of welcome and acceptance. "Παιδί," she breathed. Who'd ever thought? Ardora felt a warmth stirring in her breast, one that had not stirred in the year since she and her tribe had lost everything. It was a feeling of hope, for this beautiful child and what Uldormün and his pantheon had in store for their future.

"Speech" "You" Think

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The silence only spread between them before she leaned down to nuzzle him, a soft word leaving her lips in yet another language that he couldn't understand. Confused, he pulled back with his fire marked brows pulling together as he gazed up at the embodiment of fire itself. Of course she didn't speak Spanish, it wasn't something that he had been born into. Carletta was their earth bound mother who had raised them, if it had been anyone else they would have known the more common language of these lands. But the accent on her tongue and the way she had said that single word, he knew that it wasn't the language that most spoke here, but something else entirely. It irritated him that there was forever another barrier set up in front of him, it was far too much effort to get over them. Letting out a soft huff, he sat on his rump and eyed the goddess that he was sure was his mother. "You, you my mother, yes? You has been, you are fire in wolf body. Like me. I born from fire, you fire," he muttered, his ears pulling back slightly at the sound of his own voice. He hated sounding like this, it made him feel like others would feel like he was dumb, which he wasn't by any means. Licking at his lips, he fell silent as he looked over her glowing body. Carefully he reached out, caressing the glow with his nose as if to touch the temperature. It bounced off his nose, sparking in front of his eyes like a true fire. There was no doubt that this was who he thought it was, his golden eyes weren't lying to him. Glancing over to her sunny gaze, a small smile curled up on his inky lips. He had found his home, he knew that. He was stronger than Ashelynn and had been the one to make it here, while she struggled to make it in the north. He was the chosen one, something that he had always felt. A rich fire burned at his chest as his nose tipped upwards; this was only confirmation for what he had always felt. Phoenix brushed his nose across her cheek, if the woman allowed, letting out a soft hum as he did so. Never before had he found someone who was better than him, or more beautiful. That meant she had to be related to him, he didn't get this coat of flames from nothing. "You no speak Spanish, no? I do, earth mother taught us. You speak other, something new to me. But you mother, I know you is. No one else can be, now I see you. You like me, but you real fire," There was a clear note of wonder and awe in his broken speech, his eyes alight with amazement. Phoenix had had no hope of finding where he had come from, but perhaps this woman had all the answers for him. That was, if she even spoke the common tongue. He hoped so, otherwise they would just be stuck here like this. His flame dusted tail curled around him as he nearly shook with excitement, feeling like a whole new path had opened up in front of him. He had thought that he was indestructible before, but now he could feel the power coursing through his veins. With the two of them together, the whole world was at their paws. "SPEAK!" -- "SPEAK SPANISH"

It was clear that in a way he was still a pup, because he'd pull back confused, then flopped down with a huff. She couldn't help the slight smirk that appeared on her face, or the soft chuckle that emerged at the same time. He was tiny, too, surprisingly so, but she knew that all wolves - even those blessed by the gods - stopped growing at around the age of a year, shortly before sexual maturation. So, this was as tall as the young boy would get. Easily shorter than her, and she was by no means a tall wolf, though she was pretty average on the scale. It mattered not to her, just a simple curiosity; the gods cared naught for the size of the body, but rather for the size of the spirit, and the energy within.

When he began speaking, it also became apparent that he was far from skilled in the department of the common tongue. So it was foreign to both of them, and to her, it was another sign. The language he was fluent in - that strangely musical tongue - was not hers, but it was still another sign. Another shared thing between the two of them. His words, though, did make her pause. Though not correctly said, it was easy to understand what he meant. He believed she was his mother, born of her. She didn't answer right away, instead watching as he poked at one of the many sparks that would occasionally lift from her fur, though no true heat came from them. Only the glow, which she could not and would not if she had the choice, turn off.

It made him smile, and she smiled in return as she finally answered his... surprisingly tricky question. "Yes - and no. You do not come from my womb, but you are a child of the gods, and they have blessed me with you." And she clearly had been chosen to take this child in as her own, to teach him their ways. "But it matters not if you come from my womb, for the gods have spoken - and you are mine." To her, it made perfect sense. If she was not meant to take this role, this challenge, then they would have brought to her an older wolf, one with wisdom already and would be her brother in fire. But they had given her a child, and to her that meant that he was supposed to be her child of fire, and that he would be.

"Speech" "You" Think

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