Like his grandmother before him Song entered the lands of Boreas alone. He was encouraged by his father's dying wish to go and seek out the land of his ancestors. The land of Bronze and Silent, of Song and Cherokee. This land was once theirs to travel, but as they were changed and gone so the land had changed too. Packs rose and fell, as did many of his unknown kin. His dam and sire had been rather private wolves, they had slipped from the lands years ago. Now he was going to return in their place. 

His massive form appeared on the shore of the mangroves that had born his mother so many years ago. His pale blue gaze took in the massive trees as his namesake had all those years ago. The waves lapped at his snowy white paws as the sun glinted of his golden eye stripes. Like he had been born within the groves he took to traveling the roots expertly, his lone form conquering old Ludicael lands. 

Bright white ears swiveled around as he searches for a sound that was not gurgling water. What sort of wolves remained here, he wondered. Who called this place home now? Song continued into the trees, feeling the deep history in his bones. The daylight concealed the magic of this place, and he knew he would have to linger until dark to really appreciate the hallowed grounds. 

He found a huge tree, it's roots extensive and guarding. Curiously the large Destruction would find his way onto the porch like formation to wait out the last few hours of daylight.

She arrives with the intention to explore. Having recently set paw upon foreign soil, the fae has been granted little time to access her surroundings. A furious stomach and weary bones had forced her into a makeshift shelter, and she spent her first night within these strange lands dozing among the mossy roots of a tree. Now, as daylight warms her mahogany pelt, she dares to venture further.

At first, she merely weaves about the trees, occasionally pausing to inspect her environment. There are a myriad of scents interwoven among the wilderness, and the she-wolf makes note of each as she travels, drinking in each tendril of new information.

Little time has passed, however, when he appears.

He is handsome, she notes, though not with a girly sort of admiration but rather with a blatent honesty. And large. Larger than herself, and her recent travels have not been kind. She is bony and fragile, possessing little muscle and strength. If it ever came to a physical dispute, she does not deny his victory. Perhaps this is why she hides, slipping amongst a clump of bushes and peering out with sharp blue orbs. Her dark pelt blends amongst the muted hues of the forest, and it would take a sharp pair of eyes to spot her, and so she waits, watching with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, her stomach writhing with each.

Finally, he settles beside a tree, seemingly content to wait, though for what she does not know. It is only then that the she-wolf dares to step out from the undergrowth, casually shaking moss and scraps of leaves from her pelt. She moves a few steps closer, allowing him to fully see her without making herself too vunerable, then inclines her head to tree, eyes narrowing slightly. "What answers do you hope to find among the wilderness?".

Song grew comfortable in the nest of roots, his large paws spread before him and his tail wagging absently at his side like a cat’s. He half closed his eyes, feeling the sun sprinkle on his back with warmth. The tiring effects of his journey were felt fully and the man felt himself half drifting off into a nap. He sighed contentedly, resting in the same place his grandmother had before unknowingly to him. He felt a slight itch at the back of his neck that prevented him from relaxing fully, someone was watching him but he wouldn’t acknowledge the feeling.

He would not miss the sudden sound of movement in the undergrowth nearby however, and his pale blue eyes flashed open at her appearance. He tilted his head in curiosity as he took her in, rich forest hues covered her silky pelt. She looked run down, skinny and tired. Not only from what was probably a long journey but her eyes told of emotional unrest as well. She was hardly a threat, though he bowed his head in greeting keeping himself sprawled comfortably on the roots as her words reached his ears.

He smiled softly, wondering where she had come from and what troubles she had seen recently to make her so. ”The home of my ancestors, my mother told me if I appeared by the water at night I would be astounded by an act of magic. So I wait the hour of darkness.” He looked back to her curiously, intent on knowing the same of her. ”What about you, surely the journey has been arduous for you.” He looked her up and down once more, indicating her less than peak condition. ”I’ve been named Song Destruction, after my grandmother who used to rule these lands. What may I call you?

Thorne has always been a creature of caution. Even as a child, wide-eyed and in awe of the enormity of the world, a sense of self-presveration has been embedded within her very being. And so, as the male speaks, the fae studies him carefully; his relaxed stature and pale blue eyes, his voice and the slight upward tug of his lips. She holds no doubt that he has already reached the same conclusion as she: she is no threat. Not in her bedraggled state, not when her joints still ache with exhaustion and she is alone in a strange place. He has no means to be concerned, and while she maintains are perpetual viligance, she relaxes slightly. If he does not deem her threat, perhaps he is less likely to feel the need to attack.

And so, she allows a light chuckle, the sound breathy and amused. "Yes, it has not been a pleasant journey, I will admit". She feels his lingering gaze, taking in her wiry form and jutting bones. Instead of cowering, she meets his gaze, holding it for as long as he would stare back. She wouldn't hide from the truth of her condition. "Song Destruction" she echoes finally, rolling the name across her tongue. "Quite a name. I can imagine it inspires a sense of apprehension among newcomers. My own name, I'm afraid, does not pack the same punch". Those brilliant cerulean pools twinkle with amusement. "Thorne. Just Thorne". That night, she had abadoned her title along with her father's last name, desiring to sever any possible tie to her past.

"Is there really magic within these lands?". She pauses to scan the mangrove, drinking in every detail. There wasn't anything particuarly fantastical about their surroundings, but perhaps that was the trap, designed to trick passerbys into assuming its uselessness. "Personally, I've never believed in magic. But perhaps...Perhaps, tonight, I will be swayed".

Song had little to feel cautious about in his life, especially from others of his kind. The she wolf in front of him was far from a threat and the young man relaxed further. He was an innocent boy, and didn’t even think about a potential ambush. She didn’t seem to really relax, but he couldn’t do much to soothe her other than keeping his relaxed pose. Though she admits she hasn’t had an easy time he can tell there was still pride in her self worth. She held his gaze as he gave his name and seemed to loosen a bit as she took his name and returned her own.

He nodded, though no one had ever seemed very nervous about his name he could see the connotation. Most members of his family possessed good hearts, but there were a few who reveled in chaos. ”Thorne,” He rolled it over his lips, ”Seems a strong name.” She had obviously faced harsh realities and made her way through them on her own.

She asked about the magic he had mentioned, and he felt the same as she did. He had his doubts that magic was real, but his mother would not have lied to him. He was sworn to witness some kind of phenomenon. ”I can’t say for certain, but my mother would not lie. There will be something to see, but who knows if magic is really the cause. Will you stay and watch with me?” He asked cautiously, and as an afterthought, ”We could hunt to pass the time?” She looked like she could use a few good meals.

The fae watches the man closely as he tests her name, assessing his reaction with curiosity. It had been a significant amount of time since one had uttered her name; days of travel had not allowed for many chances to socialise. "Thankyou" she murmurs at his comment, one corner of her ebony lips curving into an amused half smile. She isn't sure of his sincierity, but she finds herself appreciating the gesture regardless.

He seems to agree with her stance on magic, to which she nods, tail tip twitching. However, it is his next question that surprises her slightly. She blinks once, the only indication of it. "Very well. I would like to see this magic for myself". It is the truth. Despite her calm, blank disposistion, she harbours a deep curiosity for the potential of this magic. Of course, she expects to be disappointed. Most things in life, she has recently discovered, were disappointments. But the very prospect of magic...A tiny fragment of her heart, a fragment she longed to ignore, yearned for it to be true.

His next words do evoke an evident reaction from her however, and this time, she doesn't even attempt to conceal the dry, humorless laugh. "Yes, I suppose I do. Alright, let's hunt". She nods, an indication that he may procede with a plan.

Song couldn't help the pleased smile that overtook his features as the she wolf accepted his invitation. While he had come here to see for himself the lands of his mother and grandmother he couldn't help but start to enjoy the company of the woman. The good natured Destruction wagged his tail in a rather pleased fashion when she quickly agreed to his suggestion. 

Still sensitive to her cation he lifted his massive form slowly, pulling his white paws under him and shaking the leaves from his pelt. His tail swung behind him as he brought his pale blue gaze back to her features. "If you don't mind to get wet I saw some capybara a ways up." one of the giant rodents would easily feed the two of them. "If you have a knack for fishing I'm sure there are some big ones around. Or turtles, or if you really feel like a challenge there are caman." the last of these options seemed the least likely considering her condition, but dodging teeth could be exhilarating. And the small crocodilians were not quite as much as a threat as their larger cousins. "Of course there are plenty of birds, crabs, and monkeys if you can catch them." He offered many options, leaving the final decision up to her.

The mahogany she-wolf pauses to consider, eyes narrowing in thought. She regards the ground for a moment, slowly considering each option with a thoughtful frown. After a heartbeat, she raises her head once more, aiming to meet her companion’s gaze. “Let’s go for some capybara. I’ve known how to swim since I was a pup”. She nods once, satisfied with the decision, and gestures with a flick of her tail. ”Lead the way”.

She edges closer, a symbol of her willingness to cooperate, at least in this endeavour. She still regards him with slight suspicion; if her recent ordeal has taught her anything, it’s that even when you think you truly know someone, they can betray you. And she now knew that every male possessed a lying heart.

The Sorrel woman took a moment to make her decision and Song waited patiently for her. Any of the options worked for him but as she decided on capybara he found himself relieved. Even with their escape into the water they were the least dangerous of the options. Unless they happened into a crocodile in their endeavor but if the water was shallow enough the chance of that was reduced. Anyway it was likely any reptilian predators would go after the capybara instead.

Song nodded, easily accepting her decision and taking her command to lead them. His large paws gripped the mangrove bark expertly as he used all of his senses to find their prey. A capybara was often found lounging with other animals, so even if they missed their query they could substitute with turtles or ducks. He found what he was looking for with relative ease, his paws silent on the wood. The large white wolf crouched to reduce his visibility as he approached the two animals.

They were grazing in the water while he approached from the height of the roots. With a twitch of his tail he motioned for Thorne to keep going around to ambush them. She was better camouflaged than himself and had better chance of surprising them.

The fae watches Song as he moves forward, pacing towards the water. She falls in behind him, stepping lightly, muzzle lowered and eyes fixated on the surface of the water, watching for any sign of the small animals. Her ears are pricked, her gaze narrowed, every muscle taut and ready. She isn’t nervous or plagued by self-doubt. Thorne had trained as a hunter since childhood. They catch sight of their prey, and she stiffens immediately, every sense honed in on those tiny creatures. As Song moves away, rounding on their targets, she slinks away in the opposite direction, keeping her steps as light and soundless as possible. As they reach their positions, Song waits, evidently relying on her to initiate the attack. Thorne pauses, adjusting herself, ensuring that she is in a position that does not carry her scent across to the capybara. After a heartbeat, the mahogany she-wolf breaks into a run, rushing at the prey so suddenly that they have no time to move out of the way. She gnashes at one, watching it skitter away in Song’s direction, then swings abruptly, snapping up the second as it attempts to spring past her. The metallic tang of blood fills her mouth as she delivers a quick bite to the creature’s neck, killing it instantly. Laying it at her paws, she turns her attention to her companion, hoping that Song has been equally as successful. speech action

His silent communication was understood, and Thorne moved past him to the best place to start an ambush. She managed to move much closer to the unsuspecting animals than he would have been able to, and as she made her move he did the same. The first large rodent was spooked and came crashing towards him with wild eyes, with only a bit of effort he came between the capybara and it’s intended escape rout. His long limbs closed the distance between them and with those long limbs surrounded the creature and move to bite at its vulnerable neck. Within a few moments the animal was dead and his mouth filled with its lifeblood.

He let the creature sink down into the water between his paws as he brought his pale blue gaze up to see Thorne as successful as he was. There would be plenty of meat between them. He smiled in their success. ”You’re quite the talented hunter,” He commented before taking his own catch into his jaws and returning to dry land. He’d let the carcass fall to the earth before following it himself, eager to dig into a well earned meal.

Song is also successful in his endeavours, and this pleases the woman. Taking a pace forward, she regards his catch with an improving nod. "Well done". Her gaze drifts to the prey lying motionless in the water, and after a moment, she graps the creature in her jaws and pulls herself onto the bank. He complements her, then, and she waits until he too has made it onto dry land before providing an explaination. "My father placed a strong emphasis on learning to hunt. He was the leader of his own pack, but he always believed in being able to fend for yourself. I suppose he was wise, at least in that regard". She settles to the ground and sinks her teeth through the flesh, chewing eagerly, tongue swiping to catch any missed morsels. All the while, the fae's ears remained perked, unwilling to be caught offguard. speech action

Thorne didn’t hold back a similar compliment, they had both taken their quarry with no injuries and a quick end to their prey. Song couldn’t have counted the success any better and wouldn’t have changed a move. They made a decent team, and she was even willing to tell him a bit about her past. He listened, glad to know she had trained well to keep herself alive. Hunting was one of the most important skills to have. The skill also provided building blocks of skills for those destined to be warriors.

He nodded as he finished gulping down the last bite he’d taken. ”He certainly was, your skills are impressive.” He wondered absently how long she had been a loner, he hadn’t missed how she refused to relax in his presence. Song couldn’t blame her, you never knew who would betray your trust.

He praises her, and for that, she supposes a show of gratitude is in order. Unfortunately for him, however, she has never been a creature of polite niceities, and so, she merely dips her head in silent acknowledgement, before leaning to tear flesh from bone. She chews in silence, mulling over her companion, her impression of him, his actions and mannerisms, and after a moment, those cerulean orbs turn to regard him, holding him captive in a thoughtful frown. "What of your family?" she asks finally, swallowing. Her eyes narrow, both in curiosity and suspicion. "I can only assume they possess quite the legacy. From what you've told me, I doubt they are not notable members of this land". She waits in silence, resisting the urge to take another bite so that she may actively engage in conversation with the male, and waits to be corrected. speech action