Hailing from the deep woods of the world, the girl was not accustomed to sights like the one that was spread out before her now. The light of the waning moon cast long shadows, what might glitter in the sunlight merely gave off a dull shine like quartz in the moonlight. The whole place felt heavy, and she moderated her breath to avoid drawing the attention of any spirits that must inevitably dwell here. You couldn’t have soil with such a heavy copper tang without a lot of blood having been spilled here at some point.

Tilly never stopped to consider the way her ice-touched coat would look in the moonlight, her thin, wraith-like form passing silently through the former battlefield, the very image of a vengeful spirit herself. The Archer decided she needed a better vantage point, and climbed one of the metal hullking vehicles that lay abandoned like some great beetles discarded shell. Her nails tapped against the metal with a ting, her body freezing as her own ears swivelling at the strangeness of it all. When the sound was met with no groan or growl, she continued her ascent.

On top of her new perch, she bought herself to a seat, orange eyes washed out to something less in the moonlight turned toward the stars. Sedna’s scent had given her the direction initially, but now that she was here, her inclination to follow her wayward little sister had dissipated along with the roundness of the moon. It was almost a time for the night to be bathed in darkness, a time for new beginnings, when the moon would be born new again. It was a good omen.

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

Fitz had no pack and doubted he ever would. For now his role was to travel and teach others of his deity. That didn't mean every sentence had to start with 'so you need to believe in...' but it was a thing to always aim to get around too. Considering the grey-colored wolf was blessed of course by Nytalen meant the responsibility lay heavily on him. Some foolish wolves did not know of him or understand his greatness. This would not be an easy job.

The terrain he found himself in now was a strange one. He cautiously made his way to what seemed like metal rocks on the ground, sniffing at them before moving to a larger round piece sticking out of the ground. What sort of rock were these? That was all he could think of they would be. No scent of carcass directly on them, nor scent of a living thing. He took a slow nip at one curious about it, stepping away after feeling how solid it was. It certainly had to be some odd sort of rock.

The scent of the land suggested a history to be found. It was a thing worth questioning, but not worth stopping for any long period of time. Fitz slowed from a long stride to a slower one then stopped. Why should he rush past it? He had no exact location in mind of where to go. How did he know there were no wolves out here? Then again if he wanted to form a pack or even live alone somewhere this is not a spot he would choose.

A large structure made out of the same rocks as before was coming closer. Looking up Fitz thought he saw the shape of a wolf up there, though with both shadows and the oddity of the rock it could be his eyes playing tricks on him. Arching his neck up a bit more he scented the wind to see if he could smell the wolfs presence. Had he found someone who was in need of the truth he could shsare?

The Archer heard the other animal moving downwind while her eyes were turned skyward, taking in the constellations she recognised, and those she did not. The woman held her posture, knowing it would be movement that gave her away, unless the stranger was familiar with this place and knew her shape was one that did not belong here. As it began to climb her perch, she allowed her head to dip down, a sidelong glance determining her companion to be canine, a tooth was revealed to the moonlight, though whether it was in smile or snarl would be difficult to detect in the light of the failing moon. Her huff filled the air before her face with dragons breath, the evening yet cool enough to condense the air that left her lungs. "Hail, Beastie," Her smirk would be heard, if not seen.

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

Fitz’s question was answered when he saw part of the shadow move when there was no wind at that moment to move it. His goal was sharing of his deity but to be frank he was also just liked the idea of meeting another wolf. It had been a bit and he was tired of having no one to talk too other than Nytalen. Deity as Nytalen was he never deigned to answer when Fitz was awake, only in his dreams.

Beastie? Fitz made his way up finding that a rather interesting greeting to start with. Whatever. “Charming,” he responded dryly to her greeting. It seemed both were predominantly grey, simply different in the exact shades of grey and location. It was harder to make her out in the beginning, but the closer he got the more he could tell she was a bit leaner than he was. The smirk did go unseen, but it was certainly easy to make out. She certainly had a bit of an attitude, nothing really wrong in that. She just was unaware of who she was throwing it at. “How would such a charming lady find herself in such a dull place as this?” He didn’t smirk, but his words held a note of superior tolerance in them.

He still wasn’t level with her, he had stopped before reaching that point. Just close enough for a better look from a spot that had solid footing to it. It was the same sort of rock as the others, it had a strange feeling to his paws. Fitz wasn’t ready to trust it quite yet.

At a guess, she would have to put the stranger of an age with her sister, the darker woman herself about to enter her third year. Tilly was not worried about him getting up in her space, the Archers were an argy-bargy lot, all solid tackles and sharp nips to the face, low growls and jaw spars. The measured approach of the pale man was a breath of fresh air, and besides, in her experience, those that wanted to outright cause harm didn’t come up and start wasting breath on words.

Unlike her little sister Sedna - with her hot temper and heart on her sleeve, Matilda was far better at holding a poker face. Once she might have snorted derisively at the man’s question. Instead, she held a small, secretive smile, eyes turning back towards the stars. She was looking for the little sky bear, inhaling as her eyes fell upon it while she considered her next words, and just how much she wanted to give away. "Chasin’ a new moon. An’ yerself?"

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

Fitz certainly had no intent to fight, not at this moment.  It was still unexpectedly pleasant to share words with another.  It didn't mean he cared about her, wanted friendship or anything such as that.  It would be hard to fullfill his goal if Fitz never met anyone, and it would be rather lonely.  Was she a loner as well? He did not smell a pack near here nor see her looking about as if to find any friends.

"I've been traveling to find other wolves." The words politely granted, "I wish to tell others about the true lord of the land who helped to create it, and the power he offers to those who follow him." There were also curses for those who did not but Fitz-Nytalen felt it was better to start with the side which sounded more positive.  Getting right to the point but she had asked.

Fitz took his time to get a comfortable seat on the odd rock, a sign he had no intent of trying to lower her guard and attack.  Perhaps he could find followers to travel with.  Those smart enough to listen and wish to learn more.  It was a good idea and a way to keep the traveling from being so quiet.

The woman bit the tip of her tongue behind closed lips to hide the cheshire smile that wanted to break free. Oh he was one of those... The “Have ye found Jeezis, or Pangur, or Odin (those always had been her favourite, Oh what’s my brother done this time? she would retort). Matilda Archer belonged to the Green, she was not for him, or his god, but she didn’t have to let him know that just yet. For one who had cut her teeth on, and made it almost her life’s mission to be a thorn in the side of the Emirate, religious zealots held a special place in her little dark heart. She just loved to toy with them. Her "Hmm," was a non-committal sound, face outwardly thoughtful, even in the dark. "what sorta power?” she probed. It was a flimsy promise to offer for obedience.

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

"Nytalen," the grey wolf said the name with devotion as he spoke it, "the creator of a wolves true strength gives power through adversity.  It is he who created what trips up a wolf most.  The hooved beasts once had no antlers to defend themselves.  The prey were easier to take down.  Snakes had no venom to kill the unsuspecting wolf.  The bears we have now ate grass and lacked the claws and fangs they have now.  Their bulk was only to defend itself." Certainly the words so far didn't sound the best reasons to want to follow someone.

"Nytalen did not do these things because he wanted us to die off though.  When he created these changes and much  more it was to help us get stronger.  How pitiful an existence it would be if we were never challenged.  How meaningless and boring the days and nights would be." A seconds pause to let that amount sink in. "Right now is a time of testing, a time of waiting for more to be allowed to know of him.  When the testing is over a time of darkness will come.  The dangers we have now will be like a tick under the fur.  He will help us grow stronger.  Our jaws will grow stronger, our speed faster.  There will be a presence to us, the brand of our Lord so that all other wolves and predators have no choice but to fear us and bow to us.  Those who do not perish by the dangers from his first wave of threats will surely die by the cleansing fire that will sweep the land.  It will not harm us, however.  It will only seek out those who ignore him. The tip of his tail ticked this way and that as he imagined the future he spoke of.

The wolf smiled with the imaginings of the future, "When that time comes we will be all powerful.  We will be feared."  His head tilted up as if seeing something in the dark sky above.  "I am blessed by him.  Fitz-Nytalen, his chosen."  He truly seemed to believe every word he uttered.

Oh, old green gods and new, could the boy talk. But he didn’t really answer her question did he? She had asked what sort of power followers had, not what they would eventually receive, but what powers they had right now. It was all there, just like the promises of the imaginary friends of every other kid that was dropped on their head too many times and never quite loved enough by mummy and daddy, down to the fire and brimstone promises of delusion. She almost wished she could conjure up the image of a wild fire right now to show him just how much control anyone other than the wind had over one of those. None of her exasperation showed outwardly on her face, in fact, it looked like she was listening rather intently from the outside. Inside, she was howling with laughter.

When he finally finished his spiel and introduced himself, she determined it was in her own best interest to keep her own name to herself. "Then part o’ tha’ adversity has ter be people not believin’ yer, yeah?" It was clearly phrased as a question, without judgement or her own personal opinion thrown in there. "Wha-der-yer do then?"

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

She listened politely and didn’t denounce what he said right away.  That was better than how his old pack felt about his choosing to follow the path of Nytalen.  “It might make things a little difficult,” the grey wolf nodded solemly. “Some wolves do not understand the importance of tomorrow, or further down the line.  I only recently started looking to share the truth with others.  The pack I was in before knew of Nytalen but foolishly scorned him for that ‘other’ one.” The other named deity was said with scorn, not even permitting their name to enter the sentence. “I fought for Nytalen of course, but I came to understand that the great lord wanted me to leave the island to share with more than just the pack.  It is the true reason I lost, no matter what the old lying fool thinks," a soft snarl rumbled when 'lying fool' was mentioned.

“As to what I will do in the future,” he paused thinking on how to phrase it.  “I can not force every wolf into accepting the truth.  Certainly not yet.  Nytalen speaks to me in dreams some nights, he will inform me when I should change the pattern.  For now it is just my job to share and let any followers come with me or separate to help spread the word.”  Fitz took the conversation very seriously without appearing to realize how she thought the whole thing a grand joke.  “Those who serve the other, or those who insult Nytalen shall have to be corrected of course.  Nytalen would accept no less than all insulters being corrected.”

The boys words became a distant buzzing, little more than a cicada chorus at the back of her mind as she kept her eyes to the stars and contemplated. Was this a sign, in the end? Maybe she should go back and properly explore the lower island she had first swum to, where her sisters scent joined up with the strangers first. Perhaps there was some significance in how quickly she was seemingly scooped up from the place?

And still he droned on. There was a tightness at the corner of her eyes as she turned to face him, expression obscured in the dark. This boy was going to get his ass bitten for sure, but she felt under no obligation to warn him. "I feel... compelled..." Her voice took on an airy quality, any sarcasm well concealed in her tone. "Do yer think this could be yer god? Tellin’ me ter head south an’ spread the word right now!" Her voice hitched enthusiastically but it wasn’t matched by her stance, still seated as she had been, her tail still against the metal shell on which she perched.

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

Fitz quieted on her question, but he didn’t appear rejoiced at it. “Don’t mock the worship of the lord Nytalen.” There was a stern note to his voice. “No, I don’t think he would just tell you to spread the word when you know so little of it.” Fitz would know if she we earnest about, he would. It was his job to judge and find those good enough, teach the unworthy and mock the foolish who were bound to die either way.

“What is your interest in the south, or was it just the first direction that came to your mind while being compelled?” Fitz had not been southbound yet, so he might as well hear what it was like there if she had information to give. Surely only Fitz would be compelled by his diety, those around here didn’t even know his name until it was spoken. Like a jealous kid over his superhero parent, Fitz would not share that closeness.

The Archer was growing tired of these fool games and allowed herself to audibly sigh, standing as she did so to leap from the turret to the body of the tank and then down to to the ground. "I ‘ave family in th’ south." She answered flatly, after all, it was true. She allowed herself a stretch, limbering up her limbs as she began to walk away. "Best o’ luck ter yer Fitz-Nytalen th’ chosen," she called back over her shoulder, one last glance at the stars to set her heading. Her own gods were calling.

"speech".

hurricane, running through my veins

-exit unless stopped-