The crypt was still. Shadows coated its interior much like the dust that clung to its inner tissue,
and it led one to wonder if it had ever been alive at all, if anyone had tried to fill it with life and
warm bodies, if it had ever been built with that intention in mind. Whatever it was, whatever it
had been, it was rotting. You could smell it.

A shape moved amongst the pillars, a vision of purity amidst the blackened rot and waste.
Guided by her nose, she followed the scent of the world outside.

The blizzard that chased her here died at the doorstep, and she wondered briefly about her
people, her family. She knew that finding them again would be her responsibility, and that
they'd have assumed her dead, lost to the storm. Bittersweet to know that the people she
loved would continue without her.
Her shelter had not been ideal, but what was a lost child to do in such a storm? She had to
admit she had not taken care in her entry, simply stumbled in and let exhaustion take her. But
she had found her way out anyway, so this mistake had been forgiven. For now.

The girl left her shelter to the snow-covered plains outside, coat almost indistinguishable
from the powdered ice. This was not the land she knew. Where on earth had she ended up?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The white, snow-covered landscape glitters with what looks like millions of tiny diamonds embedded in the soft powder. Ricin walks slowly through the still, silent land, the prized elk pelt he had won during the Elysium festival slung across his back. It had been fashioned into a cloak and it helps to stave off the cold as he makes his way across the still, white plains. There is something so peaceful about traveling right after a snow storm. An eerie, almost ethereal, silence blankets the land, wrapping in a calm rarely seen these days. It makes each crunchy pawstep that the blue boy takes seem deafening in stillness.

His hot breath turns into a cloud of steam as the tall boy continues explores, his long legs giving the growing boy a gangly appearance but helping him to navigate the snow with ease. Stopping a moment, Ricin inhales a deep breath and allows his ruby eyes to sweep over the snowy land, enjoying a moment of total calm. Finally, his paws resume their crunchy progress as the happy boy resumes his journey. As he nears the opening to the crypt, a place he remembers so vividly from the beginning months of his life here, the boy does not see the wolf standing nearby. How could he? She blends in so well with snow.

It is when he notices a black blob, does Ricin start and stops dead in his tracks to squint at the strange, optical illusion. But it is no illusion, the black blob is attached to a white muzzle that leads to a face with two eyes the color of ice. His breath hitches for a moment, wondering if this some apparition come to haunt him like the ghosts that walked during the long night. Swallowing thickly in a suddenly dry throat, Ricin’s voice sounds airy and scared as he asks, “Are… are you real?” He feels locked in a dream, uncertain if this real or his imagination playing tricks on him… so the tall boy waits for the spirit to answer.


"Ricin Dauner"

If the crypt was a rotting corpse, the outside was what killed it. The landscape was almost
monochrome, save for the black of tall rocks and the pine trees that dotted her surroundings.
It felt hostile, but she didn't feel like an invader this time, just a terribly lost yearling. She
searched, begged, prayed for familiarity in her environment. Instead she finds a wolf, startling
blue and quite oblivious. His gait was casual, unhurried in his journey, but there was skill in his
pawsteps. He seemed to know his way around the land, whether by memory or talent. Maybe
a little bit of both.

She stiffened at the sight of him, expecting him to address her in some way, but realised that
he hadn't noticed her admist the snow. Still unsure of how to react, she stood her ground.
Maybe he'd walk right by, or maybe she'd give him a spook. She wouldn't admit it, but she
much preferred the latter option. He was big, and it'd do her ego much good to catch
someone stronger than her off guard. Her pale eyes regarded him warily, but not
with hostility.

He halted and she fought not to show her anxiety, keeping still and staring right at the boy.
It wasn't like she could tear her eyes away either, his proportions spoke of a yearling but he'd
tower over most of the wolves and Sybil knew, and his colour was almost overwhelming. Blue
like the clearest day, or the hottest flame. She knew of canids who dyed their fur, but she didn't
think there was enough of a supply to cover the extent of his body, nor the materials to create
such a vibrant hue. He didn't seem like someone who could afford such an extensive
modification either. Maybe a son of a rich family, but she thought she knew them all.
It would be difficult not to if they had this much wealth.

He discovered her, and satisfaction shot down her spine when she witnessed his fear. Yes,
be afraid. Respect me. He asked her if she was a ghost, and she felt like laughing. Poor,
poor sod. Unsure on whether to torment him more, she responded in a light, playful tone.
"Maybe. Are you?"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the pair stand near the entrance of the crypt, the hot breath of death rolling out of the depths, Ricin begins to conjure fearful images of ghosts returning to the living world to seek their vengeance against those that have done them wrong. A subtle, light breeze skitters across the top of the snow-clad landscape, stirring the small diamonds inside the powder and causing them to sparkle as the frozen flakes tumble gently around. The wind picks up the wolf-dog’s long fur and flutters the ends about, making it appear to him that she is wreathed in a white halo of fur. Fear slowly falls away from his features as he instead looks on her with awe, wondering once more, if she is a spirit that walks the land.

He watches her with quiet reverence, almost expecting her not to speak because she is clearly not from this world. But the spell is broken and ruby eyes blink with surprise as his brow lifts when the stranger speaks. Her light, playful tone has his dark lips tugging upward in a sheepish, shy grin as the boy suddenly tries to playoff his pervious uncertainness. Lightly, he quips back, “Me? Real? Well… my brother says I am so it must be true.” He tosses in a wink and small chuckle as he dips his head in greeting and says, “My name is Ricin and uh, sorry for the strange question.” With that he purposefully relaxes his stance, the tension that had caused his shoulders to rise and neck to stiffen melting away with ease.

The boy’s gaze roams from the wolf-dog to focus on the entrance of the crypt behind her. As if to explain his weirdness, Ricin says, “There are stories about this place that say the dead wander the tunnels down there. And… if you listen closely… you can hear their cries of despair.” His bright eyes turn back to the pale wolf as he shrugs his light blue shoulders and smiles, adding, “But, I haven’t met any yet, so I can’t say for sure.”  While his body language may appear relaxed (and that is only due to the great effort he takes to appear that way) the blue boy’s nervousness shows itself in the way he rambles on.

"Ricin Dauner"

Sibyl eased as the tension broke. This was one spirit who wasn't looking to be exorcised too soon.
The boy seemed almost surprised when she spoke, sending another rush of satisfaction. When
you've stayed with family for a while, it was nice to know your effect on strangers. Her effect,
it turned out, was stronger than previously assumed. The boy recovered with ease. Hard to
hold a conversation perhaps, when one assumes the other is dead. He offered his name,
and she returned the favour. "Sybil, of the Pallas line." She introduced herself as
she had been taught. "And I've heard stranger." This was true.

She followed his gaze back to the crypt, sending wave of nausea in her gut when the
decay entered her nose again. She would like to get far away from that place, and
soon. "The dead you say?" She spoke, brows raised. "Not sure if they
wander, but it's certainly their home. Stories tend to have truth to
them though, I had a hard time finding anything that still breathed." The
boy seemed to make a great effort seeming casual, but whether it was
the crypt or simply social anxiety it was hard to say. She smiled at his
last comment, a strange one. She wouldn't say she was a spirit
outright, but she enjoyed tugging at the other yearling's
active imagination.

Now it was her turn to ask a strange question. "Now where exactly am I?" And why
are you blue? The second remained unspoken [with difficulty]. She'd save that one for later.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Ricin watches the white wolf-dog as he speaks, working to remove the worry of moments before. The blue boy offers his name and he is rewarded with the ethereal wolf’s name… Sybil. His shy smile broadens as they talk, he offers a deeper chuckle at her statement of having heard stranger quesitons. Ruby eyes slide off her to look at the yawning darkness behind the pale wolf as he continues to speak, sharing some of the outlandish tales he has heard. Her voice pulls his gaze back to her pale form and the tall boy nods his head slowly at her words, mind once more wandering down into the deep, dark depths where death lingers. After all that Ricin and Chade have been through, it would not surprise the blue wolf to know that the ghost stories mothers tell their pups at night are real.

Sybil inquires as to where exactly she is and Ricin tilts his head slightly, eyebrow raising in silent question as he says, “This place is called Stylianos Crypt and you just met its inhabitants.” A dark dipped paw with pale toes quickly gestures at the entrance behind the white wolf before he takes a step back to turn and look at the land around them. Taking a seat in the snow, tail curling around his pale blue haunches, Ricin lifts a paw to gesture at the mountain behind him that the crypt is attached as he says, “That’s Fenrir’s Maw. Lots of mountain goats up there but not a lot of wolves. I like to race along the steep paths when I have time.” A happy smile flitters across his lips before he turns to point at the nearby rolling hills.

Matter-of-factly, he says, “That over there is known as the Buffalo Knolls, a pack resides there but I don’t know much about them. And lastly…” He turns toward the East to jab his paw at the huge volcano that glows ominously in the distance while saying, “That’s Mount Volkan. A different pack claims that place. They are why I like to the goat paths up the mountain, it is much faster to get back to my pack that way.” Having given Sybil several landmarks, he turns his ruby gaze back to the white wraith and asks, “Do you know where you are now?” The light blue boy does not consider the fact that she may not be from these lands, only that she is lost in the white-covered landscape and, because of that, he does not offer any further information. A small, friendly smile rests is on his lips as he looks at the wolf that he is still isn’t quite sure is real or not.


"Ricin Dauner"

The girl listened intently, deeply invested in the subject of conversation. She’d betray no emotion
on her pale face, but her eyes were fixed and her ears only pointed in the boy’s direction. Every
time he’d list a new landmark however, a panicked feeling built in her chest and forced a slight
furrowing of pale brows. Sybil had asked, Ricin had answered, but even with his thorough
explanation she felt more lost than she’d ever been. Where. Was. She.

She bit down the rising anxiety, instead focusing on absorbing the information like a white little
sponge. Her gaze followed everywhere to blue boy pointed. She turned back to the crypt briefly,
not wanting to the place anymore of her attention. It stunk to high heaven of rot, she wondered
if she’d every get the stench out of her nose and off her coat. Maybe a freezing cold bath was in
order.

She turned to the mountain next, Fenrir’s Maw, longer this time. The behemoth towered above
the both of them, solemn and ever present. The girl felt a flicker of excitement, a part of her
eager to explore it’s harsh faces and paths, something that’d be harder to get away with
under the watchful gaze of her mother. She made a mental note to return to it eventually.

The plains to the south-west did less to interest her, but the mention of packs piqued her interest.
This land certainly wasn’t uninhabited. The fiery sentinel to the distant east was certainly a
strange place to live. She wondered what kind of wolves would live there, amongst hot and
angry earth, lava oozing like blood from a wound.

All these landmarks, and she still had not a single clue where she had ended up.

The other yearling settled back into his seat, looking to her for a response. She didn’t want to betray
how out of her depth she was, but she wouldn’t lie just yet, she wouldn’t know what grave she’d be
digging herself. She tactfully changed the subject, avoiding the question. “Uhm, the packs, what are
the packs here like?” She faltered in her words a bit, something that was incredibly rare for her.
She’d speak clearly or wouldn’t speak at all. Hopefully the boy wouldn’t pick up on this detail though.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Ricin plays the dutiful tour guide, pointing out landmarks and listing off what he knows. The way Sybil’s pale brow furrows has the blue boy wondering if she is lost. He goes on, only turning his full attention back to her once he had pointed out the volcano. A happy smile rests on his lips as he looks to the white wolf-dog waiting to hear if his landmarks had helped her. She deflects his question, asking instead about the packs and a light blue brow lifts in silent question. However, he chooses to allow her this change of topic and huffs out a breath that turns into a cloud of steam. A thoughtful look crosses the boy’s features as he begins, “Well, from the ones I have met, they vary. There is one called the Armada whose Alpha is very tall. They seem to like fighting the most.”

Humming softly for a moment, Ricin scrunches up his face as he tries to remember what other pack members he had met. Oh right! The two members down in Auster! Face brightens as his ruby eyes look to Sybil, offering, “I know there is another pack down in Auster that has a wild dog as a member. He is really cool and very colorful. That pack was more secretive but the two members I met were nice. The dog likes to explore like me.” A thought occurs to Ricin and he adds, “Oh, uh, this place is made up of two continents. We are in Boreas right now and the other is across a land bridge in the south. When it is winter here, it is summer down there. It is really strange!”

Looking around, he tries to think of what he missed and almost slaps his forehead as he looks back to the white wolf. Chuckling, Ricin says, “Oh, yeah, the pack I am apart of is called Elysium. The pack is run by Manea, who is a very nice wolf. She took my brother and I in when we were pups. There are a lot of her family members that make up the pack and they have customs that we all have to respect. Everyone there is really nice.” Well, they have all been mostly nice to the pale blue boy and he hates to a grudge. Shuffling his paws, the boy awkwardly kicks at the snow with a front paw as he says, “Would you like to meet them?” He doesn’t know why he feels like a pup tripping over his paws all of the sudden.

Well, worst comes to comes worst, they can get away from the crypt and he might be able to convince Chade to catch her some food. Bashfully the blue boy looks at Sybil, as he continues to roll the snow around with his paws.


"Ricin Dauner"

Sybil caught the raising of his brow, momentarily surprised he had picked up her deflection. She
didn’t know much about the lad but it was nice to know there was a brain between those red
eyes. She had found it was much easier to listen rather than respond, and she was getting
tired of deflecting. Good then that the yearling seemed to like the sound of his own voice.
She’d address her feelings later.

He began to talk again, and she again listened intently. He described the first alpha, and the girl
gave a wry smile. “Taller than you?” A question given not entirely in jest. It would be nice to know
if the wolves got any bigger than Ricin, though it was hard to imagine. The mention of a wild dog
intrigued the spirit, but she doesn’t let it show. Did he mean a dog? There was something about
the company of the strange canids that brought a sense of familiarity that no other creature
quite could. It would be nice to see someone like her. He described the strange dual nature
of the continents, and Sybil added another mental note to visit this place, Auster. A chance
to investigate, and find more allies perhaps.

A pause, and then another burst of conversation as Ricin remembers his own pack. The scent of
them clung to his fur, Sybil noticed. A name to the smell was welcome. He addresses customs
briefly, and the girl wondered if these wolves are similar to the superstitious folk back home.
Simple to guide, but unpredictable if you lacked full scope of their beliefs. He asked if she
would like to meet them, in a bashful way that made her consider her response carefully.
She had struggled to navigate, anxieties intermingling with inexperience. No matter how
much she postured, they were both gangly preteens who didn’t quite know what they
were doing. “May-be.” She responds carefully. “I don’t know.” Suddenly her paws seemed
awfully interesting to look at. She didn’t want to make any promises, and she with what
little she knew she might be claimed into the pack by force. She certainly didn’t think
Ricin would do that, but she couldn’t make assumptions about a stranger.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Ricin speaks to fill the empty void that would be taken up by silence, rattling on about the packs he knows. Speaking of the tall Alpha in the Armada, Sybil surprises the boy with a wry smile and joking, curious question. A soft chuckle rumbles out as his blue head dips in acknowledgement, saying, “Oh, yes. Even taller than me.” A brief smile flashes across his face before he continues to ramble on, only stopping once he has invited her to visit the pack lands. The boy can talk a big and pretend to be an adult all he wants but, in the end, he just a preteen uncertain if he making the decisions. Sybil responds and his head bobs up and down, as uncertainty flashes across his face and his own eyes fall down to watch the pale girl’s paws too.

After a moment, Ricin says, “I… I can at least show you a better place to sleep so you don’t have to stay in that awful stench. It… isn’t far! The mountain has caves and… and you could stay in one.” A nervous smile is on his lips as his eyes move up to her face, wanting Sybil to be safe out here in the wild. Maybe, if he knows where she is staying, the boy will be allowed to visit her and then, when she is comfortable, she can see the pack! A plan forms in his mind and the blue boy is already making plans to ask his brother for some extra food to bring her.


"Ricin Dauner"

The uneasiness built up, and the spirit became restless. The boy proposed his idea. It wasn’t a bad
one, but it wasn’t what Sybil felt she wanted. Ricin was eager, happy to make a new friend. His
enthusiasm was almost contagious, and the girl wanted say yes simply to keep a smile on his
face. But it would be a farce, and she didn’t owe this wolf that, or anything for that matter. Still,
it would bring her no joy to disappoint this first friendly face in a strange land. Her paws itched,
ready to run and search, explore every new nook and cranny without supervision and restriction.
Besides, she was built for this weather. Her coat would keep her warm as it had always done.
The girl had always been a traveller, only this time she was travelling alone.

“I’m fine, really. I don’t need a cavern to shelter me, I have my fur and my mind, and they’ll do
just fine for now.” She looked away briefly. “Look, I’ll be around, ok? I won’t travel too far,
at least not this early. There’s still plenty to see.” She glanced at the mountain, already
imagining herself climbing it’s ridges. Maybe in spring she’d visit.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅