Wind battered the willows, sending the fronds billowing nearly horizontally. While the area she and her small unit of family and friends were residing in wasn?t in the brunt of the storm that had rolled in, overnight, it was still fierce. Rain lashed the earth from a burgeoning sky, roiling with furious black clouds. Dawn had risen, but you could hardly tell to look at the sky. She settled within the confines of a higher area, under an outcrop of rocks, ears planed out an distaste. She?d been snoozing out in the open, and the sky had dumped a deluge of rain on her. Then it had started thundering. Wasn?t there some rule about it thundering first, then raining? She hoped the rest of her unit was safely denned in a high area; with the streams running through, and the river that fed the sea not far off, flooding was as much a danger here as in the worst hit areas. Falk had gone out to hunt, she recalled. Her heart fluttered with worry for him, and she fought the urge to charge out and find him. He was a strong, tall male, and could take care of himself. But, there as always the danger of him wandering into a bad area, and being hit over the head again. Anxiety flooded through her. A flash of lightning lit the dooms-day dark sky outside, A spare second later, there was a ripping sound, followed by a crescendo of thunder, loud enough to rattle the loose stones at her paws. The wind howled like a funeral dirge. Surreal forced herself to curl at the back of the shelter, and wait out the storm.

Albion had left the east for the sole purpose of avoiding these damned storms. But no. Here he was, being battered by the elements once again. He growled to himself, all the while cursing the gods for their poor sense of humor. He'd heard a fair share of shamans and wandering monks talk about how much they loved their subjects, even if none seemed to agree upon who or what was really up there looking down on them. As far as Albion was concerned they were all half-baked because any entity that would bring this hell to the terra was no deity of his. Light cracked down from the sky, searing into a proud oak not forty paces from him, the explosion of it's thunder loud enough to make him crouch down into a cowering stance, belly fur brushing the muddied earth, and ears pinned. As far as reactions to sacrilege go, he joked to himself even as he stood there frozen with fear and quivering, that has to be one of the best. Slowly, hesitantly, and with an upward-turned gaze he rose and began his journey once more. The pale brute slunk across the forest floor until the oaks and maples transitioned into a grove of Willow trees. Several bore roots which had had their gnarled roots exposed by time and flooding. He could see spots where the old flood plains had held sway and looked downhill to where he could only assume a now raging waterway waited, hidden below the terrace which made up its current boundaries. Willows did love to drink, or so his mother had taught him. A new gust of wind pressed in upon him, stronger than most, and he turned his way up hill to where an appealing tangle of roots lay, providing what he could only hope would be adequate shelter. Much to his surprise, he found to pseudo den already occupied by a fae who looked about as displeased as he felt. He blinked against the rain, and in surprise, tilting his head tot he left. "Not that we're best buds or anything," he began, voice raised over the crescendo of sound, "but I'd really like to get out of this weather. Is there room in there for one more?" Gods, he didn't know what he'd do if she said no. He was hardly the sort to press someone against their will but getting washed away in a flash flood sounded just as appealing. "Talk" "You" Think

Surreal

A voice broke through her light doze, and her head came up in surprise, and hope. However, it wasn?t Falk out in the rain, but a stranger. She registered his words, and looked around at the sheltered inside of her refuge. Well, there was room enough. So she shifted to one side, an invitation to come out of the rain and wind. She left room enough for her to get out or move if he decided to prove dangerous or frisky, but also enough room for him to be fully sheltered. She waited until he?d come in, before speaking. ?Quite the storm out there, isn?t it?? A light attempt at conversation as she studied the male. He was about her age, she guessed, with an interesting set of markings; a black mask on his face, the black going up the bridge of his nose, between his eyes, then fanning out into a type of shield over eyes and brow. His eyes were a light blue, like Falks, and for the moment, she could read no malice or ill intent in their depths. He was likely just as disgruntled by the bad weather as she?d been. ?I?m Surreal Adravendi, by the way.? Mismatched blue and gold eyes watched him as she wondered if he?d introduce himself as well. He looked strong, well built. Possibly an asset to keep in mind in the future, when he pack was ready to accept worthy wolves.

Albion spent a breath trying to determine if the fae meant her comment as sarcastic or placating. It seemed the sort of words that one might offer in such a situation but... No, he supposed not. He would nod noncommittally, never really one for overt affection towards strangers. He shied away from packs for the sole reason that he wasn't terribly social to begin with. "M'names Albion," he would offer by way of mumbling. It wasn't his greatest attempt at friendship but he was cold and wet and had very nearly been smitten by the gods only seconds ago. He had half a mind to turn into the rock face and dig in further yet, down and down until he couldn't hear the driving winds any longer. They were beginning to make his ears ring. He stepped far enough away from the fae that his shaking wouldn't dampen her before tossing his shoulders this was and that. It didn't do much besides puff him up, but the sooty male didn't mind. It was the effort that counted, right? He was about to return to his previous seat closer in (and farther from the downpour) when he caught sight of something jostling about in the trees. He paused a breath, making sure of his senses before stepping forward and squinting through the deluge. "What on earth is..." Another step and he cursed explosively, if under his breath. "Shit, do you see that? That's a fuckin' bear, I'm outta here." It lumbered from side to side, hulking form much larger than his own, and cutting a course up the riverbank from and straight towards the outcrop they occupied. If he had to guess it planned to shelter there as well, but from all he knew of bears they weren't exactly keen on sharing their space. Surreal was welcome to follow for all he cared, but if she decided to linger it would be on her own skin. He'd rather die a quick death by lightning strike or getting crushed by a tree than a painful mauling. The ashen male slipped back into the raim as the hulking ursa pushed it's way through the last wave of willow fronds between it and the rock outcrop he'd had so much hope for. "Talk" "You" Think

(Hope you don't mind me scaring off the bear.)

Surreal: 1 Bear: 0

Surreal

The male introduced himself as Albion. Surreal nodded, watching as he stepped away to shake himself as dry as a wolf with wet fur could get in a rain storm. Something seemed to catch his attention, however, and he stepped forward. Surreal rose to her paws, peering in the same direction. His curse and identification was followed by a rather startling declaration of running. And like that, the silver, white, and dark splotched male was bounding away like a cowardly little mouse. Surreal stared after the male in mild shock. Her instincts had led her to this particular crop of rocks for a good reason. The underside of the stones that had fallen, years ago to make this shelter were barely half a foot above her ears. That bear was not going to get in there with her. So she retreated to the furthest point away from the ledge mouth, turning and squaring. Soon enough, the bears beady eyed face popped into sight, a brief flash of lightning illuminating the head and shoulders. It was a black bear. Unlike a Grizzly, Black bears were more cowardly, and less willing to duke it out over a measly patch of dry air that it couldn?t even fit into. Its short sighted eyes, dazed by the flash of lightning, blinked, and it snuffled curiously. Possibly hoping to wedge in anyway. Judging by its relaxation, it hadn?t noticed the small den was occupied. That worked to her advantage. No way was she letting this bear stick around the willows, where children were around. So the element of surprise was needed. She waited until the precise moment, then lunged forward, a guttural roar erupting from her throat. She slashed for the startled bear?s muzzle with gaping jaws, carving a pair of gashes across the brown muzzle before the bear scarpered. It wasn?t sure what had hit it, and wasn?t willing to wait around in case whatever it was had been bigger and better equipped to kick it?s furry rear. Surreal lunged forward in time to see the bear, a juvenile, now that she looked more closely at it, tumble head over rump down the slope, splash into a stream, then stumble away, in the direction it had come from. Surreal shook her head slowly. Normally, she wouldn?t even mess with a black bear. But with her family, and her second cousins, so young, nearby, she would fight a grizzly if it meant they?d be alright. Granted, had she been in the open, she would have run, being pregnant with precious lives. Now that the threat was past, she sat down, and waited for the adrenaline to stop thrumming through her veins, and for her heart to slow down.