The lanky male moved like a specter through the dark forest. Even in the darkness of night, the land was cloaked in a seemingly impenetrable fog. It hung heavy and dense over the earth, providing enough moisture to keep the summer night more bearable in temperature. From beneath the light of the moon he moved, his only source of light the faint light from above that shone sporadically through the thick treetops above. The night was his domain -- and there was no hesitation in his step as he journeyed through the forest.

His pawsteps were quiet, hardly more than a faint shuffling as he navigated the tangled vines and tree-roots that grew on the forest floor. His eyes, glimmering emeralds that shone fiercely through the darkness, would attempt to pierce the thick fog to see into the distance. The brute's ears would swivel, searching for something to entertain him on this dark night, for while he treasured Katja's company she was admittedly not always the most entertaining companion.

Before embarking on his nighttime escapade, he'd found a quite interesting plant to consume -- devils weed, he'd heard it been called, and he felt the name was rightfully earned. For the thoughts that lurked inside his head grew more wicked as the effects of the herb fully set in; his mind seemed to slip slightly with each step, into a dull delirium. Pleased, he would tilt his head upward to gaze through the dense fog, occasionally seeing the gentle glimmer of stars from above, grinning lopsidedly at the sky, thanking the goddess Nótt silently for allowing the sun to rest and darkness to come and cleanse the earth.

The near silence was broken by a fit of laughing, high pitched and a little wild as the female's acid green eyes searched for something, anything, to entertain her. Well, more than she already was, her white and violet limbs making her stumble across the ground, laughing as she ran onto a tree. Damn, she shouldn't have eaten so much of that plant; right at the moment, Lavendel wasn't sure where she was or what was so funny. The ground was twirling around her paws, and the female wasn't sure where she'd end up by the end of all this. Right now, everything was just so funny. Giggling, the female stopped and glanced around her. "Where am I?" She muttered quietly....And then started laughing again.

After a few moments of wandering, giggling, and bumping into a lot of trees, Lavendel finally found another that was looking at the sky. As the white and violet female came forwards, giggling, she noticed that they had close to the same eye color, and spoke in a very loud voice. "Hey! You have my eye color!" A giggle escaped her again as Lavendel leaned in closer, giggling and still speaking pretty loud. "Are we twins?!"

The silence of the forest was interrupted by the sound of manic laughter. Though high-pitched and gleeful, it seemed peculiarly vacant and bizarre to him. His senses would slowly fixate on the sound as he swung his head low to the ground, and then to the left, searching for the source of the jovial sound. The voice was accompanied by incoherent speech, muffled by the distance that separated the two of them, as well as the dense fog that hung over the forest floor. Anxiety began to creep into his heart, wondering if someone had begun to follow him. Perhaps Loki had sent someone to follow him, he thought; or was it Víðarr, the god of the forest, sent to find him? Kapra would jerk his entire body around dramatically, searching for the one who was approaching.

Slowly, the sound of the stranger's pawsteps grew louder. The brute's eyes would widen dramatically as his gaze searched for her, settling on her when he finally found her.  "Und so kommt sie," he breathed, his nose flaring as he exhaled sharply. His eyes would widen a bit more as he took in her coat -- a stark contrast of pink and white, like nothing he'd ever seen before. "Wie ein Geist, von Víðarr sich gerufen. Obwohl - das ist eigenartig - sie spricht !" he'd muse, his voice deeply skeptical despite the animated, bewildered look that had come over him. And yet he would jerk further away from her, his lips quivering as he examined her. He could not trust her, no, not until she proved herself. "Who has sent you?" he'd inquire sharply, his hackles raising, watching as the colors of her fur seemed to shift, ebbing and flowing like the waves of the ocean before his very eyes as his sanity begin to tilt under the influence of the plant he'd decided to consume.

The male muttered a few words, and Lavendel would tilt her head, words flowing from her jaws, interrupted by bouts of giggling. "Who has sent me? I would say, if I'm correct, that the devil himself did." Her acid green eyes narrowed as something crawled away from the other wolf and towards her, floating in the air as if a small cloud. Shaking her head, Lavendel spoke again, her left white and violet limb moving slowly as she attempted to gently put her paw on the male's snout, over his markings. "And what of you? Who has sent you here? Did the devil send you as well?" The female wasn't sure what she was really talking about, either, but the plants had long since tilted her sanity. Well, not that the white and violet female was the most sane to begin with. "Also, Sie haben gefunden, was Sie gesucht haben?"

His vibrant green gaze was deeply skeptical as he examined the female. If she was sent by Víðarr, why was it that she could speak? Was his mind simply playing tricks on him again? It felt more likely that it was Loki, sent to deceive him and to test his faith to the gods he had sworn himself to. His gaze widened as she spoke.  "Do you mean to imply you have been sent by Hel herself?" he'd snap accusingly, his nose wrinkling. This strange girl, with her pink markings and white coat, was certainly not a minion of Hel's. The ruler of the underworld would not choose this bright, chipper girl as one of her followers. He found himself frowning deeply at her, though a spark of recognition flashed in his eyes when she began to speak in his native tongue.

"Fassen Sie mich nicht an!" he'd spit suddenly, reeling away from her touch with fervor.  "I come of my own accord, serving the gods that have given me life." His gaze was skeptical still, and he found himself jerking further from her. His vision seemed to waver even more, his jaw unhinging slightly as he found a slow drip of saliva falling from his jaws. "What is your purpose in coming to me, Frau?"

The viking wraith slipped through the mist-wreathed forest like just another ghost. Her dark paws made scarcely a sound as she leaped fallen trees and navigated the dark trails to follow the fading scent trail left by her cousin. He didn't need a keeper; he was a Finnvi, a viking, and he could take care of himself... but she knew he'd been ingesting herbs that could be dangerous to take on your own, the sort that could have you chasing your shadow off the edge of a cliff, and so she'd taken it upon herself to watch and look out for him. From a distance, of course, not wanting to ruin his fun because while she might not approve of the mind-altering herbs in general she saw no reason to smother one of the few Finnvi in Alacratia with her ways. She heard his voice and slowed to a stop so there was no crinkle of underbrush to alert him that he was being kept guard over. But he wasn't speaking to just himself and the gods this time, no - a female voice answered him, and Katja stiffened at her words. A subaudible growl vibrated her throat, and the viking continued forward out of the brush to stand beside her cousin. "Heil, Kaprasíus," she murmured, a soft touch of her muzzle to the side of his throat in a gesture of reserved affection as well as a surreptitious check to his heart rate. In Norwegian she continued, "Du synes å ha funnet noe av interesse. Er denne skapningen som plager deg?"