Her ankle had healed up pretty well. Cyanide figured she'd need to thank that healer if she ever saw her again. What was her name? Inoki or something. Yeah, she'd been nice enough to patch Cy up, and give her the warning that if she really fucked around she'd never be able to walk on it again. That was a scary notion, one that still made her shudder. Exploring. She wouldn't stop exploring. Rain was coming down around her shoulders, a light summer shower to punctuate the afternoon. On long legs, the wraith broke through the curtain of willows. From beneath the trees, Cyanide could hear the pattering of raindrops, but felt them less on her back. This was comfortable. Brilliant gaze, keen on the world around her, she was happy to explore. Beneath her paws the ground was soft, springy and mossy. It was kinda fun actually-- she couldn't find anything to complain about. A yearling alone in a world that was far bigger than she.

Samhain couldn't say that he was the biggest fan of rain, not while he openly wandered these unfamiliar lands. Quite frankly, it was uncomfortable, leaving plant debris tangled in his pelt and a chill upon his skin. When the scent of petrichor flooded his nose, he braced himself for the summer shower that was to follow. And follow it did; soon the soft pitter patter of droplets on foliage was all the young male could hear. Eventually the terrain would be littered with shallow puddles and the usually springy moss would leak water underfoot.

Instinctively, he ducked under the overhanging willow branches that blocked out the sky above his head. The canopy was enough to shield him from the drizzling rain. He took this time to shake out his raven fur, ensuring that all four of his red feathers still adorned his coat. It was times like these he felt the slightest pang of regret for leaving his birthplace. Surely, he'd think to himself, this would be more tolerable in a proper den. At least that had been comfortable, even if he wasn't happy. Instead, Samhain had become a drifter in these foreign territories. At bare minimum? He appreciated the freedom, despite how his bellyaching may imply otherwise.

His orange eyes peered out from the shade of the willow fronds, taking in his surroundings. Perhaps it was paranoia, but a nagging feeling in his stomach enticed him to observe. Lucky he did, as the adolescent managed to catch a glimpse of an inky black coat disappearing into the shelter of another weeping willow. Curiosity gnawed at his gut, tempered only by a healthy dose of distrust. He wasn't stupid enough to go flouncing up to any strange canine. On his journey here, he'd stumbled onto stretches of land that reeked of other wolves, speculated on their hunts and skirmishes from afar. Samhain was in no rush to see how deep a pack wolf could really bite, his ability to patch up certain wounds notwithstanding. However, even through the scent of rain-worn vegetation, he couldn't detect any traces of pack scent he had become accustomed to. This wolf's fragrance seemed entirely their own.

Tentatively, he began to creep through the curtains of willow vines, slowly towards this stranger. He could almost see them through gaps in the branches, and for a bittersweet moment, he felt a twinge in his heart. He had left someone who resembled this stranger, left them in his homeland - tall, lithesome, with solid obsidian fur. His mind began to wander, and and as his thoughts began to race, his gait changed to match. Deliberate steps became hurried, clumsy. Finally, he'd stop completely in his tracks. He was out in the open, in full view of this stranger, but his mind was elsewhere. Their scent was stronger now, fresher, and it was vaguely...feminine. This was not who he sought.

He fixed his piercing amber eyes on this wanderer, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing. "Well," he deadpanned. "You're new."

edit: typo

The breeze that blew through the willows carried all sorts of strange, fascinating smells. Cy didn't really know what to make of all of it-- there had to be a pack sorta nearby, right? This didn't belong to them, though. That was fine. There was also the intense smell of damp that seemed to fill everything around her. It wasn't bad damp though... was there such a thing as good damp? Not death, not decay, just... mushy. Beneath her paws, the mossy ground gave easily. It was soft, and she had good traction here. Must be a bitch when it's slippery though, yikes. Around her, the willows seemed to go on forever. Forever, and ever, and ever. Cyanide wasn't unhappy with it though, and she couldn't find much to complain about-- no, really. Imagine Cy not complaining? Someone write home about that one. Still, she rather liked this place, the girl decided. Her steps were muffled as she padded across the ground, leaving her feeling otherworldly. That was the goal, right? Otherworldly and vaguely threatening. Yeah, Cy would go with that. The edge was suited with her age. There was someone else out here, closer than the amorphous trappings of just a nearby pack. A boy. Still, the shifting breezes left the wraith not quite sure exactly where he was. Not until he spoke. The words that came weren't unlike Oki's, and Cyanide's head snapped around in their direction. "Says who?" Brilliant pink gaze sharp, accusatory. It wasn't necessarily wrong, Cy had only been here for a season at most, but this wasn't like the last boy she'd met. He'd caught her just as she dragged herself from the sea. No, this boy knew nothing of that. With long, graceful steps she came towards him through the willows. Cy was sizing him up, openly curious. What was it to him, anyway?

The corner of his mouth twitched at the sound of her abrasive tone. It was always refreshing to come across someone else with bite. A verbal spar, a game of wits, whatever you wanted to call it, kept things interesting. Kept the grating sense of stagnation at bay, at any rate. With her fiery rose-hued optics and viper tongue, she definitely didn't strike him as mundane.

"Says me," he retorted, taking his own steps foward. The claws of his white forepaws sunk into the soft, mossy ground. It was gonna get all up between his toes now. Great. Mirroring each step this stranger took toward him, he raised his chin. Bright orange eyes bore into hers. They glittered, daring her to look away, to break first. She may be taller but was her will stronger? Who could say?

"I've never seen you before. That makes you new to me," he clarified smugly. Once upon a time, he'd been told that he could be a bit of a smart-ass. Surely that didn't apply now. He was the epitome of politeness, he was.

If this was a battle of wits, Cyanide came to the table armed to the teeth. It was hard not to be-- she'd gotten this far on her own. She'd survived for this long on her own. She needed to be smart, sharp as a tack to get by. A battle, but it could also be a game. A game was okay. The wraith of a girl could play, and play she would. Hell, Cy was damn near allergic to mundane at this point. Mundane meant a false sense of security. A false sense of security spelled death. She was always on her toes, always in wait for something to jump out and snap her neck. There was danger around damn near every corner out here, and she wasn't going to be anyone's victim.

Says me the boy says. He's around her age, young. Cy wouldn't be the first one to bow, to break the eye contact that she held so fiercely. Catlike steps over the soft ground, and she's drawn towards him with a strange, brilliant curiosity. Her head quirked to the side, gaze calculating. Strange. All of it was strange. Still... Cy didn't hate it. She narrowed her pink gaze as she drew closer to the boy. Ugh, boys.

That makes you new to me, dramatically, Cyanide rolled her eyes. "Who died and made you the center of the universe?" Her words are silver, not venomous. They dance and play in the space between them, a breeze picking up in the willows. The woods around them seem to be alive. It makes Cyanide feel more alive too. She'd come out here to explore, and she'd certainly get her money's worth. This place, as strange as it was, happened to be fucking brilliant too. "Who are you?" The question slips past her lips easily, curiously. Cy would study the strange boy and his answers. Learning. Always something new.

"speech"

CODE BY SHELBY