L-O-V-E on my main ho, that's pucci (get what I'm sayin'?)

Maybe @Gyrfalcon or @Quicksilver ?

She gradually was getting used to the mountains scope, but still occasionally found her paws twisting on the landscapes. She needed to get the hang of the territory more ; it was a mixture of slopes that were overall difficult and flat lands that held like a mini-haven in-between. Cracks where laid trees and a place to rest, some even carried dens to the assumed packmates Orlaith has yet to know. She tried not to think about how there was another woman that was supposedly her 'past' self, not that she believed. But there was a curiosity.. For only she knew of her homeland. 

But there was a calling, to this mountain. A gut feeling like the Gods were trying to drag her so, even if she generally never prayed to them. She knew they were there, the gates of Valhalla and all that shazz, but.. She wasn't religious, and often simply tossed such thoughts aside. Wasn't part of her personality, but was, part of her history. Even if the God's weren't the cause of it, she'd be damned not to trust her gut. Only reason she survived, anyway.

"How the fuck do I get to the peaks," so the fireclad warrior said, as she squinted up.. Trying to figure out the correct pathway to get all the way up.

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The smell of blood flocked to her nose, and her fur raised slightly. A narrowed gaze around in a guard, for when there was blood, there was trouble. Most pack wolves who spar don't even drop blood unless something went too far, but the scents were so heavily mixed with Shiroshika and Vanderfell, she would have trouble determining whether an enemy was afloat, or but a mistake within the works. Nonetheless her fur raised slightly, as slowly it came closer and —

Did she make a mistake joining? Orlaith trusted her gut ; and though the place was relatively crazy, there was a calling to her to these peaks. A gradual sense that she felt like she belonged to it, and what seemed unfamiliar was becoming more familiar faster then she would've thought ; for though muscle was there, her brain often lacked in so. She of course was curious of who this Orlaith was, and was awfully skeptical over everyone seemingly knowing her, and saying she died.

"I don't know you," they weren't Vanderfell, they smelled of the other occupying pack, "and i'm not dead. If i'm so dead where's my body?" maybe a bit on edge for the second-accusation, "whatever, you okay? You looked injured."

Even if she wasn't a fan of this moment, she was still, a guard. Ready to haul ass if someone attacked her.

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 Oh, ah. Didn’t know her. Sure, sure! As if they hadn’t talked about pelt making and as if they hadn’t made awkward small talk before she stayed in the warrior’s den. Yeah, sure. She thought the conversation was awkward too, maybe it was a blessing that the other she-wolf didn’t remember. Whatever.

 She didn’t feel like dealing with this shit. So, she wouldn’t. If Orlaith wanted to pretend –or perhaps more nefarious, didn’t remember—who she was then Gyrfalcon wasn’t going to argue. Maybe dying did something to your memory… noted. ”Mauled by a tiger and the rest is probably in the ground.” Tact wasn’t really her strong point, especially not when she just got done being mauled herself.

 ”I’m good although I was looking for a healer just to check. Pfft! You should see the other fucker that did this.” She gave a harsh laugh, annoyed and angered by the whole ordeal. She snarled, “humor” seemingly forgotten as she continued on. ”Life around here is shit. It’s like this place has some sort of sadistic sense of humor, you know?” Probably not, since she’d come back and forgotten everything. She would probably learn real fast how crazy it was in this god-forsaken place.

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"The fuck you mean a tiger?" Now Orlaith had her of the enemies, offhandedly to be aware of a few ; but she hadn't really heard specific details, nor' did she ask of this.. Mysterious other-self to how she died. Thus the first time she heard that it was in-fact a tiger that did so. She had half the mind to actually dig up this supposed grave of hers, because for the life of her, she did not rememeber, and surely would if there was a moment she died. She downright thought that the Gods were playing a trick and sent some kind of doppleganger, a wolf that she felt was measuring up that was in-fact, herself, "you know what, forget it. I don't want to know, first time seeing everyone, but lookin' like second-time they're seeing me." She huffed, in an obvious annoyance.

"What'd the fucker look like? Beat his ass next time and warn away." Lightly a snarl emitted, not at Gyrfalcon but more of an annoyance someone actually dared to attack another that held an obvious weakness. A coward, the woman so thought — but also a clear view of someone that needed to be looked after.. If they attacked the other, that could mean they would go after other members of the pack as well that were even weaker. The woman before her didn't seem weak, had a fire in her step — but that didn't extend to others.

"Yeah, tell me about it," apparently she died once, but y'know, she standing around, "is he still nearby?"

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Oh ho ho, so lucky her for not remembering that asshole but Gyrfalcon was more than happy to explain. "A big fucking ugly orange cat with stripes. He's been a pain in our asses for seasons now." Hopefully he wouldn't be a problem anymore... but they would see.

 "You know, I bet that fucking sucks." Imagine dying, coming back, and not remembering anything. It must be dumb with everyone insisting they knew her and she having no idea. So, she wouldn't push the envelope. If she wanted to drop it, Gyrfalcon wouldn't go all in on making her remember. Just let her know what she knew now and that would be the end of it.

 "He was a big motherfucker. His fur was dark, mostly black and gray, with some brown on him." She screwed up her face, trying to recall any identifying marks but he had been mostly nondescript. "I think he had some creamy colored spots under his eyes and his eyes were shifty-looking and yellow." That's about all she had for the warrior. "I gave as good as I could. I've never been a warrior in the best of times." She shrugged, annoyed at her own lack of fighting skills.

 "Dunno, he was few miles away in that direction." She pointed with her nose westward. "No telling if he tried to follow me or gave the fuck up."She sighed, clearly annoyed at the situation. "Hopefully he gave up because I'm sick of dealing with all this dumb crap." Couldn't everyone just leave them alone? That's all they wanted. It was all she wanted.

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"You mean a tiger?" She vaguely remember Ira as well didn't refer to the beast by name, only an infer it was similar to a cougar. She had seen those beasts, swarming the forests ; where no wolf could attack one. Even a body of many would always come out with a few losses to the mix. Wolves were impressive, with strength and beauty and the pack stigma that came, for many wolves were never alone within the groups they run with.

"At least he didn't attack twice," if she were to face him again, Orlaith doubted the wolf before her would come out with just a few scratches. A wariness around, for more and more enemies seem to keep finding themselves within the vander domain. She huffed and sniffed, "if he comes near, call me, you can hold your own, but we can beat the fuck outta of him together," she so grinned with a mischief.

Might as well cause someone some mental damage for fucking with pack wolves.

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 "Yeah, a tiger." Did she just realize what a tiger was? Maybe her brain was extra scrambled from dying and it took a little longer before processing all of the information she was throwing at the big woman.

 At least he didn't attack twice? "Hmph, yet. With this fucking place I wouldn't be surprised if he magically poofed into our dens." Wouldn't that be fun? It would be par for the course, though. Another cherry on top of the shit cake that was her and her packmates' lives. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that." She gave a wicked grin. Clearly, she was happy to deliver any sort of beatdown that Orlaith would help her give to the wayward soul. "You'll be the first one I call. You can hold him down while I rip out some more of his fur." The dream team: three-legged leggy wolf and the gigantic warrioress.

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"Be a damn fool to appear with all enemies. I died against him yeah? Then he wouldn't expect it to see a haunting face." She snorted lightly at the very thought. Orlaith would be very much spooked if a victim under her own claws re-appeared like nothing happened. She'd be more satisfied if they remembered her, yelled at her, cried and wanted vengeance. Being ignored, was something hard to face.

Although if he appeared regardless, between multiple wolves that hold a grudge against him.. Even as a tiger wouldn't stand a chance. Although she only knew of said-harassment, it didn't sound like the tigers she knew. Solitary, would only fight if strayed too close to their territory or competed against their food. Something was very off about the tiger.

"If they show their mug, they'll be the ones re-aliving next." She had to laugh at how fucked up it was and chuckled.

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