bloom

@Vendrussel

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He knew he had to be getting pretty far north now. The air carried a harsher bite to it, the sea churned, and the larger ridge of mountains that had once been more distantly to his east seemed to creep ever closer to the shore. The coastline shifted between thick sand to slick stones; there was less leeway between the boreal forests and coastal grassland too. Minor things that he took note of as he jogged further north, even if in the predawn they seemed more like charred silhouettes than welcoming woodlands.

Yet as the thinnest band of light began to wash over—the sun rising between horizon and cloud bank overhead—his gaze was drawn outward to the sea once more in spite of the piercing light. The trip had taken a bit out of him, truth be told, but he hadn't paced himself like he should have. The cooler air of the north that met him off the water had only spurred him along faster, if for the worry that winter would embrace them all, and swiftly.

Altair cut through a thin band of conifers, ducking below reaching spruce boughs and emerging out the other side of them; it was here that he first took in the sight of the bay itself, and of the towering stones that stood sentinel and near ominous. He hadn't seen them before, not with the way the darkened stones had blended in against a quickly lightening sky. But now? They were there, almost close, but worthy of capturing his attention to draw him in closer with the way they stood out from the pastel backdrop. Like the Ichorwood, it was a bizarre scene to take in... but that was becoming relatively normal.
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The air smelled of sea-salt and those who claimed to it's isle. Wolves of the ford guarding closely as the Alpha healed, and her messenger off to find Empyrean to ask for help. Troubles, coming as the winter was among them. Snow dripping from the sky itself and yet to drench the world in it's white, but was enough where soon it would rapidly embrace the winter land. The sea itself was especially tough during those times, cold to the touch in and out of the water.. It can be counted dangerous to slip between land and ocean, if not the proper precautions to take. A warmth to hold from another, or venture forth into the denning of some burrow. 

Yet, she still couldn't even hunt. A broken leg dangled from the back as she limped through the island. An ear twitching with an irriation, she knew surely there was some who stopped by the borders, and yet Vendrussel could do nothing about it. Barely could she make out any who stormed to the beach as well, for the tinimdating spires blocked her view. Occasionally through the peaks could she see someone — and the northern woman swore she could see a strange would wandering through.. A pace, as she limped back and forth with a tail swaying in an irritation, a mouth turning to a snarl.

A pathway was between the brim and sepulcher, though rarely could it be spotted. Stones held a pathway through, and though one could walk on it — through the murky waters it was hard to see. Yet on certain days when the tides were low, the stones were able to be seen. She watches as the sea lowered ever so slightly, and welcomed whoever was across the seaway.

If they so ventured though — they would meet a rather hostile woman, for though injured, she was still a territorial wolf. It was unknown who was at the other end of the pathway.

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The closer to the water he went, the more the cold wind whipped at his face. The towering spires drew closer and Altair realized that they seemed to sprout from the sea itself; the sound of the rough waters crashing against the stone was deafening, at least along that stretch. Like dark fingers ever reaching for the sky, it was in the span of the next few minutes that he began to realize there was something lurking between them—an island. His curiosity piqued and he moved towards it with purpose.

Finding the narrow swath of land that bridged one side to another, he followed it and the rise it took to combat the sea, the stones slick beneath his feet. He had to be careful and in more than one sense; the scent of other wolves met him less than halfway across. Combined with the chill that sent a shiver down his spine, he only hoped he had found the right place, the next stop in his travels that was even remotely friendly. The scent of a border only grew stronger as he made his way past the first couple of towering pillars and perhaps true to its name, the sepulcher soon began to feel tomb-like in essence.

Through the sea mist ahead, he spied out a figure at last, snaking back and forth.

It wasn't the sort of motion he associated with good will and rightly so, his steps declined in their pace until he came to a natural stop. His gaze narrowed to try and bring the figure into view, but the haze did what it could to obscure even his keen eyesight. So he called out lowly to it, angling himself as best he could out of the sea spray and should it come to such, so that he could make a haste retreat to safety if the shifting shade of a figure came barrelling out at him.

Assuming of course, he could keep his footing on the stones.
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She limped, trying to keep her leg above the sand so it did not pull through. Any touch that was given had hurt, and knew well she should not be moving, at all. Her leg was broken and the alignment was difficult for wolves, she could remember those who did not treat themselves well, and when they healed, their broken parts were within wrong positions. She laid when she could, but Vendrussel couldn't confine herself within her den forever and was often walking about the island, or laying by the coast. She just could not get beyond, the waters were a path she could currently not swim by — no matter how many battles were happening within the brim.

It was a shame they could not mark the ocean itself, for as much as they tried the scent  would be wisped away to the depths. Anything covered in waters would remain useless, and she snarled slightly as the figure did not turn away and continued forth. She wondered if the other saw her and purposely came forth — was this an enemy? They were a relatively average shadow, and did not pale like those of Northfall, or any she knew of. Too far to currently see what they truly looked like, or even smell the difference from the salt.

Yet as they grew closer they seemed awfully familiar.. She'd have to wait until they crossed — only to be met with a broken wolf.

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The path worked similar to the boulder-hopping Desdemona had introduced him to along the slopes of Empyrean; his focus had to shift from divided to whole as he worked his way along, though he couldn’t help but steal glances of the spire-like stones jutting from the rolling tide. Unusual as they were, their intrigue was the proper sort of lure to bait him along… until in one of those stolen glance moments he took sight of a figure coursing an angry path along the opposing wall.

That was enough to make him stop abruptly.

As he balanced precariously with nails scraping against wet stone, met with sea spray, it did not take him more than a moment to ascertain who from what he was looking at. Dark as the stones, his squinted gaze against the choppy, brackish waters plucked a very different image out of his memory, but one he hadn’t forgot.

“Vendrussel!”

A smile split his maw, his tail waving behind him.
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"You know if I wasn't in this state, i'd tackle you off those rocks for border crossing." Though words seemed like malice, she grinned at the boy and limped closer to the edge. A smile was upon her face from someone she knew long ago — one that was met within the plains long ago. She was surprise to him here after all — he was the one who introduced her to Empyrean and helped lead Kei to their direction to send help.. But when she looked around, the black dragon was not there. 

She couldn't meet him at the brim for obvious reasons, and wasn't too against him crossing. Though territorial that Dragonford was, she didn't want it to be a land that not even friends could venture into. The isle was sacred, but not forbidden. Even new members would find themselves though guarding the beach more, that didn't completely deny them to the isles sanctuary.

Maybe a slight excuse to interact with someone, but who but the readers would know that?

"What are you doing here?"

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When she didn’t warn him away, he dared to go closer if only to join her; it was better than trying to yell over the perpetual roar of the ocean and truth be told, he didn’t want to be swept off that rock by an errant, angry wave. Solid ground felt good beneath him, though by then concern had found a way to lace itself once again into him. She looked worse for wear, at least compared to the last time they had met on windswept plains.

But first things first: “I ran into someone from your pack,” he explained, “she said you were in trouble and needed help.” It was a simplified version of what he had been told, no more than the bare minimum to push past and into more questions.

“What happened to your leg?” A furrowing brow entrenched itself even more as he gestured; he wondered if their troublesome neighbors had done more than just rile up things along the watery borders.
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At least it solved one part of the equation ; that he and Kei had met each other at a crossroad, and passed by one another, "As don't we all," a more solemn in smile as she chuckled lightly on the matter. It seemed like everyone one way or another was in desperate need of bodies — and she would be fine with one or two guards, but didn't feel it was right to place it all upon those individuals for the time being. Even if the future, would lose, and gain some.

Her nose lifted and pointed toward the north. Through the spires of the sepulcher there was still the mountain that blocked their view to the tundra itself, "Northfall," even the words had her tail lash within an anger and ocean-eyes narrow, "they are greedy. Despite claiming a mountain they also said to claim this isle."

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He followed her gaze to the distant, hazy shadows of mountain as they reached up like jagged teeth from a crooked maw and thought them far enough away not to cause trouble. Thought being the operative word—he now knew differently and wondered if his mother or father would have felt secure with such close neighbors. Probably not, as both knew and had more experience with matters he was only coming to grasp.

He let his gaze linger there for a moment more.

“Your scout,” he paused there, to recall her, “Kei? I told her to go on to Empyrean and talk to my parents. So I came here—what can I do to help?” Once more he held Vendrussel in his sight; what could any of them do? There were many questions he could have asked and basics seemed the easiest to start with.
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"Though I wish to go to Empyrean," her ocean gazed swept to her leg. As now was growing sore she had to result into laying down slowly to keep it at an ease. She was supposed to not move around much, to avoid having it heal strangely — but it can be so damn boring sitting within the same den, and the same view, everyday. At the very least on her adventure around the isle, had found an acquaintance.

"She went in my steed," not willing to admit it was a forced situation. Vendrussel nearly got beaten up by @Kei herself from trying to venture beyond the isle, an unwise decision where most likely, would be swept into the waves. She still in the end, preferred if she went — but Kei had her heart within it, at the very least. Even if the dissatisfaction was there.

"All we need is bodies — even though I wish to not use that phrase. Guards against the beach, in case they come." Sometimes she thought of it, as all who were of the higher ranking and leaders of a pack. The desire to expand and grow, to gain bodies to the mass — but she didn't want to use that phrasing. It felt like it was a saying that they weren't individuals, but like a wall to use of protection. .. But it's exactly what they needed to defend the land.

"Though I wouldn't ask you of this, especially as you are not part of the ford."

Not yet even allies, a daunting moment really, as she sighed gently.

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She may not have considered them allies, but Altair did.

“I can help do that,” he said, ears tipped forward. Sure of him, confident there was most certainly something he could do. “I could go between here and Empyrean to deliver messages too.” Being a watchful eye, a messenger; they were smaller skills existing in his wheelhouse already.

Yet he sensed that reluctance lurking between them—had it been there all along? Now that he was aware of it, it may as well have been a bright neon beacon. It was only natural. She had a lot to deal with, he thought, and doubled down with a furrowed brow.

“Please, Vendrussel,” he licked his lips, “let me help.”
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"I would appreciate it, Altair." She said so at the depths of her heart — and in truth was not something used to. Often or not she preferred the reliance on herself, to take the burden that she so knew, and within so had not only taken a life, but broken her leg in retribution. Forced now, to stay within the isle and have others fight a battle where she could not help ; shoulders being touched through bonds to make.

Wolves wanted to help, and she would was embrace them so. Though in her form, she would like to touch his shoulder, all she could do was lay there with an honest smile.

"Welcome to Dragonford."

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To be honest, he had expected more of a protest—it made him wonder if the situation was a bit more dire than she let on, or maybe that was simply the perks of having friends in all places. His tail swung weakly at his hocks but it was far from an action of doubt; he was happy to help, even if he wasn't certain what all it would entail. There would hardly be a delay in working out that information on his end. He knew that she needed bodies—defenders, scouts, messengers, he could think of many roles an individual could fill—but what else?

"Do you want to go somewhere less... exposed? Or maybe more comfortable," he offered, though it begged the question of whether or not she was comfortable to begin with. Probably not, he wagered, adding: "Unless you want to fill me in here." Even if they ventured away from the roaring sea to somewhere not as brackish and loud, would it be wise? His back had been to the waters and the rocky, sandy path inland; he gave it a quick glance over his shoulder to find nothing of immediate note.
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"They wouldn't be so foolish to attack on the island, not with a few of us here." Vendrussel at the very least, was assured by so. No wolves would be so foolish to swiftly enter anothers land ; and especially not an isle. Where the land is against them, and the wolves of dragonford bred to the waters itself, claiming to it's home. They managed to come to the isle a few times, but she doubted they risk it again, especially when they had hurt Vendrussel.

She would explain most of what happened ; to the young of Northfall continually venturing into. To even the mother of them who threatened them upon their own grounds, and even the young Ynness, who ventured over and didn't realize that there was peace given by Ragnar, their leader — and yet he was fine with so, his pack was not. Greed of the young saying were theirs, and even.. To the battles upon the beach. Vendrussel at the time did not specify a young one was the one who laid dead, but mentioned how she ceased a life and brought the body to their grounds — and this is how she ended up.

A yawn, escaped from her. She was getting tired, as her body felt sore and used much energy to try and heal her wounds. A sigh, escaping, from overall everything.

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It was a lot to digest, but truth be told he didn't think there was anything that could be easy to digest out of all that had transpired. The more Vendrussel went on, the quieter he became, the fewer his questions; Altair was invested in the plight like he had been when his mother would tell him stories... only the outcome of this wouldn't necessarily have a fairy tale ending. It gave him plenty to think on and consider, and as her words drew to a close he was already beginning to formulate what he would take back with him to share with his parents. Though he didn't doubt Kei's ability to tell the same story, he knew adding his own voice to the mix would only add credibility. But for the moment, he would find himself staying upon their rocky shore if only for a spell. Rest was important and the adventure he had since his encounter with Kei had worn him down. So a night of rest, he thought, and then he would begin the arduous task of playing messenger and borrowed sentinel.
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