ooc: Totally had to look up this culture just to get the reference and OMG drool-worthy!
The morning light crept in to chase away the tendrils of darkness. With warm rays the light peeked through and gently touched the nose of the slumber wolf. She recoiled from the light with eyes drawing tighter closed in vain to stave off the illuminating hues, but the tension lessened, and like a child giving into the tender caress of its mother, she turned her muzzle into its warmth and sighed softly with her awakening. Inhaling the breath of the morning with conscious mind away, she scented first her mate and then the collected perfume their mingled scents created. She looked to him with tired eyes though with a twinkle of light that made them brighten. And then a smile touched her lips as he too began to stir, feeling the movements of his mate and as if endowed with the subconscious urge to aid her, turned his nose toward a weathered golden cheek with blind eyes searching through the false darkness for her touch and what she might need. Endearingly, she touched his muzzle, a silent word that all was well and it was only the morning that stirred her from rest. A soft sigh, one of relief, sounded quietly on behalf of the grey male and with heavy lids parting he pushed from the ground to rise, using his shoulder to guide the pregnant female to stand and greet the light as well.
Quiet and peaceful were the events of the morning as if the circumstances of the days before had not befallen them and truly it was only they that resided on the mountain. The day could wait for their emergence into the light. The prey could have their few precious moments of life before it was taken by hungry jaws. The moments of peace were cherished between the two, until it was irrefutably broken by a thrilling sound that caused both ridges to stand on end. The expression on the male’s face was little more than a look of disdain for the interruption to the pair’s morning… but when he looked to his mate, that calm resolve, that flicker of emotion came to brilliant light upon seeing the alarm wrought across the golden face.
It could not be. It simply could not be. Surely without the voice being heard for so long, her ears could have mistaken a similar tone for one more familiar. It was a trick her mind was playing, a cruel one, but a trick none the less. It could not be… so long had she heard that voice, the way it rose and curled with the pronunciation of a name that was not a name, but as sound just as his would be…just as all the Nomad names would be. But the way her heart hammered, how quickly it beat against its caged and stirred her anguish, she could not believe this was a trick. Had her mate not said he had come to these lands with her brother? Were they not separated ‘on’ these lands? Oh, what a fool she was to believe she wouldn’t be found. How silly she was to forget that her blood still stalked the lands…
A calming touch graced her cheek stirring the woman from her panicked thoughts to her present status; fur bristled and breath heavy. Eyes wide and limbs shaking. Oh, she was scared…she was terrified for what this call would entail. And worse, she fear the state she would see her mirror reflection. Would it smile back at her? Would it grimace? Would it bare its fangs and leap through the threshold?
Wordlessly, she stepped from darkness into light accompanied by the epitome of the realm between. With sure steps and the fire of curiosity, they walked down the face of the great mountain and onto land that led toward the shores of the Aldorto’K. Patiently, neither hurried nor delayed they marched in awkward unison, the weight of the female’s cargo causing heavier steps than she would have cared for and the occasional butt of the Lambda’s shoulder against her own as if to keep her standing should her steps elicit a stumble. It was not long before this walk found a more favorable rhythm, one accommodating the cheery symphony of nature waking though they together neared what could potentially turn such a happy mood to dread in an instant. But the Nomad woman would smile, for she was one that would smile even in the face of her own death.
‘X’yro’. No, she did not use the civil tongue to speak his name, but instead the sound that his name was to mean; the sound he made bequeathed by the Ancestors that would forever become a part of him. She paused before her reflection, four legs planted firmly to the soft grasses still wet with the morning dew. “I am glad you did not stay lost within these lands, brother.” She greeted neither hostilely nor with favor, but as a fact of her true feelings. “Though… I must say…” swiftly her eyes wandered his clad form. “I am disappointed that you wear the hide of another to guard your own. Do you not believe the armor of the Exultare will be enough in this strange place?”