Word Count → 000 :: For Razzle-Dazzle. Sorry if my role play is a bit rusty, still not good at entrance posts lol.

Sparrow’s nimble fingers flew around the rope as she accurately pushed one end through a loop, the other spun around to choke its partner in the hole. If her distant expression was not enough of a saw to show that the girl was nervous, her shaky yet dexterous hands reflected what yellow eyes beheld.

She scented many coyotes here, not like the other territories she passed by. The first pack’s lands ranked of wolves, and she got so terrified by the scent, the smell reminding her somewhat of Marcel, that she sprinted the last few miles that put her a good distance from the land to escape from the air that was tainted with the reminder. It had caused her paranoia; she was at first afraid that the wolves scented her, that they were somehow friends of her father, and followed her. Sparrow managed to talk herself out of that idea, saying it was just wind-carried scent, but half of her irrational mind contradicted her reason. She had scented another, distant southwestern pack, but they were so mixed that she could not tell who or what was in it; maybe a mix of all sorts of species? She did not care much for them; she was looking for the lands that held coyotes.

The fawn stared at the skull that perched on the rod, her gaze still looking directly at nothing. Sparrow was not bothered by the skulls (Seeing that they were wolf skulls helped the initial shock, however). She was scared, what if Vesper was dead and another, similar female was the one she sought after? What if that female was angered that she found her, that she was violent and wanted to kill her? Marcel would kill her if she ever crossed his path again, or worse. Maybe the female could be the same. Her whole frame shook with fear as her mind processed so many different variables—that clan might behead her for standing so long at their borders, an enemy of the clan may see her and think her of their own, the skulls will come to life and try to devour her—the list went on.

Sparrow wanted to break down right there and cry, but her fingers worked furiously at the rope, untying the complex knot she spent five minutes on in the matter of three seconds, and managed to keep a poker face on despite the storm thundering instead her head. The girl quickly tied the ends of the rope together into a singular loop, and pushed her right paw through the hole to form a loose bracelet. Another moment pass, her mind naming out horrible outcomes, and Sparrow let out a loud yap that echoed over the lands, its message showing that she was looking for a certain person and that she wanted her to come to her.

Word Count → 000 :: OOC here.

Silence greeted her yap, and though she expected for no immediate answer back, she still became more nervous, her heart fluttering. The girl’s eyes darted from the skull-enclosed territory to the unclaimed land that spiraled beside it. She could run now if she wanted. She ran from Marcel, she could run from the unknown she was facing, but the indefinite clan could be where her sister has taken shelter. Hands reached fitfully to her hair, shakily twisting a long strand that hung from the right side of her face, as she stared out into lonely terrain, as if it would tell her the answer, the unclaimed blades of grass would tell her what’s right, and the wind would whisper in her ear what she should do. Sparrow was utterly confused by this new situation, but tentatively decided to stand her ground, ready to fly away when it became too much for her to handle.

Out of the woods came a coyote. She was bigger than Sparrow would have been, if she was in her normal form. Scars tore across her body, dancing across her frame that reminded the girl of streaks of lightning in shape. A few were familiar to her: the cut above her eye, the damaged ear, though there was more of it when she last saw the female. The fawn wanted to cry at the sight of her scarred pelt, its unique coloration that she loved marred by so many former wounds. But, only a small piece of her emotion escaped to reality, and her poker face changed into a small smile, eyes reflecting some of the pain she felt for her sister. "Vesper,” she murmured back, the name now given life instead of dead memories.

“I… found you. I thought you were dead,” Sparrow whispered, more or less to herself, feeling the desperate urge to rush to her sister, to touch her, to make sure she was not some phantom her irrational mind conjured to please itself. But, she simply stood there, still twisting her mane and letting it snake between her ever moving fingers.

Word Count → 000 :: Eeee I'm hope I'm doing alright. xD She is such a complex character to play~

The fawn felt exposed under Vesper’s stare, but the inner mechanism of her mind actually expected this to happen; neither of the sisters was born to be like this, and as far as Sparrow knew, Vesper did not retain the virus, so this was a new sight to behold. Though she did not find the gaze intruding and made no attempt to cover herself, she still felt meek, and the other arm found comfort by wrapping itself around her thin torso, its twin still occupied with her mane. Yellow eyes darted away momentarily as Vesper stated the obvious, with either embarrassment or shame, it was hard to tell. “I… Yes, I was.” Sparrow was not too keen on explaining how she became to be like this, or the fact that she was more or less stuck and couldn’t turn back.

“Well, we both had excuses,” she said distantly when she saw her sister look away. In honesty, she talked herself earlier in life that Vesper died, bled to death in front of their home, and was with their mother, wherever she was. She couldn’t remember clearly how badly her sister was injured, the memory ruined by the confusion and fear she felt at that moment, and the times her mind repressed it the times following it; her brain found a way to even reverse her nearly flawless memory for the sake of its sanity. From Vesper’s point of view, she could easily see how she thought that Marcel killed her, only that he made Sparrow wished that he did on a couple of occasions.

Again, when blue eyes sought for yellow, they did not have the moral to look back at them. Like Vesper, her demeanor became more reclusive, ears and tail lowered, shoulders hunched. She was quiet, as if her sister’s words were lost to the wind. Her hand finally released itself from her binding mane, seeking sheltered under her arm on the other side of her body, and found security within herself; it felt as if she held her being together by her own arms as she recalled her time with Marcel with frightful quality. “...A lot. He’s the one who did this to me, changed me. He…” She stopped herself before she went into detail how she becoming a Luperci came to be.

Her words were double edged. She herself was well aware of her fragile state of mind that was caused by their father, which made it all too much more conflicting inside of herself. “I got away from him though. I heard rumors of a coywoman. One with a missing ear. Strange coloration. They spoke how brash you were, how independent, how many fights you would go into.” At this, her lips curled into a gentle smile. “I managed to trace you down to here… Inferni, is it? I just wanted to see if they were true. And to say hello.” Now that she explained why she was here, she felt empty, like she did on the first night away from Marcel. She didn't know what to do, where to go, what to say. It was hard to be your own person when you never had that choice in the beginning.

Word Count → 000 :: [/grabs a hankie] ; m ;

Eyes lost in past memories resurfaced for a moment to look more clearly upon her sister. “Oh,” she merely breathed. But then again, it was to be expected; it would have been nearly impossible for Vesper to be riddled in scars and not to sit there and take it like Sparrow did, and would have shed some blood herself. It was easy, simple really, how this damned virus spread. But, she was viewing everything in past terms, and was still overcoming that Vesper was now an adult, no longer the child that saved her more than once while her naïve mind believed everything was alright, things were in their place and nothing would go wrong as long as she had her mother’s company. Maybe that’s how she was taken away so easily; once the beast killed Winter, she had nothing, and the only one that comforted then her was the one who caused her misfortune.

Sparrow, once gaining enough courage to look in Vesper’s direction, saw the horror upon her face clearly. She wanted to blame herself for all of this, that her mother was killed because of her, she could have stopped it, Marcel would have ran, they would have stayed together; Vesper could have taught her how to hunt, they would become close, maybe staying together until the two came to an agreement to leave their ways peacefully or staying together until Fate broke them apart. Vesper managed to make Marcel go away at that age, but she herself was too weak, too easily controlled to do that same. Regret racked her body like a torrent of cold water, and could not help but wince at all the possibilities that she let slip between her fingers. It was her fault, her fault, always her fault. Marcel repeatedly told her every single problem was because of her, and she utterly believed it, then and even now. “I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper, despite the fact she wanted to cry it out, wanting her voice to at least show how passionately sorry she was for all of this. But she made it this far, and refused to let herself break down. Not in front of Vesper.

Her attention grabbed at the change of subject like a starving dog would at a bone. She smiled even further at the obvious pride that leaked into this dire meeting; she did not quite understand it, but she was happy that her sister found something to be happy about. But, the smiled decreased, and became a small grimace at the mention of wolves. She wondered off-handedly if they were like Marcel, but by the tone of voice that her sister held, they were a different breed of evil than father was, so was not as concern. But, dread crept up her back.

Yellow eyes became like two, damp suns, and though the ability to emotionally cry lacked in their species, rain would have begun to leak from their beholders. Sparrow inched even closer to the borders, the skulls disappearing from existence, and the only thing that kept her from crossing the line was the sudden wave of strong, unfamiliar scents of other coyotes. “I would like to join you, Vesper… I admit, I am no use now. But, I can learn. I will learn, if it means that I won’t hurt you because of me as well.”