[J] My reflection, dirty mirror

The decision to go the Vale was simpler than she originally thought, since the other packs made themselves so clearly inhospitable, save for the knights of Casa. But the red eyed girl couldn't see it, frankly she couldn't see herself many places, but perhaps this newly formed pack would be a haven from the lonely life of a traveller--one she often thought suited her. That morning she packed up camp and came trotting slowly in from the west, her birch wood bow at her back. The clouds tearing lightly across the cool gray sky like sheep out to graze. Rialu looked to the herd and thought of Virue, who refused to come along, who refused to move on from his place in life. A common sheep farmer on the fringe of Amherst.

Rialu made a deep sigh that emptied her lungs and howled at the cloudy flock to call a member of the Vale, half-expecting the clouds to scatter and bray, but they did no such thing. The only reaction was the sky's--when her voice came ringing back perverted and awry her own but not. The wind called too, the lukewarm breezes nudging her slightly off-stance, and when she heard the early morning tunes from a dove high in its perch asking like an owl, she realized it was springtime and almost cracked some kind of facial anomaly akin to a smile. But not quite.
The leaves fall like comets missed, and you are this, all straight with twist.

Another call, another unexpected trip to Posey's to unload the boys onto her. As per usual, she seemed more than happy to spend time with them, and both boys seemed equally as glad. The Starkhelm had long since given up apologising, though she still warned the pair sternly against causing havoc. She doubted that they took her words to heart as seriously as they did when she herself was watching them, but the warning remained consistent.

Spring hadn't yet made itself particularly known in this part of the world and while most would lament such a thing, Saga savoured it. The winter months, the cold ones that she had grown up knowing, were by far her favourite. Sure summer was entertaining, she much valued the sun's beaming rays after a long swim in the Emberfen Lakes, but the crisp whiteness of the deep winter brought a deep seating feeling of joy to the stoic Starkhelm.

It didn't take her long to reach the borders. It never did. Long legs carried her with speed and ease to her destination and no sooner had she spotted the figure, a woman, upon the borders, than the words left her mouth. 'This is Mistfell Vale, state your business.' As she spoke, she drew in closer until she was only a few metres away, her tail flagging.
A speckled harlot appeared and made herself known with a voice, Rialu suspected, that would probably taste of dried leaves if eaten. But Rialu wouldn't say that to her face unless she got on her nerves. “Salut stranger,” she hailed merrily, as merrily as her half-ass smile would allow. “I am Rialu Avarice, and I am friendly.” She touched a relatively white piece of cotton material tied to her forearm. It was a symbol of peace she had adopted during life on the move alone.

“My business is with you, actually, Mistwalker lady. I'm one of many Infernians scattered across this forsaken piece of sod. A loner looking for a home.” Rialu added off-handed, a tad tired of her own story. “Sparing you with more lame details, I'd like to speak to someone who is in charge?” She gave the starry woman a solid glance and a nod, and some bird jabbered off a sudden cry that made her ginger ears snap to attention. Eyes off to the races, to the winter-stripped branches in search of colour, life, sound. Just one pull back, fingers on the feathers, she could hit it if she knew where it was. The Avarice sighed, parting a few frizzy orange hairs with a finger between her ears. Bird meat wasn't worth all the trouble, especially around this time of year, yet she still felt like firing sharpened death into its breast at breakneck velocity. She needed a new hobby.
The leaves fall like comets missed, and you are this, all straight with twist.
Friendly. Saga barely stopped herself from huffing in amusement.

The assumption that the Starkhelm was just some common pack member cause lime eyes to narrow sharply, her posture stiffening from mild to blatant dominance. She was significantly smaller than the older loner, who herself didn't appear to be a particularly large hybrid. She was built thicker too, though still possessing a leanness that betrayed her heritage, coyoteish, perhaps doggish too. Saga assumed that her domestic heritage lay in more wolfish breeds, for she saw little hint of the stranger breeds in her, aside from the bright russet coat. In the D'Angelo herself, her own domestic heritage was evident. Litheness and long legs pointed to sighthound blood as blatantly as her thick coat pointed to her overwhelming wolfish heritage.

'That would be me.' Saga said coldly, the bright green of her eyes staring down the woman's bloody orbs confidently. Already, she felt the urge to turn stranger away, but she felt that Felix would find such a move rash for something as inoffensive as impoliteness. 'Inferni is long gone. What took you so long?'

“Oh,” Rialu sounded, a bit taken. “Yeah you look the part. Sort of. En tout cas, en tout cas.Confident, but that was not all; there were other fragmented traits lurking in Saga’s closet rather boring to think too deeply about. Rialu hated closed book types, not out of spite, but mostly because they reminded the hunter of herself. Flipping through pages of bullshit just to find one not stained with someone’s melodramatic nonsense was not on her grand scheme list of things to get done. She gave her head a shake, and made a short whistling through pinched nostrils, snapping her red lenses shut settling them on the so-called leader. She gave a small chuckle in the form of, “Ha,” one that served the opposite of its purpose. Rialu took pride in hanging the clown before the punchline, and burning the book before it’s read, at least under her watch.

“Ehh? What took me so long?!” She lit a cigarette, from a rough leather pouch, pulled on it with her lips to make the thing hiss as the wood match glowed like a star and died just as quiet. She motioned to the trees, the sky, sprinkled ash into the air from the end of her little white dragon. “I got bored ah?” Then the Quebecer grinned cockily, with a smile at the other woman. “Don’t worry, you let this French girl in, I protect you from the scary woods, d’accord? A cream hand tapped her collarbone. The look in Rialu’s eyes may have told the Mistwalker this was all in good fun, but her straight face showed no stir of emotion. Then she scratched at the pink rakes in the thicker fur at her throat and any shred of ‘good fun’ was smothered out with what looked like a mercenary's focus.

“Mmmmh,” she muttered, one arm wrapped around her opposite side shoulder as she pulled in more smoke and puffed it out, train of thought leaving behind full heads of steam trails outside the station. “Yes, Inferni is gone,” she frowned a bit at this, thumbed her satchel, and the breeze sneezed, rustling a rainbow of feathers that poked out from Rialu’s deerskin quiver. “But I am here alive, am I not? That means I know shit that the corpses don’t know, and this band on my arm means I’ve gone and done it without putting too many under the dirt.” So that was kind of her deal then wasn’t it. She was the bowyer who made corpses, and the one who saved corpses too, or at least she tried her damndest to do one or the other. It was awkward to think about, often self aware heroes became airheads and crud-for-brains most typically, but she was neither one or the other, she just liked her space, her time, and her craft. That and she hated heroes, always too good-natured, too altruistic to be any good or true at all. Real was everything else, naturally and fashionably on time to mess your day right up.
The leaves fall like comets missed, and you are this, all straight with twist.
short sorry <3

Narrowed eyes were entirely ingrained into many people's vision of Saga and it was for good reason. The stranger seemed taken aback by the revelation and had begun muttering to herself in some strange tongue, though Saga thought it sounded vaguely familiar. She didn't like this newcomer, but there was nothing she could find to justify turning her away just yet. But, of course, the questioning hadn't yet started. Her jesting changed the tone of the conversation, but there was little in either woman's faces that mirrored it. This new flippant attitude annoyed Saga, but she held her tongue. While she could greet and accept loners into the fold, she wasn't in charge ultimately.

'I hope you won't get bored here.' she warned casually, but she moved on quickly, 'What do you have that corpses don't, in terms of skill, then?' A white stained eyebrow was raised in curiosity and her tail flicked behind her, betraying the sense of unrest she felt.
ooc - <3


Saga seemed to be getting annoyed, which kind of comforted Rialu knowing she caused it. "Oh what can I do? I can hunt, shoot the right side ear off a rabbit. Unless you want the left one. Turn game into corpses," she explained, a bit cooler more serious as it were, then she casually grew more interested with the other woman's right ear. "That one definitely needs removing it's on your bad side."

She smirked, looked off to the side, maybe she herself was pushing away a bad side, at least she wondered as much. "Sorry. Have not had much good sleep, not since yesterday I suppose." Then she plucked a leather-wrapped morsel from her satchel, and held it out to Saga wrist to sky, before she turned her hand over. "Come, vit vit I don't bite, I just punch eyes." The dead eyed called, looking straight at the speckled pelt that quavered in afternoon breeze paled by lack of sun. Saga's summery eyes were harsher however, and when she called she tried to lock into them to make sure they were on the same page, like that strange sheep boy had shown her.

"So. You think I can stay, mon amis?" She spoke even now, quietly awaiting a response.
The leaves fall like comets missed, and you are this, all straight with twist.

Welcome to Mistfell Vale!

Congratulations on joining Mistfell Vale - the coolest pack in 'Souls! Wink This pack is perfect for a soul looking for a relaxed, free, and fun place to stay - so welcome to the family! Some things you might want to check out in this unique pack are:

If you don't know where to start posting, you can check out the thread requests forum or the open threads! You can also create or join an all welcome thread for some IC fun. Why not also start plotting with other members and begin a fun plot or activity that people can enjoy and experiment with?

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