[P] With teeth of gelignite
Quote:It's afternoon in the Canaan Bog, and there is a thunderstorm.

Your character is hit suddenly by the realization of how very alone they are.

Dated around 10th July.

Please let me know if you want anything changed! ♥

The meeting of steel greys and blue overhead hinted at a storm. Hulda glanced at the flat land as she searched for shelter. The girl walked alongside her chestnut companion and laid a hand against Eir’s sweating flank. Archimedes perched on her shoulders, his weight shifting in his restlessness. Her fur stood on edge as the first rumble sounded far above, as a call to war.  Her heart quickened as desperation set in.

The destination would be worth it, Hulda reminded herself. Rozenn’s stories had grabbed her attention, and her mind swam with visions of bright colours and bleached bones decorating their borders. The girl was beginning to realise that the bog surrounding their pack lands was a good enough deterrent to any canine who wished to do them harm. Hulda’s journey thus far had mostly consisted of avoiding deep pools or falling prey to the uneven earth beneath her feet.

She grimaced as she wrenched a leg free of the hungry mud. Eir was not faring much better as she stumbled, her nostrils wild and blowing air. “I’m sorry love. What a sorry pair we must look.” Both rider and steed were caked in clay that she knew would be a pain to brush out later.

The first drops of rain forced Hulda to focus on her present dilemma. She grasped hold of her mule’s reins and led her towards the cluster of trees. Other gods had joined the heavenly battle as answering peals came.  Beneath the safety of the boughs it was chaos; Eir lifted her head and squealed, pulling Hulda up with her as she clung onto the reins. Archimedes left painful scores along the soft flesh of her shoulder as he disappeared into the branches.
Pallid fingers tightened around reigns, pulling her stallion closer to the borders, and away from the sticky clay like mud. Ares was buckskin in coloration, and the mud and clay muck seemed to create a graying coloration on his forelegs. Peony had decided to take a break from the girls’ leaving Hosea with the two of them, venturing off towards the Canaan Bog. Certain areas in the world she now lived in, were very seldom traveled to by the heiress.

A thunder storm echoed above head, the clouds quickly becoming a shade of gray that made those Chantelle orbs flicker upwards droplets of rain had yet to fall, and the task at hand (collecting a few objects that her dear friend Morrigan might find useful) was vastly becoming a thing of the past. Although the reindeer moss, and peat moss would surely be a surprise for her medical friend, the identity of them, and where she might find them she hadn’t a clue. Although, how hard could it be to find moss?

A scent, and a small faint whisper of a feminine voice in the wind, trickled to her large radar ears, flickering upon her skull, she immediately went into defense mode. Who would come through the Bogs towards the Gang? Not only was it dangerous, it was curious. Carefully, the Braithwaite female stepped around the parts of the Bog that seemed most dangerous, and stepped further away from the border.

Chantelle orbs flickered onto a site that had the Braithwaite heiress stopping in her tracks. A larger breed of Lupreci caked in mud, and the horse she had with her, also caked in mud. Pulling at her heartstrings the woman immediately advanced, even in the gentle rain, standing before the trees and giving a soft gentle wave, her small stature complimented with her demanding aura. “Hello, are you alright?” Careful to keep a distance just in case, and to also put her body in front of the borders, in case this was an intruder.

Couldn’t be too careful, anymore.
The wind joined the fray of the storm as it whipped the unruly hair of both rider and mule. It beckoned Hulda to join its ecstatic dance, and for a moment it felt as though nothing else existed. Only she and the spirits. Until a woman’s voice tickled her tall ears and brought with it a sweet, unfamiliar scent. Her nose twitched at a particularly fascinating smell - a young pup, pack, and male. Children, a mate, and a home; it made her heart yearn for home and curse her foolish notion for leaving everyone she held dear behind.

It started to rain, as though to gently carry the youth’s troubles away. The woman approached from atop a horse, that looked well cared for. The female was dressed finely and groomed. Hulda shrank back behind Eir as her hands rose to tidy her bird’s nest of a mane. Her father had stressed to her the importance of appearance, and had combed her fur and procured nice things for her to wear. She dreaded to think of what he would think of her now. Fortunately, the female showed no sign of disgust, as she waved and asked after the wolfdog.

“Y-yes.” Hulda blinked, horrified at the tone of uncertainty in her voice. She cleared her throat and stepped out from behind her mule’s mass, with one hand laid reassuringly against Eir’s neck. “I feel better for seeing you actually! I chose an awful time to come here it seems.” The wolfdog huffed and noticed she could smell a wealth of canines that suggested a pack. “Am I trespassing? I didn’t mean to - it's just that my sister spoke about your pack and I’ve so badly wanted to experience it for myself. Are you from the dry grass people, miss?”
(+000) | Del Cenerans are now known as the grass people xD Her sister told her the gang's name ages ago but she's forgotten  
There was a darkening cloud amongst the horizon, adding affect to the approach of Peony. Halting Ares, she dismounted as watched curiously, and closely, as the other female quickly retreated to behind her horse. Peony’s left brow rose in a quirk, studying the movements, wondering what on earth she was doing. And then, oh, she was straightening her hair. A small smile would have braced her face, if not for the permanent frown she wore, in hopes of eventually pushing herself to become the idol face of Del Cenere. But the frown upon her face wasn’t meant for this strange female, it was simply because she was worried, and yet, somehow, it was always taken wrongly by others.

It takes more effort to frown, Peony, than it does to smile. Mama’s voice rang out into her head, and her frown set in stone upon those pretty features, perhaps it was due to the rain. Ears twitched and her hands laid upon Ares’ neck, noticing the way the woman spoke, the dialect in her tone different and the way she moved, quite fluidly among the boggy earth. Peony’s ears perked upwards and that pointy snout turned upwards as if sniffling the air to get better scents. Yet, the breeze that blew by her, did not dare to move a hair on her head, instead, her clothes whipped around her.

Listening, now, to the female speak, gave Peony a sense of relief, and that frown only slightly relaxed into more of a scowl than anything. Those kind eyes were glancing at her more fluidly, however, and her hands finally fell to her sides. Timidly at first, then more boastful, Peony waited until she was done speaking before she even dared to respond. Grass people? Peony’s eyebrow quirked and her frowning mouth, turned upwards a bit.

I do not know what dry grass people you speak of? We are the Del Cenere Gang, no sweetie, ya aren’t trespassing, not yet anyways.” Stated matter-of-factly before her hand went to straighten her blouse, and she glanced into the horizon. “We shouldn’t be out here too much longer, I can offer you a room for a few days if you would like?” A thought, a pause, then a hum as the coyote woman faltered in her footsteps. “Long as you don’t make no trouble, the Gang welcomes everyone with open arms.” Peony would wait for the youth to approach before she finished her speech, walking alongside her. “I’m Peony Braithwaite, La Oreja of the Gang.

Expectantly she would gaze at her with Chantelle orbs that demanded everyone’s attentions.
Hulda huffed and scratched an ear when the golden woman didn’t know what she was talking about. “Huh, that’s odd. My sister said your group was called something like dry grass? Maybe I'm wrong though.”  The Del Cenere Gang didn’t feature in her father’s stories, which lead her to assume they were new. There is time for carelessness. The harsh tone of her Móðir interrupted her thoughts momentarily. “My sister is called Rozenn. She’s not like me though, she’s a coyote. I could tell you her story if you’re interested?”

Rain poured down through the gaps between the boughs, creating dark streaks along Eir’s back. It merely flattened her own fur, unable to soak into the thick layers of her coat. The mule twitched her long ears back and forth and nudged at Hulda with her nose in a clear statement that she wanted to move. She caught the stranger glancing into the distance as she made an offer. “I’d like that, it would be wonderful!” she replied with a bright smile.  A room for a few days, she repeated in her head. Shelter and a chance to appreciate some home comforts; her tail wagged at the thought of being out of the elements. “Thank you, that is very kind of you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Hulda remarked and tilted her head to one side. Such rudeness was thankfully not tolerated by the Gang, so they had to be good folk. “That’s a very pretty name. It’s a flower, isn’t it? My name is Hulda Moreau. Pleased to meet you.” The girl’s shoulders relaxed now that she was on even footing with the fair woman. “Come along Archimedes.” A sodden brown shape appeared from the trees, its flight sluggish and erratic as it fought against the storm. He huddled for warmth somewhere in his mistresses’ soaked hair. Eir gladly followed Hulda’s lead as she walked alongside Peony. “What does a La Oreja do?” Here she stumbled over the unfamiliar word, before questioning. “And what is your Gang like?”
(+300) | OOC. 
Quote:Im sorry about the lateness in this!!! D;

Hearing of the others sister and her story, made Peony only narrow her gaze a tad, scrutinizing the other. The rain pelted her, and the darkness that came to her colored coat was becoming interesting to watch. Peony, herself, became slightly uncomfortable with the wetness, making her clothes stick to her fur like another wet blanket.

Sure I would love to hear of Rozenn.

The reply was gentle, however there was confusion in her mind, hearing that her sister was a coyote and she was not. How strange? Was Hulda adopted? The name fit her though, noticing the broadness in her approach, and how naive and young she felt and was. Peony was more content than she had been moments ago, and when the other clicked her horse onwards, their descent into the Gang was relieving a bit.

La Oreja…” a pause as she assessed the surroundings before speaking again. “I handle relationship and trades for the Gang and outsiders, as well as those within our lands.” Humming she turned a finger to push back a stray strand of hair, even in the rain, her demure behavior shone through. “Our Rey he is a kind and fair man, it has been wonderful to become so high ranking within the last years in these foreign lands. My home now, and home t many wayward souls.” The smile that graced her features was that of pride and joy.
Hulda beamed with pleasure at Peony’s interest in her family. “My mother tells me she found Rozenn abandoned as a pup so she raised her as if she was her own. Later she met my dad and they both looked after her until she was old enough to look after herself.” A note of pride swelled in the tone of her voice at the mention of her father. “I think my father is incredible for loving a child that wasn’t his. Roz might be our half-sister but we’re devoted to each other like blood siblings are.”

“She left home and joined your pack after that.” Hulda’s eyes appeared distant as she looked away from Peony. “I haven’t heard much from her for a while actually. I hope she is okay.”

“When Rozenn was young, she couldn’t speak any language other than Spanish. My mother didn’t find out what happened to Roz’s parents. What happened is sad, but at least we are her family now.”

She felt the Peony’s gaze linger on her for a heartbeat. I wonder what she sees, Hulda mused. She shook out her coat, the blondes, and creams of her undercoat suddenly visible. Archimedes shuffled and uttered a series of clicks with his beak to express his displeasure. She lifted a hand to smooth down her owl’s soggy head and chest in an attempt to soothe him. “Soon, my sweet.”

Hulda nodded as the Ashen spoke about her duties. “Your work sounds important.” Maintaining good relations with your own pack and outsiders alike seemed like a difficult task. Like being a mother of unruly pups. She admired Peony for the work she did, but it wasn’t a role the girl wanted for her own. A smile crept across her muzzle at the pride she heard in Peony’s voice as she spoke about her leader and newfound home. Questions buzzed in her head as a natural silence stretched between the two females.

“A home to wayward souls, you say? I’d like to hear about them.”
(+300) | No worries! ♥

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