There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story.

Valeria Redpaw Valour needs first strength, and then a weapon.
The firelight crackled and popped, brilliant sparks split off from the smoldering logs and floated up into oblivion with wisps of gray woodsmoke, telegraphing the woman's position next to the river in picturesque Foxheel Point. The evening was comfortably warm, with just a touch of a cool breeze in the air every now and then. The river trickled and babbled nearby, and the night was so serene that even the nocturnal animals of the brush felt comfortable enough to pad nearby the predator. Valeria sat on a linen sheet she had brought over, bread and cheese set out on it at her side and a pitcher of refreshing mint water next to it. Even with the nearby fire the sky was so clear that one could see each winking star overhead. Sighing contentedly, Valeria leaned back onto her elbows to peer up at the cloudless sky. Behind her stretched the wooded area of Foxheel, her own hovel not far off in the distance. Some weeks ago, she and Theo had discovered a tree with a hollowed out burrow and made it their home. It was cozy, and did not serve as a storage place or even a place to have a family, but for now it was a good home for the newlyweds and Valeria had a workshop to store any other possessions. The burrow was a nice, feral home for a feral woman. As her gemstone eyes peered up into the inky sky she caught sight of Lupo Iwei, a cluster of stars which was said to outline the profile of a great demigod spirit of her people. She cocked her head to better see the Iwei's ear points, and then traced the line of the blade that ran his throat. She missed the legends of her people, and wished she had a reason to tell them to the people here. She supposed when pup season came about she may have the opportunity to spread her tales, if the parents let her... Why did she still feel like she would be rejected? The Vale had been her home for two months now and everyone was so accepting. She nodded, sitting up straight again and pouring herself a bowl of water. She brought the bowl to her lips and began to lap up the herb-infused drink. It was a splendid summer night.
Word Count: [300+]	Form: Optime	Date: DD/MM/YY	Time: 00 AM/PM

Table by Kitty. Artwork by Jasmae

Optime | Foxheel Point | Night | NPCs: Glade, Brimstone, and Jack (+505)

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Crickets and frogs echoed their songs out into the night atmosphere, creating a low hum of white noise to be carried out across the land. The heat of the day had died off, but the air was still warm. Most had likely turned in for the day, had wandered back to their homes to bed down with the lack of a source of light to continue further activities. Not Ragna though. With the weather being so nice for a summer night, the scout had decided to go on a patrol. In all honesty, it wasn’t necessary, however, Ragna was never one to remain idle for very long.

She had originally only intended to bring her stallion, Brimstone along, however, Glade had pleaded to let him come along, and, it had almost seemed cruel to leave Jack out of the then-evening outing. The group had gone south out of Winterwynd, and had slowly wound their way around the arching border to the east, moving steadily northward until they’d reached the river. Along this, they’d followed, intending to eventually cross the Northe Bridge when they came across it to finish their patrol.

The smell of a campfire drew their attention away from their intended duties though, and the glow of it through the forest made them curious as to who would be out at Foxheel Point at such a late hour. Most of the Mistwalkers had a place in town, making use of the long-abandoned human ruins or liking the buffer of land between Winterwynd and the packs’ distant borders. Ragna steered their little party towards the source of the fire, weaving through the trees and finding natural paths that the draft-bred gelding, Jack, could follow along easily enough.

Whoever was there would have heard them coming, after all, Jack had not been trained to be a stealthy creature, not like Brimstone. Twigs cracked and leaves crumpled softly beneath his careless footsteps and weight. On this side of the river, Ragna felt a little less concerned about finding a trespasser, and, if she did, god help them if they were stupid enough to not need the subtle, advanced warning of her approach.

With how he leaned so far out from his spot across her shoulders, Ragna could feel Glade’s curiosity growing as they came within view of the fire tender. It was one of the newer Mistalkers, one of the ones recently sorted into the Elkenfrey house. The woman had joined the Vale with her mate, if the scout recalled correctly.

“Redpaw, was it?” Ragna asked, announcing her group’s arrival as she drew the horses to a halt at the edge of the small clearing. Her glacier gaze roved over the little picnic of sorts that the tawny female had had spread out near the fire. “What’s the occasion?” She jerked her head towards the bread and cheese next to Valeria.

From her shoulders, Glade tried to stand a little straighter and chattered, “Lonely out here! Why alone?”

Valeria Redpaw Valour needs first strength, and then a weapon.
The clopping of hooves clapped above the whisper and spark of the fire, and the fae's blond-tipped ears perked in response. She had just resigned herself to a lonesome evening, expecting no one to arrive, when the scout and her posse came upon her. At first she peered quizzically, eyes curious jewels, and then she climbed to her feet as the guard came closer. Regarding her colleague with respect, she gave a funny motion that was something between a bow and a curtsey before taking her seat again by the fire. The grayscale woman regarded her with deference, and Valeria was pleased that the woman knew her name. The elfen female had made it a point to try to at least learn most of her pack mates' names, if not to fashion some sort of relationship with them. Ragna was one she had not yet had the pleasure to bond with yet... but it appeared that was about to change. Nodding when the scout confirmed her name, she spouted back, And you're Ragna. It wasn't worded as a question, but it sure would be if the woman told her she was wrong. Ragna made a gesture and her attention shifted to the food, and when it returned to her acquaintance there was a welcoming smile on her maw. No special occasion, really, she explained. It's just been a long time since I could spend some time with nature... feel the soothing warmth of a fire, commune with the earth, wink at the stars and be winked at by them. A beautiful night like this... it just reminds me of sitting around the campfire listening to the legends told by my tribe's elders. She realized that she must sound like a fanciful girl and laughed, shaking her head softly. Her hair, which was usually pinned back or braided, was loose and shook about her face and shoulders with the gesture. Would you like to join me? came the offer with a wave. Her eyes caught the movement on Ragna's shoulder – Valeria was aware of her companion but did not realize he was here until he perked up and chattered. She didn't quite catch what he said though, and either it was a dialect difference or he wasn't speaking the language of the predators. Still, to be polite she regarded him and said, Come again? She broke the heel off of the bread and proffered a piece, grinning at the marten, Would you like some? Maybe that was what he was saying.
Word Count: [400+]	Form: Optime	Date: DD/MM/YY	Time: 00 AM/PM

Table by Kitty. Artwork by Jasmae