Thank you! <33 Oh, and Cwmfen is in lupus form, if that’s cool?
500+
The black fae moved her paws fluidly and rhythmically, and, although a wolf was a creature of the earth, it was as if this particular soul belonged in the water. Indeed, the calm waters of her soul sang softly with the pool as she moved through it, her fur clinging to the liquid. The black wolf found purchase upon a deep rock near the edge, and she stood upon it, relaxing and allowing the heat and the tension from her travel-wearied body to dissipate into the gentle caresses of Nemain’s domain. A soft sigh escaped her jaws, the jaws that quietly hungered for the violence of War. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander to a place that existed between the world of Wakefulness and the world of Dreaming—Limbo. Limbo was a dark place, a place with nothingness that called to her. There she could feel the tension between the worlds, the confusion that could easily overcome one if one were not careful in the traveling of this no-man’s land. The Warrior was careful. She tread with careful steps and traveled silently, allowing the thoughts that moved through her tranquil mind to guide her in this place.
The pied Raven called.
His voice was soft, and he brought her back to the pool where the water had already begun to loosen the knots of her body. A flash of white could be seen through the foliage and for a moment, the Warrior wondered if it were Cercelee that had returned. But it was not. She knew it immediately. The sound of the footfall did not match the rhythms of the Rosea that had once ruled Dahlia de Mai. Cwmfen wondered where the ice queen could be, for her loyalty was still with that soul.
No. The white female that stood before the pool had eyes mismatched of blue and violet. She was younger, perhaps, than Cercelee. An imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of the woaded wolf’s lips. "Yes," the alto melody sang, the silver tones dancing lightly upon the water’s surface. "You may join me." It was not her pool, after all, and the Warrior did not mind her presence. This white female was the first wolf she had encountered since her return to the flower pack, and such an encounter seemed somehow significant. The once-Adonis would need to meet the wolves of her home as well. This was simply an opportunity to do so.
The familiar scent of blood was drawn to her nose. It was old, yet a hint of freshness could be found. Her soul seemed to leap up at the scent that so characterized her purpose in life. Curiosity seemed to flicker faintly in the tranquil and impassive gaze, but she did not inquire as to the origin of the wounds. Instead, the Warrior said, "Has Dahlia been your home for long?" Perhaps the Warrior would be able to learn at least a little of the happenings since her departure. She wondered where Cercelee was, where Haku was, and how Conor had claimed the leadership of the pack. So many wolves that she had once known were now gone, just as she had been. She wondered if they, like she, would return.