Forward-dated to the 21st. Sky makes the decision to leave Cercatori D'Arte.
When Skye had finished updated poor Sky on the news regarding the pack's changes, the poor wolfdog had been too overwhelmed to go back to her house. She'd been afraid of what she'd find there, terrified of spending her nights alone, suffocated by the lingering scent of her departed mate. Instead, she'd spent the night at Skye's place, helping her friend with her newly born children and spending some quality time with Casper. The whole time she'd been normal, smiling and acting as if nothing were wrong. The day had come and gone, though, and with some good food in her, the wolfdog had left again.
She planned on returning, but right now she needed to clear her head, and the place of her nightmares was not a good way to start. She'd grabbed up a few things from her house, never daring to go into the bedroom in fear of breaking down. Dressed in some clean clothes and carrying a heavier-than-usual satchel bag, Sky had left the house and territory behind in favor of spending some alone time in the Dampwoods forest up North.
That place had been a safe haven for her during her travels. She'd passed through it dozens of times in the first few nights. Each time had been calming, with water where and when she needed it, plenty of rabbits to hunt and no territories nearby to worry about. It was a loner's paradise. The only place better would have been Drifter Bay, but in the last few days, she'd heard tell of scent markers being noticed there. No longer was it safe for her, so the forest would have to do.
Her trip there had taken her a good two days on foot. It was a long walk, but worth every minute spent away from the safety of her home. By the time she'd made it there, it was close to noon, sunny and warm despite the season. She found herself a safe spot near a stream to settle down, sitting herself down on a rock beside the water as it flowed past.
After some time spent in silence, thinking things over, trying to clear her head... a voice. Momma, don't be so sad. She'd heard these voices before. They came to her whenever she felt broken. She knew the truth, that she wasn't haunted or followed by her departed sons, but the voices still came... She truely was going insane.
Insanity doesn't sound so bad right now, actually. That dark voice in the back of her mind bitterly remarked, reminding her of just how twisted she'd become. He'll come back... right?They never come back. They're all selfish. Why would he care?He wanted to marry me. He loved me. Sky quietly murmured to herself, tucking her legs into her chest.
Love's not real, you idiot. Who's ever loved you? Mother? Father? Dusk? None of them ever cared. They're gone forever, just like Shawchert. What's the point of going back to that place if there's nothing left? That dark voice in her head chided, building up a bitter feeling in Sky's chest. It was true; there wasn't anything left there that she couldn't take with her. Memories haunted her as soon as she passed the border. Why stay?
Find a new pack, and this time, learn from your mistakes. We don't need that sort of hurt anymore. Sky remained silent for a long time after that, staring at her reflection in the water. She'd changed. Her hair was cut short now, framing her face but never going past her cheekbones, save for the braid that travelled down her spine. She was thinner now, though stronger built from her time spent hunting alone, constantly on the move.
She wasn't that singing songbird that had joined Cercatori D'Arte anymore. She was no one's finch or canary. She could heal broken bones and make well the sick. She could hunt down big game without help from other wolves. She'd taken care of herself these past months. I can't go back anyway. If I do, it'll be to tell Skye and Bangle, and to pick up Casper and the rest of my things. For a moment more, she sat there, staring hard-pressed at her reflection.
Goodbye, Shawchert. I hope you find whatever you're looking for.
The Halifax territory called to her -- there were all manner of shiny trinkets and collectibles, and she might find something useful for the pack there. Departing alone, she had thought to inform Sirius and Larkspur both that she would be leaving for a day or two. She traveled in her Optime form, figuring this would be the form she returned in, after all -- her Lupus form would not provide her with quite enough dexterity for this excursion. On her back she carried a battered burlap sack scrounged from the village, some ancient and dusty barn. There were holes in it, and unfortunately she would have to find a better solution for anything she carried in her hands, but it would do. She carried with her also the bone dagger, the only weapon she had of any substance. The athame would shatter too easily if she attempted to use it as a weapon. Along with that was the driftwood stick, carried as a walking mechanism despite the lack of necessity for it. There was no reason for the hybrid to require a walking aid; her gait was very nearly a swagger as she meandered along the path of the stream, her head filled with thoughts and schemes, plots and various notions she might enforce within Salsola.
The hybrid knew the Dampwoods perhaps better than any other territories; she had spent much of her time in Inferni in these very woods. There was a stream she could follow to Halifax without so much as having to think about the route until she was near enough to the city to see it. Only there did the stream abrubtly end, cut short by a man-made concrete pond that had turned the surrounding area into a bog. That was no fun to walk through, but the coyote appreciated the time to clear her head and keep her mind free of thoughts without having to worry about direction. Abruptly, however, she stopped, becoming aware of a presence -- a voice rang out ahead of her, and she squinted, peering about the underbrush in search of its source. The voice was unfamiliar to her, but armed as she was for the trip, the hybrid was unafraid, stepping forward to seek the voice's owner. “You alright? Who are you speaking to?” she asked softly, not wishing to startle her and having caught only the tail end of the woman's speech. She seemed disheveled, and the hybrid peered at her with hard eyes, still a safe distance away. As always, the hybrid was wary, though not entirely unfriendly in her approach.
Dude, that table is the bomb. Did you make it? Also, my post now comes with 50% more poop.
Sky would've normally spooked, even though the black stranger hadn't meant to do that. However, with the constant nagging of voices in her head, the cracking girl didn't start as yet another voice sounded nearby. Rather, she stayed focused on the water, glaring into her own eyes. Nobody. She murmured, not bothering to answer the concerned part of the question. She wasn't alright. She was hurting inside and out, torn between two worlds and tossed around like some sort of canary in a mine. It wasn't fun being her at that moment.
She glanced towards the source of the new voice, not expecting to see anyone. A mild flash of surprise could be seen her eyes for a moment when she spotted the other woman, so obviously real and living, standing just a few feet away. ...just... thinking out loud. Who are you? Sky's voice was soft, now much more audible. She sat up straighter, keeping a close eye on the other luperci, suspicious more than anything else.
The coyote studied the other woman, chartreuse eyes curious at the cropped pale yellow hair and striking blue eyes, glittering brightly against the tawny coloration of her face. Eris's own face was impassive, but her chartreuse gaze lingered on the adornments in the other canine's ears for a moment, shifting away only when the woman's voice came. Though she spoke, the tawny canine's bright eyes did not meet Eris, and the hybrid did not seem to be noticed. This the sable woman found curious, leaning her weight on the driftwood branch she carried. It was sturdy enough to support her, but the wood was brittle and she did not dare to linger on it, instead shifting after a moment as the canine peered over and seemed surprised at Eris's presence. This Eris found peculiar, though she did not know why.
“I sometimes think out loud, when I think no one is listening,” she offered, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. It wasn't so strange to do this, and the coyote could imagine being embarassed by some of the things she said when she thought no one could hear. Her mouth parted in a brief smile, teeth flashing against sable fur. “Eris Eternity. Yourself?” she responded, offering no designation as to her pack or her homeland. She might have, if asked, and she might not have -- forthright admittance of Salsola was something the sable canine still toyed with, wondering whether to reveal knowledge of her pack at will or whim. Eris couldn't quite tell which it was that drove her at times.
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Thank youuu
