For Panda Behr, set on Quartz Shoreline close to Halcyon/Anathema border. Hover for :: Word Count → 346
Drakien woke up that morning on the shoreline close to the mountains, without Breixo or any of his things anywhere within sight. For a moment, he was somewhat concerned by this, as the first thing that crossed his mind was robbery, but the fact that he was still clothed, his earrings were still firmly in place, and he could faintly hear the familiar sounds of Breixo huffing and snorting not far off. Drakien, lying on his back in the sand and gazing up at the sky, tried to figure out just what, exactly, had happened. He was fairly certain he hadn't drunk any more; at least, he didn't feel hungover, and by the bright sun shining in his eyes, he wasn't hungover, since that would usually cause him to retreat into a little hell-hole of pain and misery.
Unsurprisingly, he couldn't recall much. That was what happened on most nights he traveled, but he was rather used to traveling with people, and then dancing and drinking until dawn. He was fairly certain that hadn't happened, either. Rolling his head to the side to finally look for his faithful steed and precious belongings, he found Breixo, with the blanket taken off his back and Drakien's bags situated strategically around him. The horse was watching the bags rather like a night guard, his legs folded underneath him and his head turning from side to side as though to look for intruders. Drakien didn't remember telling Breixo to do that, although he supposed he must have.
Finally dragging himself up off the sand, he held a hand to his head and looked about, scratching his head curiously before walking--scratch that; crawling--over to Breixo. "Dobroe utro, Breixo." He murmured, and ran a hand down the graceful neck, earning a snort and a nuzzle in return. Gazing curiously at his companion, he asked, "YA ne dumayu, vy mogli by skazatʹ mne, chto sluchilosʹ proshloĭ nochʹyu?"
Recieving only a whicker in return, Drakien muttered, "I thought not," under his breath, and set about searching the campsite for clues.
She had let Zera'im do her job. She was watching Lillith while both Venom and Panda had gone out for a romantic horse back ride down and out of the territory, for it had been getting almost unbearable, the energy of the place. Zera'im knew that Panda could barely stand the pressure of Anathema, the aura that surrounded the mountains were ominous and when you were inside of it for too long, you felt weird when you left. This was what was going on with Panda, and she didn't like it. If her job hadn't required her to be closeby, then she would more than likely be far, far away from Anathema at times. Sure, she did like having a home, but having one where things did not feel right was starting to get to the shamanic witch and she did not like how it had been affecting her personality and her overall mood about things. Panda felt like she knew the reason why it had turned like this. Before Alaki was promoted to Rakeeb, the aura of the mountains seemed to be much friendlier. The hot-headed, immature male had been put as a leader, and Naniko was too blind to the aura to realize that Alaki was fucking it up. It even took Panda some time to think about why the aura of the place was acting funny though, so for someone whom was as spiritually unaware as Naniko (or at least the woman seemed to be in her own world about what she believed rather than having a core set of beliefs.) would over look such an important thing about the pack she ruled over.
Panda had little qualms with the Rakeeb personally, but that did not change the fact that the auras changed dramatically. For better or for worst could be argued, with Panda being on the worst side. The two were silent as they rode alongside each other, Panda seeming to put herself in a trance, staring off into space as Venom watched her actions and remained in the real world just in case the woman needed coaxing to come back to wherever her mind had wandered off to. He had a feeling about what she was thinking about, and Venom had been in on the thoughts of the woman, about the aura of Anathema, and how it had changed since they had been there. He thought that maybe it was them that changed it though, not Alaki. He had changed it some, Venom believed, but Venom also knew that it felt different on the inside than it did on the outside of Anathema since the moment he had stepped foot into the lands. He had not spoken these concerns because Panda seemed to not be worried about it until now. He could not tell her right at the moment because she was lost in lala-land or wherever she liked to go when she was in a trance.
Venom heard someone shuffling through things, and a instinctive growl passed his lips. He sniffed the air to smell the smell of a male, loner. The fur on Venom's shirtless shoulders stood up and his tail was stiff as he rode ahead of the woman and her matching paint steed (he was riding Korosk, Vitani's mate and Zera'im stallion) and he rode towards the male. The giant wolfman emerged from the brush with the equally giant stallion, in the cold winter air, they both seemed very intimidating. Vitani had followed Korosk, and as the smell of Venom wafted past the nose of Panda, she seemed to have woken up. She heard a growl come from Venom, and then the Corson started to pay more attention to the real world. She noticed the smell that Venom smelt and she was not far behind the male. Venom did not speak to the multicolored male, just silently stared, and once Panda had arrived, she had opened her maw to speak. Ya' know, you are pretty close to Anathema borders, loner. Many of the packmembers here are unfriendly to intruders, so I suggest that you don't go any further North. spoke the woman, words of warning. The only loner that was allowed within Anathema lands was Zera'im, and that was under the Corson's word.
After a brief search of his things, he saw the bag containing his recreational revelry drugs somewhat less well-hidden than he'd last seen it, and began to put two and two together. He must have felt lonely enough to throw a party by himself, or perhaps had had some company; the fact that he didn't remember anything was troubling, but with the answer, he wasn't too worried about anything else. Carefully, he tucked the bag back into an inside pocket of his bags, and then set about cleaning up, pulling out a change of pants and his bandanna before walking off toward the water. He was hip-deep in water before he took his clothes off, dunking them in the salty stream before balling them up and throwing them to shore. He even washed the new pair, and pulled them on underwater, feeling for some reason as though he didn't want to get caught with his pants down. Such things didn't usually concern him, but at the moment he was more willing to listen to that odd sixth-sense whispering in his ear than anything else.
he'd only just waded out of the water again, tying back his hair and gathering his wet clothes, when the large duo broke through the underbrush, causing Drakien to freeze. He wasn't used to wolves being larger than he was, as he was closing in on seven feet, but the male who approached was much larger than that, and Drakien found himself intimidated. He hardly noticed the woman who followed the large male, and when he did, Drakien physically jerked himself out of his frozen, most-probably-guilty-perpatrator look, shaking out his clothes and moving to lay them out on a rock that would soon be warmed by the sun. "I apologize, tovarishch. It is not being my intention to trespass." He said, and turned to face the two on horseback, executing a flourishing bow. After a moment with his nose essentially pressed against his knees, he straightened, scratching his head again and looking about.
Really, he had no idea where he was, as the last time he'd checked he had been camped outside Halifax. Wrinkling his nose and looking about uneasily, he finally questioned, "I am begging your pardon, but can you be telling me where it is that this....Anathema border is located?" He tried his best to look sincere, but probably only succeeded in looking confused, and then thought it best to go on to explain, "Last I am remembering, this was Halifax..." He had the notion that this wasn't the case, anymore, and truly felt lost. If he didn't even know what direction to travel in to reach familiar territory, how was he going to get back to his temporarily permanent campsite in Drifter Bay? All he knew at the moment was not to go any further North, else he would be trespassing--and, from the warning he'd received and the looks of the man before him, he'd be torn apart and eaten for breakfast, then.
