Forever

Snow twinkled in the rising light of the early morning lifting the girl's spirit. Something she had so desperately needed these past few months. She had spent much time nursing herself back to health, coming to the conclusion that the horrible, selfish, individuals of Velaris weren't worth her life after all, especially not her loyalty when they went out of their way to spit on her dying body.

Still her stomach churned once in a while from the damage she had caused to herself, but damage that would remind her that she was much stronger than she had originally thought herself to be... still. She wondered how @Savan was doing. One of the few who stood by her even though they had a rocky beginning.

At least now she had that chance to do so.

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He felt exhausted. His dreams felt too vivid, too painful to be a dream. The Kralj was tormented, his mind replaying the memories he swore he had forgotten when he had awakened in these lands. Being alone made every day a battle, a way of ripping the scabs off of his steal healing wounds. Lucian was being forced to remember everything again, things he wished would leave him alone.

He could hear and see Vanille, the disappointment that drove the white-hot dagger into his heart. This was torture for his sins; he knew it. His mother spoke of punishments when he was a child, of how the world would come back to bite those who did wrong. And now, Lucian understood what she meant.

As Lucian left his mountainous home of Risnjak, he wandered down in the forest just beneath them, the Everfrost. He had not come to this place in some time, not since he last saw Vanille. The forest was usually void of strangers, a sea untouched by others. But on this morning, a strong scent permeated the area. It was feminine-like and floral in nature. It had interested him. He hadn't smelled such a scent in some time.

While the Kralj wanted to play pleasant neighbor, his possessiveness reared its ugly head. He stood still, his larger frame a looming ghost in the snow. "Jesi li izgubljen?" — Are you lost? Lucian watched the dark-furred woman with a blank expression, pale gaze fixated on her face. The woman was not of the area; that much was noticeable. Her dark fur was a beacon among the untouched mountain, calling for any that roamed within these lands. The girl was just lucky it was him and not a dangerous man.

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skill ; outrider

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In contrast to summer's buzz with life in every crevasse. Birds singing, bugs with their own tune adding to the symphony within the grasses and the branches of the trees. Winter... was silent. Nothing like the island she grew up on where summer always seemed to be present. Thankfully her coat helped to keep her warm but there was still a certain chill she couldn't get accustomed to. Her toes especially were chilled and every once in a while she would have to shake off the snow that stuck to the fur between her pads and get the blood flowing back in them.

But it wasn't unbearable.

In mid shake of a paw a voice called out from the silence other than the crunching snow of her own paws. He was tall, handsome, brooding... and spoke a language she didn't understand. In a way, it reminded her of Velaris. She met his gaze defiantly with the thought lingering in the back of her head. Never again. But she wouldn't be rude nor cruel. Simply, she wouldn't be a pushover.

“I'm sorry. I don't understand.” Shifting her stance, she would face him with a tranquil posture. Not approaching the man, nor would she run.

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The defiance in the stranger's eyes irked him. He was a prince, no a king. And no one should ever look at a king in such a way. But when their mouth opened, their tone did not reflect the fire that danced within their eyes. Lucian almost snorted. What was this? A game? A game to push him to his limits only to offer something to soothe his growing anger.

"I asked if you were lost." Lucian replied, his tone almost bored. These run-ins with nomads seemed to come at a time when he had no energy to deal with them. He was not in the mood to deal with problems. Dunja had quickly stepped into the responsibility of being his hand, helping him where he needed her assistance. It was a blessing the king made sure to thank her for.

But now, he knew it was time he stepped up. It was time for him to wear his crown and act like the kralj his pack needed him to be. And right now, it meant figuring out what this stranger wanted.

"And now I ask you, what is it you call yourself?" He hummed, vibrant eyes searching the woman for a sign of aggression. He was not opposed to killing her on the spot should she attempt to attack him. It'd allow him to relive the days of before, of the days he spilled blood in the name of a king he no longer supported.

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skill ; outrider, strategist

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Everything about this man reminded her of Velaris. Was it just the wolves of this land who were cold and unwelcoming? Whatever she had done to any of them to receive such greetings ever since awakening in this unforgiving land, was unforgivable. She would remember them all, especially those who believed they were above those without a crown who suffered on their lonesome in the neutral lands. Such things were welcome on their island. To live alone was harsh, together they could all thrive; did none of them understand this?

Was all their trust shattered by a previous bad loner they took under their wing and treachery was painted on the faces of strangers from then on?

“I am not.” Curt. She wouldn't give him nor anyone more than what she was being given in return.

“My name is not yours to take. Call me what you wish. You have seen my face and can remember my scent, the last you need is what is solely mine now.” She was a seed. A hardened shell. A lotus wrapped in a shield of stone who refused to blossom again under harsh weather.

“You approached me. What do you want?”
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