the lost and damned

He didn’t think he would ever be able to wash the scent of smoke off his skin.

It permeated everything, clinging to him like an ill rewarded shroud or worse—a hungering ghost that lurked even the deepest recesses of his dreams. One would have thought that running just past the point of sheer exhaustion would render dreams quiet, but his were vibrant, and violent. Even there the flames that had chased him licked and bit at the edges of what may have been pleasant memories.

The morning air was crisp and clean; it woke him gently and snuffed out dreams in exchange for reality. Nothing seemed out of place at first, though Skulgris couldn’t have made a guess as to where he was. There was an absence of smoke to be seen, but he was certain that it had followed him over one rise and another. His legs ached as a reminder when he rose to survey where he had collapsed, and he found no trace of the path he had been on, or a sign of where he might have been heading. But the sun had been setting then, he remembered. The fire had been just a valley over, and he dared not to think what more it had wrought.

Turning away, he set his sight on the expanse before him. This was perhaps the only thing that was right, being nestled in the hillsides between mountain ranges. Both jagged and weathered lines held no familiarity in their shapes; this was strange country to him, through and through. Stranger still was what broke up the view—the tree.

He blinked at it, not once but twice.

Of all the things he could recall, that was most certainly not it.

A hard line creased his expression and writ to stone the first of his problems: where was he? It drew his focus to what lay before him, and then around. This wasn’t a well traveled place by any means. Nothing had woke him, nothing raised the alarm instinctively to suggest he ought to be wary. Realization however had other plans for him; a disconcerting vice gripped him and as he took a few shaky steps forward, he could not shake the disorientation.

The sun in the sky wasn’t in the right place, no. Neither were the placement of the mountains. The air smelled wrong, too crisp and clear and clean—and now he was quite certain that his coat was singed though he didn’t dare check. And the tree? He had to tear his gaze away from it time and time again, it was simply too bizarre. No, there was nothing right in the world now, not that his take of the world was fully right to begin with.

Somewhere, he heard a branch snap in the woods that he had blindly gone to. He froze–pulled so jarringly from his own thoughts that they were silenced. If ever a trace of his own confusion had been there, it was long gone now. Time could have slowed for all he knew, now too invested in what may have lurked just beyond his field of view.
the staff team luvs u

It enjoyed being around this absurdly large tree. It had been able to feed itself with a few rats and mice it had found amongst the roots, and it offered shelter from much of the weather. The nameless creature had lingered beneath its branches and in the forest for a few sleeps now, since receiving help from the kind wolf. It had not wanted to go too far.

Still, it wandered amongst the trees and root system, quiet as the rodents it consumed. This was vastly preferable to being out in the tundra, where it had no reprieve from the cold and the snow. The forest and the tree were a much better place.

Often, it had wondered if its friend would have liked it here. Often, it woke, expecting to find him sleeping beside it, arms wrapped around its frame. It looked different now than its had the last time it looked at itself. Before, its ears had drooped at the ends and its fur had been spotted and longer. Its tail had curled over its back. Its eyes were brown and not gold.

It had changed. There was still mottling in its fur, but it was more brown than anything. Its eyes had changed to gold. Its ears had perked. It looked more wolf than what it had been.

Would its friend even recognize it now, it wondered?

It hardly recognized itself.

Wandering amongst the roots of the trees, right on the edges, it spotted a black figure approaching. It remained quiet and low to the ground, body as still as standing water. It did not initially plan on approaching, but the desire to get a closer look, curiosity, won out, and it crept nearer the trees' edge.

This would prove to be a mistake. Its front left paw caught a twig and it cracked, and the other wolf froze, staring in the Creature's direction.

It had frightened the wolf, which had not been its intention. Not wishing to continue to do so, it crept the rest of the way from its hiding spot, a chuff escaping it, body still pressed low to the ground. It still could not form words, and so it hoped to convey through nonverbal language that it was not a threat.

the staff team luvs u

It was a tense few moments.

Meticulously his gaze went over all as though he could turn every stone and flip back every leaf. Wait, leaves? In winter? Another blink, this time slow and coordinated as he sorted the fragments of a souring reality that dared to blend fact and fiction.

If the other was truly a threat, they could have had him dead to rights. Skulgris never found them until he heard the hushed call and only then did he pick out another not too dissimilar to himself, at least by color. Pressed flat to the earth, the wolf did what it did best, and blended well in shadows.

He curled his lips back, but did not growl. A silent warning and yet part invitation; he was curious, naturally, but did not take to being snuck up on. Fortune may have favored the bold but Skulgris knew caution kept them alive.
the staff team luvs u