you're growing tired of me

Head. Hurts.

Vasilisa slowly rose. Her eyes were squinted against the blinding white of sunkissed snow, ears folded back against her throbbing skull.

Where the hell...

The shadow hoisted herself to her limbs, shaking her head in a futile attempt to shed the sudden haze that clouded her mind. Nostrils flared against the frigid atmosphere, filling her senses with the sharp scent of coniferous woods and fresh snowfall. 

No, surely not. Last she'd checked, she was in the comforts of her den, in a temperate forest with her own sum of land. Not... wherever this was.

Willowy limbs stepped over the gnarling roots of trees, stepping meticulously over the frost-laden leaf litter and pressing forward, eventually halting at the tree line.

This was not her home.

“What the fuck?” Her jaws fell slightly ajar, brows furrowed into an incredulous scowl. No, surely... this was some sort of practical joke. Some sort of weird dream, maybe even a deep, abstracted trance that she simply had to snap out of.

Yet... the ground was too palpable, the scents too real.

Vasilisa spent months repairing what she'd lost. Finally, finally, she was content with her forsaken life. She's escaped the unrelenting snares of grief, rebuilt her home from its decayed conditions of seasons passed. “This isn't fucking funny​​​​​​.” Lips peeled back into a snarl, one middling between rage and anguish. She trotted forward and continued onwards.

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She woke as gracefully as the aura she embodied, as if she had been laid gently upon the cool earth the wind of the sea playing with her fur, particularly the more fine strands among her ears. “This isn't fucking funny​​​​​​.”  the course words brought the dame to flutter her eyes open.

A cleaned paw tucking against her chest as she yawned and sought the owner of such rage first - until she began to realize that while she did get the breeze of the ocean against her face. It was ─ cold. The girl shuttered, an ear turning back slightly as she blinked those baby blue eyes, confusion and appall beginning to settle in her stomach. “Lottie, dear?” she cooed for her companion as she rose to her feet and gave her coat a good shake.

But what she came to find was not her Coatimundi, but a beast black as night with piercing silver eyes. This was the kind of monster that lived in stories and legends, the kind that looked the part. But Lucie was a monster too - just a different kind. With her pom tail held high above her back she trotted over, leaving plenty of space. “You seem lost too” she hummed gently. 

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Her angered frenzy was interrupted by a quiet voice behind her—immediately, Vasilisa turned to face the newcomer. “Huh?” She pressed her ears back against her nape.

There stood a creature that Vasilisa could only describe as... domestic. She knew of these animals—Lutiger's mother was a dog—yet... this one seemed foreign. With frizzy, well-kept fur, and big round eyes. They glimmered with a look of saccharine innocence that left a sour taste on her tongue.

'You seem lost too.' Came the gentle croon.

“Lost...” Her voice dropped for a moment as she parroted the lass's words. There were, seemingly, a few moments of hesitation before Vasilisa scoffed and shook her head. Her words came with venom in her timbre. “Beyond lost. I've been... I— I don't... I shouldn't be here,” her voice faltered as her confidence wavered. It served merely to make her angrier. “I'm not from here, I have a home—” Quiet ramblings continued to quiet until eventually, the woman paced, softly muttering to herself.

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 “Huh?” apparently manners weren't this ones forte. She was defensive, everything about her screamed aggression but not in the sense of confidence; no that isn't was Lucie got at all. She got...fear. And this only solidified when she spoke. “Lost...” the girls thick ears twitched, the hair was loose and heavy but the prick in the movement could still be noticed. 

“Beyond lost. I've been... I— I don't... I shouldn't be here,”  again it bled from her, uncertainty, mock confidence failing her. “I'm not from here, I have a home—” blue eyes watched, beneath them the viper coiling awaiting her opening as the girl paced, anxiety riddling her. On the outside, Lucie let out a quiet, deep sigh. “Don't I feel that honey, I'm not from here either...I just woke up, right over there” she nosed in the direction. “I belong on the beach with the sun warming my back, alas...” she sighed again. 

“I reckon we might be able to look out for one another at the very least...what's your name doll?” she tilted her head, waiting to see if she might take her up on the offer of companionship and assistance. 

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Vasilisa watched the elegant dog and heeded her words. 'Don't I feel that honey, I'm not from here either...I just woke up, right over there.'  Pleasant to note that she wasn't alone in this strange circumstance, the woman figured. 'I belong on the beach with the sun warming my back, alas...' Vasilisa hummed, turning her head towards the foreign landscape with a scowl still knitting her brow.

How... asinine. What sort of comparison was it, to be lounging about by the coast, compared to maintaining her own territory...? She tried not to let the grimace show on her face. 'I reckon we might be able to look out for one another at the very least...what's your name doll?' A snort. She didn't need anyone to look out for her.

Still, she responded. As ridiculous as it felt, she nearly felt obligated to return the kindness—albeit, the woman herself was far from kind. “...Vasilisa. Is my name.” Her words were curt, simple. She didn't expect nor particularly desire a return of the gesture. All she truly wanted was to find a way back out, back into her home. 

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