wendigo

there is a before.

there must be, roanoke thinks.

but he cannot recall it. it eludes him; like trying to grasp smoke betwixt his teeth.

this ... this must be the after.

he awoke; startled. uncertainty gives way quickly to caution as scorching orange gaze moves rapidly 'round his surroundings. assessing, like a soldier dropped suddenly into a war zone. vantage points. open lays of the land and cervices and shadows where he ( or another predator ) can hide. the lake draws his eye, when his gaze rests upon it. lips smacking for a moment as he is suddenly, perhaps achingly, made aware of how dry his mouth was. like his tongue had become sandpaper.

damp from the light drizzle that had, at some point, began falling ... roanoke tests the strength of his limbs; strong despite abyss of a void in his mind where he is sure memories should be. a soft grunt lingers in his chest as he makes his way to the lake's bank, bowing his head to lap at the cool water.

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leitha had not been one to shy away from the rain, per say, but it didn't suit the thin texture of her coat, either. the petals that found there way braided into her fur stuck their ground, fortuntately, which radiated a lethally floral perfume around her. that brought a smile to her face.

she had managed to keep herself dry for the most part. the most part. until her throat had grown raw from the desire to drink from the lake just beyond the layer of trees. the barrier of woodland protected her from the beyond— the great open of what she didn't know. but when did that stop her? now, maybe, when she came close to breaching that blanket of security when a male stood there.

she wasn't alone.

intimidated by his height and broad-structure, she'd almost turn and scramble away, but her instincts held her down. rooted to the place where she stood. her head dipped towards the ground, her feet finally taking those cautious, yet dauntless steps past her safeguarded tree that she hid behind.

"room for another...?" she'd break the silence with her soft voice behind him. it wasn't as high pitched as some other girls she knew, telling her it was a disadvantage that her cadence had been so...manly. it made her insecure to speak, but this was about survival now as she faced the man draped in mahogany and toffee robes. handsome... maybe.

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a voice drifts to him; soft but lacking in a feathering, high pitch. his left ear twitches, a last lap of water taken before his head lifts. droplets dribble off his chin as he peers over his shoulder, noting her lingering partially hidden behind a tree. a soft clear of his throat is given, disorientation briefly abated as he feels for his voice.

ironically, or perhaps not ironic at all, he notes that she is pretty. draped in a pelage of various shades of cream with pops of colors that he thinks may be flowers. she smells floral, but in these strange and alien lands he isn't sure he entirely trusts what he sees, yet. still unsure of the where and the why.

“of course,” he invites, finally; gesturing for her to approach the lake.

he takes a few steps to the left, giving her space to approach; trying to sort through the cobwebbed, weak tendrils of memories that he does have, trying to conjure a name of any kind to offer.

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the stranger had glanced towards her, water trickling from his carved chin. shamelessly, leitha would stare at the droplets, then back to him once she realized what she had been doing. but there was no guilt, just a light smile.

her feet carried her to the bank beside him, the blades of palm grass tickling the thick skin around her elbows. his voice had been gruff, clogged by the sound of what seemed like a lack of speech. it must've been a while since he's really talked to anyone, maybe.

and if she was the first in a while...well, that was quite special, wasn't it?

leitha's head dipped towards the water, refreshing her parched throat from the light singing she had done beneath the roof of birch trees. the light drizzle of rain continued to dampen her coat, and she let out a little huff of distress when she turned her head towards the clouds. she never liked thunderstorms.

it hadn't been thundering. yet.

"thank you," leitha dipped her head in thanks towards the man.
"we should find shelter, shouldn't we? all this rain..."

leitha trailed off as she took another peek at the darkening sky. if he had said no, then she would've gone to find herself.

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