no heroes and villains

Did she belong in Elysium?

Did Harper actually want her around?

Had Valeska grown tired of her sulking as she pieced together the fragments of her life?

Outside of direct communication and being open, there was no way of knowing.. but she certainly wasn't about to gather them all around the campfire to discuss feelings. Annika preferred not to have any whatsoever, though since awakening in the foreign land she had found them amplified tenfold. Her grief was heavier, her laughs were lighter, her overall being seemed to be all the most exhausting parts smashed into one -- without anything else. Nothing made sense, but her feeling of being misplaced no matter where she went had a tendency to unintentionally alienate herself from everyone else. How many wolves were even in the pack? She didn't know. She didn't know their names, their histories.. everything about them made her want to curl in on herself and hide.

But she was trying.

Annika was trying to step out of her comfort zone and seek out the other members, most of which already seemed to have been connected in some way. Truly the outsider, she remained along the outskirts of the territory and only ventured deeper within to socialize. So, rarely.

Today she was on the hunt for some company, hoping to strike some sort of kinship between herself and Elysium. Anxious as she was to be potentially rejected, Annika moved slowly. Uncertainly.

Would it have been any less awkward for her to travel with Rosencrantz and Miriam, though?

Where did a girl go when she didn't belong anywhere at all?

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The strange scents of the earth lingered deep within the tendrils of her coat; the murky, musty, unfamiliar scents of the outlandish world that slowly was becoming her new home. The new scents refreshed her, rejuvenated a trapped soul that had perhaps spent too much time sitting so stoically in one place. And yet, ultimately, she knew where her body would return to rest. She didn't know for how long she'd been gone from the Respite, for the days and nights had blurred into one continuous stretch of time. Time that moved so painstakingly slow, and so fast that it slipped between the very webbing of her golden paws. But the familiar territory began to stretch against the horizon, reminding her that her adventure, for now, was over.

A hard sigh pressed between her dark lips, deep amethyst eyes swirling from behind dilated pupils. Another day had risen from behind the clouded mountains, guiding her home to the quiet lake. She drew forth from the shadows with the early breaths of the morning sun, the golden light accentuating the warm beige of her coat. And she moved like a sunbeam, fluttering delicately through the hanging branches of the sparse canopy. And for a woman who ran on so little sleep, there was an eerie elegance in the way she danced forward, silent leaps pressing her from the rocky terrain and over the outstanding obstacles that obscured the recognizable path home.

And it was at the edges of the lake's outskirts that she caught a fresh scent. Unfamiliar, but draped lazily with the blossoming scent of the wolves of Elysium.

She was an intimidating figure of a woman, draped in earthly chocolates and drizzled with the well-known scent of Harper and Valeska. And there was a subtle familiarity in the way the imposing woman was built that reminded her very starkly of Harper herself. Amaranth's lithe frame did not hesitate, skipping forward and phasing through the glittering sunbeams that cascaded from the cloudless morning sky. Purple eyes caught the sky-blue lenses of the other, golden frame wavering to a slow halt as she neared the stranger. Gilded ears pressed forward, but her expression revealed naught about her save her curiosity. Eternally hungry, devouring eyes that traced every inch of that oddly familiar frame.

"You look familiar," she stated plainly, offering an oddly unsettling smile that curled her dark lips upward along her angled face. "You smell familiar," came the next sentence, eerie eyes blinking with purposeful slowness. "And yet, I do not know you." Her head tilted to the side in a mechanical motion as she appraised the other. There was no threat behind her eyes, and perhaps this was but her awkward way of asking her - "who are you?"

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Annika should do better. She should plunge herself into the heart of the territory and greet every single wolf she met, put on a social masquerade until it settled into permanence. Eventually it wouldn’t be a lie. If she was determined and held a paper mask to her face long enough, surely it would become part of her? Maybe she could even trick herself into thinking she was a social butterfly. Maybe she could completely reprogram herself to feel included even on the days when she clearly was not, and maybe everything would be okay as a lie. Wouldn’t it have been nicer, she wondered, to happily live a lie instead of sulking around in the truth? Ah, but she didn’t have the wherewithal or the confidence to put on such an elaborate ruse. They would call her bluff before too long and the shame that would come with being outed would send her tearing from the mountainside altogether.

No, perhaps it was better to just.. be Annika. The awkward and uncomfortable, the outcast, the she-wolf who had never once been given the tools necessary to form a functioning adult. She was a mess, but she was her own woman -- and not everyone could say the same.

Her forward motion came to an abrupt pause when a voice sliced through the air, startling her the tiniest bit. Annika turned to gaze upon the golden goddess with an impercetible amount of disdain. Gods, another one? Another gorgeous woman in the pack, decked in robes of gold and oozing eloquence. She wanted to hate her out of jealousy, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, she simply replied. “My name is Annika, I.. maybe look familiar because Harper is sister. Well, half-sister.” Annika didn’t know how she was feeling about that these days, so she wanted to distance herself as much as possible. For Harper’s sake. “Did not know had sister, but.. do.” Her ears splayed to the sides of her head as she studied the queen, clearly intrigued. “What your name?” Fair was fair.

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sorry for the wait <3

---

There was a strange dissonance in the way the other interacted. A  flighty bird ready to disperse at the rustle of a leaf. For a woman of such stature, she acted like a timid child ... but perhaps Amaranth had over-adjusted to the overtly open ways in which the wolves of Elysium interacted — practically screaming for attention; wagging tails and smiling teeth. But this iron-clad woman was very different. Her face and heart were a fortress. It was almost as if she wanted to disappear into the depths of the lake ... as if drowning perhaps was better than simple social interaction.

In a way, Amaranth admired her.

But the ghostly woman's purple gaze was a prison, grasping the other tightly in a snare that she did not dare to let go of. There was far too much curiosity there to let the other walk away; her scent was too familiar, the gentle curves of her larger body unrelenting. Her sweet scent was that of snow and pine — thickly laced with fresher scents of other Elysium wolves. The delicate scents on her chocolate coat told a story; a story that Amaranth devoured with her tongue, her teeth, and her eyes. And there was a heated intensity in the way in which she held the other, something hungry and demanding but ... patient. Patience eternal. For what food could a viper possibly acquire by being impulsive?

And it was then that the stranger elucidated matters. Harper's half-sister. No wonder the stature and tones of her coat were so familiar. And as she spoke, Amaranth realized the foreign drawl of her voice was familiar too. That same thick accent rolled easily from her deep vocals, a gentle humming purr that radiated through Amaranth's body. Like fire.

"Oh, I knew you seemed familiar. Another sister," the eerie woman mused gently, a soft smile spreading like wildfire across her lips. Her relationship with the other two Russian women was quite positive, but oh-so-different. One a best friend. One ... one ... well, their relationship was yet to have a label. And Amaranth could not help but wonder what unique facets this other sister would bring to her life. "I am Amaranth, a friend of your sister ... and her sister, too," she answered gently, talking a few flowing steps forward, uncoiling like golden silk; a perfected elegance that was tainted by her endless nights of insomnia. The occasional slip of a paw, or twitch of a limb.

"I wonder what it's like to find a lost piece of your family," she inquired gently, tilting her head to the side as her gilded ears pressed forward once more. Her lavender gaze churned. "Did you feel ... connected? Instantly?" She did not indicate if that connection would be positive or negative ... she simply asked if it existed. And she asked but she knew ... she knew she would never want to see any of her family ever again. Lost or not. They represented something she no longer wished to remember. But part of her feared she would find them here, here in this purgatory. This hell for lost souls.

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There was something unsettling about the whole lot of them, to be quite honest. They all seemed haunted in ways that understood one another, like each of them shared the others grief and carried their pain until no one knew which belonged to who. A tangled web of snakes writhing, comfortable with one another, hissing at the outsider that wanted so desperately a place to belong. It was nothing like that, Annika knew, but inserting herself into a group that already seemed so at ease with one another put her at a disadvantage. How could she belong when things had already been established, and how could she hope to be anywhere near as beautiful or interesting as the golden woman in front of her? Annika's earthy tones were dull in comparison, and the amethyst gaze that peered out at her was disarming. She had a feeling @Amaranth knew that, too.

"Is nice to meet," she offered with a polite dip of her crown, hoping that was truly the case. If she was a friend of both Harper and Valeska, well.. she supposed that made her worth befriending. Befriending.. or whatever other pathetic attempt at socialization Annika could muster at any given moment in time.

Now that the proverbial cat was out of the bag, Annika had anticipated questions. Many (including herself) were confused on the details, and while she was prepared to answer them honestly, she hadn't been expecting such a straight punch to the gut. The question that slipped from her lips was not one Annika had expected, let alone had an answer for to immediately fire off. No, she had to actually sit and <i>think</i> for a moment before replying. "No." Easy enough. She could have left it at that had she not assumed the woman wanted more.

"Felt disconnect. Shock. Scared. Confused. No rainbow and butterfly, just.. confuse. We just stare at each other, almost like wish had never met the other." Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say. "I.. not see her since then, don't know how she feel on it. But no, definitely no instant connect. Pain, if anything." Pain because Annika so desperately wanted to know if their father had mistreated her in the same way, or if for some reason, she had been worth keeping around.

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Reservation still traced the thicker features of the earthen-toned woman. Amaranth was patient, observing the other with silent fascination. She was so different, and yet so hauntingly similar to Harper. She was intriguing, fascinating. Unique. There was something that remained hidden deep within the stranger, veiled behind roaring waterfall eyes. Glittering blue water, sparkling like untouchable azure gems. Yes, this woman was far more reserved, and perhaps far more broken than her Russian counterparts.

But that was what intrigued the golden lady.
She wanted to know more.

Perhaps there was a piece of her that was like Amaranth, too.

"Is nice to meet," the stranger offered simply, the commonplace of manners evolving from where the awkward silence should have lived. Amaranth did not respond, her unrelenting lavender gaze speaking volumes in themselves. The gilded witch was never one for small-talk, and that much was abundantly obvious in the very way she moved and breathed. She was the flutter of raven's wings, beating on the wind with dark intention until she dispersed into a puff of ebony smoke. She lingered only for as long as necessary.

But Elysium had changed that. Valeska had changed that.
And perhaps she could change that for Annika too.

Annika softly unwound, the darkness pouring from her lips about her despair and confusion she had felt in meeting her family. Shock. Pain. And Amaranth nodded gently, a slow and subtle notion that she understood. She felt that pain. She knew it well. Those deep purple eyes sparked with familiar recognition of the emotions that Annika portrayed, and Amaranth's golden crown tilted gently. Ske blinked slowly; digesting. "Family can scar us," she offered enigmatically, raising a single brow as her soft gaze devoured the other. "My family," she restarted, nearly spitting the word out of her lips like droplets of venom, "they scarred me, too." The tone of her eyes darkened, deepening like an ocean of expanding, enigmatic emotion.

Golden, lithe frame took a step forward, entering closer into Annika's personal bubble like a slithering serpent. "But I have chosen my new family, now." Ears pressed forward expectantly. "You can do the same, you know," she purred now, a slender grin pulling up the feminine edges of her lips. The darkness had dispelled from her heavily lidded eyes, fluttering away as quickly as it had come. "You never know. The path may lead you somewhere else ... or perhaps ... back to them." She'd edged in closer, closer, closer. Lavender breath exhaling softly into the air that sparked like static betwixt them. Annika smelled so much like them, that hint of snow and pine hitting Amaranth close to her heart.

Something about her made her hungry for more. But it also made her inclined to help. To crack open that shell of sadness and free Annika's soul into the world.

All while she hid behind her own veil of secretive safety, of course.

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Annika's brow furrowed as @Amaranth offered her thoughts, pointing out a few facts about family that she had already learned. Years ago. She wanted to sneer at the comment, but instead simply shook her head. "No," the dark woman countered, shifting onto her haunches with a muted thud. "Family does not scar. Not real family. Everyone else just blood relative, but real family does not.. does not scar." Annika refused to believe anything appropriately labeled family would ever scar anything, at least not intentionally. "You not scarred by family. You scarred by individual blood relative." And that was how Annika chose to see things, through a set of glasses she had dipped in red paint in an attempt to color them rose.

A woman with her occupation did not observe personal space as something to be respected, so she made no move as the golden wolf slipped closer. "Easier to choose new family when existing family is not already confused by your existence," Annika said with a soft laugh. "But yes. Understand. Had thought family would be with Rosencrantz, but now.. well, Elysium. I not go back to those monsters, path be damned." And that was that on that, thank you.

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"No," the dark lady injected, her throaty voice heavy on the quiet air. That dark head shook, her frame leaning and shifting to lower herself onto the earth. Perhaps to get comfortable. Perhaps to melt into the cast shadow that crawled along the grass beneath their paws. Amaranth's lavender eyes blinked with a radiant, other-worldly curiosity as Annika explained her understanding of family. Family. Blood relatives. Scars. But scars were not only physical; they were emotional, too. And perhaps emotion was where the brunt of both of their damages resided. "You not scarred by family. You scarred by individual blood relative," the woman finished, and a thin smile crept up the edges of Amaranth's dark lips.

"Perhaps you're right," she mused, blinking slowly as she ruminated on the idea that family and blood relatives could be different entities. "Blood is not always family," she re-iterated as if clarifying a lesson she'd been studying. Her gaze seemed to lilt for a moment, trailing away from Annika as she introverted for a moment, dissociating as flashes of distant memory roared in the back of her mind. "Still," she continued absently, eyes glassy. "They both stick with you as if they were one and the same." She blinked a few times, vision returning as she turned her slender golden muzzle back toward Annika. The smile had faded, but there was a softness beneath her purple lenses.

Annika continued, laughing as she mentioned that her family ... were confused about her existence. Amaranth wanted to chuckle too, but the sound never escaped her lips. Confusion and curiosity were two pairs in the same emotion. The world was never without confusion, and that was why Amaranth always hungered for information. For knowledge. Whether it made sense or not. Annika continued on to mention Elysium, and another word — Rosencrantz. Another pack? Or perhaps a blood relative? Either way, the lady was adamant about never seeing them again, huffing finally with a solid — "I not go back to those monsters, path be damned."

"Very well, Janus — God/Goddess of Crossroads. Paths and monsters be damned," Amaranth said through a slim smile of sharp teeth. Let them wander forever off the beaten trail. Let them discover new life, new breath, new experience. If only there were not monsters within all of them. Amaranth paused a moment before continuing: "I am sorry to have brought up your family so quickly," she continued, lifting a single brow as that eerily angelic voice graced the morning air. She'd been ... trying to be a bit more ... personable? Since joining Elysium. But old habits would die very, very slowly (and very unwillingly). And clearly family was a very touchy subject (for both of them). "Curiosity is a curse, and you, like your ... family ... have a way of enchanting me," she added dramatically, that mischievous nature of her shimmering through. Purple eyes glittered as she passed her tongue over her dark lips.

"If you'd like, I can leave you be," she offered finally, even though she still felt that curiosity burning. And it was obvious in the heat that still lingered behind her eyes.

Who — or what — was Rosencrantz?
Did the women of Elysium need to kick their ass?

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Amaranth was unlike any other wolf that Annika had ever met, somehow managing to be ethereal despite her earth-bound body. It was similar in the way Valeska existed as a goddess among mortals, blessing those she passed by with the grace of gods unknown yet still hungering for meals and shivering from cold. Annika could not understand how such women came to be, these Amazons in their own right, and wondered what sweet nectar they had been nursed with to blossom into such fantastical beings. If only she could pluck a single strand of golden fur from @Amaranth, she wondered how it might shift her reality into something much more pleasant. Still, the holiness was not something for a immoral soul like Annika to touch, and so she simply stared from behind the glass at the spectacle beyond.

Also, who the hell was Janice? Annika blinked, clearly confused. "No, am Annika.. no Janice." Could Amaranth have forgotten so quickly, and Janice? Simply preposterous, did she look like a Janice? Possibly, but it didn't make the dark wolf any less perplexed by the name. Similarly, hearing that Amaranth was intrigued by her family was quite.. unusual. Annika hadn't even known her family until recently, and it wasn't as though she knew anyone outside of Harper that was related by blood. Still, the apology was there and she was quick to wave it off. "No sorry, it fine. I just struggle to suddenly have family after years of not. Very confusion. Am sorry for enchanting, is anything can do?" Because enchanting was bad, wasn't it?

As uncomfortable as the discussion of family was, Annika surprised herself by declining Amara's offer to go. "No, no, please stay. Am not good at talk or friend-make, did not mean to come off as cold." The she-wolf offered a thin smile and a few courtesy tail wags, hoping it was enough to convince the golden goddess to give her another chance.

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FORGIVE THE WAIT — I wanted to at least give this SOME kind of a closer. <3 Let's put the girls together again soon.

---

Amaranth blinked thoughtfully, eyeing the darker-coated female. Those icy blue eyes held volumes of untold stories, and Amaranth peered forward, silently searching her with diligent dedication. What feature was it about these Russian women that were so ... entrancing? They were so bold, strong, beautiful ... dangerous, in their own right. And perhaps it was that unpredictability that kept her senses tingling the way they did. That kept her intoxicated and curious and hungry for more. Her tongue ran over the fronts of her ermine teeth, and he could feel her jaw quiver every so slightly with curiosity so present that she could taste it. She wanted to taste it.

But no, she should continue to be polite.

"No, am Annika.. no Janice."

Amaranth smiled softly, flicking her long, golden tail behind her. If only she knew, it was simply a term of endearment. To be nicknamed by Amaranth was to be, in a way, filed into her collection. It was a way for her to remember. "Yes, Annika, I know. Forgive me. I am used to making ... nicknames ...?" The smile spread across her lips, head tilting ever-so-slightly as if to question if the other understood what she meant. Janus conquered crossroads. Made her own paths. Just like Annika.

"Am sorry for enchanting, is anything can do?" Precious Janus. Amaranth took a half step forward, tempted to touch in a gesture of (selfish) comfort, but she hesitated. "Don't apologize," she mused gently, a soft laugh rolling off her tongue. "I quite like being enchanted." The woman offered a playful wink, waving her tail back and fanning the scent of lavender through the air.

The other seemed to relax a bit, encouraging Amaranth to stay. Apologizing. There was a sudden, new innocence there as the veils of stone that Annika worse cracked ever-so-slightly. Underneath that guise was a woman wanting to be seen, loved, understood. But there was trauma somewhere that created a barrier. Created those volumes, and volumes of untold stories. "Come, Jan—Annika," Amaranth offered with a gentle smile, turning her body and beginning to walk toward the forested edge of the Respite. Purple eyes peered over her shoulder as she lifted her brows expectantly. "Come walk with me, let us make friends."

Annika was not cold. And if she felt that way, Amaranth would be certain to warm her with her presence. For she was family now, and Amaranth would do her best — in whatever weird way she could — to make Annika feel welcomed. And perhaps, as a reward, Annika would share some of those stories with the eternally curious woman clad in gold.

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Exit Amaranth/end thread so we can start a new one :3

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