Sorry I'm the one that told you so,

@Olive

The Queen hung past the mountains and near that of Nightwalkers. She held close to where she had last seen @Tavra, and curiously, held to the same location. A fiery eye, looking beyond to that of a river. She gingerly touched it, an assessment of how deep that it was and wondered.. Should she cross forward? On another day if she were not without young Celnes would attempt so, and yet without someone as well at home to trust to take reigns, for if anything went wrong.. She did not think further, nor' move further.

Though she would return to Elkshire in an hour of haste, for the meanwhile she stared into the plains, vaguely wandering if thats where they went. She too though, wanted to properly see what was beyond — not to find them, but out of her own curiosity to the world itself. Bounded to the crown forest, she had rarely had time to go out and see what more this new world had to offer...

It would be nice if she her children grew a bit faster.

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There was something about water, wasn't there? Of all the elements that comprised the world, water had to be her most favorite. Its very nature was to flow, and coalesce, and move from one place to another with the greatest of ease. Water carved mountains the same way it created clouds; the many mysteries held within its crystalline kaleidoscope coming to light and then folding in on itself, over and over again, drops becoming puddles, becoming streams, becoming oceans.

Olive had begun her water-gazing at the small oasis nearest to The Hiraeth (which she almost considered her vacation home), and followed one of the small tributaries south. Her excitement grew as many small upwellings from an aquifer joined together and created a grand river, one that dwarfed the pale witch as she galloped along beside it, doing her best to keep her speed with the rush of the water and various crests of waves that she picked out at random. The sylph followed the path of the water nymphs for hours, until it split into several others and Olive was forced to make a decision in her first time since following this path. She chose east.

The only downside to rivers is that they created gorges through the land that could not easily be crossed. There were two sides, and Olive always found it disappointing that she could only occupy one; especially when there was another wolf on the other! Olive toed herself as close to the water's edge as her could, her pointed paws slipping in the wetted mud. "Ahoy, fellow traveler!" she cried out, and waited for a response, if one would come.

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The land of greenery, how could one not see that of a white ghost following that of a stream? She watched with a slight narrowed look, gazing carefully if it was but just an illusion, or that of the truth. Though she moved and turn, within the waters as well in an obvious look that they were not just an illusion of an unholy being. White.. It had been some time since had seen such individuals — unholy, so the Déorwine claims say to be. Though.. There was always some question toward the religion even much had occurred.

Now especially so, her own children partake in some closers. Vaguely so did the Queen remember the time her daughter @Maral had gotten lost, and she almost thought the High Elk was punishing her. She remembered, cursing on why the innocence had done nothing, and though pelt fortold what could be! She was always innocent.. Nightwalker blood that there was, and even the tainted of her own, her poor, lovely daughter, coated in but slashes of white, was all but innocent.

Yet the fortaking of such religion could not be easily swayed, but it could be easily used when she saw so fit. As so most was used, weaponized in the way of fear, to use so! Her thoughts always shifted if Celnes truly did believe or not, for not even she knows anymore.

"Hello there," despite all the internal thoughts to be, she smiled politely at the white wolf of the river, "fine day, isn't it?"

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Olive had been enamored with the water for such a lengthy, continuous amount of time that, for a moment, Olive wished to pitch herself into the current and swim to the other side; to tempt the current to sweep her away, simply so that she might say that she had crossed the mighty waters and lived to speak of it; she could say she had met the vermillion mother across the way and seen her lands. Once Olive had set paw upon the southern forests but that time had been long passed. Since then, she had been warned of this place, and told she might die should she step foot upon them, all due to the allegiances she swore. Little Haven had its enemies.

Though she was so tempted, the druid wasn't an idiot. If she were to cross, there were sections of shoreline that afforded a far easier passage. Was she so desperate to meet the wolf across the way? Yes, she thought to herself, and she shook her crown demurely, laughing at herself. "It'll be one of the last," she returned, tossing her voice across the waves. "Soon, all you southern wolves will be envied by us in the north," the woman paddled her feet, boring small holes in the muddy shore. Olive continued to wonder aloud "or, perhaps I am the only one who loathes the chill of winter."

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"You are from the north?" Though so explains such pelts — personally the Deorwine has not ventured to the tundrian regions, but like all, knew of so. Know of wolves of their origins, and for an oddity of a reason, majority tended to be white. She couldn't remember what her clan had once said about them, for usually they were not discussed till said color appears.. She seemed more like that of a fairy then of a ghost, gently going around the stream and toying at it's bay.

Faintly so making making out the bits of gray that she held — for not a true sinner to be, "My, do tell, how far may that be?"

When she thought of further to the north, momentarily to the group she held against.. Though in reality, the Queen cared little to their wolves, for they were not the ones to betray her. Only the two, who unknowingly at the time hailed as rulers of their land. For they were the ones upon her own hit list, but to Vengeance, their group as a whole is besmeeched as villians, and traitors of so. It was a wonder if she ever met someone that affiliated with them, or even ever again, to see the eyes of those who left alongside them.. Momentarily a talk with Tavra, though ended with even more scorn to be.

What other tales, would those heathens share about her? She lay by the bank, paws peacefully crossed while looking at the other with but a curled smile.

"Winter is the death for those not prepared, but I would you and I are so."

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Olive had no idea the vicissitude of information the woman-across-the-way was processing as she interacted with the white-laden-woman. Olive assumed (perhaps far too simply) that the brown-haired woman approached this interaction as she did: with an atrophied sense of pre-disposition, and simple curiosity for another soul, this one taken shape as a wolf. In this way, they might as well be kin — no?

"We live not as far as the tundra;" the druid called out, "Several days north of here, in a land of endless grasses." The plains did not have the vegetation necessary to create any climate other than dry. Thus, it could not hold onto the warmth of summer and spring, and yielded easily to the frigidity of the late year. In places, the Plains might as be as cold as the mountains, albeit without the precipitation. "Though my fur is white, I am not quite built for snow," she expressed heartily, unintentionally commenting on the woman's innermost thoughts. "I do find hunting becomes far easier." There was that one small sliver of light, anyhow.

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Curious, she wondered, if they knew of those beyond.. Vaguely knowing from @Tavra that they landed somewhere around there, and whether continued staying together or not to create a pack.. They were somewhere within the plains. An easy deduction, for where else could they go? Especially not the temperate where Nightwalkers and Elkshire prowl through the woods, and yet wondered, why not not the mountains itself? Perhaps it was due others previous exploration of so, and he went back to the land. A curiosity, if she knew them.

All the unholy came together in one land, she mused silently. Was it but the way of the world, the High Elk choosing so? Even then what sins have committed to be sent to such a land? She thought of fields, and the doe's range that was right near her home.. To see an endless sorts of it — as that a blessing of a curse?

"It seems we are opposites," she chuckled with a slight muse. For that of a Déorwine she was blessed in all ways that would be — and before her was the opposite of that religion. ... Yet couldn't see such a dainty woman commit any sins, and internally was uncomfortable thinking how her own daughter, so innocent in the world.. Was but a cursed way. 

Maybe all this was a sign — for her to finally warp the religion that deemed so many unfit. 

Ah, of course though, not entirely the way one might think. For in the end all that who betrayed her — carried white pelts.

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I apologize for the wait!

---

Olive laughed too, at the woman's small joke — they were, in both color of their coats and the side of the river they occupied. "So it seems," she beamed; but when the urbane woman didn't say anything else, Olive felt the desire to not let the conversation close. Not yet, not after she had been following the rush of the water nymphs for so long, and had first seen another in such a long time.

Was Olive a little starved for female companionship these days? Certainly. Did this drive her to want to do what she did next? Partially — it was that, and the fact that the water still called to her, and at this moment, truly seemed to call for her to cross it. Without much forethought, the little ashen witch lashed her tail and picked up a forepaw, glancing out over the water with a suspicious glint in her eye. "I dare say, I might just attempt to ford this river," she suggested.

Then she asked, "What says you?" incase that was a little too much commitment to this interaction for the stranger. But clearly the universe wanted them to meet, and would't that be far easier if they we're speaking over the din of rushing water? What was once her guide was now her impediment, but Olive welcomed the chance to swim, as well as make a new friend.

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"I would not mind company on this side, and would welcome you." She seemed well-versed compare to the more barbaric white-sinned stained wolves she had met. Though the amount of pure-coats she could count on her paw were not that many, and the very few she truly talked to were wretched in all ways to be. Not to mention some simply slashed into the colors as well were far more ripe to sin then some of coats..

The Queen took her chance, more curious about the unholy woman and her ways. A dainty one, like a wisp by the stream that almost seemed she would disappear like the taled fairies. Would it be good, or bad luck? She would hold caution though — as the High Elk determined, there was signs to listen to.

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With her offer of company heartily accepted, Olive could not help the smile which spread across her maw like honey, and the buzz of prana the rang through her tail and feet. She paddled her paws into the muddy, molten shores of the river and switched her focus from that of the arboreal queen, to that of the mystical river itself. It was not a great, rushing thing that would sweep her away in an instant; this part of the river, as it ran slow rivulets through the transition from Plains to Forest, was shallow and eddied in places that made passage possible. If anything, it was only a few feet in its deepest pockets.

Wordlessly, the pale prophet paced at the water's edge as if rallying up courage, or waiting for the right moment — then she diverted her pacing into the waters and she continued until the height of the river drank in her paws, her ankles, her forearms — then the methodical lapping of the river rocked against the flesh of her shoulder and the woman thrust her chin and nose forward, over the waters, marveling at the coolness of the water as it awakened some places in her body, and cushioned others with support. It didn't take long for the paddling of her feet to bring her to the other side, never truly having left the sediment bottom to swim.

When the water level began to lessen and the white ghost emerged from the waters, she felt utterly refreshed in both mind and body. Winded from the exertion of battling the current, she hauled deep, heavy breaths into her lungs and paused to regain her composure. Offering a slight smirk to the woman, the drenched woman dripped shamelessly into a large puddle that gathered beneath her.

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The water looked deeper then she expected, watching the sprite come forth and swim through it's banks. She couldn't say that part was rather, elegant, though watching her fur glide along was like that of an Ophelia painting, a dearest of beauty — though gracefulness lacked. She wondered if the other would fall through, though managed to capture the spirit of swimming and came through the banks, where the Queen's smile welcomed her so. To the land she arrived, away from the plains and a touch to the temperate region ; though imagine she would not stay, and a question to how long.

"Do you need help?" A tongue to offer to clean onself up, as Celnes offered so. A holy tongue touching the sinful — and yet a touch of where it simply felt.. A drawing to, where the other remained in the messy droplets and any dirt that was caught into the stream. A pleasant day to groom, and gossip ; and how she wished to have that within the crown as well. Only politics, remained at Elkshire, and comfort, was always found elsehwhere out of her realm.

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Olive wasn't entirely sure what to expect when she had crossed to the other side; there was a small, very small, part of her that had suspected that the rust-colored queen was a lure, a temptation of the fates, like a siren luring her into danger. Perhaps it was simply ideas that had been instilled in her from her then-leaders, outlaws in this temperate land — but she had also seen it herself, in the eyes of that bloodthirsty Nightwalker. If this was temptation, then the waif had walked right into her unwitting trap...

But at least temptation was soft and sweet, and desired to help her clean herself. Olive found that her resistance to such an idea, if any existed in the first place, melted easily. "Please," she acquiesced, leaning forward so much so that she unknowingly took a step or two in order to accommodate for her shifting weight. "May the warmth of your friendship stave off a chill," she giggled in jest, but with a gleam in her eye that was all-too-serious.

Receiving whatever ministrations the woman had to give, Olive aimed to learn more about the siren who had so entrapped her. "You have children?" she posited poignantly, as the aroma of childhood was like a heady cloud encircling the packwolf.

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A grooming of ladies, polar opposites in color and within life itself. One in dedication to her throne, and blasphemy on wielding that of the God to her desires — while beseeching those around. The other but a spellsinger, sacrificed to her own and beloved by the world itself, as Célnes felt to be true. It brought a quiet laugh in thought, silent from her smile to think anyone would see if she were to be grooming one so against her religion — and yet there wasn't a disgust that brought forth, but like a peace.. Polar opposite of the Nightwalker man, the second-command that was everything that the religion detested, and she too, said he was cursed..

Ah, to love and curse her religion, as so the Queen of Elkshire would always be, through and throw between what she presents and how she was ; a curse perhaps, from the High Elk himself for all that she sinned. There was so much to say and think, for her dislike to one and her liking of the one before her — a sad fate, for a religion that she gradually been twisting to her own liking. Amusing thoughts swirling as her tongue glided against the white pelt, dripped in the smallest of grays. Lapping the wetness and gunk from the river itself ; and yet surprising was more clean that suspected, just wet.

Célnes nodded, "I was blessed with eight, they grown enough to start an independence," as she slipped back into grooming the other.

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Olive found herself in leisurely repose as she received the warmth and touch of another, leaning into the touch of the woman almost as if she were a lover and this were flirtation; certainly there was that air to it, as was most thing sensual and lovely, but Olive received the woman's presence with no expectations. That was the difference between women and men, she found. Women could easily control themselves, while men were voracious and always craved more, more, more.

Eight pups was quite a feat, though it was no surprise given the vitality of the roan stateswoman. Children grew and cycles churned onwards, and it was refreshing to find another (like she) who did not belabor it so. With the other's mouth greatly occupied with the act of grooming, Olive took it on herself to supply conversation. "I have been made a mother many times," she continued, after appropriately nodding and smiling at the Queen's admission. "but the Gods have yet to bless me in this lifetime." There was an air of hopefulness to her voice, knowing this calling to be writ deep in her strand of her DNA. Then she chuffed at an inner joke, which she quickly divulged to the other woman.

"Perhaps it's just a matter of finding the right man," she laughed, knowing this to be far from the truth. A knight in shining armor was never Olive's MO. She was a midwife, so even if she never bore a child in this life, she knew she would experience it many times through the trials of other women. That was where her self-assuredness came from. Anyways, now that they were broaching an exchange of personal information, the sylph supposed her friend was due an introduction.

"I'm Olive," she intimated, lifting an eyebrow at the chocolate-dipped woman, leaving an opening for the woman's own exchange of moniker.

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"Men can always be changed, but our children last for an eternity ; it is up to us to find who is suitable to sire." She let a slight chuckle, a narrowed look while thinking of her choice. Wasn't the most.. Pleasant of nights, especially for her first time — but the most primal of pickings when he was the leader of a neighborhood pack, giving a few strong mixings to her litter. Blessed in the beloved brown as well, there was not too many males she could find at the time that would provide such easy ways, and without a meddling interference. But in the end, she couldn't deny that she did regret it, for the smell had haunted it for.. Quite some time.

"I'm sure they're fighting over you." Her voice sounded in a jest but within an honesty ; for men always appreciated the dainty light woman, that hinted in femininity. The more angelic in appearance, the more dominating that they are. A desire to protect or to conquer, it always arises into the fickle nature of males.

"I am Celnes Deorwine, a pleasure, Olive."

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If you want to close up, that's fine by me! I'm happy this thread happened <3

---

This was perhaps the first time that Olive, in this life, realized that she alone held what she needed to become a mother, and rear pups — it was her goddess-given right, and a male was only needed for but a moment in time. The support of a pack made this far easier, but it wasn't impossible to make it on one's own. She had, perhaps, been far too influenced by romantic tales of pups solely being borne of love; but here and now she realized that this assumption had been without reason, and had never truly been demonstrated for her by her parents, or other close familial relations.

Olive nodded along as the other woman spoke, then she laughed at her compliment, wishing it to be true. She thought of Tiberius for a moment, but the dove had not encountered the man again after her first foray into the mountains, and fully believed him to be a fun part of her very-recent past; a soul she would likely never encounter again. This land was devoid of passions, it seemed; it was times like these that Olive was happy that she was nearly mated to her gods, instead of mere mortals.

Her thin pelt nearly tried at the behest of Celnes's tongue and the gentle warmth of the sun, Olive looked down at herself, admiring the other's handiwork, and she beamed as she turned to face affront the other woman, offering her the same congenialities that she had just received, with a pink and eager tongue.

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i hope they meet again LMAO, the only light wolf celnes liked

---

Time would pass with the tranquility of the forest within the musical distance. A grooming between ladies, both whom became mothers at one point in their life, and gained an insight more to the world around. Yet a difference, would always held to do the two.. For the unknowing they belonged to rival packs, where the blood ran thick with black vengeance, but it seemed that secret would never see the light of day — or the mystery, if they'd meet again.

For the Queen of Elkshire, who held bigotry and pettiness, even she could not help but find a love toward this sprite, a calmness that brought an ease to her heart as she was treated by not a Deorwine, a noble, a political enemy, or in general, a wolf to be loathed.. It felt peaceful, to be treated that of another woman, and the wish she could find such a companion within her pack, and alas, she always treated everyone with a paw step away in fear more betrayal would come to her side.

A grooming between the two, before time was to bid farewell.

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