that's how you get the girl

@Olive !

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Rannoch was intrigued by the bison that inhabited the plains. They were massive creatures with sharp horns, and he'd never seen anything like them. From what he observed in the distance, they were docile creatures, but something told him not to venture closer. After all, it'd be rude of him to interrupt their meal. They were grazing on the water's edge, getting their fill before moving on. He was content to watch them; if they were to claim land within the plains, Rannoch wanted to learn all that he could about all the creatures that lived here.

There was no wind today, and it was sunny, but the air was crisp. In Rannoch's opinion, it was perfect weather. He was happy.

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Olive was prepping for her departure from the plains, and as she was wont to do, the woman was becoming nostalgic. In this state, she was prone to notice the things of this area that she had never truly paid any mind to, or the things she hadn't duly appreciated. In fact, from this new perspective, the plains itself seemed to take on a new life itself. Suddenly, there was more wolfscent amongst the grasses. Big, giant herds of bison — the likes of whom she had only seen from afar — moved in close to the watering hole. The chill riding on the wind gave her endless energy. Whatever veil had prevented her from fully appreciating the lands in which she lived, was miraculously lifted. Funny how these things only happened once she made the decision to move on.

Olive combed through the landscape, eager to see and intake all that she could in the time she had left. The sylph discovered nothing new, but it was akin to running back and taking a mental photo of something she didn't want to forget. Olive was certain she'd be back, right?

In her many moons, how many times had she said that? how many times had she actually been back to the places she promised? The pale fae laughed to herself, circling back around to the lake that had provided the backdrop to so many of her interactions. It was occupied by wandering bison, replenishing their waters before dolefully groaning onward, unafraid of the waifish she-wolf that crept to the water's edge and shared their space.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Olive noticed that she wasn't alone. "You're a new one around here," she thought aloud, surprised that she found someone here besides the wandering Daighre.

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Rannoch spotted a figure in the distance and watched as she combed through the plains. He perked, intrigued by the stranger, as she was the first stranger he had run into since leaving the tundra. She drew closer and eventually settled upon the lake's shore. 

"You're a new one around here," Olive said, breaking the silence. Rannoch smiled, his tail brushing the ground. "I am," he confirmed with a smile. "I've only been here a few days. Looking for a new home in the area." 

Curious, he wondered, "Do you live around here?" Rannoch thought he could smell a pack on her coat, but he wanted to confirm before assuming; jumping to conclusions had not benefitted him when he was in the tundra.

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He smiled at her, the sight of which drew Olive in a pace or two closer, her nose jutting out as if she were a moth to a flame. There was something about this wolf that struck her, resonating deeply on a subtle level of her existence. Olive was well aware that this happened from time to time, with wolves and other beings at random, and the spellsinger had no more explanation for it than she had for anything else in her life. Why did she like the foods she like? Why might she think something beautiful, which another might think it ugly? Why did the earth turn cold, then hot, then cold, then hot, in endless succession?

So, in regards to the question of why did she feel a pull towards some, and not others? Only the Gods truly knew, though Olive had a good guess it had something to do with her past lives, ancestry, karma and those faceless, nameless wolves who constantly visited her in her dreams. The sylph pulled her head back, resuming a normal stature, aware that she had been lost in thought — and wondered if perhaps he had gotten lost, too.

Olive returned his smile with one of her own. "Aye, seeking to join a home, or settle a new one?" she questioned to clarify his intentions, all-too-happy to point him towards Little Haven who was suddenly about to find them without three able-bodied hunters. Her instinctive resonance with the man immediately told her that he was not the type to follow; he was the type to lead. "You'll find this watering hole gets competitive," she advised him, noting this to be the sole law of the Plainlands. "It's better if it remains communal." At this point, the pale woman felt a type of nostalgic kinship with the barren lands, and she wanted to ensure that she was leaving it in capable, fair hands.

When asked if she lived here, she responded with a nod. "I do," she acquiesced. But not for long, she thought silently to herself.

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Rannoch remained silent as Olive approached, noticing that he seemed to recognize her. Although Rannoch had not met her since waking up, he felt like he knew her somehow, and he studied her face as they both fell into a thoughtful and prolonged silence. Thankfully, she was able to snap him out of his thoughts and back into reality. 

"Settle a new one," he answered, motioning over his shoulder with a wave of his snout. "When I woke up here, I met some other wolves who had also woken up near me, and we decided to stick together," at this point, Rannoch assumed that everybody had woken up here.  When she mentioned Watering Hole, he grinned. "I don't think I could compete with those big boys over there," he said regarding the nearby buffalo. 

Olive confirmed that she lived here, and he nodded, feeling his next question rise in his throat like word vomit. "I'm sorry if this is blunt and weird ... but ... do I know you?"

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Olive laughed and tossed her head as he mentioned possibly competing with the bison who flooded the plains, which was funny in its own right because there was no actual way wolfkind could compete with the bison, if they even desired the same resources at all. Clearly, large ungulates and wolves could coexist, as evinced by her and Rannoch sharing water and space with the last roving bison -- but if she spoke the truth, she could have her lights stamped out by one in a moment, and the presence of any predator in a group larger than 'two' would pitch the herds into a nervous malaise. It was an uneasy balance, and right now, it existed.

Her attention was drawn from the ecology of plains-life back to the nameless man, his coat a mess of grays and whites, as he introduced his not-so-foreign idea. The bright smile upon her maw persisted. "Blunt and weird?" she questioned. "Believe it or not, but those are the sole qualities I seek in new friends." A small part of this was a joke, but a much larger part was the truth. Loyalty, a strong physicality, kindness and cunningness were not qualities she valued and sought in herself, and she did not highly value them in others, either. But, more importantly, the second part of his question:

"It is quite possible," she shook her head, unable to deny the resonance she felt with this particular stranger. It was more than being the only nice soul she had encountered at the watering hole ever. At his behest, she was able to label the resonance as 'subtle recognition.' With sudden interest, the sylph stepped closer. "Look into my eyes, they are the windows to the soul." she instructed him kindly, in her own blunt-and-weird manner.

"What's your name?"

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Olive's reply had put Rannoch at ease, and his tail swept through the dry grass behind him. "I'm glad," he replied, chuckling. "They're qualities that have helped me make most of my friends here." It wasn't a lie; he had been blunt in most of his interactions—especially about the confusion of his awakening. 

She then instructed him to look into her eyes, and he quickly obliged. Rannoch was swiftly allured; there was something about her green eyes that caused his stomach to twist uncomfortably and for a blush to burn underneath his pale cheeks. 

"I'm Rannoch," he replied, a little unsteady at first. "What is your name?"

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Olive was always nonplussed whenever another indulged in her curiosities and strange requests. Rannoch conceded quickly and collected his gaze to match her own. In his robin's egg blue eyes, she sought more than familiarity. She looked for something that might lay more latent, perhaps another lifetime; or even a message, a portend, that was meant for this man and delivered through her lips alone.

What she found was a swirling, mystifying confusion that denoted neither connection nor severance. There was a dull ringing of that same resonance she felt from before, but it was clearly something deeper, and not so easily defined through a simple glance. The woman bit her lip, holding the silence for a moment longer, before letting it go with a complete exhale. "I'm Olive," the sylph return his introduction, regaining her focus on him as a whole with a flutter of dark lashes.

"I daresay, I do think we know each other," Olive completed her simple assessment, with a wag of the tail. Did she need to look him deeply in the eye to know this? No; all beings were familiar in one incarnate form or another, and she took the mist in his gaze to be the confusion of many, many lifetimes of bumping into one another, and doing this same dance all over again. "But not from this life, certainly." she amended, a simpering smile spreading across her maw. "I would remember meeting you."

and she did, in a way; but at the same time, she didn't. This was one of the mysteries of the universe that she no longer battled with. Instead, she simply enjoyed the fruits of finding familiarity in strangers' souls.

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