The dormant daughter of the silver moon,

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When came to the land the Wayfarers once claimed, it was empty. Though scents wandered in different directions, in a settling, that all left within their own way. A peace of mind, for the abandonment she did — and perhaps a one day to meet the brothers in particular. She was thankful, for @Rosencrantz and @Guildenstern who brought a comfort to this new realm that she was so wary of. One that she longed for so much, and only wished — she did better. Within her own view, she knew she was but a selfish desire, to save some in the sacrifice of others ; and admitted, it was not right.

Reflecting, upon herself, that she pushed too hard to bring certain moments where normally could not be. Her daughter, lovely @Liliana who went to find her own place within the world, and with the maidens blessing. A prayer, to @Ivar, as she could only hope that the boy was alright within his own travels. He was strong and foolhardy, unknown of his tense moments between the brothers and himself. She hoped as well, @Annika and her young was well-safe. Perhaps the white knight, was travelling with. If she were to meet again, Miriam would apologize.

Within a new light of tranquility, the fear that always seemed to come had left. Sound in body and soul.. Did she feel the breeze go through her pelt as she stood upon the hill ; wanderlust always within her soul as a next adventure would soon unfold.

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He'd been following an array of scents for a while now but each time the bear thought he'd gotten close to the source, it would overlap with a similar, yet distant, aroma. Despite having his blackened nose to the sharp rocky floor, the prey the behemoth sought kept vanishing into thin air with more questions of its whereabouts confusing his exhausted head. A rodent of sorts, one very good at hiding in the crevices of walls or up high in the barren trees. Each place his pale eyes looked, it was as if he'd missed the critter by a second. Alas, there was a reason he was no hunter. Paws this size didn't always move the quietest in these parts and especially not since he woke up a few days prior. There was an ache growing around his blue temples and every so often, Drago found himself pausing to close his eyes and take a deep breath. It wasn't uncommon for the foreigner to get such a pain, but this was quickly onset. Of course he would look over his vitals first, his surroundings too - whether it was day or night. You get the gist. 

The evaluation this time wasn't hard, he hadn't eaten since he'd awoken on the stone hills. Nor had he found a spring to drink from and being so out of his depth, navigation wasn't going to help him at all either. By night he found himself too exhausted to look to the stars and in the day, he awoke long after dawn and fell asleep long before dusk. It was unusual for the water fearing beast to be struggling so much but he was also far too numb to really realise the prominence of his actions upon himself. 

Clammy lips lapped together as Drahomír turned his gaze up the hill he'd yet to climb. Haunches lowered and his back slumped with a heavy exhale, already ready to quit for the day but something kept him on at least two of his feet, raised to watch the world go by. Long, slow breaths were drawn into the pair of horse lungs he possessed and so too did the scents the wind carried. Not many were of interest but occasionally one would make the obsidian snout wrinkle as the blue boy savoured it. A shadow danced like a mirage at the summit and his eyes could only watch. 

A saviour? He could only hope. He was starting to become the thing he despised. He'd become desperate; any directions would be welcome at that moment in time.

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Her ears swerved, and nose twitching as she turned to the approach of a man. Unknown in nature, and couldn't deny there was some disappointment is not someone familiar, like the three males ujishe thought. He was different, though just as large as any of the men she met.. Rather he was like of ice and far, tones of cooling and yet rip like the hot sun.

Her head tilted at him in question, for he seemed to be approaching her. Yet Miriam didn't know him, but at the very least he didn't look hostile.. Just a bit lost. Was he too but a wandering soul? It was pleasant to meet others that held a more nomadic life, for surely this land had many packs with quite a few amount of wolves. She didn't smell any upon him.

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Here he was once more in a strange place but this time, Drago was not washed up and weak. In his confusion, and disorientation, the behemoth felt stupid and useless but the frustration was something he continued to take out upon himself even as he stood watching the divine standing above him on the hill. Would there be a language barrier? He seemed to be struggling to find the words so instead of gaping like a fish, he kept his lips sealed. What could he say when not even Minerva was there to translate for him? Sure, he seemed to have progressed in the latest months but now it seemed like a fog was keeping such knowledge at the back of his mind. He'd reverted to his old ways, his english lost. 

With his chin tilting, he looked to her questioningly, curious if she would read his motions. The man of ice and fire was confused how to translate his words into motions so he just simply looked around, trying to appear lost. It wasn't the most imaginative method but as he lifted his cool gaze back to her, he fumbled around trying to find the perfect word in his dictionary of frozen words. 

"L-" he stumbled like a child,

"Lost."

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