Now all I do is feel afraid,

She stepped to the Cloudrest, where the peaks surrounded by the clouds of the sky, but once she made it to it's peaks, she was granted the beauty of the full-moon and sky full of sparkling stars. As a wolf, one could not help but feel a wanting toward it, a calling and something that felt like peace. She lifted to one of the peaks, sitting on her hunches, as ocean-eyes gazed to the sky.. Not helping it, where Vendrussel lifted her snout and howled to the skies.

@Antares

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While Shiroshika sequestered away in the Pass, guarding their peace carefully, life went on beyond--and a lot changed. Word had it that a pack had taken up the Everfrost proper... which would hopefully further deter tiger activity, if they were worth any mettle. The mountains also seemed to have more wolf traffic around them than he remembered in passing before. Who knew what else was brewing beside that.

But, he mainly wanted to confirm something selfish and it pressed his wandering routes off towards the northern reaches of the ranges. He passed undisturbed, and night deepened comfortably around him.

Again, the dark samurai found Cloudrest abandoned. The sotaherra's claim seemed absent even as he began to ascend. As well as he could tell from here, still low on its shrouded foothills, her presence had faded entirely. Pensive in the whole truth of this (and maybe still hoping for a confirmation otherwise), he contemplated grief, or worry. Perhaps she had simply moved on and not some unluckier fate.

Distracted suddenly by the howl that was not at all what he expected, he looked onward, upward. Past the trees and towards the heavy moon above. He wanted to say he knew that voice, and it was with enough certainty for him to track on with it. She might be more interesting than chasing game right now. It had been only a chance of a meeting before... Even if he was mistaken, then so be it. He might be able to find out what happened to the pack here, if anything else.

Though he hesitated, he raised his own howl to answer back--to say he was here too, that he wanted to see more--and her while they were both here again by chance. His voice did not have the melody like the dragon's, but intent remained strong and true: it was a good night, the moon beautiful and the mountain compelling. After, he took off to track her trail, very able to appreciate that they were both drawn here once more.

Soon, he would find her, surfacing from the dark and panting--but overall, relatively pleased with his timing.

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Vendrussel did not mean for her call to attract another, as she only was singing to moon. A calling of sorts, as her voice hung high to the sky as she continued onwards, the motion and primal feeling wolves get to so. As it continued on with the faint drawing of so, sometimes a lyric would come to mind but she did not follow the words. Only wishing but the small motions of — but surprisingly, someone else during her howls responded.

She could hear his in the distance, and with so lightly did her own draw out to a non-existence, as her head turned toward the direction of the other. She started to move, a howl that wanted to meet her? It was a wonder who it was, although something about as she trailed the scent in the distance, was familiar — Vendrussel couldn't pinpoint it yet, for it had been a while. She was getting closer to who it was.

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He didn't know this mountainside as intimately as some others, but it still answered to a certain type of flow; Antares knew the kind and satisfaction was in his path, eager over ground that treated him well. The ranging samurai tipped his ears up as he went, wondering if there would be more to be said--or if her song had any other detail than what even he could perceive on the night of heavy moon. But all the while, he was closing in nose first.

In time, he found her--and his head perked up seeing someone else on the mountainside moving along, roughly heading his direction sooner than the wind had him guessing. The Ostrega hiked over, and had to confirm it was her by the unmistakable scent of seaside while he made himself known with this. A lot of time had passed, their worlds all tied up elsewhere. “Hey,” he panted as he slowed up. Antares still didn't expect to see a Dragonford wolf here at all, let alone one he had met once before. He had come sniffing for lingering traces of the pack that had lived here beneath the sotaherra but this was fine too. “Your song was nice--which I hope I didn't interrupt.” His tail flicked low, catching his breath still, too surprised to see a halfway familiar face so many moons later that he had to figure out where to begin again exactly.

“It's been a while,” obviously.

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A familial one, a man who danced within the nights and coated by an inky-abyss and hailed with a dark blue. His scent was unchanging, although she would note the familial ic-touch was changed with a more alpine hue, but still the familial Shiroshika scent he was from. How long had it been, she wondered, a year about? A year since she begun Dragonford, and a year since the man remained within his pack ; she would hope he achieved a worthy-rank of his loyalties tied to them, "It is fine," her shoulder bumped his as she smiled, friendly in the matter, "it felt a good day to call to the moon." Her tail swished, as she then settled on her hunches.

"It has. How have you been?"

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She eased away some of his worry that he had invaded already, and all too easily, he nodded. It was a good day to call to the moon, which was a worthwhile cause for a beautiful song. He felt his expression soften further, and a smirk grow more genuine as he settled a bit. “It is,” he agreed, for always, the celestial body would have a particular place in his heart and always would he honor that when it reminded him of his family, his moonspearian birthplace.

How has he been? He sighs first. There was no easy way to summarize the last year. “Busy.” Restless is somewhere on his mind for today, and perhaps why he's out wandering in the first place. “The pack has kept me awfully busy,” he admitted; it was one thing after another and he was no stranger to making it worse when he could help it. “Tigers, good and bad. Moving, allies to honor. Scouting.. to move, again soon.” He answered with a weariness about the subject. But these were still answers in a very general sense. He looked to her with quiet interest. “But how is the seaside--Dragonford?” he asked.

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"It seems my pack isn't the only one with it's troubles." A mentioning of a tiger briefly made her think both of Kuhn and Olympia ; to forces that were relatively brutal to handle. She imagined if the cub wasn't found in Dragonford, she'd be a menace in the tundra itself. A devil among the northerns and a heretic to cause blood to be spilled ; even at the moment Vendrussel has trouble keeping her at reins. She was close enough already to decide to mouth to a tiger whose affiliation always seemed to remain strange. However, he hasn't attack Vendrussel at all, and rather, hunted together.

"Troubles with the neighbors, battles that continue to rage and blood that continues to be spilled." She didn't look back at them, there was more to the story then just any.. It'd be a fools game to admit to every wolf she met of the blood she spilled, but not the battles that they started. A gaze to the night sky, where the stars shone brilliantly, twinkled but was quiet. A refusal to move or say anything to the wolves that prayed toward them.

"I would advise to avoid the coast."

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