i send an s.o.s through the storm

If he knew that others lost their memory when arriving here, he would have got down on his proverbial knees and begged for it too. The grief felt too raw at times, and the break of his heart was more than a passing annoyance. Each step he took felt heavy. Each movement pained him. He walked to the border, content to allow the members of his time in the kingdom to wash over him briefly. New Caledonia seemed so far away. He didn't know where he was now, but it didn't matter.

It wasn't the first time he slipped into another world.

Bae squinted through the pouring of rain, his steps immediately stopping before the line of scent. He knew it was pressing luck, going randomly to a border and asking to be let in. New Caledonia had been near the ocean too, but further inland. They had claimed the coast as well, even if he rarely ventured there during his time. The people he had met had long gone on with their lives. They probably forgot him by now. It had only been months though - he was being dramatic. The man bit back a sigh before raising his head.

He called for whoever lived in this dreary location. Maybe he deserved this land more than he assumed. Both matched the stormy grey of his heart. Forever at war, never at peace. A delicate balance between right and wrong.

@Vendrussel

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The lines of the Sepulcher and Brim were a murky one, as wolves could not simply mark waters and expect to remain ; always washed away, always renewed, a never ending battle on covering all that was the isle, and the beach before. What was the fine line? It was hard to say, but the waters often drifted in and out of what was the sepulcher and brim ; but on this day, as she travelled to the great edges, she could here a calling. it was unusual, it had been a long time since any directly called for a presence of herself or another.. Most simply, appeared, or was met elsewhere. Curiosity, to who this person was.

The sky was dark, the rain pattering one. She lifted a head and called back to him, saying she would come soon. A blue eye toward this sky, a knowledge that it may remain for some time as she could not see past the storms. But not great it was, pattering as it went and not even a thunder across. A day, or more? Vendrussel knew not.

Across the ghostline she went, a pathway of rocks that led from the bay to the isle itself. It looked as if she was floating across the waters itself — for swimming was not wise during these times of storm. To the beach she arrived, to see a lone man, "you called?"

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It seemed almost ironic that the storm outside matched the one within. Rain poured down from the sky in visible waves, sticking to lashes and drooping once blinked. If he had a mind to weep, surely, nobody would really notice. As it was, the rain stuck to his coat and made it slick. He appeared skinnier than he already was. The woman that appeared had a confident stance, not unlike the red-white hue of his former queen in New Caledonia a year ago. She had been suspicious of him, due to the timing he had called.

You called? the blue tone woman said. He gave a nod.

But no Cult of Tears followed him. They were dead. He even managed to kill one. He stood at the border, alone. Again. But a different border this time. Was it really 'again' then? "My name is Baelfire, milady" he got to the point, lowering his head. Knowing the whole dance, participating in it again. His mismatched eyes pointed to the sand and waves. He was unaware he had slipped into another world and not just tumbled past a continent into the next "and I had hoped to glean information about this pack." He let that hang in the air before.

He continued. "My skills..." I do not do well alone. Around them, the storm seemed to add the rumble from the sky. Bae looked up momentarily, past the woman's eyes and to the grey clouds "I am most devoted to healing, though I am not averse to patrols and hunting." It didn't matter to him what place he called 'home'. It was better than being on the road, he had learned this not long ago. He lowered his eyes - both good and bad - to the earth again. Awaiting her judgment, assessment, or questions.

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He was a very tall man, showered in the world of embers, for his pelt was of black of night, with whites and russets. But he was not a man without a story, visibly one of his eyes showed a blindness, scars coursing through it and upon his shoulder. He was an older man, even respectfully so and called her milady, a tone that reminded her faintly of @Vincent, where she row her eyes in mild amusement as a smile danced upon her face. Someone entertaining came to the borders.

"You arrive at Dragonford, a pack in the midst of battles with their neighbors," her head tossled to the mountains beside the waves, "you offer such skills.. That makes one think you wish to join. Is this still true, even if I share of our tales of strife?" She was not such a leader to openly accept someone seeking a place — many desire peace, a home to call, and away from battles they once knew.. She was not so cruel to lure them in false for bodies to claim for the cause of the ford, and wholly told what was. There was a battles, but yet a war.

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He did not blink at the prospect of war. Ah, so it came to this 'door' too. "Lady of the Dragonford" Baelfire began again, allowing a brief silence to show the woman he had been thinking. Only fools rushed into their doom after all "my skills are honed to tend to the battle weary; so they may gain a second wind." He allowed it to remain at that for a moment, allowed her to take in his words best she could.

He went on quietly. "I had trained vigorously in another pack, in another land, while they were beset by unseen forces" New Caledonia and the Tears aside "I do not blink easily at the pain, nor the suffering of friend or foe. And I will end life if it comes for me and mine with a similar intention." His words lacked a cutting malicious tune. Just weary acceptance of what life was like, hand in hand with devotion to a cause.

Who is at fault or who is wrong... Your foe may sing it is your fault. You may sing it is theirs; it does not matter to me. He kept this inside. It didn't matter whose fault it was; everyone was to blame in the end. "If you were to call me to the field of battle, I would be a healer and a fighter." And he would protect what was supposed to be protected.

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"You may call me Vendrussel, the leader of Dragonford, what shall I call you?" A new title so she heard, her tail flickered as she expressed a neutrality toward it, but inward wasn't a fan of the terms of lady or Queen that was given ; she preferred such terms as leader, head and even Alpha overall. But ah, at the point it was consistent that she shouldn't be too picky, especially if someone came to the borders, seeking a place to call their own.

"If you truly wish so, follow me into the waters. Within our ford, we test those who wish to become one of us." She did not reject this man and even expressed with a soft smile, for his trades would especially be desired. Healers were a need, and although had a young to it.. She couldn't feel right to soley rely on @Valtyr as the sole heir of the Dragonford healing.

Her paws dipped into the waters, looking back at this man of fires and charcoal.. And would soon dip into the sea into a swimming spree, directly heading before the pillars of the Leviathan, and aiming for the Dragon's Reach.

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Honestly, it was just polite to call someone 'ma'am' or 'lady' - especially if you did not know their name. Would he march up to a border, scream on it, and also piss along their land - but also going so casually 'hey you'? No. The concept of formalities was annoying but he had worked through it in New Caledonia ages ago. They had a queen, they had a king... They had nobles and others of higher rank than him. He didn't know what Dragonford was about. But he shot her a grateful look, through his singular good eye. "Baelfire."

So he would follow this Vendrussel, slipping into the waves.

His body was athletic, tuned, and toned long ago. He had no issues swimming through the storm. His blind eye sheltered most of the rain anyway. Ahead of him, there was a rocky crop. A sort of island jutting from the waves. The woman went for them immediately, and Baelfire could only keep up with her intent. "Tell me what to do." it was not commanding, but when they stopped he eyed the rocks. He had accepted a test. It was better than anticipating hostility if one was not tested, just showed up... Expecting to be accepted.

If he did this test, he would not be looked at as suspiciously. This was fine with him.

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To the top they would walk and stand upon. Through the mysterious gate that stood tall, years of ware and tear upon it and yet made no move to fall just yet. Something strange and mystical keeping it, perhaps as well as the.. Binding to one rock, to the other. She found this place enchanting, something that felt was a ritual needed and she knew just by it's gaze, it was meant to be held for the Dive. The Dragon's Reach, she would dub it quietly, as she stood at the edge and looked down to the waving waters, before back at Baelfire.

"Jump."

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"Very well." The rain battered and grew into a light storm, but it was nonetheless irksome. His short claws clacked against the rock, slipping a few times. Vendrussel led him further and stepped back, away from the edge he was to jump off of. A madness, some would say, especially in this rain. He didn't lean over and peer, though. He knew the waves were below.

Bae glanced at the sky, not one to ask any gods for help. So, he did not. He was more or less looking around, attempting to judge the right moment to leap. To his death or to success. Did not matter to him. Perhaps I am suicidal he thought wildly, walking past Vendrussel and to the edge. It'd be foolish to run and jump. He'd either smack into the woman -

Or he'd trip and fling himself off the edge, ungracefully. He was looking to make an impression here. A short breath was given, exhaling into the air in a warm cloud. He jumped, angling his body to dive into the water. It was all of a split second, it felt like anyway before his body hit the surface and submerged. The waves swallowed him up. Cold rushed to his senses.

But the silence was welcoming.

Bae floated in his mind and in the water before his lungs protested. He floundered upward, using his lanky legs to swim and kick. His face broke the surface, and he took in a controlled breath. His lungs thanked him. Blinking the water away from his good and bad eyes, he treads water quietly.

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"Welcome to Dragonford," as she saw his head emerge from the waves, the dragoness grinned at him from above. Her voice booming loudly so that he could hear, "we dub you, as the Wildfire Dragon," something about it felt suitable for this man, who etched upon his abyssal colors was like that of a wild fire. He was a well needed member of both warrior prowess and healing abilities — a sure fire use in this time of war that was needed when medics were of thin-needing — and now finally the one boy could be less depended on as the sole work-force of that task.

She ventured down to the edge, awaiting for him — where they both could venture to the official isle distances away.. The forest was humming as the wind brought forth the slapping of drizzle to her face, but smiled even-more.

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The Wildfire Dragon.

Bae lifted a brow wordlessly, though he accepted it. It seemed ranking aside, there was a system of titles. With further wordless actions, he began to swim to where Vendrussel now waited. The stretch of woodlands came into view. He felt weary after climbing, swimming, and waking in this new world. It was like someone had hit him over the skull.

But he kept going. As was his design. "Lead the way, Vendrussel." He uttered, keeping the tired tune from his vocals. Slipping out of the churning waves, Bae angled himself to the Dragonford's deeper sanctum. He didn't look back. There was nothing to look back at, anyway. Everyone was gone he had cared about. Everything is left behind.

This was supposed to be good. He found purpose again. But he couldn't help but feel the worrying pit in his stomach. As if something else would happen, and something bad. Was it just him? 

/end

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