The Sun, The Moon, The Stars

 A withered form along the sea of green, a blight upon eyes that sought to greet. Immeasurably quiet, but not in trepidation; a smallest form among the population.
Ivory crown dipped in black, she wrought her head above the tracks. Trodden and bare, yet so overwhelmingly there, she chose to sway among the verdier.

Like a nightingale; so broken and frail— an unwavering form hovered the un-suspecting vale.

✧ @Faust

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Faust was clouded, his mind perplexed at the uncertainties his grounds held. It was here when he smelled a scent foreign to him. Something that he hadn't yet had the pleasure to indulge in. It perplexed him— this scent. It was female, but oddly...yeasty.

Hmm.

Faust's feet carried him through his territory, the Velarion stench becoming stronger day by day.

His eye latched onto the figure. A small, malnourished wolf. At least to his standard. "Are you alright?"

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A voice pulled her attention, it's deep verbrato akin to that of distant thunder; dark and crushing yet somewhat contained within the indestructive presence that was male— and one that no doubt owned this land judging by the cedar-rosen scent recently laid bare.

Turning, she would meet him—this male, with an unseeing gaze. Pale glassy eyes distant as the storm itself. Calm, cool—rain; just as contained, perhaps more than his own. They would look up to him, a facet of which no emotion was displayed-wether that was by choice or not would be unknown as her reason here.

But a single offering hung beneath her lips; an ivy lily's ladder still clinging to life despite it's disconnected edge. She would tumble it against her tongue, savoring the stem's resilence before approaching the precipiced indivudal. No words would be shed in conjecture to his question yet it would have an answer, though one that was not verbal.

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Faust was confused. He didn't get it. Maybe he was an idiot of sorts, but he really didn't get it. This woman, small and frail as she may be, offered him no sustenance of a morsel nor time of day. Her eyes had been thickly clouded with frames of white, and he wasn't all that sure she could see him.

He assumed she was okay. He supposed that she looked fine. There was no evidence of blood. No evidence of anything...really. She simply sat there on Velaris lands, waiting, looking for something that he wasn't quite sure if she had found.

"What's your name, byka vōljes?" His question hung in the air just as she had. Floating. Not entirely sure if he was in front of her.

Faust waited patiently, taking another gallant step forward. His head lowered slightly, a sign that he was no threat to her.

---

byka vōljes — little crow

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A single step was taken on this he-wolf's part, it's verberance shaking the ground below their pads, disurbing the silence that laid stagnant between them in this realm of uncertainty. In part she would mirror it of her own nimble way; a slender, feminine leg placed outwards followed by the sway of her ichor body. But where this male stopped, the doe continued forward. 

Her rosey nose twitched instincively, inhaling his very scent as if it was a test to his alignment. It filled her—surrounded her like a cedar forest who sought to pull her inwards to his protective cover. She did not care if this stranger was dangerous. She did not care what he would—could do. 

She approached him ever so slowly, white mantle raising to meet his lowered head with a certain gentleness as if scared he would flutter away from her sights. The sprig of lily would twirl then—its petals brushing against her cheek and no doubt, his own. It's pollen smearing against fur as she tucked it, if allowed, by the ends of fur partway between his forehead and ear. 

A smile would then be offered. Small, but there.

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Faust wasn't sure what to do when the wolf of stark night and equally moonlit face approached him. It was if she had no fear at all. Faust watched her through hooded eyes, a deadly stare. He was confused, but his face didn't show it.

She reached him. Didn't say a word. In fact, she avoided saying as much and instead twirled and swirled and suddenly there had been a lily between his ear and fur. The feeling had been weird, a motion that he did not know. He glanced up towards it, seeing the white petals from the corner of his eye.

"Pretty." Is all he had said, letting his gaze linger on it a bit longer. He looked back to her, then, wondering what her intentions were. He would try a different tactic of approach.

"Don't speak?"

---

byka vōljes — little crow

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She watched intently at his reaction, waiting—waiting for it as if it meant everything. And though it was small, that one word was all she needed before feeling heat flood across her cheeks. It was warm- too warm, and she wondered if perhaps this he-wolf could see the rosy hue pooling beneath her surface of white.
She couldn't help but look away shyly at that, the blank placet cracking as muscles pushed upon the edges of her eyes; The first emotion she had shared with him bashfully.
But she would turn back quicklly in regards to his question, eyes opening just a tad in surprise before answering with a shake of her head.

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The heat that rose to her cheeks was obvious against the white fur of her face. Faust hadn't intended to gauge such a reaction from her, but it bolstered his pride nonetheless. At the end of the day he was a man, and the receptiveness of a woman would drive him mad.

By her bashful expression, the glancing away with an awkward twist, he knew certain then that it took only a mere word to get a rise out of her. It was silly. Silly the way that she had reacted to him. A low grumble left his throat. An appraisal of her behavior; her actions.

She shook her head in response. Faust nodded once, understanding. He would adjust his questions. "You are alone?"

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Alone?

The doe gave a slow shake of her head at the male's question. She was never alone when she had the stars.

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Faust had to admit. At this point he was confused. He took a moment to look at their surroundings— the valley had been empty, albeit for her and himself.

She, too, looked confused. Welcome to the party.

"No?" He would repeat, a low hum leaving his chest. "Do you have a pack?"

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Another shake would be offered to this man's question.
No—no she didn't.

A gentle limb would be brought up in addition, her paws lightly touching the males chest where his heart would ​​​​ lay. And to her surprise it did. The man, for all the stone facade he refracted outward, deep below he was just the same as her. Flesh—blood. Beating steadily beneath the flesh and fur. 

She wanted to know if he too didn't have a pack.

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Good. He got an honest answer out of her. She didn't belong anywhere. This moment of silence, of solitude between them could lead to something much greater. Faust didn't know exactly what it would be, but he was willing to explore it.

Her paw came out to touch the cavern of his chest. He lay still, unmoving as she made the gesture. Where she touched particularly had been where his heart was. Faust wondered what she meant.

"You may take refuge here if you wish," Faust offered. "This land is mine. The Vale. You are welcome to stay amongst us, and the stars."

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A nod, a smile—such things were becoming accustomary between him and her.
She had questions, of course. But did not give any inclination towards such thing in her appearence. She would instead choose to follow the man whever he drifted, never being far off from where he was.

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He was pleased with her reaction. A simple nod is all that it took for the titan to stand proudly. It was satisfying when others simply listened. It made his day a helluva lot easier than it would be on the usual basis.

"Come, byka vōljes," He gestured her to follow him with his head, a signal as he began to pivot on his hind leg. He turned towards the deeper parts of the Vale— the forests that were shrouded with darkness, the mountains with sharp spikes. "There is much for you to learn—"

The titan gave a soft chuckle. "You can call me Faust." And he led this dark woman back into the heart of the Vale, darkness enveloping them as they walked. If she had asked questions, he would answer, but he would understand her silence. He wouldn't complain.

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