i got some wilderness skills beneath my belt

Tafty was, alas, accustomed to waking up with mysterious new bruises and aches. Usually, this was due to sleeping on the ground, where sticks and rocks tended to poke into tender places, or in a cave while a storm howled, or in a musty old barn or decrepit wreck of a building. The life of an adventurer was seldom a glamorous one. On a handful of occasions, Tafty had woken after a fight, oozing blood and quietly thanking the gods that he had woken up at all, and praying that Henri wouldn't force some disgusting new potion down his throat.

This time, he wasn't sure what had happened. His head ached, and his thoughts felt foggy, but that was fairly typical of being wolf-shaped. Beyond that, Tafty felt...fine. Yes. Fine. The same couldn't be said for the rest of his companions, who seemed to have vanished.

Waking alone in the middle of the dim, glowing woods, with no sign of his friends, his weapons, or his clothes, did not seem like a good sign. Tafty considered himself something of an expert when it came to dim, glowing woods, these being the favorite haunts of many druids, but he didn't recognize this particular forest.

The wolf began to trot along, hoping that in time he’d come across something familiar. Nothing immediately presented itself, but it wasn’t long before he came across a scent—another wolf. Hopefully one that wasn’t too fussed about a strange wolf in its territory. Hopefully (please!) another druid, though Tafty doubted he’d be that lucky.

“Hello?” Tafty called, drawing nearer to the source of that scent. “Anyone there? I’m a bit lost.”

---

@crowloft
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After encountering Beck on the frozen lake, Merel had headed back north again. She’d picked up the trail once more—indeed, for whatever reason, all tracks seemed to stop to the south. She could not even find her own footprints past a certain point.

It was eerie.

Still, she had other things to ponder at the moment. More important things. Her limbs had started to grow sore from wandering, and so she had decided to take a rest in the woodlands she was passing through. The dim, dappled light would disguise her pelt well, and the glowing mushrooms were oddly soothing to watch. She lay down under the boughs of a low-branching poplar, and let herself drift off to sleep.

She was awoken by the sound of a voice.

Merel perked up at once, heart thumping. After taking a moment to collect her wits about her, she slowly shifted to a half-crouch and peered through the leaves. Another wolf—one whose grayish-brown fur looked rather pale in the darkness. He was evidently disoriented.

Reminded of her encounter with Yvaine, Merel decided to reveal herself.

She stood up and strode out of the undergrowth, shaking a few leaves from her fur. She regarded him carefully; he was tall, though not excessively so. He smelled unusual, too. Not bad, just different. Perhaps she was just imagining it. These woods were altogether strange.

He seemed…relatively harmless, at least at the moment, but Merel kept her distance anyway. Just in case.

“Hello,” she replied with a small smile. Her tail swished in a friendly greeting. “Did you just wake up here?”

@Tafty
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Tafty was not terribly well-versed in the body language of actual wolves. In years past, he’d spent some time studying the creatures while he prepared for the meditations that would allow him to shift into a wolf wild form. He hadn’t gone to run with the pack afterwards, though. Barring a few brief conversations in passing, Tafty hadn’t had much interest in living as an animal.

The tail wag, then. It looked…friendly? Yes. Not quite dog-like, but in the same general dog family. The motion felt unnatural to Tafty, though; as a tiefling, his tail had only twitched or lashed in agitation, cat-like.

He grudgingly replied with a few stiff, awkward lashes of his wolfish tail. It felt wrong.

“Wake up?” Tafty asked, suspicious. He had, as a matter of fact. How did she know? Had she been watching him? “Do people often sleep here?”

The slumber zone. Maybe some dark curse was laid over the woods. That was the sort of thing Tafty and his crew were interested in, providing the grateful villagers intended to express their thanks in coin (or at least room and board), but Tafty needed to find his mates before finding himself on another quest.

---

@crowloft
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The other wolf seemed…awkward. Maybe a bit unfriendly. Merel guessed he wasn’t too happy about having to ask for help.

She watched him curiously, trying to read him.

“If you mean these woods in specific, I wouldn’t know,” Merel answered, brow furrowed. “But people often seem to…wake up in this land. As if taken from where they were before.”

Perhaps she’d wrongly assumed the same had happened to him? Or, perhaps, he didn’t want to think about it. Merel would not push the subject either way.

“My name is Merel,” she offered.

---

@Tafty

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Tafty’s stomach clenched uneasily. Waking up, taken from where he was before—it sounded about right, yeah. He wished he could remember what had happened! Was the rest of the merry band scattered through the woods, or were they back in the village, wondering what in the hells had happened to him?

Urgh. They might all have been eaten by werewolves by now.

“Tafty,” Tafty said, his brow furrowed in a scowl. Not at Merel, necessarily, but at the entire situation. Tafty still hadn’t the faintest clue what to do, or what, exactly, was going on, but based on Merel’s words, one thing was all too clear. “This land suffers a dire curse,” Tafty said, the words sounding quite a bit more lofty and noble than he felt at the moment, or ever. Fake it ‘til you make it. “Who has twisted this land? Lady Shar?”

Looked like her aesthetic, with all the gloom and glowy mushrooms and things. Ugh. Fungi. So musty. Tafty’s nose wrinkled.

---

@crowloft
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Merel understood very little of what the wolf before her spoke of, but she tried her best to listen politely.

She didn’t know if she really believed in God. Until coming here, Merel hadn’t seen anything that could truly convince her of the existence of miracles or a Heaven or a Hell. There were times she suspected something greater might be watching. More often were the times, however, that she found herself thinking bitterly—if there was a God, then He was a cruel and hateful one.

She preferred to imagine there was no God in the sense she had been taught than accept she was a plaything of a cosmic monster.

“I suppose you could call it a curse,” Merel agreed hesitantly. “Though that depends on your perspective.” For Merel, it had been a blessing.

“That name is unfamiliar to me. Who is Lady Shar?”

Someone he knew, perhaps, who had caused some suffering. Merel had no other guesses.

---

@Tafty

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Merel was clearly clueless. Tafty wasn’t surprised; she was most likely only a wolf, after all, and most natural animals were hazy on the details of organized religion. Those that were familiar with deities tended to know more about gods that took an interest in nature, like the Oak Father and Mielikki. Except to the extremely unlucky, Shar was a dark and distant rumor.

Oh, well. He’d have to go to someone else for specifics, that was all. That was usually how these things went.

“A goddess neither one of us would want to meet,” Tafty said. “Is there anyone who might know more? A druid circle, or a sage?”

This was getting away from him. Tafty felt the call of a quest, but he wasn’t too keen to embark on any new adventures until he’d found the rest of his friends. Even Henri. They were better at talking than he was, anyways. Tafty was an excellent liar, but he was no expert on dark magic. He would hardly know what to ask if he did find a sage.

---

@crowloft
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Ah, he was a pagan. Well, that made more sense.

“I’m the wrong person to ask, I’m afraid,” Merel said diplomatically. “But there are a few packs in the area. Someone among them may share your faith. If you like, I can help you find one.”

With so many wolves around, he was sure to find someone who could…help him. She made a mental note to steer clear of any druids’ circles if they popped up. Merel, as much as she enjoyed hunting, was not thrilled by the idea of blood sacrifices. At least her parents’ God did not ask them to draw blood in His name.

It never occurred to her that Tafty might’ve been something other than a wolf before, of course.

---

@Tafty

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Packs? Wolf packs? Hm. Tafty was not terribly anxious to spend more time in wolf shape than he had to, nor was he interested in speaking to wolf after wolf, but if there was someone like him among them, someone who shared his faith, as she put it—

“Another druid, you mean?” Tafty asked, eagerly. “Wildshaped?”

Privately, Tafty had always thought that druids who chose to live among animals for any great length of time were total weirdos, but he’d never questioned their weirdness and they’d never questioned his own quirks. Most druids tended to be weirdos. Such was the way of the world. In any case, weirdo or not, he’d gladly take help from a local druid.

---

@crowloft
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Quietly, Merel was beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake in extending a helping paw to this wolf. When his eyes lit up, she took a subtle step back.

“Um,” she hesitated. She proceeded carefully. She didn’t think Tafty posed any danger to her, but whatever he was dealing with wasn’t something Merel knew how to help with. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

She decided she would send this fellow off in the opposite direction from herself.

“I do know there’s a large pack to the southeast,” Merel said, pointing with her snout in that direction. “They may be able to point you in the right direction, if not help you themselves.”

Yes, let them deal with him instead.

---

@Tafty

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The dark wolf seemed confused. Tafty felt a flicker of impatience and squelched it. She was just a wolf, after all. Tafty liked animals, but they didn’t tend to provide very detailed information, when they knew anything useful at all. Animals had simple concerns. They didn’t often bother with curses and the like.

“That’s alright,” Tafty said, kindly. “Thank you. Before we go, have you seen anyone else around here? Any people? Any two-legged people, I mean?”

Tafty would prefer his lost companions, naturally, but even a hapless villager fleeing werewolves would be a help. They could probably tell him which direction the village lay in before succumbing to their mortal wounds, and from there Tafty could find his way back.

---

@crowloft
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Two-legged people? Merel frowned. Men, she realized.

“No,” she said. “There are abandoned cities, but I've yet to see any. I think we're safe here.” She meant this encouragingly, with a kind smile. After all, what wolf would want the presence of Men? In her mind, their absence could only mean relief.

With that, she flicked her tail and trotted off into the woods—leaving this strange wolf with that reassurance. Hopefully, he would be able to find his...druids. Far away from her, ideally.

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