noonwraith

Over the dry grass, the hot air shimmered.

Ruadhán lounged on his side under the shade of an acacia tree. It was dangerous to be caught out in the open when the sun blazed overhead. His thin, scruffy coat and long limbs helped him keep cool, but he would have preferred to retreat to the shadows of the canyons.

Only there were no rocky crevices or cool, underground dens to be found here. He did not yet know this land—nor how he had gotten here. He had survived so far by moving only at night, hunting small game in the brush while the air cooled. He had neither his pack’s markers nor even the stars to guide him. It was if the gods had plucked him from his home and placed him somewhere else entirely. If this was some kind of test, however, Rua would rise to meet it.

Just as his eyes began to droop, a movement in the grass drew his attention. He had been alone, here—until now. His ears stiffened as he watched, but he gave no other sign he had been noticed. For now.

As the stranger continued to move, Rua decided to sit up.

“It’s too hot to be out for a stroll,” Rua called out to her as he panted. “Come sit in the shade.”

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@Satiah
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Up close, Rua could see the girl was in worse shape than he’d initially thought. He watched her closely as she settled down next to him. She seemed close to his age, maybe a bit younger; it was hard to be sure with the way her bones poked against her skin. Her cream and blonde hues suited a desert wolf, yet it seemed she had gone many nights without anything to eat. At first, he did not know what to say. It shocked him, in truth, to see a young wolf like this. He could not imagine any of his pack leaving one of their own to starve like this. Even gai’shain ate better than this. A chief who could not provide for his pack was no chief at all, his father had told him.

He thought of him now, and the Wise Ones, with their grins full of missing teeth and eyes sharper than any claw. A pang of loneliness threatened to overwhelm him—but no. He was not a child anymore; he could not act like one.

The boy instead began to dig at the ground, scraping away the sun-baked earth on top to reveal the cooler, softer soil and sand beneath.

“Try digging—the sand underneath is cooler,” Ruadhán told her as he worked.

“My name is Ruadhán, of the Nualláin,” he continued. “Who are you? Where is your family?” His voice was gentle and earnest.
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