Flow softly, swift stream [Thistle]

[smartboyathome]

{ooc: sorry for the short post. muse failed}

The sound of water could be heard all around, from snow dripping from branches and from a not far off stream swollen with water from this snow. The smell of wet earth was heavy on the air as Sascha looked around the land she had wandered to, not knowing at all where she was. Most of the vegetation had died back with fall, and so what little remained wasn't that pleasing to look at, at least to her eyes. She'd have preferred some place with less snow and better access to food, but she was here now and she didn't know where there would be some place different. She didn't know much of the world, nor did she try to, but she did know that wherever this was, it wasn't where she grew up, nor did she want it to be.

She took a deep breath, stretching her limbs after resting in this area overnight, blinking and seeing that the sun wasn't quite up yet. She could smell the scent of another pack, if fainter, and so she wanted to keep moving so that she wouldn't see anyone. If someone did, she knew it wouldn't go over well since most wolves naturally hated Coyotes, and her blood was heavy with their's. Yet, she had enough wolf blood to make most Coyotes not like her either, which meant that she wasn't usually liked by either side. So matter where she went, she was either chased by or see others run from her, only proving that she was different from them. Yet, she didn't let that stop her, she moved forward as if nothing was bothering her, though she remained rather lonely nonetheless.

Yawning, she started walking slowly, just enjoying the crisp, cool air and the sunrise as it ever so slowly came up into the sky. A couple birds flew through the sky, visible due to the leafless nature of the trees, seeming to perform some type of dance. She considered that they were probably having fun, and part of her wanted this but another told her it wouldn't be possible. She was an outcast, and she had to accept this and be happy, though she couldn't at the same time since she knew there was more to life. She shook her head in a vain attempt to get rid of that thought before walking on her way since she didn't want to think of that painful thought. She just had to keep focused, that was it, and if she did that then she'd be able to make it one more day, hopefully more.

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i312.photobucket.com/albums/ll347/MissJane_08/Wolf%20Charries/idris-middle.png] Idris had been assigned to patrol the crystal stream, and she had entered the area tense and ready for battle, keen to flush out the Revolt. She was surprised, the longer she loped through the landscape, at how peaceful it was, in a melancholic sort of way. She knew it was a false spring--winter hadn't even fully set in yet, and the thought of the harsh days to come was daunting, given how hard a fall it had been--but the thaw was soothing nonetheless. The giant of a she-wolf trotted up to the stream's edge, being careful of her footing on the slippery rocks around it. Her thick, heavy coat kept her warm in the cold, insulating her from the little flurries of snow that flew up, brushed off the fallen mounds, but she wasn't used to such climes. She had grown up in the temperate valley of Everfall Fields, and now that her heart was open again, she yearned for those days of peace and comfort. But first, the war. Idris reached out one large paw, touching a jagged sheet of ice that was clinging to one of the boulders in the stream. She pushed slightly, and with a satisfying crack, half the sheet broke off, swimming away swiftly into the flood. A sigh escaped her muzzle, steaming up in two columns of curling mist that mingled above her head and then dissipated, dissolving into separate particles mid-air. That melting ice reminded her of herself, once again. She had trained herself for years for this war, both inside and out--on the inside, walling away her sorrow, fear, and love, leaving her with only anger, a hot-burning fuel that drove her tirelessly onwards. One small, simple gesture, the touch of a nose to hers, had brought her icy wall down into a flood of feeling, and she was suddenly forced to face the world again as it was, in shades of gray rather than black and white, with a raw and exposed heart. Within that gray world, a flash of color caught her eye--russet and brown moving, further down the stream. She looked up, and for a moment thought she saw Lakiya again, in the form of a small, reddish canine, delicately formed, working her way down the path. Idris shook her head. Will I always be mistaking one thing for another? First I saw Olwen in Luetta, now Lakiya in this stranger. What's next? My father in a tree? She lifted herself up and padded after the unfamiliar fae. She knew she ought to be cautious, particularly so as the Revolt members didn't mark themselves as conveniently as the Order, but her mood was...vulnerable. Forgiving, even. "Stranger," she called out, loud enough to be a hail, but not an order or a bark. She thought of what she would normally say next, something like "Declare yourself!" or "State your name!" Instead, what came out was "Where do you come from?" She said it almost gently, inquiringly, and found herself curious, casting about for a connection. The great wolf stopped, then, standing tall. Her stance was authoritative, legs wide and straight, head high, but in the lighter chestnut mask of her face her expression was soft and hard to read, her eyes a murky, burnt umber.

[smartboyathome]

Sascha had been minding her own business and not really paying attention to anything around ehr, hoping that the others of whatever pack was here would too, but of course that wasn't to be. Very soon after starting her walk, she heard pawsteps, causing her heart to jump into her throat as she turned her head in the direction of the noise. She wanted to run but the wolf had come up too quick, and apparently she had been distracted enough not to hear it at all. This was a bad time for her to do such a thing, she knew that winter well on the way meant that it'd be mating season, and with mating season wolves were more territorial. She didn't know as much about the wolves as she did the Coyotes, but what she did know was that they were much more bound to their packs than the coyotes, which were much less stable.

As she looked at the wolf, the first thing she noticed was how large it was, it was absolutely monstrous compared to her, and much stronger. She'd expect the latter, but the former was shocking to her, especially when combined with it's brunette coat color, and gave it a powerful appearance. At first, she thought it was male, but both its scent and its lack of the normal equipment revealed it was very much a female. She obviously wasn't one to be messed with, though something about her gestures indicated that she was looking down upon herself despite her power. Perhaps Sascha was just mistaken, however, since she didn't know as much about wolves, just the bit her mother had told her and what she had picked up.

Again, the thought of running crossed her mind, taking a step back, but she knew that would be a bad idea since she'd probably just be chased down. Fear was still very much apparent in both her own features and her soul, and she kept her muscles tensed so that she could escape at a moment's notice. She could almost hear a growl in the back of her mind, it was such a common sound now for her from both coyotes and wolves alike. She wished she was still with her mother, but she had up and gone just as her father had when she was too young to remember. She didn't know what he looked like, but she had constructed an image in her mind, and she didn't blame him though she did wonder why he left. Her mother couldn't imagine he did it willingly, but she herself couldn't think that there was any other explenation.

The wolf's booming voice immediately caught Sascha's attention and dragged her out of her mental ponderings. She was startled by its intensity, and took a step back as she feared what the wolf would say next even more than before. "Get out of here!" or "I'm going to kill you, you mutt!" came to mind, and she could feel both stabbing at her inside her mind as her mind ran away once more. This was why she wandered, she had nowhere to go and neither canids' lifestyles seem to quite fit her either. She was just fed up with wandering, but she had no solution for it since she didn't feel like she could actually be respected by others.

What the wolf said next, however, surprised herself and she found that she could only stand there speechless for what seemed like an eternity. Never had anyone ever asked her something like that, she didn't even think anything would have cared, though she remained cautious since it could be a trick. Shyly, taking another step back, she said, "I... I don't know. I don't even know where I am now." She knew that wasn't a very good answer, but she couldn't think of any others, and she wanted to just run badly now before things escalated. Her kindness was welcoming, and she wanted it, but at the same time there was something very scary about it.

"I... I'm sorry for encroaching on your pack's land." She stated, still fear in her voice as she tried to think of what exactly to do. "I'll leave now." She said, surprising herself yet more as she backed away, turning and starting to walk slowly walking away, nearing tears. She was overwhelmed by this for some reason, and no matter which choice she would have taken, she knew that it would have ended the same. She couldn't take advantage of this wolf's seeming kindness, it would either lead her to trouble or bring trouble to the wolf, neither of which she wanted. Yet, even with this, she couldn't help but feel that she was making the wrong choice, that there wasn't a right choice.

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i312.photobucket.com/albums/ll347/MissJane_08/Wolf%20Charries/idris-middle.png] Despite her relatively gentle tones, the other femme was obviously frightened by her. For not the first time in her life, Idris felt somewhat awkward in her body; though she was normally proud of her stature and strength, and loved the feeling of her muscles moving with power, at times like this she wished she looked less...imposing. The wolf in front of her was taking her in as she backed a few steps away, eyes wide, and Idris took the opportunity to do the same, taking the measure of the stranger. She was, on second glance, about twice Lakiya's size, though that still put her at a fraction of Idris's height and weight, like most females. Like Lakiya, she looked somehow foreign, her face and features sharper than those of most wolves, her build lighter, and an interesting dark stripe lined her back. Her ears were large, and delicately quivering with tension. "I... I don't know. I don't even know where I am now." Idris relaxed somewhat, though she still wished the other femme would, too. "Well then at least you're not Revolt," she said, a good bit more warmly. Then, frankly eying the fae's unmarked chest: "And not Order either, obviously." "I... I'm sorry for encroaching on your pack's land." "Wait, no, you've misunderstood--" The stranger looked truly miserable now, her expression one of deeply rooted fear, sadness, and a very long loneliness. Idris tentatively took a few steps closer, moving slowly so as not to startle the fae even more. "I'll leave now." "Wait! The Warrior femme was frustrated with the childish, pleading tone of her voice. She stopped her careful picking way and broke into a swift lope to catch up and cut off her companion, slipping several times on the treacherous rocks but never quite falling. She came to a skidding stop abreast of the she-wolf, breath slightly faster. "This isn't my pack's lands," she started, smiling ruefully at the very thought. "These lands don't rightfully belong to anyone, but a group called the Revolt lurks here, and it's dangerous." Idris tossed her head to bring notice to the green feather matted behind her ear, and it dutifully fluttered and flickered, bright in the darkness of her fur. "It's my job to harry the Revolt, and protect any wolves who mean no harm." The completely nonsensical sound of everything she was saying rang back to Idris, jarring and awkward. This wolf wouldn't know any of the names she was letting tumble out of her mouth like so many rocks; she would see only a strangely over-eager wolfess who had just pursued her for no apparent reason. She lowered her head briefly, snorting slightly in frustration, another puff of smoky air wreathing her face. She looked back up through the drifting cloud. "You're new, aren't you?" she asked, a tired look of understanding in the tawny-chestnut fur that surrounded her eyes and mouth. "Perhaps we should start this over."

[smartboyathome]

Sascha was confused as the wolf mentioned Revolt and Order, which she guessed were names for packs or some other groups in the area. If this were true, then she didn't want to get involved since she had her own problems and she guessed that both sides would hate her for her obviously not wolf blood. Why would they have any reason to trust her anyway, she was new to this area and none of them actually knew her. As it was she needed to get out of here before any more wolves showed up, or she would surely be done for now. This one perhaps didn't know what she was now, but she knew that once it found out it would act just like the rest of them.

"Wait, no, you've misunderstood--"

She ignored the wolf as it told her she misunderstood, knowing that in her mind she understood perfectly, and knew well what would happen to her if she stayed. She told herself that this wolf was the one that didn't understand, and it'd be best if she just stayed away from her. She looked like she had already been through a lot recently, and this would only add to her troubles, especially if she was stranded from her kind like her father. That was why her father had left her mother, she guessed, and why she didn't blame him since, honestly, she didn't like being a cross. If she didn't see this wolf or this land for the rest of her life, it'd only be better for them, and she could possibly find someplace peaceful as well.

She could hear this wolf following her and she gave a huff as she debated increasing her speed to get away from the wolf since she felt that it couldn't pursue for too long. However, it'd be able to catch up to her quickly and was much stronger than her, giving her no chance, and she quickly decided not to risk it. She knew that this would probably prevent her from escaping period, but she had made up her mind and she was going to stick with it. The least she could do was to face whatever situation was going to present itself, whether good or bad it didn't really matter to her. She had often gotten herself into trouble this way, but there was still always that bit of hope that there would be one situation where it was the right choice.

She stopped as the wolfess circled in front of her, blocking her from going further and, again in her own opinion, making a huge mistake. She wished that it would leave well enough alone, the natural order was already disrupted enough, but she knew that it wouldn't. Probably hadn't even seen any coyotes before, which made sense when added to the fact that she hadn't seen many herself for a while. She was being looked at as just a strange wolf, which was a relief in one way for her since few ever looked at her like that. However, it was bittersweet since there had to be someone within her pack whom would know what she was and go after her because of it.

"This isn't my pack's lands, these lands don't rightfully belong to anyone, but a group called the Revolt lurks here, and it's dangerous."

Again with her mentioning Revolt again, almost as if she was supposed to know it since she gave very few details. Obviously she was part of this group, and she was proud of it, though there seemed to be something else there as well. Whatever it was, she didn't really have time to care about, since she wasn't likely to be joining it and thus only had to watch her back. As long as she knew that there was trouble brewing between this group and the other Order group, that would be enough for her. Something deep in her mind told her it wouldn't, but she ignored it, she had gotten along fine thus far by doing exactly this.

"It's my job to harry the Revolt, and protect any wolves who mean no harm."

This caught her attention, she did actually think of her as a wolf, and this struck her like a thorn in her paw that didn't want to come out. She hated when she was mistaken as just a wolf, and she wanted to actually show them a coyote so that they could see the differences. She had to hold herself back from just yelling at this wolf, however she did it, letting out just another breath as she could tell that the wolfess was frustrated too. What she was frustrated about Sascha didn't know, but at least she could tell that it was frustrated.

"You're new, aren't you? Perhaps we should start this over."

Yes, it might be better to start over, now that she knew this wolf better and could explain things better to her. "Yes, we should. Before we do, though, let me correct you on one point, I am not a wolf, I am a wolf-coyote mix. I don't know if you actually know what a coyote is, but they're hated by wolves, and vice versa. It's just how things are, and so you should make this conversation quick so that you aren't caught talking to me." Part of her hated herself for saying that, but she felt she must since not to do so would be committing a great injustice to her. If she didn't treat others like that, how could she expected to get treated like that back, it just wouldn't happen.

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i312.photobucket.com/albums/ll347/MissJane_08/Wolf%20Charries/idris-middle.png] "Yes, we should. Before we do, though, let me correct you on one point, I am not a wolf, I am a wolf-coyote mix. I don't know if you actually know what a coyote is, but they're hated by wolves, and vice versa. It's just how things are, and so you should make this conversation quick so that you aren't caught talking to me." Idris was shocked at those words--not so much the belief, but the vehemence with which they were said, and the fact that they were being spouted by the victim of their meaning. She fell silent for a moment, still feeling an urge to untangle this muddled comedy of errors, and to keep this little fae from scampering off into the mists, and into the dangers of Revolt territory. She flicked one ear and took a longer look at the femme. Yes, she was different, that was clear. Her ears were larger than those of a normal wolf, compared to her delicate face, and they gave her an alert look. And there was that dark stripe of fur limning the trim line of her back. Idris's eyes smoothly moved back to the stranger's, which were staring at her with an admirable, dogged determination. "Very well then," she began, "let me clear up a few things as well. No, until a few moments ago, I had not heard the word coyote." The word came out sounding strange in her slight Cymry accent. "But I have met maned wolves in my time here, and in the last month an Ethiopian wolf barely half your size. I see you. You speak my language. And you are close enough kin to be part one and part the other." Hoping the wolf-coyote would not bolt in the middle of a conversation, Idris seated herself, taking the opportunity to stretch cold-stiffened muscles. She reached out her forelegs to feel the pull of the muscles across her back, and then rolled her broad shoulders, fur rolling with them to reveal the lighter, tawny underfur beneath the dark guard-hairs. "I know only one pack that would seek to strike down another thinking, speaking being based on difference, and that's The Order." As always, her voice lowered and became dark on those two words, only when they came in concert, a deep, basso profundo that faded away when she began speaking again, into her normal, husky but warm tones. "Their ranks are growing, it's true, and they're a vile lot, but isolated in their hatred. You speak of universal truths--how things are--but aside from bone, blood, and earth, the only truths are those we make ourselves." The language was flowery and philosophical for the normally stoic wolf, but this was something she fiercely believed, despite the muddled teachings of her family and the tenuously planted seeds of Lakiya's foreign religion. Rules were things that thinking beings crafted, to be broken or upheld. The rules of The Order, for Idris, were clearly of the kind to be broken. She wrapped her thick tail around her paws, leaving a brushy sweep in the light layer of snow. "I am Idris verch Rhonwen, by Yorath. I am a Warrior of the Realm, I am here to drive out the oppression of The Order and their allies, I am not afraid of being seen with any good-hearted creature--" Here, her eyes softened in their kohl-like outlines from fierce tawny to gently glowing amber. "And I would like to know your name."

[smartboyathome]

Sascha could tell that the wolf was shocked as she said that she was a coyote, and she looked down at her paws then back up as she waited for the reply. She felt herself being scrutinized by the stranger, and she knew that the end of their meeting would probably be growing near because of what she was. She knew that she probably looked odd to the wolf, she was a cross after all, but there was something different about this wolf as well. Nothing physical, she looked like an average wolf to Sascha's own untrained eyes, but there was still something about her which seemed off when she was compared to other wolves she remembered seeing. Whatever the case was though, she kept telling herself that she would go on, this was pretty much all that kept her alive at times.

"Very well then, let me clear up a few things as well. No, until a few moments ago, I had not heard the word coyote. But I have met maned wolves in my time here, and in the last month an Ethiopian wolf barely half your size. I see you. You speak my language. And you are close enough kin to be part one and part the other."

She listened very intently as the stranger began to talk, though it may not have looked like it since she was constantly rotating her ears, nervous about other wolves. She couldn't be caught unaware, but at this point she doubted that anyone would be disturbing them anytime soon. She still wanted to run, but the way this wolf talked kept her there, listening, almost as if she was caught in some type of trap. She herself didn't know what either a Maned Wolf or an Ethiopian wolf actually was, but she assumed that they were just types of wolves based on their names. She had to open her eyes wide in surprise at the mentioning of the Ethiopian wolf being barely half her size, she didn't even know wolves got that small. She had always assumed that if it was that small, it'd be some type of fox, the only other canid she knew about, and one that she neither liked nor hated as a whole.

She was glad that the wolf wasn't going to hurt her, but there was something discerning as the wolf sat down on the earthen floor of the forest. It was relaxing, which was setting off alarm bells in her mind since the last time that had happened to her more wolves had arrived. She raised her nose up a bit as the wolf stretched, trying to smell around for any new scents that could be around here. She kept one ear and the corner of her eye on the stranger just in case she was being deceived, knowing that at times wolves could be as tricky as foxes. All it took from her was letting her guard down once, and she could find herself pinned with jaws at her throat ready to take her life. That, of course, she couldn't have happen, and she'd survive for as long as she could, though she knew that living on the edge of both creatures would probably mean that she'd reach the end of her own life earlier.

As the wolf started talking again, she turned her attention back to it reluctantly, still keeping on alert in case. She probably looked rather paranoid, but that was how she had grown up, how both of her parents were. Of course wolves hadn't attacked her yet, she was still on alert and this could be seen in her gestures, so they wouldn't attack. This wolf's relaxing seemed to be contagious, however, and she found herself relaxing as well soon enough, sitting herself down, but not taking her mind off of her own surroundings.

"I know only one pack that would seek to strike down another thinking, speaking being based on difference, and that's The Order."

Her attention was fully on the wolf now, leaving herself open she knew but she didn't care since she wanted to know more about this. If she was walking into dangerous territory, she wanted to avoid it, for she didn't know anything about the landscape around her. She doubted that she'd be allowed within this pack, so at least she could get information out of this meeting that she could use to keep herself out of trouble. However, there was something about this Order that made her voice waver for a moment, and she could tell that the pack was very hated in this wolf's mind. She could feel a chill going down her own spine as she said that, and the sentence that followed only reinforced this.

"You speak of universal truths--how things are--but aside from bone, blood, and earth, the only truths are those we make ourselves."

This was all she needed to be told in order to know that she was safe now, and it caused her mind to come to a halt. Was what she had said correct, were truths actually made without any element of predetermination whatsoever? She just couldn't believe this in its entirety, sure there were some things that beings determined about themselves, but there were just others which one couldn't change. Never fitting in to either of the cultures that made up herself was just one example of this, there were many others that she could think of. Still, she wanted this to be true, but she just couldn't deny the doubts about it, something that was rare for herself. "I will keep that in mind, and perhaps that works for you, but I'm guessing you've not been on the fringes of two cultures like i have my whole life, and this is why i cannot believe it."

"I am Idris verch Rhonwen, by Yorath. I am a Warrior of the Realm, I am here to drive out the oppression of The Order and their allies, I am not afraid of being seen with any good-hearted creature--and I would like to know your name."

She couldn't help but lower her head and ears a bit more as she said that, she sounded noble to her ears, and Sascha herself was so... not. She knew this was submissive, but this is what she wanted since, naturally, wolves were stronger than Coyotes, and she knew she'd not be able to take one on. A smile came upon her face at how naive the wolf sounded, but it was not a mocking smile, rather one of an admiring type. She kept her head lowered as she replied, "I am Sascha Rochus. A bad name, I know, but its my name all the same. My intentions are not as noble as yours, just to survive since I know there are few I can trust. You, however, are the exception from what I've seen, but please ignore my skittishness."

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i312.photobucket.com/albums/ll347/MissJane_08/Wolf%20Charries/idris-middle.png] The little crossbreed before her was clearly very nervous, and Idris felt a bit guilty for her part in that. She also felt on edge herself from watching her--the flicking ears, the eyes clearly looking around for other attackers, the tense but fluid lines of her body. Her heart seemed to beat harder with the anxiety, though she masked it as best she could, maintaining her earlier posture; she definitely did not want this femme to scamper off, and every action she made seemed to be part of the knife blade this stranger's decisions were balancing on. When she mentioned the Order and their noxious "belief" system, her companion seemed both to focus and to settle, reluctantly leaving off her scanning of the periphery to look more directly at Idris. Idris, in turn, gave her a tentative smile, an expression that, though she wasn't aware of it, was her signature--a crooked smile that appeared on one side of her muzzle, a little wry, a little knowing, a little self-deprecating, but always somehow determined. "I will keep that in mind, and perhaps that works for you, but I'm guessing you've not been on the fringes of two cultures like i have my whole life, and this is why i cannot believe it." Idris couldn't help it. It wasn't unfriendly in the least, and it wasn't a guffaw, but a brief, hearty chuckle escaped her, rolling in her deep-chested voice, coming mellifluously from her throat. She quieted herself quickly, giving another flash of her sideways smile, a touch apologetically. "I don't mean to belittle you; I was just laughing at my own circumstances," she began. "You probably see me now and think 'What, this big fat she-wolf with a fancy title and a feather in her hair? Outsider? What's she known the outside of, her den?'" She tipped her head ever so slightly to one side as she observed the newcomer, still trying to put her at her ease. Somewhere below the wall within her, her heart hurt at the glimpses she could imagine of the fae's past, the familiar chords of exile. She wondered how much she could venture saying, wondered what the other femme had grown up hearing about...wolves like her. "It's a long story; I suppose I'll say that if my parents were still alive now, they might still be ashamed of me. And it took me two years of wandering, but I finally found a pack." She tossed her head again, a tiny movement designed just to point out the feather. A little ashamed, she thought to herself: "And you haven't exactly been advertising, have you, Idris verch Rhonwen?" but kept quiet. Her own internal conflicts aside, she knew with a deep clarity that Serena, Wintersleep and the others would embrace and seek to protect this nervous, fiery little mix. The delicate femme before her lowered her head and ears after Idris announced her name and station, and once again she found herself feeling awkward and ashamed of her bulk and brash nature. It seemed that her large paws kept figuratively stepping on smaller toes. "I am Sascha Rochus. A bad name, I know, but its my name all the same. My intentions are not as noble as yours, just to survive since I know there are few I can trust. You, however, are the exception from what I've seen, but please ignore my skittishness." Dark-tipped ears shifted back to the top of her head, and Idris's wavering smile returned as Sascha proclaimed that she trusted her. She tucked her head slightly down in pleasure, still looking directly at the femme, an angle that gave her ruff a mane-like effect, though softly flowing for once instead of raised in battle-fury. "Sascha Rochus," she repeated, the words both awkward and somehow flowing in the hints of her native accent. "I don't see how that's a bad name at all. And...I'm glad that you trust me."

[smartboyathome]

Of course Sascha became embarrassed as she heard Idris chuckle in response to her statement, but she tried not to show it. She had already shown enough weakness, and she didn't want to look like a complete hopeless cause when she still had some life in her. She knew it sounded foolish to any wolf, it would probably sound foolish to any coyote that had heard her state it as well, but she couldn't say it any clearer. She had seen sides of both that they didn't want to admit they had, and up until this point she could find herself liking neither of them. This she-wolf had seemed to change all that, however, and she, for the first time, could feel that it wasn't completely hopeless trying to interact with them.

"I don't mean to belittle you; I was just laughing at my own circumstances. You probably see me now and think 'What, this big fat she-wolf with a fancy title and a feather in her hair? Outsider? What's she known the outside of, her den?'"

The way Idris seemed to talk, however, put a slight smile on her own face, and she could feel the tension start to slip away, like a blanket of snow after a storm. She was very glad that she wasn't being teased, but she had to wonder what she meant by 'her own circumstances', couldn't be similar to what Sascha had gone through. She had described her thoughts exactly though, she didn't think what any wolf could experience had been as bad as herself. Than again, she didn't know wolf culture that well, she had never gotten in much contact with them, so perhaps things were different than how she thought of them.

"It's a long story; I suppose I'll say that if my parents were still alive now, they might still be ashamed of me. And it took me two years of wandering, but I finally found a pack."

Her explanation left much to be desired, but Sascha didn't want to push this too far since they were starting to get on good terms at last. It didn't seem at all what she had gone through, though she knew she could also just be misinterpreting it. However, at least she had the hope of a pack, whereas she never could get in one because of her bloodline. Even if she wasn't struck down by the pack, she didn't think they'd want someone like her, there were some thing that just weren't meant to be. However, there seemed to be hope within Idris, and Sascha wanted to cling to it since it had been the first time in a while she had been able to have a conversation like this. Not since her mother had left her had she been able to really talk to anyone, and now pent up feelings were finally starting to show.

She watched as the she-wolf showed off her feather, and she had to wonder why anything would be wearing something like that. She had grown up being taught to rip out the feathers and leave them while eating the bird, not to keep one for one's self. Than again, many of the things she did were different than she had expected, a whole new side of a culture she hadn't had contact with. Perhaps she could just watch them since she knew she couldn't join the pack, and from that she could learn about the wolves that made up part of herself. If that didn't work out, however, at least she had this encounter, for it taught her a lot and already showed her that her previous theories weren't completely correct.

"Sascha Rochus, I don't see how that's a bad name at all. And...I'm glad that you trust me."

"The way you say it sounds better than how my parents always said it, in fact I like that way better. However, I don't like it since my parents just gave me it to be prepared for me being either gender, I think. It just sounds like blech to me." She hated that she had admitted it, but it was true that Idris's different sounding accent made it sound a lot better. She wondered if they were to be called friends now, she hadn't exactly gotten all the socialization that she had needed when she was a pup. She liked to think that she had made her first friend, though, since that just made her life that much less gloomy.

She looked down at her paws, then back up at her friend nervously, trying to think of how she wanted to word what she was thinking. She didn't want it to come out then realize she had said it completely wrong, she didn't know if she could do that right now. She didn't take long, however, and she just decided to spit it out for her thoughts weren't getting any happier. "Do you think... your pack would mind me watching them? I... I haven't been around many wolves, I don't know much about you despite being part of one." Her ears tucked back, ashamed that she was even asking since she knew that it would have been better if she had just done it, or so she thought.

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i312.photobucket.com/albums/ll347/MissJane_08/Wolf%20Charries/idris-middle.png] The tiny smile that slowly crept onto Sascha's face was disarmingly charming, and Idris watched its progress intently as it flickered into being. Somehow, something she had said or done had finally chipped away a little chink of her tension, and it made Idris relax more with it. "The way you say it sounds better than how my parents always said it, in fact I like that way better. However, I don't like it since my parents just gave me it to be prepared for me being either gender, I think. It just sounds like blech to me." Idris tilted her head in curiosity at the idea of naming a pup before you knew its gender, but with more interest at the similarity to her own tale. She remembered the jokes her father had made about it, jokes that had slowly gotten harsher and more serious before being dropped entirely, an empty, hushed space that was very carefully avoided. The thought was something she shied away from in turn, a place in her memory that was tinged with a confused mix of shame and resentment. She gave a wry smile, and a lower, quieter chuckle. "My name is a brute's name, actually. 'Ardent lord,' it means." She made a little amused snort at that. "My father insisted on it, despite my mother's objections. He came to regret that, I think...always pinned the blame on it for why I didn't turn out as exactly the ideal femme." Idris glanced down at her large paws as she finished, looking at them somewhat critically. They matched the rest of her, which was to say big, and always served as a reminder of that fact--solid, hardened by weather and miles traveled, black claws slightly chipped in places, they were a soldier's paws, never to be mistaken for those of a pretty, idle fae. She looked up in amusement to see that Sascha was also gazing at her paws, and felt a warm little click of connection, though the sight before her companion's eyes was certainly different--no less travel-worn, perhaps, but small, delicately formed, an elision of rusty reds and elegant creams. Idris met her eyes when she raised them, yellow gold before that vulpine muzzle, and if the look in her own eyes was strangely yearning, she hoped it would be written off as a fluke of old memories. Sascha also seemed to want something--there was a hesitation, in her speech, in her stance, that caught Idris's breath briefly, though what exactly she hoped for was unclear. That her vague references to not being an "ideal femme" had rung a bell? Unlikely. And what was she doing, stumblingly thinking of flirting with this stranger who a few minutes ago had been ready to bolt? Still, something resonated undeniably, a hint of similarity in difference, like a faint scent lingering in the air after its source has gone. For that matter, her scent was intriguing. It was sharper and earthier than many Idris had encountered, and smelled of foreign, dusty places, hints of sage and spice and a warm body beneath. Finally, the question came: "Do you think... your pack would mind me watching them? I... I haven't been around many wolves, I don't know much about you despite being part of one." Idris was equal parts elated and selfishly disappointed. The buoyant emotions swiftly overtook the negative ones, though, and she gave Sascha a brilliant smile, her eyes glinting a pleasant rosy amber for once, instead of a fierce tawny fire. "Not at all. We welcome all those who mean no harm--those with a bright spirit in particular," she added, giving a polite and meaningful nod to the fae before her. She rose to her feet, giving herself a quick shake and then another stretch, rump in the air, forelegs out straight, before settling at an even keel. She took a few tentative steps closer to Sascha, still with that smile on her face. "Might I have the honor of being your escort, milady?" she asked, a gentle wink in her tone.