*STAR*|c r o s s e d|(Lacrymosa|Nightshade|Damien)

[Sivoncé™]

It had been a long time.
A long time since she'd actually taken a walk, just a walk, with no ulterior motive, secret wish, or purpose. But of course she wished to see her love....but that was not why she was here. This was far too deep into Siverian territory for even Iver to wander, desensitized as they both were. She probably wouldn't have cared if he did have the nerve to come this far. Sure, it was dangerous....but why bother trying to prevent a knot from being tied when it's already in a bow? Why send him back when he would've already come so far? But there were other things on her mind, and the oddly painted fae of a patched blue-silver and red-russet coat laid down in the parched, dried grasses. Reflection was hers.
Dreams...
Things she had not even, perhaps only due to the short time they had seen each other recently, confided in her mate on this point. And what was the point of bringing it up to him now? Now that things were settling down again....at least as best as they could. But she could not run from the images of the couple, the inexplicably beautiful, dazzling twosome. They were like angels, the female being the exact hue of crimson-bottomed clouds at sunset and the male being clad with midnight and silver, swimming with tiny streams, tributaries, and waterfalls of a blue moon. They were dancing, in a way, their pack streaming out behind them, all joyous, except for those who seemed not to dance -- those with dark, plotting scowls slabbed on their maws. But the glorious, tundra-running wolven did not notice the traitorous auras -- they recognized the difference, but seemed not to think much of it, just kept running, dancing. Why, why, couldn't they see it? The lead couple was alive and side-stepping and twirling with two little girls, and the souless crept upon them, eyes and fangs like fire, flashing---
Nightshade woke with a gasp, realizing she'd dozed in a patch of grizzly, scratchy, dried wheat and grass. She blinked a few times, realizing the world seemed to be swimming before her.
I'm....I'm crying......mourning for them....but who are they?

[Destiny]

Gotta stop running, need t' smell those roses...

"Yet how does this work when I be the rose which I wish to smell? Or do I? I am what life created. The essence of everything that I've ever known mingling within one mind, one body, one existence. So am I the rose which I crave, or simply the stalk, searching for it's partner? The second seems the more dominant possibility. Clearly, I am the searcher. The midnight raven who scours his territory trying to locate a meal. A fox as it sneaks into another creature's den to scavenge the left overs from a previous meal. I am half of who I am. So where is my missing piece? Where is my other half?" It was like a sweet whisper of a melody sung to the wind, the voice so clear and crisp, calm and peaceful, like the untouched surface of a lake. Like perfect glass. Yet it was stained glass, for the other side of the picture was muddled and confused in its appearance. Impossible to make out, yet utterly obvious. Clouded with passion slashed uncertainties, yet lusted and craved for like the love which she no longer held in her heart. The love that was a bright spark, a Summer day, locked away in the shell of her body. Awaiting it's prince to come kiss it better, make it live once again. Just waiting.

Lacrymosa's paw steps had carried the female wolf down from the Mountains of Endless Winter in recent moons. Slowly but surely she'd descended into the valley. Always searching, yet not, for him. That scent that refused to exist though it always lingered. An image that would not be seen, yet it was always there. The haunting essence of love that was gone, but still trailed along her spine. The perfection of being whole, the wishful thinking of it. The moon's pale, ethereal glow would wash over her soon enough. But for now, she simply wandered around in the forest. The trees encasing her, wrapping around Lacrymosa like a vine does as it grows. What was this scent? Who was this wolf? It was so eerily familiar. Like something already known, but it had been hidden from her conscious mind. There, but not.

So, Lacrymosa simply wandered onward. Compelled to pad through the Siverian Territory by some strong ribbon that seemed to be guiding her. Some bond that forced her to take that one step into the open. Taut as it was now, she would not step farther. Would not make herself more open to attack. Vulnerable. So the creature waited.

[Sivoncé™]

Nightshade's senses were suddenly drawn to a point of shifting in the thin, sparse grasses up ahead. She narrowed her eyes, suddenly rigid and erect, reflecting quickly on the situation at hand. A fluid, almost graceful lupine figure padded across a gap in the rough shrubbery. Nightshade's heatbeat increased rapidly, and she made a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes widened, and her hostile stance straightened without her much noticing. Nightshade was an ice sculpture in the silver glow of the night. And the she-wolf only pawsteps away was a thing of fire and ice herself. More than that. An image from her dreams.

It seemed all too coincidental that this was happening now, when Nightshade had just been attempting to unravel these recurring dreams, nightmares....but this was not the slayer of the heroine and her hero. No...this was the heroine herself. But the female's footfalls were leading her away. Away with seemingly no deliberate destination, but with a tender, careful certainty...this wolf was looking, searching for something. Someone.

Nightshade could not bare to turn away completely from the moon-dappled, brilliant red femme, but the better part of her conscious cursed her, begging her to turn back now. Don't introduce yourself to hallucinations. Don't hesitate to challenge and drive out strangers and commoners that did not belong.
But how can I just....no, it's not right! Hallucination or not...I'm not chasing her out now! I've too many questions...I don't know why, I just need to make sure she's okay, that she doesn't head into the mountains....that fire will harm her family....
Nightshade winced as she thought of 'family'. Not something she typically did, but in relation to the female in question, this thought process seemed to completely sever Nightshade and this she-wolf...
And that can't be true! I know I'm no healer, no story-teller, no senior, no alpha....but these dreams have to count for something! They must have been shown to me for some reason or another....
Taking a few, swift, brave pawsteps forward, Nightshade came to stand in front of the she-wolf. Taking a deep breath, she murmured her question softly.
"Do I know you?"