Untarnished {Sainthood} (Riniad)

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The water was calm, its only blemish coming from ripples made by small, milky paws. Light from the moon shone brightly onto the lake's surface, making it shimmer and sparkle. It might have seemed strange to see a wolf swimming in a lake at such chilling temperatures, but it was a hobby of Rochelle's. It cleared her mind, allowed her to become one with the heavens and her Golden Wolf. It allowed her to be closer with her mother, bless her soul.

In a matter of minutes, Rochelle was submerged up to her neck, stretching onto the tips of her paws to avoid plunging her face into the cold water. This was the best part. It was like a tired stretch after sleeping for days, a sneeze that's been tempting you every five minutes for a week, stored aggression that was just released on an unsuspecting squirrel. Like flying.

She pushed off the bottom, the silky fur around her billowing and flowing with every move. It looked almost as if milk was being poured onto a mirror, tiny swirls of caramel dripping sweetly throughout the mixture. With a deep breath, she plunged under the water, letting it soak through every inch of her fur. The cold chilled her to the bone, yet it soothed her.

However, a sound as she resurfaced brought her out of her trance-like state. "I-if you are w-wolven, T-Traveller, p-please speak up-p?"

[Destiny]

As all things do, the seasons had come to pass, and time had stolen many a friend and relative. Parents, acquaintances, potential darlings, friends, siblings.. The list goes on. Every so often a thought would cross his mind, a memory of days long gone by, and he would ponder the nostalgia, wondering where that wolf was today, and how they were doing. Not that it really mattered - with the exception of the 'sister' Santi had adopted for them long ago, everyone felt at peace. That was the important thing.

It was a nice day - most days were, in his opinion; rain, snow, sun, wind, fog.. It didn't matter. There was always a bright side to the weather; to everything, for that matter. Moments before, he had been poised in a rather relaxed looking position behind some rich green bushes, watching the other wolf at the lake.Normally, no one else came here - at least not these days - and he was taken by surprise to see a new face so near to where he lived day-in and day-out. Maybe he had simply not been around at the same time as her before - he was sure it was a her, from the scent that carried on the breeze, and from the pitch of her voice when she spoke. Oh! Had he broken a twig? Rustled the leaves? Dear oh dear.

Terribly embarrassed, the average sized wolf took a moment to compose himself before emerging from the underbrush with neither grace nor confidence, clumsiness nor pushiness. There was an oddly 'peaceful' nature to the way in which he walked - not quite lumbering, not quite trotting, but simply moving. Though he was a particularly ragged looking fellow, with a thick, long, shaggy reddish coat and deep, forest-y green eyes with hints of grey, he was not 'unattractive' in the way that a hobo is not unattractive after a particularly good bath (But still rather scraggly looking). "Terribly sorry, miss, I was just wondering who you are, exactly, and didn't want to intrude on your bath - it would've seemed a bit rude, don't you think, had I come stumbling in here while you were enjoying the tranquility of the lake? It would have been. My apologies, none the less." He made no gesture to go along with it, but simply stood, not too close to the lake-shore, not too far away from it, and watched her, and waited.

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Though her opinions were never dictated by appearance, Rochelle was rather taken aback by the loner's countenance. He was unruly, though organized in his movements. He was somewhat awkward, but in a way that was interesting. When he spoke, his voice was filled with kind peacefulness, a sound that would make pups sigh with content and the loneliest old wolves breathe new life.

As the scruffy wolf spoke, Rocky made her way to the shore, dragging her heavy, soaked fur along with her. Being careful not to get too close, she shook her body, flinging droplets of liquid ice in all directions. When not completely soaked to the skin, her fur was soft and somewhat fluffy, the color of milk and caramel swirled together. Her kind, gray eyes met with those of her companion.

She smiled in the male's direction. "Do not be bothered, my brother, I cannot call this place my own. I am known as Rochelle, of the Yozorans." She gave a nod toward the wolf. "What may I speak of you as?"

[Destiny]

It was an odd thing, really, meeting with another living creature of the same species after so many moons. Previously, conversations had consisted of the occasional muttering at prey when it was too swift for tired paws, or a passing nod to a particularly unfriendly looking rogue or pack member on the rare occasion that their paths crossed. To say the least, he was a bit out of his element; but no matter. Taking things in stride was all apart of the philosophy of life, in his opinion, and the way that it was to be lived. Abruptly, his left paw shot down on something that had been rustling quietly through the grass, and he took a moment to pick the small duckling up - as a bearer might a newborn pup. With gentleness no predator should exhibit in front of its prey, or any other wolf for that matter, the vagabond strode - sort of strode, anyway - right on past the lovely little fem' he'd so rudely disturbed, and gently deposited the frightened yellow bundle down by the water. It immediately took off into the lake in a flurry of quacking, fluffy chick down and splish-splashes.

After several moments of apparent contemplation, he turned away from the water and retraced his steps. Once again, he stood, not in a way that suggested formality was preferable, but with the manner of someone who simply did not feel like sitting at the time. This time, he took a few seconds to examine his younger acquaintance, in the way that one might look curiously upon a cocoon as it evolves into a butterfly. After some time, which may have been precious seconds or comfortable minutes, the fair-sized muzzle parted again. "Dear lady, Rochelle," He corrected, "It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Riniad, son of the loners Santi and Daris, brother to the lost Neva, Illustrian, and Amoret. That is not to say that they are deceased - just not within my realm of mortal knowledge at this time." There was a moment of pause, consideration. "My mother also 'adopted' a wolf known as Akaira for a period of time, she was the daughter of Destiny - you may be familiar, she was the alphess they named the Destinian Pack after, I do believe." All of this was said in the manner of one discussing simple matters like the weather, as if it was entirely her's, and anyone else's, business should they feel the need to ask him who he was.

For several moments, he stood, uncertain as to how, exactly, their conversation should be continued.Briefly, he pondered how a wolf so pretty as this one could be so brave as to leave the safety of pack boundaries for a swim. There were dangerous rogues about these days; he'd met several of them in his not-so-many moons, after all. "Pleasure, again, miss, to be of your presence." His voice was the sort of gruff, low rumble of a bear - but the soft, gentle tone of a mother speaking to her children in a time of great dismay. A walking contradiction, really.

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A faint smile crossed her muzzle as the small duckling quickly fluttered across the lake, disturbing the calm stillness that had been there before. The Golden Wolf worked in mysterious ways, and this wolf was definitely a mysterious creation. Rocky had never seen another wolf with such apparent compassion for living creatures and it definitely gave her hope. With the chaos around her, this peaceful creature helped her to realize that maybe her God was still with her.

Her eyes widened slightly at Riniad's long introduction. None of the names were familiar to her, except maybe Destiny. Some of the older wolves talked about her frequently, along with Yozora, Sheera, and Siveria. She seemed like quite an inspiring wolf. "I fear that my days before this are not as colorful as yours, my friend. My bearer had much faith in her Golden Wolf, though I believe he called her far before her liking. Been with us, he has not frequently." Rochelle frowned, looking at her paws. She no longer cried for her lost mother, though the pain was still present.

As he spoke again, she smiled briefly, looking up at him. "Quite a pleasure it is, Riniad. This world is cruel, dangerous, but you... different, you are. Seems the Goddesses themselves have blessed your mind, your outlook. You remind me very much of my parents."

[Destiny]

There is always a brief lapse in time between the moment where one creature's mouth is still, and the other realizes it would be the appropriate time to say something in response. During these few precious seconds of easy silence, one's mind can get away with itself, drifting off onto trails never before noticed. Finding fantasies, daydreams, nightmares that it never knew even existed before. Things that should have been there his whole left, felt as if they had been, but were unfamiliar in the way a new home is to an old dog.

When she spoke, he was not surprised. In fact, there was a certain lull in her voice, a tuneless lullaby, a whisper that existed to stir the deepest portion of his chest but was not actually there. There was no way for one to tell that the loner was momentarily bewitched, though, unless your eye was sharp and you had a reason to be staring at his big red ears. Watching as they stiffened when she spoke. Perhaps he was simply relishing in the company of someone new, truth be told. But then again, who really knows how the cogs turn in a male's mind?

"I am most deeply sorry for your loss, my lady. It is with a heavy heart that we all must say good-day to our loved ones, and no soul-filled wolf would say a word against you should you choose to morn for longer than may be respectable." It was not so much that he had assumed she may still be remembering her mother in the manner of one who has not come to terms with death, as it was that he simply felt the need to say those words. Sort of an instinctual desire to make anyone and everyone feel a bit better about themselves and everyone else. That said, he did in fact know the pain she radiated from deep down, simply for the reason that he had been born with that sixth sense. It came in handy more often than you might think.

There were several moments of long silence between them then, in which the wind took the opportunity to pick up and blow several tree-fulls of leaves in their general direction. A branch struck him a glancing blow across the muzzle, but there was no sign at all that he had noticed - or been even mildly hurt by it. Several leaves set up camp in the shaggy recesses of his thick coat. Finally, with eyes that were neither sad nor happy, he gave her a very heavy nod. As if accepting everything she had ever said, and ever would say, all in that one movement. "I am simply the product of my parents love, the instruction of friends, siblings, and Lady Nature. She treats us all harshly, but equally, and for the beauty we are given I often give her thanks. Few others do." Lifting his eyes in a way that barely moved his head, he looked up at the sky in the mournful manner of one who has lost a child.

It began to rain.

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Strangely enough, Rochelle began to feel somewhat violated. She felt as if this wolf could look into her every emotion, thought, and even her very soul. Looking at her paws again, blood began to rush to her face. It had been a while since she had been embarrassed or uncomfortable, but Riniad seemed to know just a bit too much about her. It was as if he could read her mind, or something similar. As the wind picked up, she continued to stare at her damp paws, which had been kneading the ground for quite some time.

When she gathered the courage to look up at him again, she cautiously guarded her thoughts. "How are you in my head, and yet so... kind? So gentle?" Thankfully, he was looking up, giving her a brief chance to take him in without meeting his eyes. "I feel the same, sir. Lately it seems as if every wolf I know has lost their faith. I only wish they could be presented with evidence that something more powerful exists."

As her words came, so did the first droplets of rain. It wasn't like they would affect her much, seeing as she was already rather wet from her swim in the lake. However, seeing as she was drying steadily and the wolf in front of her seemed to have no intentions of leaving, she glanced around her. "Perhaps we should go to a place more heavily sheltered?"