fourteen - no heart - Heyel's soul - Spirane
sister of warlow, dam of none
this is her in blackouts

Much has kept her mind busy, the thoughts churning over and over with an incessant quality that drives her to the brink of madness. That itch within her soul has grown to something more encompassing than she has ever known. It leaves a gnawing hole within her that demands to be filled. Her claws press into the soft topsoil, raking across the new shoots that dare make such an ascent, and her body sways with the precarious need to do something yet nothing is to be found. She had arisen this morning on the slopes of Spirane, tucked in the comforting den she has possessed these last two years with Sven, and she had left his sleeping form with a delicate lick to his cheek - not that he'd even care - and took off in a desperate flight down the mountain side. Running was a relief to the unknown that bothered her. Nothing beat the feel of her muscles burning and aching as she stretched her body out as far as it would go, snapping her legs back in, and eating up the ground.

Natu never needed much grooming. The wind was a fine-toothed comb through her soft strands of white hair. It snatched any foreign object from the twines of the furs and tossed them behind her as a miniscule sort of trail. She didn't care, so immersed in the freedom of movement, letting the pounding of air in her ears drive away all those pesky thoughts that plagued her. She had lived the majority of her life as a traveler. Since the death of her mate and children, an unbearable burden at one time, nothing could sooth the confines of her solemn soul until she reached Moladion. Here she had seen fit to set down her travelers feet on the mountainside, for the slopes gave her what she desired. Inclusion and seclusion, peace and companionship. She could mourn to the echos of the peaks while heal just the same.

Upon coming to a stop her body hummed with residual energy and that is where she stands now; consumed once more by the endless possibilities, her body feeling as light as a fallen leaf. She expects that the wind should pick her up and carry her to her destination, to fate, to destiny. But it already had, in a sense, for she had found the other half who bound her soul. Heyel was a perplexing (and quite vexing) creature. There could never be more than a friendship between them, but she had found to her surprise that Heyel was the sort of friend from whom she could learn much and could share those secret parts of herself with. She had not found the bond she had once had, that tender bond of love, though she felt an affection for Sleekwing. Likely it could burgeon into something more if they both let it, but only time would tell.

It is as she stands with her body braced upon claw points that she catches the sound of voices floating on the wind. Snatches of masculine tones that cannot be placed inside her head with any sense and she turns her maw in their direction. Distinctly different scents, none of which are familiar to her. For a moment she debates whether to leave the ephemeral state that she is in to meet four males. A precarious position she would be in if they were not of a friendly sort. She can smell no foul stench of Iromar upon the breeze, not that those wolves are the only ones with a taste for violence and cruelty, but they are close by. It would only be a matter of minutes before they could scent her or even see her, for her bright white body is a beacon in the forest of green and bark.

Finally her lips open and a silent sigh escapes as her drifting mind seems to come back down to earth and her light body settles firmly onto the soil. Natu is not a large wolf, but her body is lined with healthy muscle. She is not scrawny despite weighing only 112 pounds and there is a wary sort of elegance about her. Without conscious thought she drifts towards the group of males, weaving betwixt the trees with the ease of one much traveled, and her pale blue eyes catch sight of them within moments of her walk. They are all of such vastly different colors as the other yet there is a union that connects them.

She pauses in the outskirts of their group, eying them calmly, knowing one or all are bound to notice her presence. "Are you all brothers, then?" It is the only thing that comes to mind as she watches them; it is clear the cream colored wolf holds the authority. With each minute movement of his body the rest seem to spin like a force of gravity. Natu's voice is a sweet, dulcet sound though her question has no air of innocence, just a wary sort of curiosity.