All your dirty secrets preserved in formeldehyde ,
From the cradle to the grave, now no one will be saved!
It would seem as though her southern counterpart had the jump on her as far as establishment. Jaidah had been out doing her part, finding wolves around this land that matched her in mind and will, wolves of particular talents and strengths. So far, she has nothing, shadows are hard to catch after all. Though she knows she will find them, all the flowers will come to her. A gardener of Moladion is what she seeks to be, purging the weakness from the land in a dark wave of sudden chaos and terror. Her wolves would train for it, hunger for the rivers of red that would follow. She could stand it no longer. This weakness she saw everywhere. Her paws take her across the border once more, stopping to make her mark in the golden sea she claims as home. With a shiver, Jaidah stands, moving on towards the hills and the bay beyond.
Her motions halt, however, as a different scent comes to her on the breeze. It is delicate, like lilacs blooming in spring, and has a faint cloak of death about it that made Jaidah smile. Female then, to smell of such a flower. What caught her full attention was the scent of dominant male that clung along with the salt. She had passed from Glorall then, Jaidah had taken her time to learn the smells of each pack, and the beach-side pack was one that she could easily pick out. The male's scent had been strong, though tinged with blood as her own were, a fresh victor as well, though perhaps he had a few weeks on the ivory beast of the fields. With a huff, Jaidah turns back toward her border, not wishing to make a possible olive branch wait. Sprinting toward the other, Jaidah halts a few feet away, simply staring at the stark beauty of the wolf before her.
Suddenly, Jaidah is on her border in a few proud steps, the scab upon her back leaking once again. With a huff, the white queen puts on a smile, her child-like lyrics floating toward the other wolf. "Hello, there, traveler. How may I help you today?" She asks in a delightful tone of voice, her alabaster tail waving in the air. She waits for a response, wondering just what the ocean pack could want with her own.
mistress, five, 35in/150lbs, no one held down, no one captivated,
created widow & gehenna (x Reaver),
Night Mother of Asteraia
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