Her stomach grumbled, like an angry thunder cloud threatening a torrent of rain. The winter, thus far, had been cold and harsh and unforgiving, and her world seemed a bit more claustrophobic than it ever had. The absence of her brother had affected her in a particularly strong manner, with no one to speak to, she had... retreated. It was not her mother's fault that she would be left without company, in lieu of any prey within the pack the woman had to travel further. Today was one such day- hopefully, this time, Ehiyeh would return with food more than just a few days' worth. Adonai headed towards the sea now, hoping that the crashing waves would settle the buzzing of her thoughts, and perhaps distract from her cramping stomach.
Her paws were delicate upon the cold sand, body coiled as if ready to spring forward or away at a moment's notice. The girl was not typically flighty, but hunger made everyone's tempers flare, and she was cautious enough to recognize that the wolves of Glorall might not be entirely friendly these days. Adonai, though she resented admitting it, was incredibly lonely. The days seemed to stretch endlessly with little variation, and with her mother now elsewhere, healing from whatever ailment had befallen her, it left little in the way of company she could be close to easily. Distant family filled these lands, but she could not help feeling as though she was an outcast. It, perhaps, was not an entirely negative thing; it allowed her to view others from someplace else where they could not touch her.
There was a certain sort of disassociation in her movements, as if her brain did not know what her body was doing- she was ghostlike. She struggled with viewing things as having inherent negativity, her thoughts more objective and unassuming, and perhaps that was what caused her loneliness to feel less crushing and more contented.
The sea, it seemed, was not alone on this day. Adonai's nostrils flared as she approached the other woman, her muzzle buried deep in one of the small clams that often washed up on the shore. Desperate times called for desperate measures, she supposed, although the effort of removing the insubstantial sustenance from the small creatures seemed to be disparate from the amount of nutrition one would get from them. In any case, the actions of the other female made her curious enough to approach, along with her scent being vaguely familiar.
The use of her most familiar tongue was a test, of sorts, to see if scent could lie about familial ties. If she was met with confusion, Adonai would reply in turn, but she at first always settled on what she felt most comfortable speaking.
