Moonstill

The Autumnal chill had settled deep into the mountains already; the hardy birch trees had begun to shed their leaves in preparation for the inevitable Winter to come. The first snows were still some time away yet, but there was a frenzied business amongst most denizens of the forest as all creatures great and small began to hoard food.

Wrought into a steep incline close to an ancient, tall linden was a deep den of earth and stone. There is a latent energy to this place; it is the primordial calm brought about by the sight of a slumbering weald. As you approach, your fur stands on end - two pairs of eyes suddenly appear in view before you from the depths of the cave's darkness. You hear the faint sound of the whining of young pups. The eyes stare at you, unblinking. You can't help but feel the tiniest prick of worry within your chest - you've trespassed into an unknown pack's territory.

Gliding forth from the shadows like a wraith comes a small female, with black-and-brown fur. Her eyes are an unnatural shade of burning violet that seems to glow brightly. She does not appear overtly aggressive, but there is a clear sense of unnerving focus to her, and it bores into you. Her presence feels intimidating; far larger than her actual size. There is a slight throaty growl from the cave, the other presence unmoving from its place in the darkness of the lichen-crusted cave.

"What business have you here?" The female asks, her tone cuttingly sharp, but not necessarily discourteous. Her words appear quite accented - nothing like the other wolves you've met before.

You begin to explain yourself, careful not to show any signs of aggression, lest it start a confrontation. Whilst you were confident in your own abilities, this was still unfamiliar territory, and you did not doubt other members of this pack were nearby.

The femaile ponders for a moment, coldly regarding you. She drags her gaze painstakingly over every inch of your form, as if assessing you. "I see. I am Reiði, and this is the territory of the Moonstill pack. I am its leader." She explains. An uptick of breeze carries the scent of pups from within the den; they smell like Reiði, and another, unknown scent. Perhaps the other presence within the cave? It begins makes sense why she appears somewhat standoffish; not only have you crossed into their land, she is currently nursing. You relax a fraction, somewhat more comfortable in the knowledge that the Moonstill are not simply a hostile pack.

"And from whence do you hail?" Reiði probes, quizically tilting her head.

You answer her, and she nods thoughtfully.

"Well met." The she-wolf gives a slight twitch of her ears. From the den stalks a large russet male, with bright green eyes. He moves to stand beside Reiði, his flank pressed lightly against hers. You guess that this must be her mate. "If you mean no harm, we welcome you to rest a while. What is your name?"

You agree that you mean no harm, and you tell her your name. She wags her tail in friendly acknowledgement.

"Welcome." Speaks the male, sharing in the same strange accent as Reiði. "You can rest by the stones. Our herbalist shall prepare some revitalising herbs for you, traveller."

With that statement, the russet male slips away, presumedly to alert the pack's herbalist to your presence. Reiði inclines her head towards a circle of large, ancient stones nearby. They are thickly covered in moss, and there appears to be some strange carvings upon the surface that you do not recognise. The two of you walk over to them, and settle down in a patch of sun bleeding through the canopy of the mountainous weald. Reiði regards you with an unreadable gaze; she is still somewhat unnerving, even when her demeanour has relaxed. She feels... ethereal.

"So, tell me, traveller... tell me of your pack, and your home. We value stories here, and I would hear yours."

Basking in the warmth of the sun as it soothes your aching joints, you begin your story.