Welcome to Gaia! ::

Senka relished the feel of her paw pads digging into fresh, rich earth as she kept her steady lope through the forest. The air was filled with the heady scents of green growing things and the recent rain. Songs of birds that she had never heard before graced her ears and though she noticed no signs of game, Senka was not too concerned, for her belly was still full from last night’s hunt. In all, it seemed to be an utterly serene morning in the forest. Still, Senka remained attuned to her surroundings, ever vigilant for any sign of other predators in the area, for she was treading in unfamiliar territory. Senka was, in fact, already several weeks’ worth of travel away from her pack’s territory and she had no intention of returning in the immediate future.

Perhaps she was not a seer, to know what the future holds, or a shaman, whose ally was nature itself, but she was the storyteller. She had learned all the lore and legends of her pack and held all the wisdom that has been passed down through the ages. It did not hurt that Senka was also just as proficient in battle as the rest of her formidable pack. A little over a month ago had marked the beginning of her journey, her test as a storyteller. Senka had left her pack’s territory and ventured out into the world alone, as was tradition. It was to her to live or die. If, with all of the pack’s wisdom to guide her, she could not manage to survive on her own, she did not deserve the title of storyteller. Another would be trained in her place. If, however, she did live, she would no longer be in training: she will have earned the title of storyteller and will enjoy that important position in her pack.

Senka did not intend merely to survive. She intended to flourish. She would meet other wolves and packs and learn about them. She would come to understand their ways. Eventually, when she returned to her own territory, she would not simply be the keeper of her own pack’s impressive history. She would be able to recount tales of outsiders, as well. Senka was not entirely certain that the elders would approve, but they did not hold sway over the storyteller’s duties. What purpose was there to this journey if not to discover more about the world, to learn about others? So she would learn from the world, just as she had learned from her pack, and she would be a better storyteller for it.

Really, Senka felt that she was doing quite well. She had managed to keep herself well-fed, only going hungry once. She had not angered any other packs. She had even managed to avoid serious injury so far. Content with her survival skills, she now wanted to learn, to discover how others lived. It was time to seek out more wolves and given the various scents that she caught, it seemed that she was in the right place.

Senka was drawn out of her reverie when her nose caught a much fresher scent than the others she had noticed. A few moments later, her ears twitched with interest as she heard she distinct sounds of an approaching wolf. A wolf who was headed her way. Who would she meet? Would they be cordial or would they attack right away? Did they run with a pack or wander the lonely road? Senka was curious. She wanted the story of this unknown wolf. Hopefully, she would not be forced to defend herself. It would be such a waste to have come across a wolf in this peaceful forest only to leave without a new story. Then again, she mused, a good battle is always worth retelling. Either way, Senka concluded that she would come away from the encounter with at least some small thing worth her effort.

That settled, she slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether when she caught a glimpse of the approaching…ram? Bemused, Senka blinked and cocked her head as she waited for the creature to come closer. When the figure rounded a bush, she could see that it was not, in fact, a ram with wolf paws, but a wolf in sheep’s skin. A brief grin flashed across her maw. How clever. The strange wolf was clearly aged, yet she moved with the grace of one half her age and her yellow eyes were sharp and clear. Studying the she-wolf before her, Senka came to the conclusion that this was going to be a very interesting encounter, whatever the outcome.

Pleased, Senka straightened up and nodded slightly, keeping her ruby eyes on the sheep-clad wolf. “Greetings,” she said when she wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. “I am Senka. I pass through these lands on my journey. Who do I have the honor of meeting?” Just because the she-wolf chose such a strange disguise, it didn’t mean that Senka couldn’t exercise her manners. Besides, she found that politeness generally helped smooth things over. She wanted this wolf’s story.

Senka watched the she-wolf carefully as she circled her. The storyteller may be rather laidback by nature, but she was no fool. She was ready for an attack if it came, though the sheep-clad wolf’s body language did not suggest such an attack was imminent. The grin confirmed her assessment: though it was not particularly reassuring, neither did it hold deliberate malice. Senka relaxed slightly, though her warrior’s training did not allow her to be completely at ease. Thus, she kept her eyes on the she-wolf, for she was very close and could easily change her mind and strike before Senka had a chance to react if she wasn’t careful.

Senka noted with interest that the older wolf’s eyes flashed brilliant yellow just before she began speaking. From the first, it was clear that the she-wolf was playing with her. That was fine. She was also being rather mocking: annoying, but tolerable. It did not escape her attention that the wolf had failed to introduce herself, but that could wait, for now. Then the she-wolf came closer. So close that Senka could feel their fur brush, feel the she-wolf’s breath tickle her ear. “These lands you walk are home to beasts, bloodthirsty and vengeful,” the sheep-clad wolf said. “These lands belong to the Reign of Terror.”

That got her attention. The name was a little flamboyant, but perhaps it was well-earned and not presumptuous at all. Had she, by pure happenchance, strayed into the dragon’s den? Did such fierce wolves truly dwell here? Did the she-wolf include herself in that assessment? Certainly, she was no ordinary beast. Were the others like her? Perhaps more prone to violence? Perhaps less sane? What lives had they led to bring them to such a state?

Suddenly, she felt that the mockery was more than tolerable. If it was the price she had to pay to tread on such ground, she was perfectly willing to pay it. After all, one could not expect a dragon to be affable and accommodating. Senka grinned inwardly, even more determined to explore this territory and its meet its inhabitants. What tales they could tell! Her kindled curiosity lit a fire in her eyes as she turned to address the she-wolf. They ended up nearly muzzle-to-muzzle, though Senka did not particularly mind.

“I find that I am ignorant of this pack,” she said rather calmly. “Would you tell me of them?”