Quote:The sky was terribly open. Vast, eternal, and expansive. It was an eternal reminder of her smallness, of the lack of undeniable brilliance they carried as wolves, as living creatures. Here, upon the ground, they were finite. Life was not promised to them, it never had been, and even during her tenure as Gigantea she had known the undeniable truth that blood and bone were merely weak materials used to give power to the spirit. It was her spirit, tonight, that was caught ablaze and moving her forward. It was the rolling constant thumping of her being and the whispered secrets that reflected off the moon that caused her to splash and stomp her way through the flowing waters that spilled at the waterfall’s base. Not that she was trying to be quiet, no. The behemoth of a wolf held no reason or want for silence. What she wanted…

--Was the flickering gems that caught her gaze, the sparkling green that seemed to litter the water bed that she swam through. Where did they come from, exactly? She had her assumptions, some powered by the stench of something odd, sulfur was it? Smoky? It triggered a phantom memory, caused haunted wails to traverse her mentality, and then it was gone.

Alas, the memories of her godhood had no place here anyway. She had become so much more than she’d been previously, more in self than anything else.

So she swam and she huffed, invigorated by the chilling bite of the waters and the splashing sound of the falls as she approached. There was something so terribly tranquil about watching her reflection and bulk part the mirror image of the half-formed moon and stars above, but she wasn’t there to wax poetic romanticism. She was there to discover.

And discover she did. With barely any hesitation she would shove forward, grunting as her paws began to hit sand and rock right as the falls beat upon her body. The weight of it was jarring, but she was quick enough to smoothly pass the spilling waters until she was struck by an openness as vast as the skies that had watched her.

That and the slick odd dusty substance that coated most of the cavern, intersected with black dirty piles that were sprinkled and lined across the floor.

Well then.

With a soft exhale she moved further, embraced by a bit of the darkness, but grateful that the mouth of the cave had been illuminated by washed up sparkling gems and twinkling moonlight. It was when she lifted a paw to brush across the white film that covered some of the walls that she paused.

So, what was all of this?

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d i s c o v e r y | z o n e

unlocked: chalk/coal mines

The gate groaned as someone opened it.

Another visitor? Piper looked up from her place in the soil, her paws slathered with muck and grime. “Please make sure the gate latches!” She called back to the orange person, her brow furrowed as she turned her focus to the ground before her. She stirred it up with her claws and stripped it of rocks, roots, and other undesirable items. They went in a pile, which she brushed back with her tail. “May I ask what you want? There’s no meat ready, unless you’re the Dragon.”

Violet eyes sought Caesar’s gaze. “Are you? With the Dragon?” The resemblance was uncanny, but she didn’t know anyone here (well, not true, she met a young man, but did that count?). “It doesn’t matter,” Piper muttered as she continued to make her plot. The ground needed nutrients. When she was sure she’d cleared it, she’d mix in her sheep manure and water. Make a good compost with the leaf rot all around them. This would be perfect for all of her needs.

Well, Alteron’s needs.

“Can I help you with something?” The hellion asked as she paused, and waited.

The Dragon spread its wings and let her see past the red, through the foggy veil that clung to the forest floor. ‘There, darlin’.’ That southern drawl held so much promise the slender woman could not help but follow, submit to the wolf’s order, and obey. This is how she found herself surrounded by stone hewn walls, and lesser animals. Her flock pranced in the green, eating to their heart’s content, playing, simply existing. They weren’t afraid or leery of their surroundings, and she felt warm happiness curl in her chest. It was a wonderful sight, and she couldn’t help but muse if her master appreciated her efforts. Yes, they’d suffered losses (Tortuga’s flames a bitter memory), but they’d flourish now. His children would live and die as they should, and provide the wares she’d need to earn her keep.

Their bones could be boiled for the marrow and crushed for ink. Their skins would be tanned, and the wool woven into fine things. The goats provided milk for abandoned babes, and simple meats. Meats she could dry, or even spice over a flame. There were simply so many possibilities in Alteron that Piper would forever be indebted to Azuhel. No one else would hold her attention, but the Red Dragon.

That was enough for today though. She had work to do. The hellion rose from her place on a large, flat boulder. It was high enough to let her survey the walled kingdom, but not so much that it was precarious. She landed daintily on her paws, her long coat swaying in the wind as she approached the llama. Gnork glared at her, but allowed her to reach in his satchel for her tools. They were crude, but effective, and the sheep needed shearing. Piper danced away as Gnork spat at her, grumbling as he rose to his cloven hooves and bounced away. His ears pinned back, but he settled only a few feet away; grazing, but watchful. Her private sentinel. He might not like her or appreciate her, but the flock would never suffer an attack with him on patrol.

It’s why she put up with his fatass.

Piper trotted to the wide stream that flowed through the pen. It was deep enough that it reached her elbows, but that was a good thing. She looked to her flock and let out a series of low barks, similar to how a lion would call it’s young. The animals milled around, but eventually formed a line. The lambs and kids, however, continued their silly games. She didn’t mind. They were too young to be sheared, and she was afraid the damp weather would make them sick. The shaggiest ewe approached with a sad sound, carefully wading into the water with droopy ears. “I know, I know,” The hellion cooed as she stroked the animal’s nose. “Don’t worry!” She chirped, humming a lullaby as she scrubbed the sheep down. She made sure to reach good and deep, picking out burrs and other plant matter from the wool.

Once she was sure the sheep was mostly clean, she led the soggy sponge from the stream onto the shore. “It’s okay, baby,” She whispered to the downcast ewe, gripping her shears. The rudimentary tools did the trick as she carefully peeled away the wool. The process was slow, and she was lucky the sheep trusted her so much. Careful now, ca- The sheep suddenly bleated and bucked. Piper dropped the shears to keep from cutting it, grabbing the frightened thing with her paws. “Hey, hey! What’s the-?” She turned her head, following the wide-eyed stare. Someone entered the pen. Someone came inside, and could have potentially ruined the wool by staining it with blood. She curled her lip, growling, “Please be careful! I could have hurt her!” She scowled at the person, and then went to work soothing the poor thing.

Once the ewe settled down the hellion picked up the shears, and continued her good work. It’d still take time. “Is there something I can help you with?” Piper called back over her shoulder. She glanced to the left. Gnork was watching. His ears were pointed forward, and he no longer grazed. One wrong move from the newcomer, and they’d get daggered in the face. Llamas weren’t afraid of anything.

Especially wolves.