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[ooc; Open to Nhu, Canaan, Indra, and Tibet. Achilles may join too if he would like!]

When Church blinked open his eyes for the first time that morning, what he noticed right away was that he could breathe through his nose. He laid there for a second, perplexed at this discovery, and tested it out… breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. It was true. Oh, happy day! He never realized how much he had taken that ability for granted until he was lying on the floor of the den, riddled with illness and mouth hanging open like a simple-minded barbarian as he sucked in oxygen.

Every other symptom was gone as well.

The dark-colored male climbed to his paws, gold eyes narrowing as he realized he felt better than he had indays. Curious. The sickness had struck him all of a sudden, and he had been a mess of chills, difficulty breathing, joint aches, nausea and vomiting, and hazy mental states. Most wolves might have panicked and made their way to an herbalist, but he recognized the symptoms of a flu—especially for a wolf his age—right away. He immediately went to work making sure he would be okay; no need to bother anyone else and risk getting them sick as well. If he was the first in the valley to get the flu this year, he would make sure it ended with him too. With that attitude in mind, he went to work: he gathered some food, made sure he was hydrated, and gathered all the herbs he’d need to manage his symptoms. It was difficult, but he knew it would only get harder as the sickness progressed. He knew what to expect and how to take care of himself. His prognosis? To be clear in three days.

His body disobeyed in ways it wasn’t supposed to. The herbs did nothing they should have. The illness progressed in patterns he’d never seen. It did not make sense. He knew how to handle this, and it wasn’t working; when he complained about this a passerby friend on day 3—how kind they were, bringing him food!—the other chalked it up to mere chance. “Sometimes things just do not work”. The conversationalist in him had flashed a friendly smile, a nod, and a thank you—he was in no state to teach today—but the scientist in him rebelled. There were many situations where chance played a role, of course he knew that, but there were many more situations that followed the laws and rules of the world. When it came down to the nitty-gritty, even chance had patterns and rules it had to follow. Specific herbs always managed certain symptoms, and those same herbs should consistently react the same way in the same body. He knew his own body and he knew the valley’s flora… so he SHOULD have been able to overcome this cold. There was only one explanation.

This sickness was something else. It could only have been the will of the Rosa.

When he resigned to that thought on day five… Churchill laid down on the floor of the den and decided to let whatever was attacking his body run its course. If that course was not to be changed, he would not waste his energy fighting the inevitable. If there was some lesson to be learned in this, something the Holy Trinity was trying to teach him, he hoped he would find it soon. He was too old to be put through his paces like this.

When he opened his eyes this morning, he had found no answers. There was no rhyme or reason to greet him like he had expected… just the ability to breathe through his nose again—which he did, deeply, every time he thought about it—and someone at the mouth of his den. 

”Ah, welcome, welcome!” Church called, eyes narrowing as he tried to make out the figure standing at the entrance of his home. The sunlight blurred the edges of his vision, making it impossible to see who was there, and despite being able to breathe again, his nose wasn’t quite up to speed just yet."Could we perhaps speak outside? I haven’t been well as of late… only very recently been feeling better! I wouldn’t want you getting sick coming in here.”

It was a very quiet afternoon. A light fog shrouded the land in mystery, hiding much of the sky and sun above. Not a single blade of grass moved, swayed, or twitched in the cool air. All was still and silent. 

Ivaylo toiled up a slope leading onto open moorland covered in tough, stringy grass and clumps of gorse. But there wasn't much else. She took her time taking it all in, gazing back and forth across the landscape. How different this place was from her home back in the forest. She relaxed for a moment, revelling in the open sky and the smell of life in the motionless air. Light snowflakes were falling, dappling her pelt. She shivered. At least there was no wind. She turned her head to examine the mountains to the west, stark against the sky like a row of snaggly teeth. That must be why, she thought to herself.

As she continued onward, she could see the scenery becoming more green and dense, and she nearly lost all track of herself just enjoying the sight of it all. This was wonderful. On her journey, she had seen many different types of places. All of them vastly different from the last. This was the only area she didn't feel nervous walking into. She stopped in her tracks, putting her thoughts to a pause. Beyond the fog, she could just make out the outline of something in the distance that stretched far both left and right. She squinted her eyes, lowering herself to the ground and slowing her pace. It was a wall.

Her eyes widened as she noticed the skulls adorning the entrance, the scents of other wolves flooding her nose. Fuck! This wasn't it. This wasn't what she wanted. She straightened up, swinging her head this way and that to look for a place to take cover. She didn't want to stick around to find out who had a thing for these sorts of knick knacks. There was nothing but clear open grass and sandpits surrounding her. She whimpered, backing away. 

No! No fear, not now. Ivaylo pounded her scarred paw against the ground, her breath heaving as she attempted to get a hold of her anxiety. Someone would notice her eventually. She had to make a good first impression, but she warned herself to be cautious. This was the first pack she had come across, after all. Without knowing any better, she gradually began walking forward again, deeper into the lands drawing closer and closer to the wall. She would soon be made to look like a fool for doing so, as always.


edit; i'm sorry i made a mistake about the territory and didn't realize, if anyone wants me to change it i will! but if not we'll just say Iv was too distracted and didn't realize she walked past the borders :')

Byakko was starting to feel his age now. Resting with Rapture sleeping between his large paws, the oldster sighed. The ruination of his left face twinged a bit as phantom pain brought to him memories of how it had happened. Looking down at his oldest granddaughter, Byakko knew in his heart he wasn't going to be around to see Akutan and Kyra have their own pups. Things were changing again, albeit not on the surface, but most of it good. He was just very tired and while fortunes were changing for the better where his nephew...no, his son, were concerned, Byakko felt depressed. While a side of him still longed to see his beloved Silverstream and his family who had gone before, the thought of what he would leave behind made the once-proud and strong Fringe Dire ache. Or maybe the long years from being separated from Silverstream were finally catching up to him.

He loved Raka dearly. She wasn't a replacement goldfish for the beautiful silver and grey dire that had stolen Byakko's heart when he first arrived in Nardir's previous forest but the old man had to admit that he never quite got over her. Then there was the loss of his mother when he was much younger, followed by X's death years later. Then Starfire having all the problems that led her to give up on life and Storm following her. Byakko was also wrestling with his failures with Aylie. While the failure was on the Clan as a whole, the monochrome Fringe felt the heaviest responsibility for Starfire's death knowing that he didn't intercede to correct Aylie as he should have. Then Aylie also had her differing views on how the Clan and Nardir should work. Her being let back in without any visible improvement confused Byakko as much as it did Ticonderoga. He didn't see how that made any sense. Sighing and giving his granddaughter's white hair a lick, Byakko just watched the rest of the pack going about their lives since the quake. His family hadn't returned to their copse of trees but Akutan had run some recon and it seemed the den area were a loss. A tree had toppled and managed to break the family boulder in two, which Byakko took as a sign of upheaval to come.

"I wonder if I'll survive this." he mused.

Days came, days went. A silent song carried on the wind as it bellowed past trees in between their angled naked branches, and the cold sent shivers like ripples throughout Ivaylo's body, harmonizing with the creaks and whistles of the forest. She gritted her teeth and pushed through, trudging on with strong front paws. She hoped wherever she ended up would be less windy. She disliked the cold, but she could tolerate it as long as there was no wind. She pictured a forest, much like this one, with the same dead and lifelessness that she had experienced, but no wind. She attempted to smile, but growled furiously as another gust sent her fur flying upwards and burrowing its way under her skin. She was freezing. She was becoming too angry to continue. She needed to find shelter.

Ivaylo glanced around, taking in every detail she could find surrounding her. She kicked up a hefty amount of soil and relieved herself nearby a tree. She wanted to be sure that she would never get lost. She had already been lost for weeks, and she had just now came out of it. She wasn't sure exactly what kind of state she was in back then... Something terrifying and hopefully she will never have to revisit it again. Losing her family was hard enough on her. Then she spent weeks just torturing herself emotionally, mentally, physically. But now she was thinking somewhat clearly, she has fed herself enough, and her wounded paw was healing magnificently. She stopped for a moment to check on it. It looked very fleshy and ugly, but it wasn't stinging or bleeding anymore. She had to take that as a good sign. 

She stumbled upon a small cave in the side of a hill enclosed by trees. She hurried inside, shaking off tiny snow droplets that still clung to her. Finally, a place where she can warm up. But of course, she was not alone. She froze, sniffing the air, then turned to face the deep end of the cave where darkness shrouded. She couldn't see anyone or anything, but she could feel eyes on her. She could always feel the eyes.

"Hidalgo?" she called out, hoping to be correct but not really expecting much. "Sveyn?" Nothing. Well, it was a long shot. Those were the only two "friends" she knew of. She began to notice that her brother's name was the last to come to mind when she realizes that she isn't alone. She growled, shaking her head.

"Well, whoever you are, leave me alone. I'm leaving soon so you can share this space while I'm here." She plopped down on her haunches, her back facing the outside of the cave. Whoever, or whatever, was hiding in the dark, she wouldn't miss it. She fidgeted her paws in the dirt, anxious to see whether this would be her first fight or possibly another friend.