[Batzorig]

    He tracked through the tropics, eyes down, careful of his step. Rough directions he followed, trying to find the Crafter he heard of. He'd done well defending the pack, served dutifully and kept to himself otherwise; a bit of reward was deserved. (Encouraged-- loudly, by those few he kept company with.)
    Eventually (or inevitably), he caught whiff of wolf, and a glance up from his own paws revealed this was the one he was looking for. "... Hello," the lion started self-consciously. "Are you Aysu?"

[Aysu.]

'I can't deny I'm paralysed from the inside
Everyday I wake to feel the same
And every time you ask me how I'm feeling
I just smile and tell you that I'm fine '

"speech" | thoughts

 
To say Aysu was in hiding would be a good observation and a fair statement. Not in a literal sense, she was still living in the same place, walking the beaches in search of items to make into jewelry, bowls, dyes, and the like, but she found herself avoiding most everyone since... she inhaled shakily, turning her face to the sun.

She closed her bi-colored eyes to the brightness of the light, feeling the warmth of it on her fur, smelling the salt air of the sea. Raikov was gone. Long gone. Dead. She knew it and yet she found herself running from it instead of accepting it. Losing Brielle to an unknown fate was hard enough to deal with but she couldn't yet look in the face of the truth of Raikov's death. Yes, his son had been one of the ones to take over when he left, but she had no real ties to him. It felt so strange to just be a Crafter and Navigator once more, leaving behind the sense of station she got from sitting at his side.

Aysu turned when she heard her name, setting her paws in the sand as the lion approached her. Wow, he's a big boy, she thought, tilting her head. Her black headscarf fluttered in the breeze, obsidian dagger swinging against her tattooed chest. "I am. Can I help you?"