( ooc: hoping to get some interaction with both Tianlong and Dusk Oasis wolves, she’s just lonely. Can be positive or negative! )



The ocean was considerably less impressive the second time around.

Not unimpressive, exactly. Kiva wasn’t sure anything that large could ever become entirely ordinary, but Dreamsend Shores had already given her ample opportunity to stare at an unreasonable amount of water. She had learned the rhythm of waves rolling toward land, the sharpness of salt carried upon the wind, and, through one regrettable experiment, that seawater tasted absolutely terrible.

The cliffs, however, were new. Kiva slowed as the ground ahead of her disappeared. “Oh.”

Far below, waves battered themselves against jagged boulders, white water curling violently between them before being dragged back toward the open sea. In several places the water seemed to twist upon itself, forming patterns Kiva couldn’t quite make sense of from above.

A pebble shifted beneath her forepaw. She stepped backward immediately. “Nope.”

There were plenty of things Kiva was willing to die for; strangely enough, curiosity had never made the list. She gave the edge a considerably wider berth after that, continuing along the coastline with the drop safely several lengths away.

Traveling like this should have felt familiar. Sometimes it did. There were mornings in Mythris when Kiva woke beneath an unfamiliar tree and, for those first hazy moments between sleep and consciousness, nothing seemed particularly wrong. She had slept away from Wind Haven countless times before. A messenger could hardly insist upon returning to her own den every evening.

Back then, she would wake, shake the leaves from her coat, determine which direction she needed to travel and continue on.

There had always been somewhere to go, and, eventually, somewhere to return. Kiva hadn’t appreciated how much of her life in Wind Haven had been built from such painfully ordinary things.

Someone was always awake before she wanted to be. Patrols came and went. Hunting parties formed. Wolves argued over things that seemed terribly important for approximately half an hour and were forgotten by dinner. Someone inevitably needed a message carried, herbs collected, another set of paws for some irritating task, or simply company because they were bored. Kiva had been particularly useful for that last one.

She remembered returning from long routes and recognizing home before she ever saw it. The scents came first.

Wolves she knew. Patrol trails she’d crossed hundreds of times. Then landmarks appeared one by one: a crooked tree, a familiar clearing, the stretch of ground that became an absolute disaster whenever it rained. Eventually someone would notice her. Sometimes, she received nothing more than a greeting. Sometimes she was immediately informed of everything she’d missed as though Wind Haven had nearly collapsed during her absence. And sometimes there was someone she had been hoping to see. Kiva had never thought much about any of it. Why would she?

You didn’t memorize ordinary days while you were living them. You didn’t wake every morning grateful that the same wolves were still making the same noises outside.

You didn’t memorize every stupid conversation because someday you might desperately want to hear it again. You simply lived. That had been Wind Haven.

Not Ev’s landslide. Not Alu’s flood. Not even the fire.

Those things had happened there, certainly. They had divided Kiva’s life into pieces she could never quite fit together again. Before Alu, after Alu. Before Ev, after Ev. Before the fire, after. But Wind Haven had existed between those moments. Years of it, to be exact.

Warm afternoons spent sprawled somewhere she absolutely should have been doing something useful. Rainy mornings when leaving shelter felt like a personal insult. Returning from a journey hungry enough to contemplate eating whatever unfortunate creature crossed her path first. Learning exactly who would tolerate being bothered when she was bored and who absolutely would not. Listening to Ev speak, arguing with Ev, pretending she wasn’t listening to Ev and then remembering the advice years later anyway.

Her steps slowed. The wind had changed. Salt remained strongest, but something else traveled beneath it: Wolf. Kiva stopped, eyes narrowing. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Her head lifted automatically, nostrils flaring as an instinct she’d spent years developing slipped neatly back into place. Not one wolf, many.

“Well, hello.” she murmured softly.  She turned slightly inland and tested the breeze again.

The scents overlapped, but not completely. Some trails seemed to disappear toward the lush terrain farther ahead while others pulled elsewhere. Different ages, different directions, enough repetition that this clearly wasn’t the work of travelers merely passing through.

Established wolves. Possibly more than one group. For the first time since arriving in Mythris, Kiva felt something remarkably close to professional competence. This she understood. Wind Haven had possessed neighbors, allies, strangers, and territories where one misplaced paw could create the sort of diplomatic headache nobody wanted. As a messenger, Kiva had learned to read boundaries that existed without walls, marked trees, repeated trails, patrol routes, places where one collection of scents weakened and another began. Once, she had known exactly where those invisible lines were. Now she knew absolutely nothing.

Which was, admittedly, becoming something of a theme. Kiva lowered her nose toward one of the trails and considered following it, then stopped.

She had already managed to wander onto occupied land once because she’d been distracted by pretty flowers. Apparently several years of experience did not protect against being an idiot.

“We’re learning,” she murmured lightly. Rather than continue, Kiva backed away from the trail. Neutral ground seemed considerably wiser. If there truly were established groups nearby, someone would eventually pass through. Patrols still needed to happen. Wolves still hunted. Travelers came and went. They would have routines.

The thought stirred something unexpectedly tender.

Somewhere beyond those unfamiliar scents, wolves were living perfectly ordinary lives. Someone was being woken earlier than they wanted, someone was coming home hungry, someone knew which paths flooded after rain and where to find shade when the day became too warm, someone would leave in the morning and be expected back later.

Once, Wind Haven had been nothing more than unfamiliar scents beyond a border to someone else. To Kiva, it had been everything. She missed it so much. She swallowed and turned her attention firmly back toward the cliffs.

Nope. That thought could remain exactly where it was. There were memories worth examining, and there were others best handled through aggressive avoidance and perhaps a rabbit.

Kiva found herself a reasonably flat patch of earth, safely removed from both the cliff’s edge and whatever invisible boundaries might lie ahead, and settled onto her haunches. The ocean roared below. The wind tugged through her coat. Somewhere nearby, strangers went about lives she knew nothing about.

Kiva waited. After all, there was one thing she remembered particularly well about living near a border. If you sat around looking suspicious for long enough, eventually somebody came to ask what the hell you were doing.

The journey to the south had been long and arduous, farther than the questionable inn he and Vidalia had investigated, and placed in a much warmer climate than Raelan might’ve liked. Still, something joyful moved within him as his paws carried him toward a new destination. A purpose, he realized with quiet clarity, that made him feel good.

Apparently, there was some sort of wedding here that he and Vidalia would be…crashing attending. A good place, he figured, to learn the crowds of Mythris—the packs, the groups, the nomads and rogues. And, if he and Vidalia were lucky enough, an alliance could be made with those in the south.

However, it was in the midst of this journey toward Verdant’s Grace that Raelan had veered elsewhere, parting from the masses of wolves that migrated in droves toward what he believed was the wedding. And before they were able to cross the threshold between neutral and inhabited lands, he had followed the sound of crashing waves—curiosity written plainly across his features.

He had witnessed the north with all of its snow, frost, and ice. They had settled in the ease of their temperate climates, filled with the comfort of a warm breeze, and now he had the sudden opportunity to explore the south. The heat was noticeable, humid and sticky along the darkness of his fur, but the crashing of waves with the balmy wind was a pleasant surprise.

The Knight followed the oscillating sound, inhaling the gentle scent of salt within the wind.

He had thought himself alone, at least for the moment. However, it was through the paleness of his stare that he had caught the silhouette of another, sitting poised atop the earth, as the wind sent hands running through her fur.

He blinked.

Was she one of the wedding attendants?

He had heard this land was controlled by an emperor, and in Raelan’s world, it had not been unfamiliar to have a guide escort them through the territory…

Excuse me, miss. He called out to her as his larger paws approached. Are you a part of the wedding party?

Apparently, Kiva had been correct.

She had expected that eventually someone would notice the unfamiliar wolf sitting conspicuously close to occupied territory and come investigate. It was practically inevitable. Borders attracted questions, and Kiva had positioned herself close enough to inspire them while remaining far enough away that nobody could reasonably accuse her of trespassing.

What she had not expected was for the approaching stranger to be familiar. Her ears turned toward the voice first. Kiva glanced over one shoulder, already arranging something appropriately harmless upon her features, and froze. Oh. It was him. For a moment, she simply stared.

There was no field of unnaturally beautiful flowers surrounding him this time. No strange heaviness pressing itself into her chest, either, no inexplicable grief dragging memories from places Kiva preferred to keep firmly barricaded. Just salt on the wind, the distant roar of the ocean, and the very large dark wolf she’d last encountered while both of them had been having what could generously be described as an absolutely terrible afternoon.

Kiva’s gaze flicked briefly over him. He looked considerably less miserable. Good.

The relief came quickly enough to surprise her. Their previous encounter had been brief, strange, and largely spent under the influence of something neither of them had understood, but she remembered the way his expression had changed among those flowers. Whatever memories they had dragged from him had hurt, and badly.

Apparently, that was enough for some quiet part of her to have wondered what became of him afterward. Naturally, Kiva responded to this realization by immediately making fun of him. Her ears tipped forward. “Oh, good. You’re not close to crying this time.” A few heartbeats passed. Perhaps there were better ways to greet someone. Foot, meet mouth. Oh wait, you’re already very well acquainted.

Kiva considered this possibility very seriously for around half a second before deciding it was far too late now. The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “And there aren’t any suspicious flowers nearby, so I think we’re already doing considerably better than last time.” She guessed she was just digging a deeper hole for herself. Ah well. Only then did his actual question seem to catch up with her. Wedding party?

Kiva blinked, and then her gaze shifted past him as though a wedding might materialize somewhere behind his shoulder if she looked hard enough. There was ocean. Cliffs. Grass. Several distant scents belonging to wolves she had never met.

No obvious brides around. She looked back at him. “There’s a wedding?” The question escaped with enough genuine surprise to immediately answer his own. Kiva straightened slightly from where she’d been sitting, glancing inland once more with renewed interest.

Well. That explained absolutely nothing. “No. Definitely not,” she hummed before her attention returned to Raelan. “Unless weddings here traditionally involve sitting alone near a cliff and hoping somebody eventually comes over to investigate. In which case, apparently I’m doing an excellent job.”

She shifted onto all fours, giving herself a quick shake as the wind pushed her coat in entirely the wrong direction. There was something oddly reassuring about seeing a familiar face, even one she had only met once. Mythris had been filled with strangers since she’d arrived. Every interaction began from nothing: unfamiliar scents, unfamiliar names, unfamiliar histories. Raelan, at least, was only mostly a stranger. That counted for something, didn’t it?

“Kiva,” she added, because she couldn’t actually remember whether they’d gotten as far as trading names before the flowers had decided emotional devastation was a reasonable substitute for conversation. “Ya know, in case we skipped that part while the plants were mentally tormenting us.” Her gaze moved over him once more, more deliberately this time. He really did seem better. She wouldn’t ask. Not yet.

Instead, her expression softened almost imperceptibly beneath the humor. “You look better, by the way.” There. That was sufficiently vague. Before the sentiment could sit between them long enough to become uncomfortable, Kiva promptly ruined it. “Still terrible at identifying wedding guests, apparently, but better.”

Raelan liked to think that he had a careful eye for things, that his memory was as sharp as an elephant’s, and that there was nothing nor no one who could slip by his attention without him knowing. However, in the end, he was only human a wolf.

When the figure before him turned, it had taken him far longer than he would’ve wished to recognize her. Although perhaps that was not entirely his fault either, considering the last time they had met, Raelan had been caught beneath the influence of a rather sad flower.

In fact, it wasn’t until she spoke that it really dawned on him. Enough for the pale silver-blue of his eyes to widen in subtle shock at the words that had tumbled from between her teeth. Outside of the melancholy he had worn that day, he was a…large man. His body was built for strength, his teeth for tearing, and his claws for…shredding. His eyes were as pale as the northern sky, frosty as they often looked roaming cryptically across another. He would’ve liked to think that he looked like a formidable opponent for anyone else who might’ve stumbled upon him. That the knight might’ve been a wolf that others would do their best to avoid had they had any sense…

But this girl?

Kiva, if he recalled the woman’s name correctly, was apparently vastly different than any of the others he had met in this world.

She was blunt, honest, and held a tongue that appeared to work before her mind did.

And after a few tense seconds, Raelan started to chuckle.

No, fortunately, I think my mind may be safe out here. He said it in a whisper, as his eyes furtively scanned the cliffs around them. But if you see a blue flower, he warned, Don’t look at it.

However, the topic of the wedding was a diversion his mind had needed; and when her eyes had cast toward a place behind him, he took his chance to really look at her. She was a beautiful woman—natural by the looks of her fur—with the likeness of the wood in autumn. But she was a loner, he reasoned, not by the sheer emptiness of others across her scent, but by the mere fact that she somehow seemed to be everywhere.

This thought made him chuckle.

Had I not known any better, I might’ve thought you were following me from all the way up north so that you could crash the festivities of these southern wolves. What had they called them? He chuckled, A wedding crasher, as they say.

The Gods only knew that no wolf would be missed within that company; it was as if the entire continent was migrating for the wedding.

Kiva, was it? He rumbled smoothly just as she uttered out her own name. You had the unfortunate…or rather, fortunate—who’s to say—opportunity to meet me at a time when I was not myself. He tried to clarify before rolling his shoulders into an idle shrug.

Perhaps it would be best if I reintroduce myself, he uttered after a beat, as a ghost of a chuckle slipped between his lips. Hello, my name is Ser Raelan Whitewood, Lord Commander of Eastrenhold. He introduced himself with a quietly formed bow as his chin dipped once before rising. And you are Kiva, a woman with…an observant eye.

That was kinder, he thought, than the other titles he might’ve playfully given her.

But as her words softened toward a digestible comment, masked in the humor she seemed to weave with expert craft, his mouth pulled into a shadow of a grin.

As long as there are no blue flowers nearby, I think I’ll be okay. It didn’t help that the south was covered in red suspicious flowers, but Raelan did not give those blooms a lick of his attention this time. Anybody could be a wedding guest, he jested back, better thinking you were one versus a wedding crasher, if you asked me.

The warning about blue flowers earned an immediate, solemn nod from Kiva, as though Raelan had just imparted some valuable piece of survival knowledge rather than confirmed something she had already decided for herself. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve developed a very strict policy regarding suspiciously pretty plants since we last met.” Her gaze swept briefly across the surrounding landscape, narrowing at the scattered red blooms as though they, too, had personally offended her. “Actually, I think I’m expanding it to flowers in general. Pretty ones, specifically. Ugly flowers are probably fine. They’ve got nothing to prove.”

His chuckle drew her attention back toward him, and something about hearing it made the smile already threatening at the corners of her mouth settle more comfortably into place. It suited him considerably better than the expression she remembered from the clearing, when grief had hollowed something out behind those pale eyes and made a stranger’s pain feel unpleasantly familiar. This version of him was different. Lighter, perhaps, although Kiva knew better than most that appearing lighter and actually being so were entirely separate things. Still, she preferred this. She was content to leave the distinction unexplored.

Then he accused her of following him. Kiva’s mouth fell open. The expression of offense that followed was immediate, dramatic, and undermined by the amusement already shining in her eyes. “Following you?” she repeated, one forepaw lifting toward her chest as though the accusation had struck somewhere particularly tender. “All the way from the north? That is an outrageous thing to accuse someone of when we’ve only met once.”

She deadpanned and her next words were delivered with such mock seriousness that she almost lost it. “Obviously I’m stalking you.”

Her paw returned to the earth as she gave him an exceedingly serious look, although the twitch at the corner of her mouth made maintaining it increasingly difficult. “Following makes it sound accidental. Stalking implies commitment, and I would like some recognition for the amount of effort I’ve apparently put into this.” Considering she had managed to encounter the same wolf twice despite possessing very little idea of where she was going on any given day, perhaps the accusation was not unreasonable. Mythris was enormous. Kiva had spent most of her time wandering through it with the confidence of someone who refused to acknowledge that having no destination and being lost were occasionally indistinguishable circumstances.

“Although if I were following you, I’d like it formally noted that you are extremely difficult to keep track of. First more north, now all the way down here. Very inconsiderate of you,” she snorted.

Then came his introduction. Kiva had expected a name. She hadn’t expected a title, or, rather, several of them.

Her brows climbed progressively higher as Raelan continued, and by the time he dipped his head in that quietly formal bow, she was staring at him with the particular expression of someone who had just realized she may have been cheerfully insulting someone considerably more important than anticipated.

“Oh. Oh, you’re fancy.” There was no reverence in the observation whatsoever, but neither was there mockery, not really. If anything, Kiva seemed delighted by the discovery, looking him over again as though perhaps Lord Commander ought to have been visibly written somewhere across all that dark fur and she simply hadn’t noticed it before.

“Ser Raelan Whitewood, Lord Commander of Eastrenhold,” she repeated carefully, testing the collection of words before giving a quick nod. “That is significantly more impressive than what I’ve got.”

She straightened. For one ridiculous moment, Kiva attempted to arrange herself into something vaguely dignified, shoulders squared and chin lifted in an imitation of the formality he had offered her. Unfortunately, dignity had never been particularly interested in cooperating with her.

“Kiva Gaudius. Former messenger and ambassador of Wind Haven. Occasional trespasser. Apparently a wedding crasher? Suspected stalker.”

The solemnity finally cracked, laughter slipping beneath the words as she once again shook herself off. “I feel like you won that introduction.”

Although Lord Commander caught somewhere in the back of her mind after the joke had passed. It was a title that suggested responsibility. Others depending upon him, perhaps, or at least a place where he belonged strongly enough that someone had decided to give him something important to do. Eastrenhold meant nothing to her yet, another unfamiliar name to add to the increasingly ridiculous collection she had accumulated since arriving in Mythris, but she filed it away automatically. Old habits and all that. Names, territories, positions, relationships between groups; once, those things had been the bones of her work. Once, knowing them had mattered. Perhaps they could again.

Her attention returned fully to him when he called her observant, and Kiva stared for half a heartbeat before suspicion slowly crept across her features. “Observant.” She repeated the word like she was examining it for structural weaknesses, drawing it out. “That was diplomatic. On brand for what I’ve noticed about you so far.”

Her eyes narrowed further, though amusement remained visible beneath the scrutiny. “You thought of something worse first, didn’t you?” She leaned forward a little, studying him as though the answer might be hiding somewhere on his face. “Blunt? Nosy? Deeply incapable of keeping thoughts inside her own head?”

That last one received a thoughtful tilt of her head. “Um. Actually, don’t answer that.” Probably safer.

The mention of the wedding rescued him from interrogation, at least temporarily, and Kiva glanced inland again. Now that she knew what all the movement was about, the overlapping scents she had noticed earlier made considerably more sense. Wolves traveling from different corners of Mythris toward the same place, enough of them that Raelan described it as practically the entire continent migrating south. Something curious flickered across her expression.

“So you’re actually going?” she asked, looking back toward him. “To the wedding, I mean. The one you apparently think accepts random women sitting beside cliffs as invited guests.” Her mouth curved. “Because I’m starting to think you might be onto something with this wedding-crasher idea.”

She had no invitation. She didn’t know who was getting married. She didn’t know where, precisely, the wedding was being held, what groups would be attending, whether strangers were welcome, or whether showing up unannounced would result in awkward introductions or being chased halfway back across the continent. Admittedly, none of those things had ever been especially effective deterrents for Kiva. And there was something else, too, something she was considerably less willing to examine: the idea of being surrounded by wolves again. Noise. Conversation. Too many scents layered over one another, strangers coming and going, someone laughing somewhere nearby, perhaps food being passed around and stories exchanged between wolves who would wake tomorrow and continue living their perfectly ordinary lives. The thought hurt. No, the thought sounded wonderful. Kiva’s ears tipped toward Raelan.

“How opposed are you to acquiring a wedding guest? And who’s even getting married? Someone important?”

She was funny, he concluded. A humor that was different than most of those he had meant, but no less comfortable, as his chuckle rumbled through his chest. I think that is an astute assessment you’ve made, he agreed in kind, casting a rueful glance toward the red-coated petals that were scattered before them.

And then a brow would rise comfortably across his features, an ear flicking dismissively atop his crown as he bore down a skeptical gaze toward her own amber eyes. A momentary hum of contemplation reverberated between closed lips as the woman feigned a sort of shock at his words.

For just a moment, he believed her.

Were it not for the corner of her mouth twisting into the curvature of a smile, perhaps her act would’ve stayed believable. But as her next string of words came forth, Raelan leaned into the banter she choreographed with the ease of someone used to wordplay.

Oh, absolutely. In fact, I think you are obligated to receive a title for your craft, he said with a quiet note of amusement, after all this dedication you have put forward in tracking a ghost.

He thought on it for a moment. Kiva the Stalker? He offered in jest, No…that would be too on the nose, I think. And then, Kiva of the Shadows, the Follower of Pawsteps. It sounded royal to his ears, like some decree and title given by a King.

His laughter came next, a hearty chuckle as his ears rotated once more atop his skull in idle amusement. Your inquiry has been formally noted, he said with a dip of his chin. I will bring it up to the council to ensure your habits are far less difficult to maintain. As if there was a council in the first place.

The Commander shrugged. Although a ghost should be difficult to track, I am amazed that you’ve made it this far at all. He joked, Congratulations are in order for finding me after all this time.

His tail shifted into an idle wag as her words came out in that familiar truth he was beginning to appreciate from the woman. He wouldn’t necessarily call himself fancy by any means; he merely was a man of honor and oath, with a track record that could hopefully prove it. But alas, he would not dispel the words that had come from her lips. It seemed fruitless in that moment.

Raelan is fine, he reassured her. Here, I’ve come to learn that titles are not as common as I had once known in my old world.

But when her own list of names came next: messenger, trespasser, wedding crasher, and stalker, his expression seemed to go through a subtle shift, carried on the emotional rollercoaster of her titles. From where they started out as normal… they soon took an exceptionally downward trend.

You’ve got a lot of credentials there, He joked through a rumbled baritone. Some I find myself all the more interested in exploring. He knew of her stalking, he being the source of her playful obsession; the wedding was just around the corner, but the ambassador was interesting, the trespasser even more so.

He filed that thought away for now, hoping to circle back to it in a moment.

It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Kiva Gaudius, former messenger and ambassador of Wind Haven.

And as her words coasted through the brief summer wind, Raelan’s mind churned over the meaning behind her words. Diplomatic, yes, but on brand? He was not sure whether he was being insulted or complimented, although with her it was likely both.

On brand? He said with a modicum of surprise. It was his turn to feign a sort of shock and outrage. But she continued before he could say another word. Blunt, nosy, she said, deeply incapable of keeping thoughts inside her own head. She had said it first; it hadn’t been him! But beyond the ghost of a smile that remained curled at the edge of his lips, Raelan gave nothing away.

You wound me. To think my stalker would believe I would think such things of them, he tutted despondently, a tsk of his tongue clicking in mock disappointment.

It felt good to laugh like this, to joke and banter, without the weight of the world residing atop his shoulders. For however brief it would be, Raelan found himself enjoying the moment.

I am, He admitted with a dip of his chin. As is my Queen and many others, he explained as the merriment of the moment began to slip on by. If you are asking me if you could come along, you needn’t have to be coy about it, Miss Kiva.

His muzzle motioned for the path that lay behind him, to where the scents of many wolves continued to migrate into the forest to their east.

As long as you do not bite or poison or stalk another unassuming man without reason, he started, playful once again even if his tone seemed to hold no room for amusement, You may come along as a member of Eastrenhold, should anybody ask where you had come from.

Despite her alleged accolades, some of which were more positive than most, Raelan did not consider her a threat. If anything, she was merely honest—more so than most. Though I would expect your best behavior, he clarified, I have hope of acquiring an alliance out here.

The Commander began to turn on his heels and started the walk back toward the caravan of moving bodies all headed in the direction of the Emperor’s wedding. You coming? He called back out to the woman, I will tell you more about them as we walk.

After all, it would be a terribly bad look if he were to be late to the wedding of a Southern Emperor.

Kiva had been prepared for several possible responses to her alleged stalking. Encouragement had not been one of them. Her ears tipped forward as Raelan considered the matter with entirely too much seriousness, and by the time he arrived at ‘Kiva of the Shadows, Follower of Pawsteps’, she was staring at him with open delight. “Oh, that’s terrible. But, I love it.”

She drew herself up, chin lifting with exaggerated importance. “Although ‘Follower of Pawsteps’ makes me sound less like a skilled stalker and more like I’ve gotten terribly lost and am hoping whoever I’m following knows where they’re going.” Her expression faltered. “Actually, never mind. That’s remarkably accurate.”

The mention of a council only encouraged her. “Good. Please tell them I expect regular updates regarding your whereabouts. Maps would be preferable. Perhaps an itinerary.” She nodded solemnly. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.” She didn’t, actually. His congratulations earned a soft snort, though the word ‘ghost’ lingered strangely. Kiva let it pass. There were enough ghosts between the two of them already without inviting another into an otherwise pleasant afternoon. And this was pleasant. Kiva had almost forgotten how easy conversation could be when neither participant was being psychologically assaulted by flowers.

“Raelan, then,” she agreed when he dismissed the titles, although the amusement in her eyes suggested Ser Raelan Whitewood, Lord Commander of Eastrenhold would absolutely return whenever inconvenient for him. His interest in her credentials earned a raised brow. “Careful, now. That sounded suspiciously like curiosity. Keep that up and people might start thinking you’re stalking me.” But then he repeated her name.

Kiva Gaudius, former messenger and ambassador of Wind Haven. Something small shifted behind her expression. They were only words. Titles belonging to a place impossibly far away, attached to responsibilities she no longer possessed. Still, hearing someone else say them made Wind Haven feel, for one brief moment, less like something she’d dreamed. Her smile softened, as did her voice. “Pleasure to formally meet you too, Raelan.”

Fortunately, his wounded response gave her an escape before the sentiment could linger. Kiva gasped, one paw lifting to grasp against her chest once again. “Your stalker thinks extremely highly of you, actually. I’ve followed you across half a continent, apparently. Do you think I do that for just anyone?” she sniffed. Then Raelan turned toward the direction of the wedding.

Kiva had expected an answer. Maybe directions. Perhaps an explanation of exactly whose wedding half of Mythris had apparently decided to attend. She hadn’t, however, expected an invitation.

You may come along as a member of Eastrenhold.

For once, Kiva had nothing immediately available to say. She understood the practicality of it. Raelan was hoping to secure an alliance, and arriving with some unaffiliated stranger he’d collected beside a cliff probably invited unnecessary questions. Unfortunately, another part of her heard something much simpler.

Come with us.

Something tightened beneath her ribs. She had spent so long existing nowhere in particular. Sleeping beneath unfamiliar trees, following paths simply because they were there, wandering onward because there was nowhere she was expected to return to afterward. And now someone had made room for her beside him. Even if only for an afternoon.

“That seems dangerously trusting,” she finally said, humor slipping safely back into place. “You’ve met me twice. The first time I cried at you, and the second time I admitted to stalking you. Your standards for recruitment are concerning.” But she moved. Because of course she did. Kiva fell into step after him, closing the distance until his conditions finally registered.

“Wait. No biting, poisoning, or stalking?” She looked genuinely affronted. “Raelan, you’ve just eliminated nearly my entire skill set.” Amber eyes slid toward him, humor yet again within them. “Fine. Best behavior. Well, within reason.”

Ahead, the scattered scents she’d noticed earlier grew stronger, individual trails disappearing beneath dozens. Conversation occasionally reached them on the breeze. Wolves moved in the distance, all converging upon a celebration Kiva hadn’t known existed an hour ago. Noise, company, life. It almost made a longing whine creep up her throat. She shut that shit down immediately. Her steps slowed for barely half a heartbeat before continuing.

“Just so we’re clear,” Kiva stated after clearing her throat, all traces of momentary weakness gone, “if anyone asks, I am an extremely respectable member of Eastrenhold and absolutely not some suspicious woman you found sitting alone beside a cliff.”

Her mouth motioned upwards into a soft smile. “And if this alliance of yours somehow fails, I was never there.” The cliffs gradually fell behind them. Kiva didn’t look back.

Instead, she walked beside a wolf who had been a stranger among blue flowers and was, somehow, not quite one anymore, toward a wedding she hadn’t been invited to, belonging for the afternoon to a place she’d never seen. It was ridiculous and it was probably a terrible idea. And yet? Kiva smiled.

“Alright, Lord Commander. Tell me what exactly I’ve just agreed to.”

His laughter was quiet and true as it tumbled from his lips, his eyes lightened by the shadows of mirth and amusement as their banter continued, parrying. Raelan gave her a curt nod. Of course, Lady of Shadows and Pawsteps, I am certain the council will be overjoyed to hear of your critiques and ways that they could improve. He added with an amused smirk, And to them, I will give a detailed schedule of where I will be and when, so that it may be easier for you to track

His snort followed her own, and he shook his head in silent entertainment. When was the last time he had laughed like that? Before he had come here, surely.

Me? Stalking you? He feigned a moment of shock as his eyes widened atop his features. Can’t a humble stalking victim be interested in their stalker’s credentials? He huffed as his eyes appeared to roll once after his words: The world nowadays, the pursued can’t even catch a break!

Still, his eyes twinkled with silent amusement as he dipped his chin into a quiet moment of acknowledgment. Despite the playful words that the two continued to exchange, Raelan was genuinely interested in these titles and honors she seemed to hold. What was the Wind Haven? Certainly, it could no longer be a place in this world, as he had never heard of it. But before? In her world? What had it been?

But he wouldn’t pry, wouldn’t push too hard, and would leave those questions unanswered until a better time and date. Instead, he fell back into their playful banter (far better than the melancholy he felt during their first interaction) and chuckled. You know, I’ve never had a stalker before. First time and all that, he joked, even if the words were actually the truth. So, it's hard to guess the lengths a stalker is determined to go to. He shrugged. But now I know better.

As their conversation moved swiftly towards the wedding at his back, or rather, the very large procession of meandering wolves heading to the wedding, Raelan offered Kiva a genuine smile. It might be, He admitted. It was true; he had only ever met her twice, and now he was inviting her to stand beside his and Vidalia’s Banner in a foreign man’s kingdom, nonetheless. You say all the right things, he added with a half-hearted chuckle, And yet, I am often a good judge of character, and yours I have deemed true.

He began to head in the direction of the tropical forest, certain that Kiva would inevitably follow. No biting, poisoning, or stalking, he echoed her solemnly, although there was a twinge of something humorous within the notes of his voice. I trust you will be able to find something to do with yourself, he tacked on at the end.

Raelan thought of Vidalia; he would have to inform her of their new recruit. Of a lady, he had decided it would be best to invite her into their fold. He didn’t think Vidalia would mind, believing she would ultimately trust his judgment, as he often trusted hers; still, he vowed to have the conversation the minute they reconnected on their travels. That way, there would be no surprises for any of them.

An ear turned toward Kiva’s words, and then, slowly, his gaze came next. Oh, absolutely, he agreed with a nod. You have not stalked me across an entire continent either. Instead, you are…an Eastrenhold Envoy, accompanying the Queen and her Lord Commander to the Emperor’s wedding.

That seemed like a good enough cover, he thought.

And if all things go well, perhaps we could make you an official member as well, he offered with a smile. If you’d like, that is.

His gaze turned toward the growing tree-line as their steps carried them forward.

The pack we are going to is named Tianlong. The Emperor, Shenlei, is a foreign-born man, and it is his wedding that we are attending. Raelan explained, They are wolves of a certain faith, though I do not know much beyond rumors of a dragon they adhere to…and a crane, if my memory serves me well.

His tail swayed in idle chatter as his nose twitched along the incoming scents of others. Soon, they’d be upon the rest of the caravan of traveling wolves; many of those, even Raelan did not know.

It appears that the guest list is nearly half the continent, or that is what it feels like. There are many packs and dignitaries attending, some of whom I believe are only here for the networking that they can accomplish at this man’s behest.

He rolled his shoulders into a nonchalant shrug. Others are simply here to enjoy the festivities. Raelan had spotted wolves he had never met but who had been chattering endlessly on the journey about how excited they were about the potential indulgence of fermented berries. I intend to do both.

Kiva had honestly been prepared to continue their ridiculous argument regarding stalker etiquette. “Excellent. I’m glad the council is taking my concerns seriously. An itinerary should be sufficient, although I’d appreciate advance notice regarding any spontaneous changes.” Her expression remained perfectly solemn. “I do have a reputation to maintain.”

What reputation that was, exactly, remained unclear. Lady of Shadows and Pawsteps, stalker, trespasser, wedding crasher, former ambassador. That last one sat a little differently than the others, but fortunately Raelan gave her something considerably safer to focus on when he began defending his sudden interest in her credentials. Kiva scoffed. “Oh, please. Asking questions about me? Learning things? Taking an interest in my mysterious past?” Her amber eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That’s starting to sound remarkably like stalking, Raelan.”

She was smiling when he ruined everything by saying something sincere. Yours I have deemed true. Kiva blinked, pausing. For a moment, there was no clever response. They had met twice. Twice. One of those meetings had involved both of them being pretty much assaulted by flowers, and this one had begun with Kiva cheerfully admitting to stalking him across half a continent. Raelan had very little evidence upon which to make judgments regarding her character.

Apparently that didn't stop the words from landing somewhere uncomfortably deep. Her gaze slipped forward. “That’s an alarming amount of confidence to place in someone whose primary qualifications appear to be trespassing and harassment,” she quipped. There, that was better. The humor returned, even if something softer remained beneath it.

“But I’ll try not to make you regret your excellent judgment immediately.” As for his restrictions? Kiva sighed heavily. “I’ll improvise.” Then Raelan gave her a title. Eastrenhold Envoy.

Her ears tipped forward, and for a moment, she almost whined deep in the back of her throat. That one didn't sound ridiculous. In fact, it sounded dangerously familiar. Once, introducing herself as a messenger or ambassador had been second nature. She'd carried Wind Haven's name across borders, memorized ranks and relationships, learned when humor was welcome and when she needed to behave like someone considerably more respectable than she actually was. Apparently those instincts hadn't disappeared simply because the title had. Kiva straightened slightly.

“Eastrenhold Envoy. Oh, I like that considerably better.” Her chin lifted with exaggerated dignity. “Very respectable. Nobody needs to know I was promoted approximately five minutes after being discovered loitering beside a cliff.” Then came the rest: Perhaps we could make you an official member as well.

Kiva's step faltered. Only slightly, but still, the word caught somewhere beneath her ribs. Official. Not merely pretending for an afternoon. Not a convenient explanation if someone questioned her presence. An actual place among them. She had spent so long moving through Mythris with nowhere she was expected to return to that the offer felt almost foreign.

Before Kiva could decide what to do with that, another realization arrived. Eastrenhold. Her brow furrowed. Wait. “Do you guys live in that castle? Cause if so, I’ve been there before!” she stated excitedly. ”But before you get excited, I wasn’t invited by anyone. I just was wandering around. Hopefully my trespassing won’t affect my membership. Plus, you don’t even know if I’m housebroken!” the joke arrived half a second too late.

But the humor couldn't entirely smother what Raelan had offered. An official member of Eastrenhold. That was worse now that she could picture it. Weren’t they in the castle? Stone corridors and empty rooms. An old fortress sitting silent beneath the sky when Kiva had wandered through it alone. Except apparently it wasn't empty anymore. There were wolves there now: Raelan, his Queen, others presumably. Voices where there had been silence, scents collecting along corridors, paws wearing familiar paths into stone and earth. A place becoming lived in. Kiva looked at her paws before the thought could settle any deeper. Absolutely not. She definitely was not getting attached to the idea, nope.

His offer remained, though. Kiva looked toward the growing treeline and the wolves gathering beyond it. “Maybe,” she finally said. It came quieter than most things she'd said that afternoon. Damn it, she immediately disliked that. “I could come back. Properly, this time.”

Something warm and comforting gathered beneath her ribs. Kiva promptly ignored it, her lip almost curling up into a snarl of irritation at herself. That was as close to an answer as she was prepared to give. Fortunately, Raelan moved on to considerably safer territory.

Tianlong, Emperor Shenlei, and a faith involving a dragon and a crane? Packs and dignitaries arriving from across Mythris, some seeking alliances while others apparently intended to enjoy themselves and concerning amounts of fermented berries.

The old ambassador in Kiva stirred awake almost immediately. Her attention sharpened without conscious effort, information arranging itself into neat categories the way it had hundreds of times before. “An emperor?” Her ears tipped backward and her gait paused.

That sounded considerably more serious than the random wedding she'd imagined crashing fifteen minutes ago. Kiva turned toward Raelan with sudden suspicion.

“Uhhhh, Raelan?” She allowed his name to sit there accusingly. “So. When you said wedding, I was picturing food and some unfortunate couple being stared at by their relatives.” Her eyes narrowed and a small huff came out as her tail did one single swish in the air. “You neglected to mention we're crashing an emperor's wedding.” Technically, he wasn't crashing anything. Kiva absolutely was - but with style.

She considered the distinction. Very seriously. Then something else he'd said registered: many packs, dignitaries, basically half the continent! Her expression slowly brightened.

Once, gatherings like this would have been work. Names to remember, relationships to observe, alliances to understand. Oh, and opportunities to learn which territories were friendly with one another and which smiles were purely diplomatic! She loved it.

Once, Kiva would have arrived carrying Wind Haven with her. But now? She was arriving as an Eastrenhold Envoy. A fake one, probably just for today. She refused to examine why for today suddenly felt disappointing.

“Oh, this is much worse than I thought.”

The grin spreading slowly across her face suggested this was somehow excellent news. Her pace quickened until she was properly beside Raelan again, attention shifting once more toward the growing collection of scents ahead. “Alright. Emperor Shenlei, Tianlong, dragons, cranes, important wolves, fermented fruit.”

She nodded once, committing the details to memory. “I can work with that.” Then she glanced sideways at him, a smirk curving her lips. “One more question, though. Exactly how respectable does an Eastrenhold Envoy need to look before someone starts asking questions?”