Something to keep my mind off

you can throw me to the wolves

Ira

It is almost pleasant outside. Almost. The sun has just started painting the sky a slightly brighter colour and it isn't glaring down on anyone yet. And there is a faint wind drifting over the more open land, shifting the dust through the dried stalks that are still in the fields between the cracks in the ground.

She is not too far out from the last buildings, staying close enough to the city and very far away from the outer borders to not make any of the border guards suspicious. She is not out there to try and escape or anything. Her goal for the morning is to get some air and just be away from the crowds. To just try to reset herself a bit and clear her head from thoughts about her current troublesome situation and everything about it that she doesn't want to have to think about. And since she felt too bad about drinking and smoking at the moment, she needs some other kind of distraction to not go completely insane.

The distraction in question is to go searching around in the fields before the sun threatens to burn her up. Searching for anything, really. Pickers always dropped things during the time they are out there during other seasons. Could be all from a piece of lasti to a ring, or anything else. Or perhaps something was lying around in the dirt, left behind from the last flood. So she picks a random spot among the dried plants to start at and crouches down, sticking her fingers into one of the cracks in the ground and starts digging through the dry ground.

tomorrow I will come back leader of the whole pack

Isanti

In the space between thought and wonder
Memory cannot pull you under

Who decided it was a good idea to stick a city in such an unbearable location?

The heat has been dry and oppressive, blistering, scorching, a relentless scourge turning the world brown and sordid. Caught between tall buildings and crowded trams he misses the mountains, the caves, and the wide, rolling plains of Undunli more than ever. Never before has he been haunted by a heat from which there is no reprieve and no escape, where even the nights leave him sticky with sweat and craving water.

It seems nothing short of a miracle that the entire city hasn't gone up (or down) in flames. Isanti has dutifully taken the bloody tram up each morning, Morrocaw in tow, suffering day after day until he wonders how he's not a desiccated corpse, shriveled and dried up like any vegetation too dumb to grow in this miserable place.

Morrocaw doesn't like the heat. She handles it worse than he does, if she had to do more than walk. Whenever they have the morning off he gets up before sunrise, and heads out into the Scapes with her. He still doesn't dare to let her off the leash, but in the pale twilight he jogs and sprints with her, letting her get a semblance of freedom at least.

And as the sun creeps up his pace slows, knowing he must savor this moment when the evaporating sweat cools his body. It brings with it the memory of actually freezing, like a faint echo across time.

Soon, that will all be gone, burnt to cinders in the sun's cruel eye.

Isanti, hair in a messy braid, plastered to his head and neck with sweat, dejectedly starts to walk towards home as the sun threatens to slip over the horizon. He sinks into dispirited and depressive thoughts, shuffling along through the dusty and cracked fields. Morrocaw follows along with her usual polite interest in her surroundings, never stopping long enough for him to tug her leash, and as such, he simply doesn't notice when the cheetah veers off a few steps to look at whatever interesting thing Ira is digging up.

In the moment between breath and dying
You’re free, fearless, you’re flying

you can throw me to the wolves

Ira

She is far into her digging. Or more like far down into her own thought that she fails to avoid, banking on the hope that she will snap back to reality if her fingers feel something that isn't dirt. So much for trying to keep herself distracted. Yes, perhaps she had to think of things, but it doesn't mean she wants to.

Dust whirls up around her for a few seconds as the wind kicks up temporarily before dying down again. She lifts her gaze and looks around, spotting someone moving further away but doesn't pay them much attention. It is not a too big surprise that there would be people around even out here. There are always people around everywhere in this city sometimes.

She goes back to her digging and tries to actually focus, but sadly, the ground isn't that interesting and she soon slips into the world of many thoughts again. The sound of footsteps coming closer has her pause to listen, but then just goes back to her digging. Not bothering to care much if people strolled by. What she isn't prepared for, however, is for the cheetah face to suddenly appear by her hands.

"What the-...! She more or less yelps and throws herself backwards, loses her balance and ends up on her back in a cloud of dust. Startled and coughing, she quickly drags herself backwards a bit before propping herself up onto her elbows and stares back and forth between the big cat... On a leash... and the person holding the other end. Her expression a mix of surprise and confusion with some sprinkles of caution.

tomorrow I will come back leader of the whole pack

Isanti

In the space between thought and wonder
Memory cannot pull you under

"What the-...!"

That's too close for comfort. Morrocaw is used to the sudden and loud outbursts of people (she knows they're mostly harmless), but she's still recoiled half a step, watching the human with something like concern and surprise- one paw raised, ready to run away.

Isanti, on the other hand, gets startled out of his thoughts, but he feels like his brain is full of syrup. He's not even sure what is going on. Morrocaw is a few steps to his side, by some disturbed earth, and a stranger is practically crawling away on their back, raising a cloud of dust. They finally stop and look at him - or his cat - but Isanti is (dumbly) staring at where she had presumably been digging. Why he doesn't make the connection between Morrocaw and her fright can be questioned.

"Are you alright?" he asks, concerned, taking a few steps closer to peer at what she had been doing. "Did you, uh.. disturb something..?" He gestures vaguely towards the ground.

In the moment between breath and dying
You’re free, fearless, you’re flying

you can throw me to the wolves

Ira

Her eyes snap back to the cheetah and stay there when it is rising its paw. Ira not knowing that it is doing it to be prepared to run away and not strike. One of her arms wrap across her midsection without her even being aware of it. Though when nothing more happens in the following few seconds, she carefully sits up and gives the person a more confused look when he speaks.

"What...? Did... Did I disturb something?" She blinks and looks towards the pile of dirt he is gesturing to and she just stares at it, almost forgetting about the big cat for a moment. Slowly she looks back up with a brow raised. "No, your... Cheetah suddenly showed up on my face." She throws another glance at the animal, confirming that it does indeed look what she remembers a cheetah looking like from the animal books she sometime in the past had been reading through.

Moving slowly as if to not startle the animal or anything, she pulls her legs in under her before standing up. Arm moving back to her side. Her clothes are covered in dust. More than what they already where. Long black patched cargo pants and an oversized black t-shirt. Very bad colour choice for the environment, but she hardly cares. At least not at the moment. "But I'm fine. Was just surprised, s'all." She remembers that he had actually asked if she was alright.

tomorrow I will come back leader of the whole pack

Isanti

In the space between thought and wonder
Memory cannot pull you under

She seems completely confused by his question. Isanti questions his sanity. Had he spoken some nonsense? Was his Undunli accent super thick and slurred, like he was drunk or something?

Why he's not sharper is up for debate. He's normally not this dense, but if you were to examine it more closely it might be something like this: Very Stressed Since Lockdown. Constant Fear Of Losing Cat. Financial Worries. On top of that, he's been baked by the sun for nearly an entire fucking third of a year, and it's a wonder he's not developed a nice pizza crust with his flesh and blood and skin melting for toppings.

So, yeah. His sleep's not great. His everything's not great. And on this particular morning, since he can't fathom ever being frightened by Morrocaw, it just so happens to make him incredibly stupid.

Then it all becomes perfectly clear.

"Oh," he says, turning his face to look at Morrocaw. She's still the picture of somewhat affronted innocence, watching Ira to see if she'll start randomly yelping again or not. They must've passed so close she hadn't had to strain the leash at all.

Then-

"Oh, shit, saints, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he blabbers, sort of stammers, snapping his fingers by his side as his stomach coils and clenches, his fear having found new vigor again as the woman stands up. Morrocaw dutifully returns to his side as his panicked thoughts speed up. What if she's some sort of important person? An Enforcer? Uh, some Drench King's daughter?

But if she were some voice of reason tries to interject why would she be out here, digging in the dirt?

"I didn't even see you there, I'm, I'm sorry." Pale fingers tighten around the leash, the whites around his eyes hard, face kind of drawn. Always, always, the fear of losing her.

In the moment between breath and dying
You’re free, fearless, you’re flying

you can throw me to the wolves

Ira

She could make a list of her own troubles for him as well: Sleeping Too Little. Eating Too Rarely. Working One Job Too Many. Doing Fucking Stupid Things. (Or Just Doing Stupid Fucking) The Season Being Illegally Hot. She stands there, with the dust slowly settling on her damp skin, and just watches him as if she can see his mind working. Or she is just trying to untangle the situation in her own mind as well. Confused over why he is confused over her reaction to the big cat.

His sudden stammering and anxiety doesn't make her any less confused either.

She tilts her head to the side and almost gets too stuck on his accent and has to snap herself out of trying to figure out what it is with it that makes her so curious. His increased anxiety also makes it impossible for her to even be upset and she holds up her hands a bit as if to try and gesture for him to calm down. "Hey, it's fine. Alright? I just didn't expect to have a huge cat in my lap this morning." She offers him a soft smile and hopes it will calm him down somewhat, at least.

The cheetah in question looks cute, even. Ira looks it over again and notices the collar properly. Especially the gemstones on it and she tilts her head to the other side curiously. Something is still tickling the back of her mind and she just can't put her finger on it. "That's a very fancy collar. On a very fancy cat." She says as a genuine compliment and there is nothing in her voice that would indicate something shady like "would be a shame if someone stole it.". With a deep breath, she rolls her shoulders and tries to take a more relaxed stance and shake the tension away from herself as well.

tomorrow I will come back leader of the whole pack

Isanti

In the space between thought and wonder
Memory cannot pull you under

She's not angry at least- however that's possible. Perhaps he has been up on the Plates too much, where people are easily affronted, where the fascination of his exotic pet just as quickly turns to indignation and inconvenience. But she's not upset at all, rather, the opposite, as if his derailed anxiety would quickly become the more annoying thing. Isanti kind of gulps it all down, pressing his lips together into a flat, bloodless line.

Breathe. His heart is pounding against his ribs, nausea just barely held in check. He's frayed at every seam these days, too ready to come apart, burst into an anxious, bile-smelling mess. Breathe. It's okay. Next to him, Morrocaw shifts uneasily. Cheetahs are anxious by nature, and though she's calmer out in the Scapes it hasn't escaped her how anxious he is all the time.

But he does his best to get it back under control, breathing deeply through his nose and just sort of nodding in dumb defeat. If she says it's alright, then it's alright, and there's no reason for him to make a bigger fool out of himself by rambling on about how sorry he is.

And as she mentions the collar his heart jumps, but he tries to push that away too. It is exhausting to live when you expect the worst in absolutely everyone, and he tries not to, but when you're so afraid it's hard not to. "Thanks," he says quietly, not knowing how else to respond. One long-fingered hand fidgets with the leash, the other with Morrocaw's black ruff. ".. her name is Morrocaw."

In the moment between breath and dying
You’re free, fearless, you’re flying

you can throw me to the wolves

Ira

She likes to think she is quite good at reading people after having working with serving them for the last few years, but this one in front of her is so nervous it could just as well be written over him in big neon letters. So she takes a slow, deep breath herself and sticks her hands in her pockets for now, hanging down a bit with her weight on one leg and hopes the more relaxed body language would just send some calm signals his way.

The small smile stays on her lips while she looks him over again, finally starting to actually take in the other person. He doesn't exactly look like a Drencher, especially not with such an exotic pet with a jewelled collar, but she also could not see why a Plater would be running around out in the fields either. Well, at least not one from the noble houses surely. Perhaps he was like on of those "regular" Platers that often came down to visit.

"She's pretty. Hello." She addresses the cheetah and decides to crouch down, carefully extending a hand towards the animal. If he could keep it in a simple leash with no muzzle or anything, surely it could not be that hostile. It hadn't decide to bite her earlier, at least. "I'm Ira and you... Are not from around here, are you?" She looks back up at the person, taking a guess that he's not a local. His accent is a bit too thick for having been here for very long.

tomorrow I will come back leader of the whole pack

Isanti

In the space between thought and wonder
Memory cannot pull you under

In some ways, Isanti himself tends to look quite exotic too, like something out of a fairytale. He's ethereal, with his pale skin, white hair, and blue, blue eyes - but right now, he doesn't look like the graceful and sprite-like youth from the Undunli plains. Right now he's grimy and sweaty and dressed in the Kotoll equivalent of a tracksuit, clearly having exercised and tussled with his cheetah in the predawn cool. Instead of composed and airy, he's nervous and tense. What he's looked the most at of the woman he startled is her knees.

He hasn't thought about it, but it's always been easier to direct people to Morrocaw. She's usually down for a sniff and some pets, and if she isn't in the mood, oh well too bad so sad bye-bye. Works perfect for someone with unacknowledged social anxiety.

She glances up at Isanti for a cue. Seeing one - or perhaps the lack of one - she takes a small step forward to better sniff Ira's outstretched hand. One ear and one eye always on the surroundings, looking for prey perhaps, but for now content to try to get some cheek scritches.

Isanti is almost startled when the attention is redirected back to him. He had been hoping Morrocaw would've distracted her for longer, but alas. Nervously, he reaches up to tuck a few errant strands of hair away behind his ear. "No, I'm from Desclef. Undunli." Again, he starts fidgeting with the leash. Clearly it doesn't bother Morrocaw, because she doesn't even look at him. "I'm Isanti."

In the moment between breath and dying
You’re free, fearless, you’re flying