For @Ursula

In her old home, there had been special mushrooms that grew near mossy rocks and trees, and would temporarily dye your fur white if you crushed them and used the spores. Nonoyo's mother had told her they were also poisonous in very specific ways, ones that caused visions, and usually this was done right before she ate several and passed out for a day. Nonoyo had been interested in one aspect, but not the other.

When she'd come to Amaryllis, she had known that the plants would be different. It was difficult to figure out how different until she was faced with the problem, however. To perform a blessing for her new pride, she had to paint her fur in certain ways; in order to paint her fur, she needed those mushrooms...or something else that worked. Experimentation was difficult, but she had come to Stygian Shore in search of one last solution before she gave up and changed her rituals slightly.

There was a crab her mother had told her about, a blue crab, and wherever they lived, there were usually soft white shells that could be crushed into powder, then wet to become a paint. Nonoyo had spent the better part of the morning combing the beach for these crabs, for these shells, and now that the sun was high in the sky she was still no closer to finding them.

Was it any wonder she let out a roar of frustration when she found yet another red crab?

table by sylph | stock

Time and again she leaves her new home behind, wandering off in search of new discoveries and unknown areas. She still hasn't ventured very far, straying only so far that she might make it back before dark or shortly thereafter. It would do no good to go worrying her sisters so immediately after they've settled here. Urs figured it was a fair trade to at least be home every morning when they woke, tucked somewhere close and around when or if they might crave her presence. Trying to keep herself confined for long made her much too cranky, and she's sure no one wanted to deal with that.

Black sands stretch far before her, seemingly endless, and her nose is nearly touching it as she trots along today. There are prints in the sands, and she's been following them for a short while now. At first, when she'd found them, she'd compared the size of her own to them, stepping in one and holding it there. Whoever it was, their paws were much larger than her own growing ones, that's for sure. And their path was.. a little sporadic. Here it went up the shore, there it went down to the water- and all the while she follows it directly, her tail dragging heavily in the sand behind her own steps in an attempt to cover her pawprints so that no one would be able to follow her like she was following.. well.. whoever was on the other end.

Poor girl. If she'd been able to hear, she'd have realized that the stranger wasn't terribly far off at all. All she'd need to do is lift her eyes from the sand below to see the feline only a short ways down the beach, only a few gulls separating them.

@Nonoyo

Pathfinder
+5 Scout a neutral territory
+5 Cover your tracks

Ranger
+5 Study and track footprints

Nonoyo breathed heavily as she finished venting her frustration to the sky, inhaling deeply and then exhaling noisily. She wasn't ready to give up yet, though, and turned to go back the way she had come, only to spy a brown figure making their way up the beach toward her. She hesitated, uncertain whether she should call an apology for making such a heinous display of herself, but the other didn't seem to be bothered at all, so she decided it didn't matter.

Maybe they would be able to help, though. With that in mind she started toward them, calling out, "Excuse me!"

As she got a little closer, she realized the other lioness was only a yearling--and, judging from the size of her paws already, one that would be larger than Nonoyo one day, even if she had that advantage now. Perhaps less likely to know where to find the shells she was looking for, then; still, it didn't hurt to ask. She repeated herself when she got close enough she wouldn't have to shout, ducking her head closer to the black sands to try and catch @Ursula's eye."Excuse me?"

table by sylph | stock

Being so intensely focused on the pawprints below leaves her rather oblivious to her surroundings, and so Urs doesn't realize that she's been spotted. Continuing on with her sniffing and print-following, there's no outward indication that she hears the other calling for her. Instead her face remains downturned, tail flicking at her hocks to brush her plume across the mark of her own paws. This was brilliant, and such fun! It ends abruptly, however, when someone's face is suddenly a foot or so ahead of her own, low to the ground as though seeking her attention. Startled, the girl leaps back, hair fluffing haphazardly and tail pointing to the sky as she lays widened eyes on the stranger. All the while she doesn't make a sound. When in the hell did they get here??

@Nonoyo

The lioness doesn't respond to her in any way, not until they're a foot away from each other and finally face-to-face. Nonoyo can't help jumping as well when the other lioness reacts with such surprise, but when she still doesn't make a sound a little red warning starts going off in Nonoyo's head. "Uhm, hello?" She tried, but she didn't expect any response. Hiashin had stories about those who lacked certain senses; hearing, sight, taste. It wasn't unusual to Nonoyo, but she wasn't sure how to go about communicating if not with her voice. She glanced down, finally spotting her own pawprints that the other had been following, and gave @Ursula a tentative smile.

She put one of her paws in the prints, moving slowly and obviously as she placed her paw and then lifted it again and sweeping it to the side, trying to convey a sort of hello, that was me message.

table by sylph | stock

Just as quickly as her heart begins to hammer in the cage of her chest, it subsides when she draws in a deep breath through her nose and exhales slowly through slightly-parted lips. The length of her tail drops, plume thwacking the onyx sand, and the majority of her hair relaxes, only the ruff on the nape of her neck remaining upright, unsightly. Gaining control of her nervous system is easy this time, but it's no less frustrating than any of the other instances. To anyone who knew her, this would be apparent in how her expression morphs from wide-eyed, whiskers forward pressed to relaxed save the slightest crease between her freckled brows. It's not even that she was frightened by the sudden approach - she hadn't been afraid - but being spooked startled by suddenly realizing you're nose-to-nose with a stranger was natural, right?

Those pale eyes flicker over the lionesses face, aware that she's being spoken to but unable to focus on those dark lips enough to try to read them. Ursa is too busy berating herself for getting worked up over nothing, for not paying attention again. She makes a mental note to be better about that. This new world is vast, she's quickly finding, and it's far more populated than her homeland had ever been. It wouldn't serve her well to continue this habit of meandering about willy-nilly, nose to the ground or eyes to the skies. If she wants to discover everything this realm has to offer, she ought actually pay attention to the things that matter instead.

As far as things that matter go, her eyes are drawn back to the sands as the grey woman makes slow gestures with her paws. Ursula simultaneously admires the white toes and scattering of speckles as the display commences, and as she watches, she realizes that the stranger's paws fit perfectly in the trail of prints that have brought the yearling to this exact spot. Oh! Still a stranger, but now a stranger with meaning, as it were. Snapping her gaze back to the dark and decorated face before her, the freckled yearling smiles in return, nodding, a determinedly self-satisfied sort of expression. Damn, she was good at this. Lifting a forepaw, she displays the pads briefly in a wait gesture before turning perpendicular to her prey newfound acquaintance. Using that same lofted forelimb, she points a clawed toe at the path of prints now behind her, the leg swaying as she followed it here and there. Staring at the woman, Urs crinkled her eyebrows together and tilted her head a little, imploring her to understand the question of why in the world she'd been walking so funny.

@Nonoyo

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She seems to get her message across well enough, as the younger lioness nods with determined self-satisfaction and goes on to try and convey something of her own. This is...more complicated, and Nonoyo's eyes narrowed as she paid close attention to the way that @Ursula pointed and swayed her paw. It took her a minute, but she finally said, "Oh!" and turned her attention to her own tracks. Yes, she supposed if the yearling had been following her, her trail was an odd one. Nonoyo thought about how to convey what she needed for a moment, and then turned her attention to the black sands beneath them.

With one claw, she did her best to draw out the curved shape of the shells she was looking for. It was easier to explain than the crabs, this way, and ultimately her goal. She had to draw with bigger, sweeping motions of her paw, but she managed to etch out the curved shape and even draw the little lines down the center that characterized the particular shell she was looking for. It was also bright white, but that was more difficult to convey with...black sand.

When she was done, she made sure the lioness was looking back at her before she continued her message and gave a helpless shrug, waving her paw back and forth. Can't find them, searching.

table by sentinel / artwork

There's no such thing as language barriers to those who have no language. She feels no frustration in trying to explain her intent to this stranger, and doesn't even realize that she might look a bit silly what with waving her limbs about all willy-nilly, tail tossing at her rear to maintain her compromised balance. And eventually, as it always happens, the other understands, expression displaying that lovely oh moment only seconds before a verbal confirmation follows. Not that Urs could hear the word, singular but in the air regardless.

Expectant, the yearling stills, lofted limb dropping to the sands beneath her as lilac eyes study the way the lioness now moves. She understands that the other is explaining, but this manner isn't the common choice, however straightforward it may seem. There's still that crinkle between her brows, head tilting now to move the developing picture as she studies it, growing paws shifting her body as she rounds to stand beside the stranger in order to take in the drawn image properly. There's a piece of her that wants to express thanks as the other works, so obviously going out of their way and offering more effort is usual in a day's communication. But she can't, so she doesn't try.

It doesn't take long for the yearling to figure it out, either. She's visited the beach many times, taken there first by her father and going back multiple times by herself nearly for nostalgia. Now she lived beside it, skin smelling of sea. Shells were familiar. And so yes she nods, bouncing on her forepaws a few times to express her excitement. Glancing over at the woman, she moves down the beach a little (bouncing all the way), and nods her head while pointing her nose at the treasure drawn in the sand. They'd find it, together, Urs would be sure of that.

@Nonoyo

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The other lioness came to look at the drawing from over her shoulder as she worked, and Nonoyo shifted aside so she would have a good view as she finished the last touches on her shell. @Ursula smelled like the ocean, certainly; maybe she would have an idea of where to find the white shells Nonoyo was so desperately looking for.

It seemed she did have something of an idea, as the brown yearling nods and bounds up the beach a ways. Nonoyo perked up, immediately moving to follow the young lioness as she was beckoned. Nonoyo felt relieved now that she had someone familiar with the area to help; it would definitely be a lot easier to find them if she traveled the beach with a companion.

"I'll follow you," Nonoyo told the girl, even knowing she couldn't hear. Hopefully her body language conveyed the same message, at least.

table by sentinel / artwork

As the lioness moves to follow, the yearling gives a final, deal-sealing nod, forcibly quelling the bouncing of her body despite the still-bubbling excitement within. She chooses to lead them in the direction they'd been heading before meeting, not bothering to backtrack the way she'd come, as she's sure the older female has searched well enough the area that they've both now traversed. Her companion's prints are in the dark sand for a handful of paces before they turn around, and Ursula plops her paws dramatically into a few of them in an attempt at comedy before she moves beyond them, forging a new trail for the other to follow, roles reversed.

Meandering closer to the sea, just out of reach of the waves as they slither up the beach, the girl drops her neck to better inspect the ground. It's here, she knows, that shells can be more easily found, constantly sifted about and being newly deposited with each pass of the roiling water. Most are damaged, fragments of the whole destroyed by the unmeasured power of the ocean, but here or there are full specimens, dirty but intact. She finds two, in particular, that resemble the drawn shape. Pulling them closer together, she stops moving and glances at her newfound friend, questioning. One of the shells is pale orange, and the other white with peach stripes. They're both about the size of a pad on her paw.

@Nonoyo

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