There was something wrong.  It wasn't any one thing that Moliira could define, and that bothered her deeply.  It felt like there was a piece of something missing, and the drow wanted to find what that was as soon as possible.  There was an odd sensation of being somehow diminished.  There were memories that would flit in and out of her thoughts, but nothing that she could ever completely grasp.  It was frustrating.  From what she had been able to gather, Moliira knew that this new world she had stumbled into was a sort of analog to where she had been.  But there were enough differences that she understood it to be different.  The drow had yet to find Mendean, or any trace of him.  He would know what was going on. 

But for now, she was on her own.  At least she knew of Angela Rose's existence here.  And that was a comfort, however small.  And her boys had crossed over as well.  But not her mate.  He had to be here somewhere, Moliira was certain.  Her current priority though was the information she desired.  The winds still came to her call, which was another small comfort.  But other things came to her now too, things of the storm and the deep wilds. 

Sitting upon the top of a gently rolling hill, Moliira stared out across the heath that was now her realm.  She had named it on her tongue, and people had come quickly.  That had been a month ago in her mind, though the people swore she had been here for ages untold.  Her boys were enjoying their new home at least, the labyrinth of the Shrine had not been a good place for them.  It was something Moliira only now realized.  She had truly embraced the lupine side of herself, and here it could be completely free.

The change was not sudden. He might not have noticed that he had left home at all, if the smell of strange grasses had not eventually reached his nostrils. With a deep inhale he looked up, spending a moment to perceive the heath that stretched out before him and the peculiar red dusk that pervaded the land–though not the divine creature who might have since noticed his appearance in her realm. Not yet.

One glance told him that these were not his mountains. It was the first time in a very long time that he had left his highland stomping grounds. A low anxiety arced through his nerves, heightening his senses in none of the ways that mattered. He felt trapped. He did not know which way to turn, or where a predator or enemy might be lurking. He did not know this place. And yet somehow it seemed like an important place to be.

He had said the word. His mother had taught it to him decades ago, and he used them occasionally to bless the souls of his prey. Perhaps he had said it wrong, before; perhaps he had not split his own blood at the same time; perhaps the word hadn't meant anything until now. His fist clenched instinctively over the open wound on his hand, an accident for all intents and purposes. More blood had been split by the doe at his feet, who had been transported with him to this strange twilight realm.

So he knelt beside his hunt, wrapping his hand in a bit of old cloth, and set to work dressing the deer.

His knife moved swiftly, skinning the beast and removing its innards. He could have saved many parts if he knew a place to store them, but instead he could only spread them over the grass in service of the wolves and scavengers. When the carcass was sufficiently bled and cleaned, he tied it up and hoisted it onto his back.

It might have been minutes or hours by the time he saw her, the shadow of a woman sitting contemplatively atop her hill. She was the first person he had seen in this place (not knowing how many he had passed in the form of wolves) and his desperation for guidance won out over his reflex for suspicion. Breathing heavily, he dropped his kill before her at the foot of the hill.

"Are you hungry?"

She knew the moment someone new stepped into her realm.  It had always been that way, since her ascension.  The drow could have surprised him, could have taken the doe as an offering, but she wanted to understand the person first.  The offering of blood was a beginning of that, and blood told her of many things.  The offering of the innards to the heath made Moliira nod to herself in approval, they would not go to waste.  It took some time for the male to reach her hill, and his first words would determine the remainder of their encounter.  And again, the drow found herself approving of her new visitor.

"I am, and I thank you. I am Moliira  The wolves will enjoy the offal you left," she replied with a bow of her head, not addressing the fae creatures who would also enjoy the leavings.  Rising from her seat, Moliira made her way down the hill and approach the man, keeping a small distance.  Most did not react well to her kin, and she had no way of knowing how this one would react to seeing a drow this close.  But given that she chose to dress in the manner of an elvish ranger now, she hoped that would at least stir curiosity and not hostility.  Moving to a stone lined firepit (which had only appeared when the man wasn't looking), Moliira started to build a fire.  The simple motions were second nature to her again, and it gave her a few moments more to observe him.

Keeping her tone mostly neutral, she asked questions in a friendly manner.  "So what brings you to Maral'hal? 
Most people cross over into the Wild Lands with some kind of a purpose," she asked, setting the pack from her shoulders before her.  From it, she removed a flint and tinder, as well as a small metal container of seasonings.  Lighting the fire first, she added one more question.  "I do have to ask one other thing.  Where is it that you came from?  I can guess certain things about you, but not all of them," she added with a soft chuckle.  It was always of interest to Moliira to see how people described the greater world.

In hindsight, Gaius would say it was fate that sliced his hand and poured his lifeblood into the ether. That it was his own instinct, and yet somehow also the guidance of the Great Huntress, that brought his offering to her feet. But for now, he knew little of the significance of this encounter. There was only his growling stomach, the treasured warmth of the campfire, and the company of a fellow ranger.

"I am Gaius Anseriph," he replied, followed by a hesitating beat. "I have no purpose," he added weakly, and even as he said it he realized that it was not true. In truth, his purpose was to find one. These were Gaius's Ventian years; he was growing old, and he had done little with his talents except defend a village that could defend itself. He had burdened himself with duty and solitude where he should have chosen a side or raised a family or explored the world. There were shackles on his wrists, and they were made of fear of the unknown.

He did not expect an answer from her. And yet he found himself wondering if there were answers hidden somewhere in this strange new place.

Avoiding the question, he sat beside her fire and began to carve out the venison flank. "I come from the mountains. I have not left there in a very long time." Instinctively, his earthsense reached into the ground beneath his feet, creeping down into the soil and examining the spark of divinity that saturated the land. He could not know whether it was an invasion on the deity opposite him, but still his magic retreated once it reached the soles of her boots.

"Maral'hal," he repeated the word that he had said so many times before, and yet it sounded fresher in that moment. "This is a place of legend. And you…" Curiosity brought his eyes to meet hers, but quickly enough he returned to his task. It was easier to sit and dine with a stranger than to acknowledge the goddess for what she was.

"Do you know what sort of beasts we should look out for in these plains? It looks like it's getting late."

She smiled, and shook her head.  "No, Gaius, I doubt that.  Everyone has a purpose, whether or not they have found it makes a difference.  But something holds you back from it," Moliira said, tilting her head to one side, studying him again.  In human years, he was aging from what she could see.  Perhaps he would find something within her lands, he wouldn't be the first.  She could feel the slight tingle of magic, but said nothing.  It was nothing harmful, just for information.  Inhaling for a moment, she scented certain plants on the man, and that gave her a fair hint as to where he came from.  Nodding again, Moliira planted a pair of forked sticks on each side of the fire, and waited for the flank to be read to spit it on the third stick.  She had purchased the copper-wrought sticks in Adeluna, and they had more than a few uses.

"You may call me Moliira, I am not one to stand too much on ceremony.  I am curious to know what you've heard of me, the tales seem to vary between places," she said with a light chuckle in her voice.  Some spoke her name in tandem with a dark, hungering shadow, while others spoke of a guardian of the wild places.  Moliira much preferred the second, and was forming a plan to deal with the first.  She shook her head at the question.  "The beasts that live here are varied, though not of your concern.  There are wolves though, and shifters of all stripes.  And… other things that only live in the deepest of wild places.  Perhaps they will grace us with their presence," she said.  The fae creatures that lived in her realm were shy, and distrusting of humans, but there was always a chance they would appear. 

Once the flank was spitted and roasting, Moliira settled down again on the heath, facing the ocean.  The sound of the waves was soothing, and she found herself able to focus better in such a place.  The sunset had deepened just slightly, and the stars were beginning to show.  But that was the darkest it got here, unless they ventured further into the forest behind them.  "You are curious, though.  So ask what you will, I've asked you enough already," she said, turning the spit. 

((OOC: Likewise. >_<))

The meat circled itself slowly, catching bright embers and exchanging them for savory heat. Gaius watched it with intent, as if her words had been burned on the browning flesh for him to read. His stomach growled in anticipation, though in this wild place he hungered for more than nourishment. He had not arrived with any questions. And yet when she told him to ask, it was like she had opened a door to his curiosity. 

“Moliira. I have heard that you watch over the world’s rangers and hunters,” he said lowly, both an answer to her question and a preface to his. “And that you protect the creatures of the dark places deep beneath the earth. I have given you thanks for every quarry I’ve killed, though I never thought you were real.”

His gaze dropped to his lap, where sat the long knife which he had used to skin the beast. There was more blood wiped on his pant than remained on the blade, allowing its murky metallic surface to glint in the low twilight. “Why do you protect these things, these places?” He lifted the tip of the knife to the tip of his finger, pressing its blunt point into the soft flesh. He could not tell if he was disappointed when the skin did not break. “I protect my valley because it is all I’ve ever known. Is it your obligation, or your honor? Does divinity bind you to this place?”

While she faced the ocean, his back was to it. When his attention wandered over her shoulder, he saw a deep, dark forest framed by distant mountains. They were not his mountains; this he had already realized. But that meant that there were other mountains in other lands, which he had yet to see. “Can you leave this place as easily as I came?”

She only nodded at his description of her.  It was all true.  And closing her eyes a moment to search her memories, Moliira found that Gaius' words were true.  He had been quite faithful in his offerings.  Though she thought something was a bit odd about his words.  "So if you thought that I was not real, then why continue?  Or is it more that you though I was not an entity you would ever interact with?" she asked.  It would be interesting to see just how Gaius formed his answer, and Moliira was truly curious just as to what that answer would be. 

It took her a few long moments to formulate her own answer to his questions.  There was no hint of annoyance in her voice, only a sort of tiredness that came from a hard path chosen.  "It is honor, and it is penance for crimes past.  Things that I have done and have been forgotten by most.  But not by me.  I find calm in places that are still wild, and I protect those places for others like me," Moliira finally explained.  In truth, it was not an answer she entirely knew herself, but that was as close to one as she would be able to give just at the moment.

She nodded, then checked the meat before answering him.  It was a perfect medium rare.  Laying it on a plate of black stone by the fire so it could rest properly, Moliira then answered.  "I can, and I often do.  There are places that need my hand, and people that could use some guidance.  That, and there are many things i have yet to see in this world.  I do enjoy seeing new things.  Have you only known your mountains?" she asked, curious as to what would bind a man so closely to one place.  Her own feet had always been restless, though Moliira had never felt deeply tied to the Depths she had been raised in.

“Yes,” Gaius answered without thought. His eyes wandered to the plate she prepared, his hand to the one beside it. “My mother and father both have lived their entire lives in those mountains. It was not until recently that I thought I could be any different.”

The warden held the plate beneath his knife, carving his own piece from the roast. The movement was swift and steady, almost automatic; it was the only thing that felt familiar about this experience, the closest thing to home. He would not admit out loud how difficult it was to be away from a familiar place. “Already though, I have done what few of my people have. To speak with a god… Before today, you were always just a faraway thing, a name for aspects of life which had no other name. We thanked you because it was the right thing to do, because it was what our ancestors did. You were a prayer, not a…” His gaze dropped over her form, her physicality, her normality. “A woman.”

He had been cutting out a chunk from his venison slab when it said it, and immediately the knife paused on the plate. “I’m sorry. Now it seems like a naïve thing to say.” Resuming upon the meal in his lap, Gaius allowed himself to as much nourishment as reprieve. He savored a long moment, his thoughts settling on the mysterious crime for which her power was penance. It seemed intrusive to ask about it, even though she had offered the information willingly enough.

“What are the other places, the other people that earn your guidance?” He asked instead. It had never occurred to him to be curious about other lands. “Maybe fate has sent me to you as a bridge for a purpose in another place. Are you a protector to all ends, or are there any who would oppose you?”

It was strange to the drow that someone would never leave their home, but Moliira had always carried a thirst to explore.  A great curiosity had always driven her, even while she had been confined to the Umbral Depths.  When she had reached the surface world, that thirst had only grown.  "I am a stranger among my own people, one that was born with restless feet.  Always wanted to see what was around the next bend, over the next hill.  Staying in one place has never been enough for me," she admitted with a chuckle.  And it seemed as if Gaius was a bit different from his kin, having gone to seek out that other place. 

She watched his motions for a moment, and Moliira could tell that it was something he had done many times.  "Well, now you have a tale to bring home.  The Walker on the Winds is a woman, and a dark elf at that.  From what I have seen… we gods are never entirely what anyone expects to meet," she added.  Her place in Revaliir was something that she was still adjusting to, and the legends associated with her name.  The drow shook her head when he apologized, it was not something that she needed to hear.  "All I will tell you is to learn from this.  Every experience is a lesson," Moliira said, her manner turning for a few moments to that of a teacher.

The questions he posed were interesting, and the first one was the easiest to answer.  "Those who wander, those who hunt to sustain themselves, and the places they tread are who and where I protect.  The deep wilds, the forests, and the denizens within them are all places I walk and I guard.  I have an opposite… though I would not call him a rival.  Those who follow the Hunter live to hunt and to kill, but for no purpose," she said.  Moliira had learned of Dimitre's arrival through rumors and whispers, and she had to admire him for taking on the guise of a local legend.  Looking to the man again for a moment, she found the idea of a purpose for him interesting.  "Is there a place you would like to see?" she asked.  A simple question, but most likely a complicated answer.

A long silence passed in the question’s wake, dancing between the cracking flame and the cool winds that caught in their ears. Gaius thought he had seen everything he could ever want to see, but over these many years he had mistaken boredom for duty, and resentment for ingratitude. He was beginning to think that it was those feelings, not just the perfunctory prayer and the accidental blood, which had brought him to this realm. His nerves began to itch with the prospect of something… new.

Gaius's hands did not move from where they held his knife over his meal, but he did have the courtesy to look Moliira in the eye as he finally replied. “The place I protect is well protected,” he admitted, his thoughts both on the highland villages and the elementals who dwelled deep within the mountains. “It does not need me, not anymore.”

It occurred to him that the drow were also mountain-dwellers; this was the first one he had met in person, but he had not heard much good about them. His attention moved toward the fey forest. “I need a new place to protect, where my skills are needed as much as they are wanted. I am a hunter and a fighter, but I am also a descendant of the stone-men. We are wardens of the earth, and yet I know few of its lands.”

Suddenly, perhaps inexplicably, Gaius laughed. “If I would like to see a place, it is not one I yet know of. Could you…” His brow furrowed as he considered the nature of her power. “Show me?”