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+--- Forum: Place for Dreams (https://thefirstage.org/forums/forum-28.html)
+--- Thread: Reclaiming Pack (/thread-1935.html)
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RE: Reclaiming Pack - Thalia - 12-30-2025
It wasn’t her name, but it was enough of an anchor to her when that it hooked her out of the depths. The maudlin edge of her mood remained, though, and a kin to the wolves did nothing to erase its weight in her chest, even one who inquired over her wellbeing. Everyone leaves, she almost said. But it was the inevitable fate of a fixed point in a world always turning, and it wasn’t in her nature to complain. Alone was not new. She ran her hands over her face and swallowed. Red blooms dropped from her curls as her fingers raked: crumbling poppy petals. The memories drifted on calmer tides. She ran her finger over the script inside her arm. Nimeda. My name is Nimeda.
“Am I not supposed to be here?” she asked. “I will leave if the wolves want me to.”
RE: Reclaiming Pack - Sierra - 01-02-2026
The woman looked sad. Sierra knew this wasn't Thalia. "You don't have to leave. Maybe you can help us. You know Tristan, Wyldfire, Sunsnatcher." Sierra wondered what name she knew him buy. She projected an image of the man in to the dream. It was like an image painted in the fog.
"He's lost out here somewhere. You and he will freeze to death if they don't get help. Can you help?"
RE: Reclaiming Pack - Thalia - 01-08-2026
The woman didn’t seem perturbed by her presence, so Nimeda let the brief moment of resigned tension drain away. She didn’t stand, just stayed kneeling in the sand with her hands curled in her lap. No introduction was offered, but she didn’t comment on it; her Other’s name had floated between them moments ago, so she knew the woman recognised her, and perhaps presumed recognition in return.
The names listed had meaning, and she knew each one, though none were the one she called him most often. Nimeda glanced over the misty image, but only really to show she was paying attention.
With Need she had pulled the Vanagandr to her before now, but though the woman spoke like she expected Nimeda to know what was going on, she realised they were talking about his body in the waking world, not here. The last she’d seen him, he had promised to aid the Guardian and her child in her stead. This was not that island, though.
She ran her finger over her arm, following the script by feel. Her thoughts were bleeding away, and she didn’t try to stop them. Nimeda couldn’t fathom how the wolves had lost one of their own. Though how much the Vanagandr was truly theirs she did not know, just that he felt torn in his soul in ways that filled her with grief. But it was not her place to question it in his absence, and Nimeda never turned away her aid when it was honestly asked.
“I know what it was here once, and will be again. That doesn’t help anyone, though.” Her eyes swept the landscape before landing on the woman properly. Then she upturned a palm and held it out in solemn invitation. Sometimes the kin were wary of her, sometimes they weren’t. She didn’t expect this one would be, and there were no wolves at her heels to warn her away. “Need will help if it is strong enough,” she said. She’d been told countless times that it was a dangerous way to travel, to disperse yourself like that, but Nimeda had always trusted the dream’s currents.