JOBLESS MONDAY — MASS NEWCOMER M&G

[Evelyn]

She thinks there's something familiar about wandering aimlessly through the vast unknown⁠—familiar, in a bittersweet sense. Traveling has always been one of the few constants in her life, regardless of what consequences came with her disappearance. Her paws could never stay still long enough to leave its imprints on the ground beneath her. She thinks she hasn't left her mark in the world because of it, but it's alright. It's alright. Anything else that she needs from the world, she already has with her.

So when their group inevitably decided to settle, she was stunned but didn't hesitate to tag along. Their decisions were her decisions, shared and united, and she followed them unquestioningly as they sought their place in the world, in Elysium. An echo of a memory had flashed behind her eyes at the sight of the kingdom carved into the mountainside, but she'd blinked and willed it away, feeling the sharpness recede from the flat of her tongue.

It's a quiet place, perhaps too quiet, with only a handful lingering faces milling about, but she doesn't mind. She finds a place for herself just outside of the mountain; she builds a ground nest between a ring of trees, collecting sticks and fronds and undergrowth and weaving them around their trunks to provide some sense of privacy in the space between them. It's big enough, she thinks, big enough for her and Malkyn, and when she's satisfied with the makeshift walls, she starts wandering the territory in search of items to add into her new nest.

It's during one of these escapades that she comes across Cav again, a familiar sight in these unfamiliar lands. Talia decides that it might as well be a sign for her to take a break from her hunt, and she turns to Cav with a slight but warm smile; she wonders, has it really been so long ago since they first met? She thinks she'll follow him anywhere, trusting his guidance as she has trusted it before. She's come this far, after all, following the pawsteps that he left behind. What's a few steps more?

A sound spills out from between her teeth, a quiet chuff in greeting as she settles close, but not too close, tucking paws beneath her thick chest and curling her long, leathery tail around herself like an outline. For a moment, she's silent, enjoying the serenity of the moment before she starts feeling a fidget deep within her bones, a restlessness carried over from her excitable youth.

"Hey," she murmurs in a whisper, looking playfully conspiratory. She jokes as if she hasn't gone through what she has, but she thinks she has to hold onto her humor, if nothing else."Should I worry that people don't seem to really notice that we're here? Either they're really disconnected, or we've completely lost our spunk."

ooc. RUST·Y
/ˈrəstē/
1. (of a metal object) affected by rust.
2. (of knowledge or a skill) impaired by lack of recent practice
3. this trash post