Ida had barely finished the question when the stranger blurted out her answer; it took a second for the great dame to register the other had even spoken, but once it had, her jaws split with a burst of rough, loud laughter. She decided then that she liked that answer, and similarly so, she liked the wolf that gave it.
"That's th' problem with packs," she huffed, though it took several seconds for her laughter to subside. "Always great. n' suddenly it ain't! n' yuh can't do a damn thing about it," besides leave voluntarily or get kicked to the curb, but Ida was far too distracted with other pressing matters to rant about her problems with authority.
Her ears pricked as their conversation turned towards Maureen's theory, and a conflicting mixture of surprise and suspicion flashed across her beady gaze. The stubborn part of her brain didn't want to believe that this really was an entirely different land, for how could such a thing be possible? Yet Ida was not blind nor stupid, and she'd seen things here she could have never imagined existing in her old home. The stranger told her of many worlds, each of which she'd apparently fallen through and each of which different and strange in their own distinct ways. It made Ida's head spin just imagining the whiplash of living so many lifetimes, only to be ripped away and have to start all over somewhere new whenever fate demanded it.
"Just how old are yuh?" she blurted out, still too preoccupied wrapping her brain around all this new information to think of anything cleverer to ask. According to her, yes, this was a completely new world, and no, Ida could never go home again. Everything would be different now, and it all traced back to wills. Somehow, that word rang familiar.
"Wills, wills," Ida muttered, "like uh soul?" Absentmindedly then, she raised her paw and felt the back of her skull, the memory of it crunching against the stone still uncomfortably fresh in her mind as she furrowed her brow in thought. Maybe she hadn't been too far off the mark when she'd first assumed this place was an afterlife. Maybe not hell, though. She took a deep breath, expression still thoughtful as the next question was posed to her.
Knowing there was no way back, what to do?
Another rumbling laugh passed through her chest, and the great dame knew then that nothing could be done. She was here now, after all--it was only forwards now. "I ain't one fer turnin' tail. Guess that just applies tuh lifetimes too, huh?" Ida rose to her paws, bracing her fur and flesh against the autumn wind as she rolled her heavy shoulders and popped her stiff neck. She turned back towards the smaller wolf, jowls splitting to show a strange grin of blunted, crushing fangs. "Name's Ida. You?"
"That's th' problem with packs," she huffed, though it took several seconds for her laughter to subside. "Always great. n' suddenly it ain't! n' yuh can't do a damn thing about it," besides leave voluntarily or get kicked to the curb, but Ida was far too distracted with other pressing matters to rant about her problems with authority.
Her ears pricked as their conversation turned towards Maureen's theory, and a conflicting mixture of surprise and suspicion flashed across her beady gaze. The stubborn part of her brain didn't want to believe that this really was an entirely different land, for how could such a thing be possible? Yet Ida was not blind nor stupid, and she'd seen things here she could have never imagined existing in her old home. The stranger told her of many worlds, each of which she'd apparently fallen through and each of which different and strange in their own distinct ways. It made Ida's head spin just imagining the whiplash of living so many lifetimes, only to be ripped away and have to start all over somewhere new whenever fate demanded it.
"Just how old are yuh?" she blurted out, still too preoccupied wrapping her brain around all this new information to think of anything cleverer to ask. According to her, yes, this was a completely new world, and no, Ida could never go home again. Everything would be different now, and it all traced back to wills. Somehow, that word rang familiar.
"Wills, wills," Ida muttered, "like uh soul?" Absentmindedly then, she raised her paw and felt the back of her skull, the memory of it crunching against the stone still uncomfortably fresh in her mind as she furrowed her brow in thought. Maybe she hadn't been too far off the mark when she'd first assumed this place was an afterlife. Maybe not hell, though. She took a deep breath, expression still thoughtful as the next question was posed to her.
Knowing there was no way back, what to do?
Another rumbling laugh passed through her chest, and the great dame knew then that nothing could be done. She was here now, after all--it was only forwards now. "I ain't one fer turnin' tail. Guess that just applies tuh lifetimes too, huh?" Ida rose to her paws, bracing her fur and flesh against the autumn wind as she rolled her heavy shoulders and popped her stiff neck. She turned back towards the smaller wolf, jowls splitting to show a strange grin of blunted, crushing fangs. "Name's Ida. You?"