Limestone Bluff leave this blue neighborhood

that haunt me from my past

He had anticipated Veho staying away, still repulsed by what he had said. Had this been any of his older siblings, there was a high chance of them leaving him where he lay with their usual complaint, "You're such a baby, Rook... Grow up already." All he had wanted was to make them see how and what he saw; he wanted their sympathy, to be coddled and comforted so that he might remember the cause-and-effect of it all. In this instance, it was rather different, this wasn't for attention; the little Lord Rook's deer antler hadn't been stolen away and he had not been denied an extra bit of deer liver. He had been refused the sort of love he had grown used to receiving, the sort of support and affection that could have only been given to him by his father, his Leader and superior until the day he found he was capable of taking over in his stead.

Rook remained in his spot, wedged up against the gentle curve of the tunnel wall, so ready to accept that he, in that very moment, was not worthy of such assurance and that his hubris was to blame. The Macieo saw through it or, rather, seemed to understand the root of the turmoil that had sprung up from his companion. Rook's ear twitched as he felt the warmth return at his back, a soothing lick grazing over where he had received a reprimanding pinch.

There was no other way around it, Veho had said. A wince distorted Rook's face. Had he believed in the Holy Spirit still, he might have openly brought that up for discussion but left it unsaid. Perhaps this was how he was to suffer as someone without some sort of resolute sense of faith. He could deal with it, he opted; he had done everything thus far on his own, this would be no different. He had Veho. He had Quil. He had his family and a safe haven to call home.

A small whine had emitted from him then, delayed, as he found himself caught up in the envisioned memory of little Namid and Veho countering each other just like Rook and Bishop did every so often in their childhood. "I will try," he affirmed with a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. "Do...Do you... Do we know?" he asked quietly, suddenly much too focused the ground just beyond his nose. "Do we know much time he might have left? I want-- I want to have enough time to tell him goodbye."

Fortunately, the younger wolf curled back into him, and the Macieo tucked his chin over his partner’s withers. He exhaled softly, cheeks billowing out to the side as he began to get comfortable, sensing the worst of the mood to have passed. Another lick was offered, this time to the base of the younger male’s ear, and it was followed by a nose pressed into thickening winter ruff. His body settled deeper against the earth, slowly warming the earth underneath the pair of wolves as they rested, waiting out the weather.

“That you try is all I can ask. That is all anyone can ask,” Veho insisted with a gentle hum, bobbing his head. It was so easy for a wolf to push himself the more, and expect the world of himself when no one else would dream to. Such a condition was simple to recognize – the healer was well aware he often did the same thing to himself (though he had little intention of attempting to correct the destructive habit, for as dangerous as it was, it often led to excellence in his field of healing). “If anyone asks you for more than that, you send them to me, yes? I will set them straight. As I said before, grieving is an incredibly personal thing. Do not expect the others to grieve as you do, and you are allowed to lament in the way you need to heal.”

His tail began to swish behind him slowly before wrapping around Rook’s hindquarters, embracing the male as the mood slowly changed between them. The sorrow became much more evident, now that the barricade of anger had been dropped, and perhaps allowing the wound to bleed a bit would allow his partner to heal more fully. As awful as it might have sounded, Veho had no doubt the younger wolf needed to spit that poison, to get it out. If that particular injury had never been opened, never been drained, it would have been allowed to fester and rot, until it poisoned the man’s very soul. It could have been so much worse. Once aired, it could heal, and the medic would remain to make sure that stitch together it did – the medicine man did not consider himself strictly limited to injury and illness of the flesh, especially where his beloved was concerned.

Nothing Rook could do, had done, would change that. His conversation with @Belladonna evidenced that, no matter how revealing, how difficult that conversation had been for him.

“No, love. We don’t know. Can’t know. I can’t imagine it will be a terribly long time – he will probably be gone before the winter comes. A blessing, that will be, that he is not forced to deal with the cold or his snow. But it will not be overnight, if that is what you are asking. You should have a little time to get your thoughts together, if that’s what you need. And you should have the time to spend with him, if that’s your pleasure. He is not a ghost yet, but--” And he paused then, remembering that Rook had been a bit evasive the last time the topic had come up. However, it was important, and perhaps it would give the man some comfort to know his father wouldn’t be lost, even once in for the long sleep. “—but when he passes, he will become one of the Ancestors. Your Ancestor. And if you wish it, I will teach you how I communicate with mine, that you might do the same. I always find it very peaceful, myself.”

Offering the man a small smile, he nudged Rook’s cheek. “This is not an easy conversation to have. This rain will wash away what’s past. Unless you have something else you wish to ask, perhaps we should rest, mhm? We can stay until the storm passes. Longer, if that’s what oyu need.”

as the stars begin to gather

He didn't know. They... didn't know. All that was certain was that Borden's time could and would come soon. If anything else, it was perhaps best to hope that Borden would be spared the winter chill. If it had been possible to disappear into Veho's embrace, to hide away from the world, Rook would have. The world beyond their makeshift shelter and what laid in wait at the heart of Grizzly Hollow was too much to handle; and, maybe, the Medic had a point about the rain. Even if it easily washed away the markers the Hollow wolves dutifully kept, it renewed the earth and revitalized the soul.

Rook took to heart and mind everything else that had been said, remaining quiet even after Veho had suggested that they rested. "All right," he agreed, twitching his nose and lifting his tail once before settling it back over his hind legs, "and I think I would like that. It would be nice to know if he made it to the other side okay."

There was lengthy pause in which he pondered to himself if he would be able to hear and see for himself what his brothers had been meaning to say whenever he came to visit their boulders alongside Jasper Rocks. Maybe there was a way to decipher the gusts of wind or coincidentally well-timed bird chirps whenever he tried for himself to pray or offer a question up to the heavens. Eventually, he let out a sign of his own, emotionally and physically worn out from the distress he had brought upon himself. "Just for the night and the morning after," he whispered, mostly for himself as a reminder that this single night away from @Quil and @Tomen's den would not be lost on his mate and son. "Before anyone might suspect anything. Just for now, I need to know only you... Just us."

His eyes slowly closed, forcing himself to shut out the rest of the world. "Tell me again the names of your favorite plants?" he prompted with a request he had only just begun to favor and ask of the well-practiced Healer, simply wanting to get lost in the sound of the older wolf's voice. "Whisper the names of all the trees that you've found on the way to the river just before you met me..."

Veho made a soft noise, nosing into the thick ruff as he nodded. “Of course. Just for tonight and the wee hours,” he agreed, trying to bite back the hint of sadness threatening to color his voice as he hid his expression. His traitorous mind wandered back to the conversation he’d had with @Belladonna near the marsh that seemed to swallow wolves and he sighed, deflating slightly as he took a moment to school the disappoint from his expression. Of course no one wanted to feel like they were getting only the scraps, but it was greedy to even consider asking for anything more. Yesterday I was alone. Today, you are here. Something’s still unclear, and something not yet here has begun. This was the role he took, and he could not ask to change it now. Rook gave what he could, and he would be happy with that.

Once he’d settled into a more comfortable position, he nosed into his partner again before he nodded, agreeing to the simply request. He would do anything, really, if it helped the younger wolf find some sleep, if only for a few hours. “As you wish,” Veho murmured gently, pausing for a moment to groom the alpha for a few moments until he gathered his thoughts. “There were a great many trees on my walk from the mountain. Most notably were the cedars, red cedar smells so distinctive. The needles on my feet…”

Fade.