Whisper Caverns maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place

Revon turned to look at him and he wanted to give her a smirk but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he locked eyes with her until she looked away back towards the mountain and then he followed suit. It was easier to stare at the rocky expanse than to try and put into words exactly where he had come from and why he was even alive to this pup who when she got really angry or overwhelmed she said whatever. A child like that could never understand where he had been raised.

Luckily, Revon didn’t pry and part of Wendigo was strangely disappointed, part of him wanted to see her expression when she learned. Her question however ground any thoughts to a halt. He kept moving their slow meander but he was silent for longer than he should have been, ”I don’t know. I can’t go back without finishing what I was supposed to do; they’ll kill me. But, if I don’t go back eventually they’ll come find me and kill me anyways.” Either way he winds up dead.

Her frown deepened at his words, confusion brewing in the pit of her stomach. She was fascinated about where he had come from but she did not know if she wanted to hear the secrets that Wendigo kept bottled up. Truthfully she was thankful that she had been raised by good wolves and that her parents, for the most part, were normal. What were you supposed to do? She asked boldly as she gave into her curiosity, her fiery gaze landing on the dark yearling briefly before returning forward. Revon knew she was testing her luck and didn’t expect the boy to answer her. It was none of her business, even if she was involved in whatever plan his pack, or family, had cooked up. Well, y’could always stay. Near the mountain, I mean. M’parents might come to reason if I talk to 'em alone. She shrugged. Part of her wanted him to remain on the mountain, and the other half wanted him to stay as far away as possible. Mostly because she feared her parents wouldn’t ever be reasoned with—especially her mother. S’whatever, though.

Well she certainly had not been expecting that. She hummed, considering his words as he tried to swallow the horror that filled the back of her throat like bile. Was that why he was so inclined to return her to the mountain—so that he could kill her? She glanced over at him, cautiously but with a smooth, unreadable expression. He didn’t look like a killer. The scarlet Archer had spent enough time with the gangly yearling to know that he was incapable of harming her. Or, at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Well, she started, her voice level despite her sudden increase of nerves, y’haven’t killed me yet, so y’can’t be all bad. She shrugged, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth before she nudged his shoulder with her nose. C’mon, she hummed once more, her tail sweeping behind her, thought you were supposed to be quick, huh? Her pace quickened as she sauntered past the older male, her chin raised slightly. Part of her wanted to drag her paws, make the trip take longer, but the other part missed her parents (and mountain) terribly.

Poor Revon.

Fade — thread complete.

wheat kings and pretty things

let's just see what the morning brings