He’d woken up before sunrise, unable to fall back asleep despite feeling like he’d hardly slept at all. Not wanting to disturb the rest of his family, still blissfully dozing in the den, he’d slipped out into the foggy morning, hoping a brisk stroll would help him relax. The king of Wild Rye Fields seemed to be in a perpetual state of exhaustion these days, never feeling rested no matter how much he slept. At first he had thought it was just exertion from the trip, but after a month back home, he still didn’t feel better. Of course leading a pack was no breezy task, and neither was being a father of three, surprisingly rambunctious, pups. But he’d managed well before going, hadn’t he? He certainly couldn’t remember being this exhausted all the time; And I know I didn’t sleep this much! There was the obvious explanation: that he was getting old. There was no denying that the Avalon was growing on in years, the quickly spreading greying around his muzzle and down his belly spoke clearly enough of that; As did the ache in his stiff joints provoked by the cold morning air.

But there were other things that might be adding to his increased stress. They had lost two members while he was gone, their youngest and among the most recent joiners. Disappeared without a word, like so many other pack mates throughout Drestig’s time in Relic Lore. Not that the normalcy made their betrayal hurt any less. Especially Rosalind, Darrah’s daughter who had raised many more questions than she answered, and was now gone without the two of them having ever discussed the whole thing thoroughly. The dark man sighed; So tired..! On top of their losses, it seemed like the older members weren’t quite as active as they used to be, perhaps just as tired as their leaders. The alpha noted particularly @Askan's scent being more stale than usual, as he crossed the western border.

The churning thoughts made it impossible to relax, and he’d given up on going back to sleep entirely, heading into the woods southwest of the pack, wandering rather aimlessly, simply for the sake of moving. That was until the scent of hare hit his nostrils, and he figured he might as well get something useful out of this sleeplessness. The animal was easy enough to track down, and soon the old man was racing through the underbrush in a hectic chase. He pushed with everything to catch up, and was almost ready to pounce when a shooting pain through his shoulder stopped him mid-stride. The rabbit continued on, probably celebrating its brief escape when another wolf took it by surprise. Meanwhile, Drestig was gasping and gritting his teeth at the cramp contorting his leg; Damn it!

Mind dominated by the pain, he completely missed the hare’s quick end at somebody else's teeth. It was only when the spasms began to wear off, and the other called out through the fog that he even noticed her. His head shot up, ears and tail instinctively rising in alert, though he winced slightly as he squared his shoulders. Up ahead, the white woman was well masked by the fog, looking almost like she was a part of it, a ghostly apparition. Except she had spoken, with a distinct and faintly familiar voice, and her face stood out more clearly, thanks to the broad, pinkish streaks across her muzzle. The dark man’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and it took a moment before he was able to talk, calling out in disbelief: “Athena?” Stepping slowly towards her, it became clearer and clearer that she wasn’t a ghost - as much as it felt like it - and it was indeed her. And he had no idea what to say.

Word count: 637

"Speech" Thoughts

He’d developed quite a skill for forgetting over the years, burying the painful memories so deep, it was like they never happened in the first place. His family’s death, the fight with Galley, all hidden away in the darkest corner of his mind. But he could never manage to forget Silver, no matter how hard he’d tried in the beginning. Eventually he had moved on, but it had taken a long time and effort, uprooting from Oak Tree Bend, and Jessie’s support. Without Jessie, he doubted he could have ever gotten this far. But the memories of his first mate was still there, bittersweet feelings and images, flashing through his mind every now and then; Mostly good ones now, but still painful. Seeing Athena though, brought that time back to him, every detail vivid in his mind. And he stood frozen, staring straight at her but not really seeing, as gruesome images flashed before his eyes, invisible, icy claws tightening around his throat.

Her question was almost lost to his ears, a mere whisper against the roar of rushing blood. The old man shook his head, first lightly and then more intensely, trying to shake the strangling memories. “Sorry I-I…” He stammered, blinking to get the scarred face back in focus; She doesn’t remember..? Of course, their meeting had been brief, mostly polite introductions. He’d been there for her, as she made her goodbyes before coming with him to the Bend. To her end. It occurred to Drestig that he had the opportunity to lie, if she didn’t remember who he was, then he didn’t have to be the one to tell her…

But then another voice broke into his thoughts, somberly speaking his name as a russet figure drew up beside the pale woman. The dark man blinked again, furrowing his brows, now it was his time to be confused. “That’s right…” He drawled, looking the other wolf over through squinting eyes. Yes, he remembered, he’d met the burly man on his journey north, in the field along with Gent; Not exactly a pleasant encounter… What was the name again? Something Hervok, Nina’s brother; Red-pelt..? That was all he remembered. What a nice little gathering they were, squinting and frowning, trying to remember one another. Seeing no other option, Drestig turned back to Athena, clearing his throat before explaining: “Dreatig Avalon’s the name, we met once. I… was Silver’s mate.”

Word count: 401

"Speech" Thoughts