He had come back to the cedarwoods again, this time beginning to feel the effects that the lack of water was taking on him. His ventures far and wide had brought him back to the first and last place he had seen it. It had been from a small stream, but it had been running low in hindsight. Now all that was left were the antediluvian beds that criss-crossed the territory, and the largest of them all was no different. He had followed it back around from the field where the blackberries had grown, and had felt a since of growing of dread.

These were such beautiful lands, so why were they afflicted by such a strange thing?

A sigh escaped Damascus as he paced over the the dry river bed. The birds had quieted down for the day, leaving him in a sort of ambient silence. There were still the sounds of the world around him, but the trickle of water he had heard days ago was no longer, and everything seemed dimmer because of it. Sinking back onto his haunches at the bank of the stream he had visited, he pondered his next move. There were no guarantees that things would stay the way that they were, but then again there were no guarantees that they wouldn't change.

Silence wasn’t everlasting, needless to say, not that he was bothered by it in the slightest. It was rare that Damascus wanted to shy away from company and since he had come to Relic Lore, it had been there left and right for him to indulge in. At the sound of the bark, he turned his head towards the dark fellow who had arrived nearby. His toffee-brown eyes regarded the peppered canine warmly and his tail wagged behind him.

”Evenin’ stranger,” he called out, feigning his worries for something more cheery. ”What brings you out this way?” Probably the hunt for water, if he knew anything in particular for those days. Amelie had been looking for it, as were the others that he had seen along the way.

Exploration. There was something that they had in common. But a humorous grin split his face momentarily when the other mentioned his name. Quest. There was some parallel there, wasn't there? "I'm Damascus," he offered in return, keeping up with the good-natured feeling to their meeting. "I hope you weren't looking for water too, because there isn't any here either. There was on the first day I came here, but since then... nothing." Even though on the first day he had been there, it was like a trickle. He hadn't thought anything about it then, but now he wished he would have taken more of a note of it.

Maybe it would have told him to steer clear before he felt thirst nagging him. "But I guess we've got something in common. I'm none too familiar with the lands either. Only been around a few days." The fact that Quest had been there a few weeks and was still hashing out a mental map of the area made him wonder if it was more expansive than he thought, but Damascus wasn't too fond of making assumptions. He didn't have all of the puzzle pieces to the story yet -- not even his own.

What Quest outlined was somewhat beneficial, but nonetheless dismaying. It seemed like the locals had given him advice that had since run dry, but knowing that there were locals meant something. Unless the locals that he was thinking of were nothing more than wolves who had been around for a while; not necessarily local but like them, trying to eke out a place in the world for themselves.

"I haven't even tried digging, if that tells you anything," Damascus supplied with a twist of humour. Maybe they were thirsty, but at least he hadn't quite lost his optimistic edge. But just like the water, it was fading fast. "But needless to say, I don't think any of us will be hanging around here much longer if the water doesn't come back. Everything will die, least of all ourselves." And that would be more than just unfortunate for them. Yet it left Damascus wondering why the water was dried up. If it was dry there, then who was to say that it wasn't dry somewhere else?

But he didn't ask that question aloud, not yet.

If it were not for his humour, Damascus supposed he would have had a very miserable life. Most wolves -- at least the intelligent ones -- had an appreciation for humour, but perhaps it was the fact that on hard times it was simply all that they had. It was all any of them had. Still, a warm smile spread across his face like melting butter, but it was a little watery at best. Compliments came here and there but never enough that he wasn't sure just what to do with them. But it was no matter as the conversation continued on.

"A few years, at best," he commented, though those few years were really only a couple. Finding that Great Something only felt like it had taken literal years, and somewhere along the way he had lost his sense of time. The world was his to venture through; the day his to seize. "I've been a nomad longer than I have been a pack wolf." Winter was perhaps the only season in which he ever pulled out loyalities to any pack. Even if his stay was temporary and seasonal, Damascus give them his all. It was the least he could do.

"What about yourself?"

Quest's tail was waving behind him, no higher than his britches but not exactly between his legs either. He had a glint in his eye that had been missing for days, and he appreciated the friendly lines in Damascus' muzzle. His overall appearance was indeed one of a well-worn traveler, but the look suited him, and the friendliness that Quest felt from him was a coveted rarity. The salt-and-pepper Aquila male longed to make some sort of gesture in return to that soft smile, but years of rebuke for his attempts at any form of a physical connection with another wolf held him at bay.

"Well, we're birds of a feather, you and I," he managed to reply. A brief twitch in his smile shook him as he tried to keep the thoughts of his past from interfering with the cool composure he'd been holding. He struggled to try and tackle them without revealing more than he wanted to as he faced Damascus' question. It wasn't that Quest was a dishonest wolf, but that he did not want his past experiences to be the sum of the man he was today. "I've been traveling for about a year, more or less, with no signs of settling. I don't think I'd give this place a second glance if winter weren't approaching," he admitted. And really, he was second-guessing his second-glances, given the current state of water in Relic Lore. "But there are still wolf packs here, and I think we can measure our chances against their success. If they leave, I'll know to carry on," he ventured.