Hollowheart Keep the sound of iron shocks

March 27th; Afternoon; Clear; 18° F/-8° C.

The days seemed to be getting warmer and the sun seemed to be trying its best in shining through the bare branches that made up the canopy over the Ghastly Woods, but the chill in Mapplethorpe's bones seemed unwilling to leave his half-starved frame. What energy he had stored up had been spent and, even though a stomach full of mostly snow seemed to help on the days he went without food, the hydration did little to motivate him to continue his daily routine of patrolling around the borders of his domain. Up against a tree not far from the underground den, the patriarch rested, his frost-bitten limbs tucked close to his belly and underneath his neck and throat. Once or twice he stood up to shift himself beneath a slowly traveling sunspot on the ground, relying on the dark patches of his coat to warm himself.

As he laid there soaking up what little sunbeams filtered down to the forest floor, he tried taking a few deep breaths, aiming to focus on something other than the tired muscles in his joints and neck. Naira, while she had gone off to get some fresh air and stretch her limbs, had assigned him with the task of naming the cubs growing within her belly. At a few weeks in, there wasn't much to feel or even see just yet, but something told him it would be wise to pick not just a masculine and feminine sort of name, but something that was timeless and becoming on an outstanding young gentleman or lady.

Aside from thinking up names, today he had meant to seek out his Second-in-command and trusted Guardian, @Chulyin, but with his back and shoulder hurting a little more than before, he remained in a heap on the ground with his tail pressed tightly against his side. If anything was to be done today, the names would be chosen, and he would report to Naira in the evening... if he ever thought up a mental list of suitable names. The more he dwelled on it, the more he also realized that perhaps he was right in thinking he would be better off being idle to rest and 'recharge.' After all, since he had trained the young Slayer as early as he had, he could always leave the promise of checking the borders and counting the caches for another day. Between the names Asphodel and Hermione, he quickly offered a silent token of thanks to boy. For now, until Mapplethorpe felt he could move without too much discomfort, Karpos would be his ears and eyes.

There were to be more mouths to feed as the snow melted into flowers. Not just the mouths of strangers, displaced by the winter's shock, but the mouths of children growing within his dearest sister. It put Chulyin on edge. The knowledge that another woman seemed to have disappeared into the snow was not on the forefront of his mind, and instead, the man seemed to fret like a grandmother over his littermate. His usual catharsis had been hunting, which had been more than necessary in the season, but the winds had, quite literally, changed, and even if prey had not started to flourish again, he could not bring himself to take more than two steps beyond the borders. Once again, the air of odd camaraderie that had grown around the man in recent months had receded as he took his place as a true knight once again, whose copper eyes knew only the form of his sister.

The great shadowy man lurked about the den site, occasionally altering his course to weave into the wood, before doubling back. Each sound gave him pause while he identified its source and moved on again. There were no threats here. Not yet, at least. He would trundle on, occasionally casting his eyes up towards the sky to remind himself of the time of day. Time moved slowly when one was pacing. Shoulders hunched forward, he heaved a particularly insidious tangle of wood away, one that had been weighted down by the months of snow, and in such effort, came upon the scent of his other leader, his kind, Mapplethorpe. Though he carried nothing literal of importance, he was still the king, and Chulyin had made a promise to him, as he had to the entire pack. He could not recall exchanging many words with the elder man over the past few months, though it was likely that they'd been overshadowed by other events, and Chulyin knew that there were things to be done, other than ensuring the safety of Naira, as the snows melted away. Chulyin made a note to keep a nose out for the cryptic man, as well, knowing that he was quite a vital part of Naira.

Swinging about, he moved in a direction that was void of his scent, finding that he was exerting unnecessary efforts based on the precipitation upon the ground. He'd grown accustomed to plowing through massive drifts of snow, and even those were now becoming scarce. He lightened his gait, and found himself less out of breath when he found the man resting in a sunspot. He paused about a yard away, head level, gaze forward, rather than down. "Mapplethorpe, sir," He addressed the man as though he had stumbled upon him on accident.

His eyes were blissfully closed when Chulyin's voice washed over him. One russet ear twitched atop his head before a golden eye opened with a soft grunt of acknowledgement. Before the other eye opened, he deeply inhaled and let out a soft sigh. When his head came up at last, he gazed up into the shadow-like figure that was the pack's lead Guardian. Where he would have normally said his usual spiel of making sure the pack was doing well, the caches were full, and the borders had been checked, he simply blinked.

Mapplethorpe righted his head again, leveling it so that it sat properly above his shoulders. "I was hoping you would come by," he said at last, his eyes flickering up to the dark knight. He cleared his throat, but it still did not stave away the tiredness in his tone or the weariness in his posture. His head came back down to rest on his paws. "I've been meaning to ask you a favor, Chulyin, but I haven't been able to catch up with you recently." He shifted onto his side so that he could face his companion, bearing his weight on his good elbow and right side, even if it still hurt against the hard-packed snow.

His tail wagged slightly, lifting twice before settling back down. A wince marred his face as he closed his eyes, struggling to lift his left fore limb and reposition it. "I have an important favor and request to ask of you, if you'd be so kind to take a moment of your busy agenda to take a break."

The man set his copper eyes upon his leader, wondering for just a moment if he ought to speak up. Mapplethorpe had shifted his position, acknowledged Chulyin where he stood, though it was silent for longer than made Chulyin comfortable. He hoped to bypass all pleasantries and inquire after what needed to be done to ensure the survival of this next generation. The words hardly formed in the cusp of his throat when Mapplethorpe lifted his head, regarding his guardian. Chulyin swallowed, his head canting slightly attempting to seem at attention, but with the man on the ground, it was hard to actually see him. His head was not tipped for long, before he let his chin tuck slightly as he looked down upon his leader. Slowly, his hindquarters descended upon the snow, where they shifted in discomfort for a moment, before he settled, ears tipped forward to listen.

There was a spark of surprise within the second's copper eyes upon hearing, suddenly a bit curious as to what Mapplethorpe might need him for. Certainly more than border checks and ensuring the dens were in stable order. The longer Chulyin sat, however, the spark faded and dark brows came down over his eyes. The well-spoken wolf seemed tired, more than usual...It had never really dawned upon Chulyin as to how old Mapplethorpe could be, but he had always seemed in good spirits and health. He left his worry to boil in the back of his mind for the time being, awaiting the order of Mapplethorpe.

Dipping his head obediently, Chulyin grunted in appeasement. Even if he hadn't any time, he would have made some.

While Chulyin did not utter even the slightest word, Mapplethorpe was able to see in the swarthy knight's face that he was listening, even before he made a sound to acknowledge him. Now that he had the guard's attention though, the Leader looked away in thought. The swiveling of his ears back and forward again signaled that he was contemplating something, but when he finally came to, he gave Chulyin a small smile. "Sorry," he apologetically mumbled. "I was wondering if... if you..." For a man of usually many words, it caught him by surprise how hard it was for him to let everything go and just be vulnerable for once.

"I need your help," he stated slowly, "and I just want to be prepared." It probably had been obvious that Mapplethorpe would have wanted such a thing, but to say it out loud was a start. "I want you to be active in your nephews and nieces' lives, to help them grow and teach them things that they might not understand when I first explain it to them." His nose scrunched up at the silliness of such a vision, hime, of all wolves, lending them the wisdom he had acquired when he was a pup.

"I loved my uncle when I was younger," his smile at last touched his eyes, tugging at the dark line markings beneath his eyes. "Well, he wasn't my uncle, exactly, but he was my father's keeper. He was my role model when I didn't have one and he taught me most of the things that I know today." He thought something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, but instead of returning his gaze to the Guardian, he stared downward at the snow and earth in front of him, "I need someone to be there for them, just like they would for Naira. I need to know that if, by any circumstance, I am no longer here, someone will look after them when I'm gone."

It might have been too sudden and pessimistic to bring up, but the Hollowheart Keep Leader was simply trying to make sure that certain affairs would be tended to in a "worst case scenario" and he was taken away by the Undertaker. When he brought his gaze back to Chulyin's face, the shift of sunlight made the gaunt structure of his face show his age as newfound worry creased his whiskered brows. Winter had not been kind, but at least he had made sure that the ones he loved had survived - a morsel there, a scrap of willow bark here, a piece of leftover goat and pronghorn for the cubs, a scavenged bone for Naira... - never mind if he never remembered or kept track when he had last eaten.

The dark man waited at attention, eyes trained carefully upon the Adviser. He did not worry himself with what could come from the elder man's mouth, and so left his mind something of a blank slate. Fleeting thoughts of what needed to be done later in the day moved through his mind. His ears swiveled of their own accord atop his head, always listening, always aware, though they likely heard nothing unless it was truly important. They snapped forward as Mapplethorpe spoke, a quiet apology, though Chulyin hadn't really noticed the exaggerated silence, slowly stretching out between them. He wasn't often bored. Chulyin made himself busy, lest he become consumed by superficial things. His head cocked slightly as the usually well-versed man suddenly seemed to be fumbling with his words. A forepaw moved forward as though he had prepared himself to assist his superior, but Mapplethorpe resumed with a coherent stream before his hindquarters left the ground.

The look of concern that had crossed his facade just a moment before reappeared. His tongue darted forth, quickly passing over his jowls in a split second of anxiety. An audible breath, pushed from strained lungs, came through his nostrils, and his amber eyes fell as a sudden weight fell upon him. But like all the things that had come to pass, each dropping their own heft upon his shoulders, he remained upright, and would continue to do so...Steadily and willingly. The realization that the man that laid before him might one day not be here was startling to Chulyin. Even more so was the fact that the man admitted it. After a moment, Chulyin lifted his gaze, a pained expression upon his face. "I will do what needs to be done," He spoke finally, staring hard upon the man's thin face. "It would be an honor to teach them, sir."

Chulyin paused for a moment, thoughtful for once, rather than waiting. "You ought not tempt such thoughts, though, sir," He said finally, seriously. "Perhaps I could find something for you to eat. You ought to eat." He drew up to his paws, tail swaying slowly behind his back.

"I will do what needs to be done,"he dark knight assured him and for the first time in quite a while, the pleased and grateful expression touched his eyes and fully tugged the corners of his black-lined lips upward. And, as if that had not been enough, Chulyin added, "It would be an honor to teach them, sir." The silence came back between them and for those few moments, Mapplethorpe merely smiled, absolutely appreciative of Naira's brother and for all that he had done and what he had just declared that he would do... for him, for Naira, for his nieces and/or nephews, for the pack, and the legacy that would be left behind if and when the fates had decided to lay him to rest.

The Guardian continued to actually discourage the Leader from thinking such things, but, really, in all actuality, the patriarch had always been wary of it - the awareness and realizations that one day he would no longer living and that the world would carry on without him... whether he liked it or not. To be safe, he had always been sure to be at peace with such an idea, even at a young age, so that he could make certain that his time spent living would be well worth it all. The Guard stood up and Mapplethorpe's eyes drew upward with his companion's movements. "That could be nice," he admitted in a quieter tone, oblivious to what spoils laid just within their reach, somewhere through the trees. "Whatever you find, I'll be fine with a few bites of it. The rest you may have for yourself..."

Though Chulyin felt as though his first duty was to Naira (and perhaps Mapplethorpe would not disagree), he had a deep seated respect for the upon the ground. From the oath he'd made upon becoming a member of his pack, to right now, as he laid before him, smiling. Thorpe seemed to know what he wanted and the precise ways to acquire it. Not only that, he was respected by Chulyin's sister, and that alone left Chulyin under the pale man's command. Death aside, he was truly honored to be asked such a thing, to teach the leaders' children. Without his own, he could only feel as though his nieces and nephews might be as his own. Although the pack's current eldest didn't seem to pay him much mind, he kept on them to the best of his abilities. It was probably somewhat obvious that children just were not his forte.

With a dip of his head, Chulyin turned away from the man, moving into the brush. His nostrils flared, twitching hyperactively. As luck would have it, the scent of deer drifted on the wind towards him. It was not far, thankfully just over the border. It reeked of feline which caused Chulyin's ears to tip back. It was something to warn @Sagacity of later, when she'd be scouting. Grasping the limp creature by the neck, he hauled it back to Mapplethorpe's resting place, and dropped it at his paws. For a moment, he pondered warning the man of the lynx as well, but he would undoubtedly smell it upon the carcass just as Chulyin had.