a dusty lane

All welcome from GH. Special attention of @Rook @Jaysyek @Hocus

Nostalgia was a powerful thing. It had been nearly one and a half years since she had stopped thinking regularly about the cedarwood forest and the willows and that mountain, which, incidentally, was a lot closer than she remembered. Though she had grown up with grand ideas for herself and the Hollow, that had all changed when the Lyalls had abandoned it completely. The Reach was home now, where her heart had settled and her roots had set. She had known for a long time that she would die in its more open landscape, not among these cedars.

But it hadn't been the same for her father and mother. Their bonds were here, with the territory they had founded and built together, and it only made sense that her old man would finally find his peace in it. The news had been hard to hear, but she hadn't doubted its truth, coming from Ryvet who said that he'd witnessed it. Truthfully, she'd been waiting for it, expecting it. When they'd left to find him help - stay, she'd urged, but to no avail, and she hadn't pressed it - she knew it was her last chance to look upon her father's face. There were so many regrets, so many mistakes made in her youth which she wanted to make up for, wanted him to witness her accomplishing, but he had to go, and she had already done so much. It would never be enough. With her parents leaving the Ridge, Trisden stepped up again. Whatever ailed Borden, she didn't want worry about this pack to be another of them. She would make him proud.

Now he was gone. The news had come some time ago, not long after the event, but it had not been the right time to take a trip. With winter approaching, the Reach needed her more than ever, and while she yearned to see the home they had re-built, practicality took over, as it so often did - Trisden Lyall was nothing if not practical. Yet, despite that, with her father alive, there had always been this barrier - this belief that they could come back, could reclaim what they had made, that the Reach wasn't truly hers. Not that she wanted it badly enough to wish them gone, far from it - while they lived as a ruling pair, Trisden ever came second. She would ever bow her head at their approach. Though she was approaching five years old she was still their daughter, dutiful as the day she had decided that nothing, nothing was more important than this family.

But he wasn't coming back, and the Reach needed a replacement. Finally, after so long, it was hers, and it was bitter and sweet both.

See, it shows that the cedarwoods had long fallen from her thoughts, for when she heard the word Lyall it came synonymous with Renegade, not Grizzly, and the air she imagined was cool and clear and not full of forest, and the faces she saw were of Solva and Wicket and Torvald and the others who were not of their blood but had become family all the same, and to whom the name Relic Lore meant nothing more than the place some of the Lyalls had once lived, and who didn't have their own name like that? Sure there were members who had come with them from this place, but Relic Lore was firmly in their past as much as it was in Trisden's. So it was entirely surreal to be back here, as though she had just unwound years of her life. It was even more surreal to find out how much was familiar, the simple act of walking through the woods as powerful as walking straight through her childhood. She'd known these lands, once. Really known them, and cherished them, and imagined a future forever within them. The strength of it moved her enough that Trisden needed to stop, to just absorb it, to process it - for it was difficult to walk in a world where she was a yearling again and yet her dad was dead.

There was a weariness to her step as finally their scents wound their way into her consciousness. She couldn't have mistaken it for anything. To have Rook in her nose again was a dear relief, for she had missed his presence dearly, his light-hearted good nature a refreshing contrast to her more dour, serious manner, and she was content in the knowledge that he would've been here when it happened. But oh, her poor brother to have to cope with such a thing - at least he had not been alone. By Ryvet's account, Renier and Hocus had been there, Hocus, oh to see him again. Trisden didn't know whether the thought filled her with joy or dread.

Paws lightly kneading the ground, because even the dirt was sending pangs of memory down her spine, she gazed through the quiet trees and tried to imagine what it would have been like to stay, or to have come with them and rebuilt her childhood home. Maybe in a different lifetime.

Ears pulling back, her cry was short and succinct, the confident, effortless manner of a leader running through her tone even though she didn't have any real authority here. For a short while, Grizzly Hollow could be home again. And so Trisden was home.

(This post was last modified: Mar 23, 2016, 03:22 PM by Trisden.)

omg i can't believe i forgot about this!! :CC @Rook @Jaysek. We'll see how long hokey can last

It was a voice he had not heard in almost three years that pulled him through the forests, all the way to the outer rim. His heart pounded and he did not know what to think or feel besides the certainty that he should not shy from this meeting. It made it a little easier that Hocus guessed her reason for being here, now: she probably wished to see Borden's grave. In the end, though, it had always surprised him that she, the spitfire, the angier sibling had been the one to forgive Borden when he had not. Hocus had never felt Borden's abandonment in their childhood as keenly as his sister had, and yet he had no sympathy in him for the old man. His death was almost a relief to the white saint who was always uncomfortable in the old Lyall's presence, who had no patience for the mental sickness that had taken hold of Borden, that he passed away finally several months ago. That it took Trisden so long to come was something, but since she had inherited the Reach, no doubt she had her paws tied.

But even his feelings about his father were much clearer than his emotions where they concerned his littermate. In the past whenever she had surfaced in his meditations or dreams he felt disquieted. Was it guilt? Disgust? No, the disgust was for Kiche alone. He wished, he thought at first, that he had left the Pilgrimage when she had, that he had not abandoned her like their father had. But then what kind of man would he be? Hocus did not want to be this other man. But he was so different now from his sister. This was what he didn't like. They had been so close as children and now she was more or less a stranger, related in blood to him but just as obscure as Rook. He actually couldn't even say for certain that they were different at all, he had no idea what three years could have done to Trisden. The Reach was not so far from the Meadows that she was physically impossible to visit, but Kiche had made it mentally, spiritually unsafe to see her. Was he even still there?

Standing before him was a fully matured woman with the hints of a wolf he had known as a child. It had to be Trisden, even though she was taller and fuller and more regal than he had known. Age had brought out the Lyall mask on her face, enough that she looked like her father's daughter. With a tight mouth, the man stared at her. He had no idea what to do with his tail. This was his territory now, should he raise it? The two of them were both leaders of their own domain, but neither of those domains were here. But they were also family. He could have moved his tail through any of the possible positions, but feared that would look too much like tail wagging. And so his tail hung stiffly behind him, uncertain. Then, there was the matter of what to say. Somehow this was easier. "Pangur be with you." Even though Pangur meant two different things to the both of them.

Though she waited silently, gaze calmly forward and ears held out, waiting for a reaction to her call, Trisden was not used to being patient. Back home, such a demand would have had wolves scurrying to her side in moments, but she had to keep reminding herself that this was not her Reach, and there would be no-one to hop to her summons save for those who recognised her voice. And just how many would there be who did? Tongue clucking quietly against the roof of her mouth, her lips thinned as the forest remained silent without even a howl in response, jaw clenching.

She hadn't come all this way for nothing, had she?

The sound of someone approaching caught an ear, which flicked up and towards it, her eyes swiftly following. Expecting to see the familiar Lyall mask of Rook, instead she glimpsed white fur, and her heart leapt to her mother - but instantly she realised that wasn't right. The agitated tension in her shoulders relaxed as she stared at her littermate, her body feeling as though it were deflating, her jaw a little slack. He really was here. She'd prepared greetings for all of them except @Hocus.

Humourously, he was as stumped as she on how to behave, the awkward stiffness with which her larger brother held himself a shining beacon of his hesitation. Even after all those years, after how they had parted first at the Pilgrimage and later at the Reach, he was no stranger to her. The way he stood, the colour of his eyes, the angle at which he held his head - it was all familiar.

Briefly she felt a flash of frustration towards the man, who had come into the Reach three years ago with a pregnant woman at his heels only to leave again after he could not reconcile his differences with Kiche. Trisden watched Hocus, not afraid to make the first move but so intensely curious to see what he would say, wanting to hear how he would greet the sister he had been at emotional and spiritual odds with for so long. She had loved him so dearly as children. She found she loved him so still, this large white man who, by all rights, should have felt like a stranger.

Pangur be with you. And there it was. Of course he hadn't forgotten, but she knew the significance behind that choice - Kiche's deity was no longer Hocus' own, so while he stood there all standoffish and uncertain, he had said exactly what was needed. Trisden stared at him for several long seconds, letting him stew, betraying not whether his decision had offended or pleased - until her mouth split into a toothy grin, her tail beginning its lazy wag from side to side. She was not nearly so guarded as he, and was not ashamed to show her pleasure. "Is that the best you've got for me, after three whole years?" she joked, and then moved confidently forward, finding there to be entirely too much space between herself and her sibling. Not oblivious to his discomfort, but more that she didn't give a shit about it, Trisden made to embrace him, rubbing her head against his cheek before laying it over his shoulder, enjoying the waves of nostalgia which rushed over her as his musk filled her head, a scent she had never forgotten but had always thought she'd never experience again.

"God bless you, you dumbass," she whispered, smirking into his white fur, because matters such as whose God was whose didn't seem quite as important as it had all those years ago.

(This post was last modified: Apr 11, 2016, 11:43 AM by Trisden.)

@Hocus

Her dirty paws and furry coat

It was in sleep she was dreaming of a her daughter calling her to find eyes opening and it not to be only of her dreams. Trisden. Yes, there was no mistaking her voice. The strength and certainty. Long tail began to sweep the ground. Slowly, but surely she began to rise, her joints straightening with faint clicks. Joy was her ultimate feeling, but as she meandered to answer she couldn't help wonder if something was wrong at the Reach. With a sigh, she pushed the idea aside. For now Trisden was in the Hollow and that was what mattered the most.

It took a moment to wake her limbs, but the further she went the easier it was to coax them into a light jog. She wasn't about to miss this. But, it still took her a bit of time to navigate where in the forest she was. Near the borders, but more east than west she was still deciphering when Hocus' trail helped her clarify the right way. Pleased he wasn't avoiding his sister, she followed in his steps.

Ears missed the words exchanged from a distance she saw the pair in an embrace, and warmly smiled. It was a nice sight to see after so much time, and after a bit of hell endured. Quickly her throat began to tighten, but she continued to cut the distance. Ready to greet them both, a gentle whine tugged from her throat, not wanting to break them apart, but wanting to be be there all the same. They were far from the small cubs she had raised here, but a part of her would always remember them that way. "Look at you two," she murmured, tail widely beating behind her. She rushed to press her nose to Hocus' cheek, and then Trisden's. "It's been too long," she admitted, mismatched eyes looking from one to the other.

@Trisden wow he is emotionally stunted.

He became accutely aware of the stillness of every muscle group and tendon in his body as he awaited her reaction. But she just stood there, looking at him, and her expression was untraceable. For a moment he felt a flash of frustration wondering if she could truly feel nothing for him, or her God. He surprised himself: Hocus had not expected himself to be anxious for her reaction, to care so much. But here he was sweating buckets and hoping that not all was lost. His  beef had never been with her, not really. Oh, he was angry that she had sheltered and excused Kiche's behavior, but that sin was small in comparison to the center of the argument himself.

And when she smiled he thought he caught a glimpse of the Lord, and finally his shoulders came down. He remembered now her barbed words, her inclination to infect every statement with her attitude. Still a little baffled he moved his mouth wordlessly, noting how quickly she was approaching him. To do what? The hug was entirely unexpected. He stood motionless once more, his own muzzle managing to move just a centimeter to return the gesture in his mechanical style.

"Sister," he said, more evenly than he felt. This was all still very confusing. Even after all these years she could still prickle his procupine.

Another nose joined in with the touching, and his eyes shifted to see the white coat of his mother. Oh, it had been a long time. And he was not sure if that was good or bad. "Mother," he addressed her in a similar manner to Trisden, almost comical in the way he could not seem to communicat with any of them. 

"What are you doing here?" It was always business with him.

(This post was last modified: May 10, 2016, 03:13 AM by Hocus.)

@Jaysyek <3

To be met with any kind of enthusiasm or warmth would have been unexpected. In a twisted way, that Hocus' reaction was only halting and stiff was only reassuring. He was the same, with all the good and bad that implied, but he was the same. Despite the years, she wasn't embracing a stranger but the wolf she'd always known, the wolf she'd loved and hated and laughed and fought with, had ideological differences with and yet with whom she shared more fundamentals than almost any other wolf, Kiche included.

So, when all he had to say by greeting was 'sister', Trisden was okay with it. She just laughed at him again through his thick white fur.

Besides, when it came to warm welcomes, there would be no lack of it once their mother appeared. The moment Trisden realised it, her heart leapt into her mouth, and her head twisted from laying upon Hocus' shoulders towards Jaysyek, bringing her cheek alongside that other face of white fur she knew so very well. The significance of it caught in her throat, for she was here to grieve one parent, and it made her all the more keenly aware of the value of her remaining one. How she wished she could convince her mother to come back with her, but with all that was happening, Trisden doubted it.

She smiled into her mother's fur at the comment, agreeing with it, and couldn't help but laugh again at Hocus' blunt question. This was getting to be rather sickly sweet, not at all in her usual comfort zone, so his stiff manner was actually helpful. "To say goodbye to dad," she said simply, pulling back enough so she could look from one loved white face to the other, and then a smirk touched her own; "while I still have my freedom." She twitched her head back in a gesture which indicated her torso, and wondered if either of them had noticed the (not-so-)secret hidden in her scent, despite not yet visibly showing her pregnancy.