Wild Cherry Orchard Insert witty thread title here.

@Chulyin

Ashton was in the orchard once more, it was like his sanctuary, the place where he had never seen another wolf. Where he could be alone and remember Tacoma, and try to remember his father. The memories of Koda faded to be replaced by stronger memories of mother and Hollow being around all the time. That didn't mean he would rather have Hollow as a father, but he would never look at Koda the same. He had left and Tacoma died, as far as Ashton was concerned his father was partially to blame for it. The young wolf kicked at the snow covered earth revealing the cherry covered ground beneath it. The thin layer of white appeared to bleed, as a wolf with white fur would.

The rotted fruit beneath the snow seemed to seed it's juices into the crisp snow, the scent of sickly sweet rotted fruit filled the air. It made it heavy and dead, and almost sleepy scent. Ashton liked it, he always did, the way the orchard was so dead and silent. Then he would hurt the snow and make it bleed like he did, the air would fill with perfume and Ashton would make more cuts around the bases of all the trees. He enjoyed harming something and watching it hurt like he did all the time. His wounds though invisible, always stung.

Still the Reinier would act as though it was his territory. Ashton was king here, and Tacoma was alive, Koda was home, the three Reinier siblings led Secret Woodlands and rules be dammed. It was happy, he would hunt, he would play alone. Practice fighting and spar with nothing, pretending it was Tacoma, Hollow, or Koda, sometimes even Mirren. But now he sat in silence, the base of every cherry tree for 30 feet had red around it's base and a small pup with mossy green eyes stared coldly at the red. He breathed deep the fruits of his labor.

(This post was last modified: Dec 29, 2013, 06:23 PM by Ashton.)

The guardian's days had become monotonous once more. It was not something he minded though, as it was far better than the stress that had come from being atop the mountain. There was always the issue of food still lingering, however, and so he always dedicated part of his day to trying to find something to bring back. After marking the borders on the far west side of the territory, Chulyin struck out, stretching his legs as he ran through the snow. His muscles weren't so sore anymore, his paws not so delicate. And even if his muscles still ached, he would hardly get anywhere just being kind to them. He moved in a relatively straight line, letting his nose do most of the work as he was not necessarily being silent as he plodded along. The land was not prey-rich now, and he thought it very unlikely that he would come across any herds. If there was something about, he would smell it.

He'd gone quite a few miles when he found himself with the open sky above him, and the woods behind him. There were clusters of trees ahead, bare as usual though there was a sickly sweet scent in the air, mingled with that of wolf, a pack he was unfamiliar with. Pressing forward, the man soon came to find a pup moving around the trees, causing quite a ghastly scene. Rotten cherry juice stained the pristine snow and if his sight was not failing him, the trees seemed a bit damaged as well, the sight backed up by faint traces of bark upon the ground as well. Dark brows came together as he watched this unfold, though the man said nothing. <b style="color:#a51919">

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Ashton kept his face trained on his handiwork until eventually the scent of Chulyin rose to his nostrils, just barely discernible through the thick perfume of rotted cherry. Slowly Ashton's seemingly bloodstained paws shifted and the young wolf stood and turned to face Chulyin. His stance was neutral, as much as he wished to be alone. The boy knew that in a fight he would be helpless against a wolf Chulyin's size. So he approached the stranger in spite of the fact, it was always easy for Ashton to do that, he truly carried the alpha trait. He strode forward with confidence and a level gaze, almost the spitting image of his uncle Ash at this moment, seeming as though he were a much older wolf he reached a spot a few feet away from Chulyin and lowered himself to his haunches.

Even through the thick perfume of cherry, Ashton could scent many wolves on the stranger's fur, so he knew at least this other male belonged to back, and a new one by the scent... or an old one, trouble was, Ashton couldn't tell. The scent was weird, like the scent of wolves was strong, but the territorial scents that should have been there were faint and mixed. Ashton of course knew nothing of Nomads Pass' flight from the mountain or of the fact that it was impassible. It mattered little to him however, merely knowledge that there was another pack in the area was useful. "I'm Ashton Reinier, who are you?" He had been told if he ever met others on his travels not to say too much, and so he wouldn't.

Chulyin watched the child with faint amusement as he was sauntered up to. He could not quite pinpoint the age of the boy, probably not too much younger or older than Karpos or his nieces, but certainly under a year. The dark man towered over the child most unintentionally, but it seemed that the older man's sheer size did little to deter the boy from coming nearer. He supposed children weren't truly children anymore. He couldn't soon forget the conversation he'd had with Karpos who had been through quite a lot in his short life. It was unfortunate, to say the least. The guardian rolled his shoulders as the boy finally stopped, sitting before him. What a foolish boy. It seemed the most of the pups he'd met on his journeys were less than intelligent, sauntering up to strangers as though they were eight feet tall. There was nothing wrong with a bit of confidence, but...Well, it helped to have at least a little bite to back up your bark.

The man did not sit, instead decanted his head to look the boy in the face. His ears pressed forward, nostrils flaring as he continued to at least try and be aware of the task at hand. <b style="color:#a51919">"A bit forward." Chulyin said, stiffly, most of the amusement from a moment ago dissipated. <b style="color:#a51919">"I am Chulyin." He answered, blinking a single time in some display of finality. He had a last name, but it meant little to him and would give this child no indication of his pack or family. <b style="color:#a51919">

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*Ashton's a cocky little shit isn't he?*


Ahston was still undeterred, although the wolf was way bigger than he had thought... way bigger. "Chulyin? That's a weird name." Ashton asked the question very pointedly, so far he didn't feel endangered. Truthfully, the boy could care less if he was torn apart right now. He had been making the trees hurt like him, maybe if another wolf made him really hurt like he hurt the trees everything would go away. So he met the gaze evenly looking just far enough to Chulyin's left not to be challenging. But Ashton was still the child of an alpha and way too confident in his ability to get the pack here quickly. So if he got mad, maybe Ashton would just call for the pack, yeah that's it, there was no danger here, everything would be totally fine.

"I guess it's not too bad though... I heard weirder before, anyways where are you from?" Ashton cocked his head to one side in a questioning manner. Hoping to find some information from this wolf, if he wouldn't cooperate easy, then Ashton would do what mother always did when he wouldn't tell her something. Act totally different, it always seemed to work on him so he could at least give it a shot for once on another wolf. Who knew, maybe it would work and he could go home with valuable information of a new pack somewhere nearby so that Hollow and Nina could go and make another ally. Ashton would be praised for his cunning he expected, yeah that's what he should do, get information to take home. Even if it was only a little.

Maybe if the man had been of some chaotic alignment, he would have messed around with the boy a little. Strike the fear of the afterlife into him. But Chulyin was a stoic sort and doing such a thing would likely never cross his mind. If anything, he would use such a nature to inform the boy of what exactly he was doing wrong to ensure that someone that might've had chaotic intentions wouldn't see any reason to go through with them. More words spilled out of the agouti wolf, and Chulyin's eyes lifted, resisting an eye roll and instead releasing a quiet sigh. It wasn't as though that statement truly warranted an answer, so the man would not give him one. His follow up was not much better than what he'd said initially, and Chulyin's gaze receded back to the boy's face. Meeting his green eyes, Chulyin was moderately aware that the child was not looking at him straight on. It soothed the man a bit, a tiny bit, to know that the boy had some sense in his noggin, if only just some.

<b style="color:#a51919">"East of here." The man answered, assured that the rules of the Keep had not changed just because they were no longer the rules of the Pass. And even though the boy was just that, Chulyin found no reason to divulge such information to a child, especially one with such a big mouth. Again, the man blinked, finalizing his words, or so he thought. <b style="color:#a51919">

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Chulyin was a quiet one, but then so was Ashton when he was at home, mostly because of his reluctance to let anyone know what he was thinking. But also because nothing he ever thought anymore a=was good, when he was, home, just because everywhere he looked he saw Tacoma, heard his yip's and little howls. Danica always moped around thinking of him, and Ashton hated that, he hated seeing her always be sad about everything. It was infuriating. Stupid Danica, if she could just let it go then maybe everything could finally be okay. Deep down he knew that not to be true. It would never be okay and he would always miss his brother dearly, for as long as he himself drew breath.

It didn't seem like Chulyin wanted to divulge much information, and by the way he spoke Ashton deduced that he could only be lying or speaking the truth. His which, knowing most wolves, it was probably a lie. The pup decided he would go and look some day and find out just how truthful the male was being. Either way it was just enough information to tell mother and Hollow. Ashton thought to himself if he could get out of this meeting without divulging the location of Secret Woodlands he would. So he said nothing to Chulyin of his own pack. The male would have to ask for that. In an attempt to break the older male's concentration Ashton spoke once more, "So what are you doing all the way out here?"

Chulyin didn't bother asking about the child's whereabouts, for it didn't matter much to him. So long as he actually had a home, which was evident from the scent upon him, that was all that mattered to the man. But knowing the location of such a home wouldn't benefit the man, nor would it benefit his pack. Perhaps if the boy's mother or father decided to appear, then it could provide him with some positive outcome, but he wasn't sure how likely that was. They both seemed like quiet individuals, although Ashton appeared to have a much more "in your face" attitude about him, while Chulyin was quite content to let the boy entertain himself with whatever air of superiority he seemed to think he had.

<b style="color:#a51919">"Hunting." Chulyin responded flatly, ears turning back as though he could only wait to hear the boy make some lucrative comment about how he didn't seem to be hunting much of anything. It seemed like a rather childlike thing to say, although Chulyin himself had thought it up. <b style="color:#a51919">"Trying to hunt." Somewhat correcting himself, the darker man hoped to stop any snide comments in their tracks. <b style="color:#a51919">"It looks as though you were making a mess." Lifting his gaze over Ashton, he let it sweep across the Orchard at the rather macabre scene before him. He wondered if it was mere child's play or something a bit deeper. Karpos had his own demons, perhaps this boy did too. But if he did, they certainly weren't any of Chulyin's business. <b style="color:#a51919">

(This post was last modified: Dec 29, 2013, 08:42 PM by Chulyin.)

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At first it was harmless, and when Chulyin replied that he was hunting, it was true Ashton felt a strong retort build up in his throat, only to die out as Chulyin corrected. Ashton was about to offer him some kind of bargain so to speak, where they could both hunt, a mutually beneficial thing, as Ashton was a fair hunter as young as he was he still held a fair bit of stealth. However Chulyin said something that stopped the boy dead in his tracks entirely. The air of confidence evaporated from him instantaneously as he glanced a few times at his stained paws. Taking in the color and how some had seeped into the snow around them creating a sort of bloody paw print. Even though Ashton was completely unhurt.

"Making a mess" would be a relative term, relative to the area yes, it was merely a mess, to him? It was something else entirely, manifestation of pain and suffering, taking out ones anger on the surrounding earth. It bled in silence the same way he did, could it scream, it would scream with it. But it was silent, so he would be. Instead a brief shake of his head brought it back up to face Chulyin. "I like the scent, and the color, that's all. I didn't intend on ruining your hunt." The words were more formal and respectful, an educated wolf would see that there was more to it. Ashtons words made it clear a stranger would not be told why he was really doing what he was doing.

Though his eyes admired the trees, as Ashton dropped his own, Chulyin's followed. The boy had done quite a number on his paws as well, thanks to all those cherries and had made a nice little trail from the clusters of trees to where he was now. When the boy shook his head, explaining the occurrence, Chulyin had the faintest of feelings he was lying. But the affairs of other packs and their children mattered little to the man. Perhaps if the boy had gone on, been honest, Chulyin might have had something to offer, some wise tidbit, but not much more. He wasn't a therapist, not one to coddle, per say. He didn't enjoying seeing others in pain, but usually found himself feeling useless in their presence, only able to make their own plight worse.

Chulyin shook his head, <b style="color:#a51919">"Nothing's been ruined." He answered, reassuring the boy without necessarily stating that he'd had zero luck finding any sign of edible life. Looking beyond the trees, the man's shoulders shifted again, <b style="color:#a51919">"Perhaps I ought to leave you to your mess, then." He emphasized, then retreated a step to put some space between them. If the boy had anything further to say, then it was probably the right time to say it. Chulyin could not dawdle, speaking to troubled children only meant that any food was likely to get further away and he could not put much more distance between himself and home. His nose carefully tested the air on the off chance there were any creatures about taking advantage of the rotting fruit beneath the snow. <b style="color:#a51919">

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