Lost Lake Floriography

East of the new packs borders and then south. It had been too easy, just as mother said it would be. They were a trusting lot, these strange wolves with their lack of custom and culture. Had he been less schooled in maintaining such a cool facade he might have smirked or even outright scoffed at the woman that welcomed them into her home, her belly swelling with life to come. Bold, coming out to the borders on her own in such a state, and almost negligent of her mate to allow her to do so.

But their time would come.

His flank bumped companionably against his sisters side, never straying more than a step or two from her side, in places where the overgrown mountain path didn’t allow them to walk side by side. Nightshade crept in from either side, the fragrant berries deceivingly tempting in their innocence covering any scent the pair might have left in their wake, and as they rounded a corner, the belladonna yielded the place they had been seeking.

Tumbles of stones that might have once been a frequented densite were met with a dismissive glance as the boy lowered his head, his tail waving about with the familiarity of his mothers stale scent. She had been here, just as she said she would, but something of importance must have come up as she hadn’t been here for some days. He was bold enough to poke his head inside the den she had claimed as her own, withdrawing with a sneeze.

Yellow eyes drifted to @Asphodel, fearing the hurt he might see in her eyes. Preemptively he moved closer, passing his rough tongue over her brow as if his kisses alone could smooth away her worries. “She’s been here. Let’s see if we can find a message.” It would be just like their mother to leave a small pile of plants containing some sort of hidden message. They would just have to track it down. “Where do you suppose would be best protected from the wind?”

(This post was last modified: May 05, 2015, 04:37 AM by Hemlock.)

It was with utter distaste that she slipped back into the pathetic character she opted to play. Head down, ears back, she was constantly aware of her posture. It was sickly, the way she had to stammer around, feigning respect, and submission to those who should have been below her. Regardless of how unsavory it was though, they had to make a show of it. Thus, Hemlock took the lead in their departure, with Asphodel trailing close behind. It wasn't her usual spot beside him, but it would have to do. Travelling shoulder to shoulder might insinuate that she saw them as equals, which took away from the timid persona she was trying to maintain; a prospect she wasn't ready to give up just yet. 

No one would suspect the mousy creature that needed her brother to shield away the dangers which were undoubtedly lurking around every corner. It was the perfect ruse, really. Made even easier by the trusting nature of their pack mates. Still, she was ready for their return with an excuse on her tongue. The pair was simply out gathering herbs, contributing a valuable service to their alphas. Of course, they would have to pick something up on their way back from seeing Naira, but that would be easy. After all, her brother hadn't lied about their abilities.

Once she was satisfied that they hadn't been followed - not that she had been too concerned - the tawny youth resumed her place at Hemlock's side. Elated not only by her regained freedom, but by the promise of seeing their mother, the girl picked up her pace, knowing her brother would be able to keep up. 

The yearling's tail began to sway, as the misleading fragrance of nightshade entered the air. They were close, one more turn. Rounding the bend, Asphodel found that it wasn't the ruins of the old den-site, or the symbolic belladonna that demanded her attention, but the brief and stale perfume of Naira. 

Hemlock was there before the disappointment even touched her features, before she felt her stomach drop, before she could even process the fact that her mother was nowhere to be found. His warm tongue already planting kisses upon her brow, comforting the yearling in a way that only he could. Nodding, she forced the feeling away. The matriarch must have had a good reason. 

Scanning their surroundings, her golden eyes found the only obvious thing. "The den. It's out of the wind, and it looks to be in a state of disrepair. She would have known that a passerby wouldn't stay in there for fear of it collapsing." Without a pack to keep up with the usual maintenance, it certainly looked unstable.

 

He listened to his sisters suggestion with a smile. Of course she was right and he made his way towards the questionable structure. He hadn’t quite reached the den when a flash of blue caught his eye at the base of a boulder to the east. A brow drew down as he wandered over to nose at the small pile. There wasn’t necessarily anything out of place about the butterfly, but the flowers scattered around it, wilting. There was a message here for those that could read it and he smiled. Subtle mother.

 

A tilt of his chin should be enough to bring Asphodel to his side where he would press his flank against hers and consider the message. A butterfly with one wing could only be Nova, the meaning behind her name alluding to as much, but the flowers… haste, birth, mourning absence. She missed them. That did make him smile. His sigh couldn’t be contained. It would mean the youths would have to bide their time a little longer among the wolves of the lake pack.

 

If there was a message to the east, perhaps there were more scattered about the small clearing that surrounded the den? He turned his eyes towards the North and began to groom the fur around his sisters neck, only ceasing to whisper her a promise. Soon.