Cedarwood Forest rivers and roads

When he had kissed his daughter's cheek and bid her safe travels, he had not intended for this. Ever since arriving in Relic Lore he had not been able to sleep. He had been sick more than once, and it showed. His fur was no longer the regal blanket of sparkling northern snow. It was dull, it was attached to his bones. From his eyes oozed something that stained the patches below his eyes. For him this was a sign: the All-Father did not want him here. This was a condemned place, a place of bad memories and sickness and he was not welcomed here. Repeatedly he reminded himself that this was only temporary. He would collect his daughter and they would return to the Sanctuary and he would never let her leave ever again.

Honestly, he was furious. No, he had not expressly forbade travel to any particular places, mostly because he figured if he could avoid any mention of Relic Lore that no one would be tempted to travel there. But a cautionary tale — ten thousand cautionary tales would have served a much better purpose, and it was clear now that he had made a grave mistake. This excused nothing, however. Piety had not returned from sabbatical when she should have, she had come here and stayed here. Such an act would require insurmountable acts of penance — and even then...


Mere coincidence had interwoven their trails. Hocus had chosen to come to this place as a spring board for the eventual search, for this was the place that he knew. This, or some where nearby, had been his childhood home. Things felt vaguely familiar to him, but years and a tremendous force of will had succeeded in dampening a great many of the memories of this place, so that when his paws slipped lightly through the pine needles he did not see the faces of Trisden or Theo or Prosper. Only the vague tug of sadness remained, which he took as the tax God levied on him for coming back.

He nearly vomited when he realized her scent interwoven among others old and unfamiliar. He did not know what he had done to deserve such a punishment. It was not often that he questioned his God's choices, but he was very angry that his daughter had been turned into some sacrificial lamb. He steeled himself, wondering vaguely what half of his disowned family was doing still occupying these woods. Borden had been in Renegade's Reach two years ago. They all had. He was not prepared for a family reunion, but it appeared that this was the price for his daughter.

"Into the lion's den," he muttered darkly, raising his muzzle to offer up his voice to God and the deceived wolves who plagued this forest. 

In his dream, a call had sounded out from the heavens, summoning him to do as any canonized saint had done before him. To be good, virtuous, and God-fearing. When the howl came again a second time, however, it was louder, and it announced the arrival of someone nearby. Somewhere in-between sleeping and waking, Rook gave a start, his stocky limbs flinching and kicking away the pine needles within reach. He had fallen asleep nestled up against Borden's side, but to his surprise, the old Lyall remained asleep, practically dead to the world. Just to be sure, he pressed a bear-like ear to his father's chest and took comfort from hearing that slow-paced heartbeat, before darting away to check the borders and the lands just past the familiar landmarks.

He shouldn't have been startled, but seeing a similarly-sized man through the trees had him wide-eyed and rather concerned. "Ryvet?" he whispered to himself rather than outright calling to his brother. A wince found its way onto his masked face. Something wasn't... right. There was something in the way he stood, how he moved, how he looked...

The young Leader blinked as he came to regard the stranger, being all too wary for his own good as he straightened out his posture into one that told the other brute that he held claim to the lands at his back. His hackles rose but he did not have a reason to growl or snap. Instead, his tone was straightforward and stern, demanding nothing but succinct answers, "Could I help you?"

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

@Rook

The two hardly knew what to make of each other.

Hocus had, to some extent, taken for granted that Borden would be the one to greet him at the borders. The Borden that Hocus remembered was a suspicious, wary man who was prone to walk the territory at all hours.  This had only deepened in his father when Hocus had discovered the tales of the rabid wolves from the lips of his family members during his ever-so brief stay in Renegade's Reach. Hocus was surprised to catch traces of his father's scent here. He was also quite surprised that he had not yet run into some rabid creature that still plagued the land.

At any rate, it was not his father that appeared from between two cedars. At first glance it certainly appeared to be Borden. The colors and the mask was there. But as the creature came closer he picked out some things here and there: richer browns, a blue eye, youth. This was not Borden at all. He took a deep breath. It even smelled like Borden.

It spoke a name, a name apparently they both shared.
 
Oh joy, he scoffed inwardly. He knew all too well what this meant. Under different circumstances he might have mused about the strangeness at finding this boy all grown up. Hocus had been there for his birth, right outside the den as his mother attempted to swallow her cries of pain. He had paced. His own wife had been with her, helping her in the hopes that when she went into labor she would know what to do. A wry smile played on his face as he watched the confusion play out across the boy's face. He realized this situation really was quite amusing. And his youngest brother did not share in the blame the same way the rest of the family did. Maybe.

With some effort he tucked his tail up against his flank. But this was all the genuflecting he could manage. A boy holding himself like the way their father would have, like a leader? He was dubious. This boy likely owned nothing and was just being over-emphatic. "Actually, Rook, I'm Hocus." He wondered if their parents had spoken about them.

"I'm looking for my daughter," he cast his eyes about as if she might appear at any moment, "By the smell of it, she appears to be here. Have you seen Piety?" His tone was equally brusque. He did not yet want to let on about anything else.

The troubled call summoned the medic, not far from pack borders on this day. Today was simply a day for scouting and strengthening pack lines – with the changing of the seasons, the foliage was also starting to change. It was time to seek out late fall blooms to stash away before the coming frosts, but they’d not yet appear, not until the temperatures cooled just a bit further as the sun fell.

With a steady jog, the sturdy wolf approached the sight of the howl, ears rolling back when an unknown white wraith appeared in his line of vision across from the lord of land and heart. Veho’s hackles began to rise without a conscious decision, his plumed tail sweeping up above his back in a support of his alpha’s display. Whomever this stranger was, he was not doing a fine job at showing respect for the king of Grizzly Hollow. The peaceful medic found his patience slipping by fractions as he came to a halt at Rook’s side, muzzle curled in a subtle warning.

“Watch your tone,” the Macieo scolded gently, a hard gaze settling across the white wolf. “Introduce yourself. You are a guest at the borders of Grizzly Hollow.” It would befit you to act like it, Veho did not add, feeling the embers of uncertainty spark into a flame of protectiveness. He had not felt this way in years, not since he’d lost his sisters to sickness and a fierce bout of independence. One glance at his partner and he strengthened his posture, pale eyes drifting back to the older male. “Why do you seek Piety?”

If she was here, it was certainly no business of his – the woman had asked she no longer be @Piety at all, and Veho had no intention of betraying the promise he’d made to the battered dove.

The other man countered Rook with a stare that was just as chiding as his own. It reminded him of his mother somehow; it might have just been the colorlessness of the man's fur with the way his muzzle and eyes were set on his face. He might have just been seeing things, but his assumptions were proven correct when the stranger spoke, introducing himself. This was no rogue. He had known his name and had revealed himself to be his older brother, the one he had only known through course of conversation and the stories of Grizzly Hollow during its first Summer within Relic Lore.

As much as he wanted to step back and come forward all at once, Rook stood his ground. His lips were drawn into a hard black line across his maw. He couldn't be sure if he had ever met Hocus' daughter, his niece, and it was somehow brash of him to directly make the observation that she had recently been around his part of the woods. He sniffed, his brows furrowing into a solemn expression, but before he could come back with some sort of defensive quip, there was a flurry of gray fur at his side. Veho, who had taken up the position, with a wrinkled muzzle and all the right words and a forthright question.

The Leader lifted a forearm and angled it in such a way as to block the medic from coming forward any further. His head came down slightly and his ears came forward. "It's all right, Merlin," he tried to assure his partner in a steady, even tone as he momentarily angled his head to whisper a few hushing sounds into the base of his ashen ear. It might have been a bit too affectionate for such a simple gesture, but Rook wanted to make it clear to his older brother that the two of them were something to be reckoned with if given the chance. "Apparently--" the word came with an acidic, skeptic note. "--this is my brother." There was a pause between his words as Rook scanned the older wolf, seemingly attempting to pick out both Borden and Jaysyek from his similarly-sized physique. "Hocus."

"She is here," he confirmed. "But, she is no longer called, @Piety. For that, we cannot let you see her. Not without good reason."

(This post was last modified: Sep 17, 2015, 09:01 PM by Rook.)

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

The two long-lost brothers stood their considering each other. Hocus could understand the skepticism: he had "met" Rook, but Rook has never met him. But as the silent began to stretch thin he began to wonder if perhaps no one had mentioned him at all to this boy. Hocus had not expected a brilliant and tearful family reunion, but he also had not expected to encounter such obstacles. Then again, he assumed Borden or his mother would have been the one at the borders. Now there was all this red tape to cut through, and the thought exhausted him. Forgive me, Pangur.

And because God was full of tests, he laid another hurdle in front of the man in the form of a complete stranger. But it was clear that he was only a stranger to him and not to his younger brother. Hocus was a dutiful child of God, and he would not balk from a challenge. His face remained unchanged. He assumed all the defensive pomp and circumstance was out of concern for a pack mate. It would have been admirable were it not so heartily misplaced. Certainly it was a little more barbaric than he was used to. The Sanctuary was much more cultured than this. His eyebrows rose. He considered the idea of being a guest in the lands of his own birth to be a strange one, and yet at every turn in this cursed land he had been met with clear indicators of the same fact. His ears shifted backwards. 

The silver boy questioned his reasons for wanting to see Piety and his green eyes widened. What had changed about this world where a father should not have any right to see his daughter? Hocus' posture was not wholly submissive, but the bulky white male had not a threatening bone in his body. Sure, time and the demons of Relic Lore had darkened and dulled his coat a little and taken away a bit of the weight, but he was still a refined man. Hocus wondered if they expected him to defer completely to a brother two years his junior. He blinked rapidly. Perhaps he was missing something.

But the world was full of sketpics. Hocus, too, had been a skeptic once. He smiled thinly. Some people just wouldn't believe without solid proof before their eyes. " I can lead you to the very den in which I was born." It might not be an easy task, but it was certainly something only the real Hocus would know. 

"Why... why ever not?" Genuine concern flushed across his face to hear that she no longer wanted to be called Piety. And his mind leaped to the worst. His legs began to tremble underneath him. "What has happened to her—  Is she hurt?" His breaths did not seem to bring in any air. It was as if there was a leak. "Sorry I just need... to sit down." He knew this place was bad. It was evil. The devil's mountain shadow fell hard across these lands and it was simply unsafe for a girl as pure, as pious as his beautiful daughter. Had she fallen?

"You must know that ... Piety is a very gentle soul," he managed to get out after a time, "She is very much like her grandmother. Very adventurous too. She wanted... wanted to see the world..." he trailed off slightly as his mind began to play back moments from that day: the soft rustling of the grass as it swallowed her up, how she shone so brightly she seemed imbued with God himself. "I let my beautiful daughter go a year ago. She said she would come home... She... she came here. Here of all places."

"Please let me see her, brother" He hung his entire weight on Rook's gaze, expecting no one to be so cruel as to hold a father back from his own daughter. Daughters were special things. "Something must have happened to her."

A lynx has left behind the remains of a deer. +5 Health

The affection did little to stay the growl in Veho’s throat, tipping his head only to brush against the alpha’s muzzle before turning his icy glare back to the stranger.  Such a soft, moonlit gaze had turned hard, cold, eerie as an early morning fog cloaking a specter as he stared down the self-proclaimed Lyall.  He supposed the green eyes could be likened to the patriarch, though the white coat spoke to not to Borden.  Ears folded backwards as his chest rumbled again, swinging his head though he traveled no further.  He’d not openly disobey his partner.

Personally, he would not have confirmed Piety’s presence or absence, though he supposed it was hard to hide the female’s scent from the man that claimed to raise her.  He clearly tracked her, true sire or not – perhaps Rook’s reply was the most logical response.  Silvery brows rose and the man arched his neck, tail swishing furiously over his back as the flash of white knives was offered in a thinly veiled warning.

“She is a very gentle soul,” Veho acknowledged, bowing his head.  “She came here for sanctuary, and I have sword to honor her request.  She is not yours.  The woman is her own wolf, and if she choses not to interact with the world outside the Hollow, that is her choice to make,” the medic rumbled, the defensive posture not leaving him.  Hocus refused to show subservience, and Veho would not be intimidated by the older wolf.  “She is safe here.  Be at peace.”

Leave your hubris elsewhere.

(This post was last modified: Sep 17, 2015, 10:20 PM by Veho.)

The young Leader remained quiet, all ears while Hocus made his plea and Veho somewhat concurred with him to some point. The Macieo was right though, in the fact that Piety was old enough to be her own identity and not just a simple daughter (just like how Rook was more than his father's keeper), and Rook nodded. Perhaps if the duo had known just what kind of wretchedness had been thrust upon her, they would have a much more lenient answer.

"I'm sorry," was all he could really say. "She only told me that she had lost everything. We don't know much else. She's been avoiding us all, but she is safe. I can assure you."

His banner of a tail lowered slightly as a fleeting thought crossed his mind. Given Veho's bristled stance, though, he had to consider it. Twice. At the end of it all though, he was the one who truly held the upper hand and family - estranged, disowned, newly acquainted or otherwise - was family. Cor ad cor. His own growl rumbled in response to the medic's prolonged expression of distaste and for a moment he anticipated his subordinate's tolerance. Whether or not those clenched teeth would be concealed or those hackled would smooth out, Rook didn't mind, but he hoped that Veho would allow him space to converse with the sibling he so wanted to acquaint himself with.

"You are welcome to stay," he offered. "But I can't promise that she might feel the same way or that you might find your worries alleviated. When she came to us, she was already broken. We're not sure what has happened to her or why; for all we know, that certain something or someone could still be out there. According to Dad, what he's mentioned in bits and pieces, she's a little better than before and we'd like to keep her that way." It was a lot of cards to lay out on the table at one time but, to Rook, it seemed in this case it was better to be upfront. He cast a wary eye to his significant other, "But, first, Merlin and I need to know you won't make her situation any worse. It's enough that Dad is sick and Mom is absent..."

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and his mouth fell wide open as he listened to them.

The stranger, he was the most aggressive. It was the hardest to listen to this silver man, who seemed to think that because Piety had reached adulthood that her father had no right to so much as ask about her or to speak her name. His breathing deepened as he prayed for God to supress his fury. He willed God to be just, to find the right punishment for the audacity and naivete of the silver stranger's unkind words. This man did not have a daughter or any children, Hocus could sense this from his words. A father did not let go of his children, a father did not give up on his children.  But Hocus was not one to forgive such ignorant transgressions. If clemency was to be granted, it was God's doing.

And Hocus' God was not a forgiving god.

Rook, at least, apologized. Hocus' heart-ache only deepened with the emphasis of everything. He wondered at how he was supposed to trust these men that his daughter was safe if they would not even offer the same token of trust to him. Breathe, he urged himself. He had to keep breathing. He watched his brother carefully as the boy was, it appeared, carried away by some sort of thought. Breathe. 

The silence felt like a life time, and Hocus could only fill it with prayer.

It was a great surprise to be offered a seat at the Grizzly Hollow table. He hardly cared about the other things that were said, for if they were going to let him past these cedar gates then surely the rest would be easy. Piety would not shy from her own father, since all their posturing was completely unfounded.

But there was a caveat.

Finally, he allowed his eyes to narrow. "Yes, I would like to stay. But you do me an unkindness, the two of you, to assume that I would have anything less than the best intentions for my daughter. Father and mother know me to be incapable of causing harm." Out of respect for tradition, he found himself easing towards Rook to lick him under the chin. He paused here, considering the brief little line Rook had bandied about sickness. And their mother's absence. "Is that why you're here instead? What's wrong with him?" The father he had known two years ago had been in his prime. It seemed strange to even think of Borden as anything other than a monolith of formidable authority. His voice did not carry the same kind of concern it had for Piety. It was curious, but it lacked a lot of heart. Borden had never been Hocus' favorite person. Rook did not know their history. But considering all the suspicion geared at him, he braced himself for a torrent of more unkindness. "Are we looking for Mother?" The concern reappeared for Jaysyek, who had not transgressed the same way father had. 

"I think you should take me to Father immediately. Please."

This would sort some things out.