Secret Falls BROKEN-MINDED

That she had been gone from this place truly did not occur to her. Nightingale scarcely remembered a time when she had been here at all. No, scarce was not the word. As she entered this world, it was new to her, every single thing about it. No scents fused together the broken pieces of her mind; no sights tickled even the vaguest feeling of I have been here before. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had only just entered this place? Even if she was in her correct mind, she of this body had never been here before, regardless of right or wrong mindedness.

Nightingale was perceptive of things around her. She did not want to intrude or trespass on any lands. The only thing that was Kite about her were her faculties. Wolf instinct kept to her. Otherwise, she was a fraction of who she once was. Not nearly so joyous and boisterous. It was as though her soul knew something was missing. But the Caldera had told her otherwise, and they gave her no reason to not believe them. They knew her favorite snack was hare, they knew she was a scout, and they all told her they liked her.

She did not need much convincing. Her head hurt too badly. And they had a medic.

Regardless, she had dispersed from them. Crow had told her he would join her around here when he could; so had Magpie, a wolf she had grown particularly close with. That was wrong, wasn't it? Magpie had told her that they had always been close friends. Muscle memory, Magpie had laughed, You know that you liked me even then!

Nightingale supposed she missed Magpie, and the companionship that came with pack... but her need to wander further than ever struck her fierce one evening, and she went with it before any could protest. And now she ended up here, heading toward the Falls, enjoying the cool autumn breeze passing through the trees.

@Kite <3!
hope you don't mind that I used this to launch her current plot

There was so much more for her to do now.

The Broken Pines' queen quickly paced along her borders, pale ears swiveling at every infrequent sound while her nose scoured inches over the cold earth. It would be winter soon and this was no time to let any loners -or block-headed pack wolves- assume any laxity in keeping them patrolled and guarded. Iopah stopped at every place that Koda had previously marked and made sure to leave just as poignant of a warning. Her blunt nails scratched deep, digging past the frost and into the aromatic cedar needles to leave her own pungent reminder.

Until @Koda returned, this would be a task that fell squarely onto her shoulders.

With a final snort the pale woman continued on her way, casting a longing glance into the forest beyond. Of course she hadn't wanted him to leave, but in the end he had convinced her; her every worry over-ridden by his assurances. A low whine slipped free at the memory; she'd forgotten how persuasive he could be. A part of Iopah welcomed the extra work, anything that would keep her distracted and not missing him so much.

Distraction came much sooner than she expected. Iopah swiftly whirled around when the other woman's scent entered her nostrils. They might have been familiar, but that familiarity was likely another reason to keep them away from the borders. It didn't matter that this woman had did not have any affiliation with Secret Woodlands; the last Io had known the younger woman had disappeared after Mirren's defeat. "Kite," Iopah greeted coldly. "Why have you come here?" And why did you leave in the first place?

BROKEN TIMBER PINES

She followed the sound of a dull roar.

The tawny wolf moved as if she were in a dream, only mindful of her surroundings if it meant avoiding the path of an aggressor, or predator. Being a lone wolf meant she hadn't the stuff to deal with cougars or bears; the beasts would consider her easy pickings. Nightingale was fleet-footed, but for how long could she run until she was a waste of a wolf, bones and skin with nothing else to her? And those bones would shrink with her, she imagined! Be perfect to wedge out things caught between the teeth. A shudder crawled over her and she peered over a shoulder. The telltale signs of her being a lone-wolf were ever clear; the skin clung to it, with little additional meat to offer a cushion. Nightingale doubted if a predator saw her they would crave her.

So she pressed onward. Where there was water there might be fish. And the songbird had become quite adept at fishing...

Someone spoke, and in the distance there was a wolf. How had she missed that? 'Gale sniffed and realized she was downwind. Ah. Not nearly mindful enough. Her nose swept to the earth, and when she was sure she had not transgressed unforgivably upon pack land—which she did not think she had done, but she had moved in some sort of daze without much conscious thought in the past moments who could be certain?—and when she was sure she had not, she registered the others words.

Again, the tawny one looked over her shoulder, her slender muzzle pointing behind her as she stared... no one else was here. Nightingale turned back to the other, who was looking at her, speaking to her, and she could only cock her head, puzzling over this. I'm not Kite, she corrected, Sorry to disappoint. I'm Nightingale. And... I was following the sound of water. I wanted to fish, Nightingale explained. She was not sure why she explained all that, but it couldn't hurt, could it? Kite, she thought, letting the name drift in her head.

It was a lovely name. 'Gale only wished she could claim it as her own.

Conversationally, since she had just let the other down, she invited, ...Wanna come?

It seemed logical that Kite would not be travelling alone. When Kite turned to look over her shoulder, Iopah quickly followed the line of sight to look as well. She thoroughly expected Mirren to be only steps behind his female companion. The pair of tawny wolves had been together in the thickets and they had left the thickets at the same time, logic said they had left together.

Kite finally returned her attention, but Iopah could not help glancing about for the Tainn male. Their previous interactions together had been brief and had done nothing to foster any sort of trust or affection with the Broken Pines' queen. I'm not Kite, Kite said. A worried gaze ripped from the scenery to stare at the younger woman. What did she mean? What had happened?

Iopah pressed forward, deliberate and careful. Her ears flicked at the explanation without comment - Kite always was an exuberant speaker. She made a broad, slow circle around her, pulling in scents and inspecting the woman's form. This was Kite, from the height of her limbs to the buff hues of her coat, but she was very alone now. There was no Mirren, only a cacophony of unfamiliar scents and all of them were stale. "No," Her eyes searched for Kite's, wanting to understand. "You are Kite."

Something had happened, that much was clear. The eyes were the same, and the mannerisms, but there was something missing - something that could not just be explained back in. Something more fundamental than a simple story. "I can't go very far and I can't fish very well." The words came out of her mouth without thought, being caught up in the wondering at what had happened to Kite. "My daughters will worry if they cannot find me easily." Especially since their father was currently away.

BROKEN TIMBER PINES

The others pressing caused Nightingale's ears to flatten against her crown, defensive against the others pressing. You've got the wrong girl, she said again, her eyes flitting over the others form. There was nothing familiar there that she saw, and her lack of familiarity with the other was obvious enough. The songbird was a little uneasy for a moment; was the other senile? She didn't look that old. If anything, the other looked to be in her prime. I don't know you. I've only just arrived to these lands for the first time. I don't even know where I am, she went on, Although, perhaps you... perhaps you met me at the Caldera, Nightingale spoke aloud, drifting in her thoughts, concentrating... but it yielded nothing, as ever. Still, it didn't make sense. Nightingale was wary to reveal anything to a stranger who could use it against her. The other pack had warned her about others using these situations against wolves. Lucky we found you, they had breathed anxiously, Someone else might have and called you by another name, lied to you about another life!

That they said it somehow chased the fear that they would do that, oddly enough. She had no idea that others were capable of such a terrible act... couldn't think of it... but they had procured the thought.

It didn't matter, did it? Nightingale shook off the thought. No, that can't be it. I'm Nightingale, and I always have been. Her torn ear flicked as she listened to the world around her. She believed the words she said, as they were what she had been told... but saying it, she truly was not sure who she was reassuring here.

As the other went on, Nightingale nodded as though she understood. I wouldn't want that, she responded, I could teach you, but if it's too far and that would happen, I definitely understand. Don't worry about it. It was a might as well, since you're here invite anyway, but she was still disappointed to not have the company. The wolf did enjoy it; it made the times she was alone a bit more tolerable, because she had a dose of socialization not so long ago. But at this point, it had been a while; she was sure the other felt her awkwardness as well as Gale herself could.

@Kite

"No," Iopah said softly, a slight shake to her head. "I've never been to the Caldera." She didn't know what else to say or do. All she'd done so far was create wariness in Kite. "I crossed the mountain last spring and crossed the valley to come here. Before that I lived in the thickets." Just like you did. But that was certain to distress Kite even further, so it was not spoken aloud.

As Kite's insistent came one more time Iopah did not act to correct it, but neither did she nod a head and accept it. This was Kite and she would continue to think of her by that name. But abandoning the argument left a lull and now even she could feel the awkwardness. All they had left was the offer and Iopah stepped forward. "I've always wanted to learn, but... I... don't like deep water." It felt a little silly to admit -being nervous because of a myth- but that didn't make the feeling go away.

"Ki-" Her eyes met Kite's and then looked away. She could not bring herself to call her Nightingale. "The falls are close, just to the north." Indeed the land outside the Pines' borders was crisscrossed with streams that wound to and away from the Secret Falls, but some areas were deep and swift while others were barren of fish. "We could look?" She suggested with a gentle nod for Kite to lead the way if she wished.

BROKEN TIMBER PINES

Nightingale listened as the other spoke. Nightingale had already deduced that they couldn't have met at the Caldera. When would she have went by anything other than Nightingale? The Caldera had been with her all of their life, she said. Nightingale didn't have a real choice in the matter of believing them or not. In her time with them, she had been convinced. As the woman continued on and spoke of thickets and then coming to this place, Nightingale wondered at the detail of it but didn't begrudge anything about it. In fact, she even appreciated it. Valleys and mountains and thickets comprised this world. It was so wonderfully broad and diverse; Nightingale had only known the Caldera. What made the place up made mountains easier to climb. She wasn't an expert still but didn't fear them as she once never knew she had.

As they spoke of fishing, Nightingale listened to the other confide in her. Oh, she returned, and scrunched her nose up some. It didn't take long to relax; she was easygoing by nature, and since the other wasn't pushing the topic any longer (because she had been convinced, Nightingale would believe) Nightingale felt her lips tingle; as Nightingale bombinate, she wondered if the other wanted to even fish at all that an offer to try in shallower waters might be worth it. Or, it could bring her some humiliation... fifty-fifty odds of gaining company and feeling worthless. Really she knew better than to believe that, but in the moment?

The other went and spoke again and was looking at her. The lack of the words finish Nightingale could appreciate, knowing what it would form. Nightingale chalked that up to her familiar face rather than the others genuine belief of it. It seemed that the other would want her company which was nice, and the songbird smiled happily. But at the others gesture for her to lead the way, she sniffed thoughtfully and asked, Would you mind leading the way? I don't know these parts so well. Maybe you know of some shallower waters where we might find some fish, too. Then I can teach you there if you like. Her tail waved. 'm sorry, what was your name? Better to ask now than refer to her again as nothing but the other, she figured.

There is a family of deer nearby. Hunt Opportunity

"Of course," Iopah thought that the distant crash of water might have been enough of a guide, but she'd forgotten how the massive trees could make the sound echo and reverberate. The low hum was everywhere, even if she didn't actually use it to navigate by. She glanced up at the familiar red cedars that spanned out of sight and grinned. Iopah loved her home regardless.

"It's this way." She murmured to Kite as the older woman took up a narrow path that lead through the undergrowth of salmonberry brambles and frost-burnt ferns. At the question Iopah's ears folded back for a heartbeat, the worry turning over in her chest. They had already met, now the former pack-mate was asking for her name all over. "I'm Iopah." Giving her last name felt like inviting confusion -for it had changed since the two plains wolves had last spoken- and Iopah wanted to spark Kite's memory not muddy it further.

At one point the path split and Iopah veered left, following it out to a wide expanse of pool that the falls emptied into. She stepped to the edge of the shore, water lapping at her toes, and looked back for Kite. "How about this?" It was shallow here, save for where the water cascaded down on the opposite side. A slight current eddied the surface and Iopah peered close. Was a flash of scales or simply the river stones underneath?

BROKEN TIMBER PINES

Nightingale smiled as the other obliged. The other who, once introduced, Nightingale could now identify as Iopah. Her tail waved; she had missed the hesitation, her mind overwhelmed by the pretty sights around her. Nightingale and Kite were antipodes; they shared the personality, but certainly not the history {given the amnesia}. Nightingale was only aware of her life as Nightingale; others had filled in the blanks. That Hawk had been courting her, and that she had been accepting only the beginnings of his affections prior to the memory loss. Whatever affection there might have been between her and Hawk Nightingale 2.0, the one with no memory, was quick to wave off. It had made Hawk furious, but his impatience only served to push her further away. They had no connection, none at all. Even with his promises that they had connected, that this was her mindlessness speaking for her, Nightingale could not think that this could have been true. Owl had told her that it wasn't love that made her do these things, but the promise of leadership. Ambition Nightingale supposed she could buy... but it felt wrong. And so she continued to snarl at Hawk's advances. That was but one piece of it; that apparently she had been an aunt to the cubs she had killed {not out of neglect}. Aunt not by blood, however. An adopted sister. Adopted sister that was dead. But Nightingale had never dreamed of that adopted sister; she did try to summon her... but all of her dreams led her to one face. A face she could never remember come the morning, but a face that she knew she must return to by nightfall.

Nightingale continued to survey the land, sniffing 'round all the while. Sometimes her muzzle would brush against the earth and others be tilted toward the sky. When the path split, Nightingale was more mindful of Iopah and the direction they took, and soon she moved beside her, keeping behind the woman's shoulder. Her ears swiveled as the sound of water grew louder, and the tawny she-wolf waved her tail enthusiastically. Upon arriving to the shoreline, Nightingale saw the very same flash of silver that Iopah did; she only knew what it was. Perfect! Okay, so, she began, shifting in place, antsy to begin. Move slowly into the water. You want to become a part of it. So the fish don't spook. But you wanna get toward the center. Patience is key. You gotta stand very still until the fish think you're a part of the river. It takes a while but not too long. Soon they'll be comfortable enough to swim right near you, touch your legs and all of that... that's the point when you go for it.

Nightingale moved into the water one leg at a time, moving at a pace that resembled spilled molasses. Very slow, but spreading, becoming a part of the water herself. She was a pro angler, and these aquatic rats of the sea were her bread and butter as a lone wolf. The water was cold, but not cold enough to be unbearable. Nightingale paused a moment to look over her shoulder and check the progress of her newfound friend, keen ears swiveling toward her to listen, also.