Red Fern Forest song of sixpence

As ever, let me know if you want anything changed, busy makin' stuff up for fun <3

Three times a day, everyday, for the past week, Solitaire had made the call. Once at daybreak, once at the sun's highest point, and finally at dusk. It was a technique taught to them for those times that far-afield scouting was required, or if anyone got separated. She would find a quiet area, lift her head, and let the rising three-tone melody loose, and then would wait patiently for the next three notes to be returned. For the first six days, there was nothing but silence (or, one morning, the tuneless wail returned by some stranger who had heard her call, and Solitaire had rolled her eyes and kept quiet).

On the seventh day, though, as she had passed through red rolling hills as the sun hung overhead, alone for nearly a week but calm and cool as a crow, the three notes had come back, clear as day. @Warbler - Solitaire had finally found her. Briefly and curtly they coordinated a meeting spot, and there Solitaire was waiting.

There was a small knot in her gut as she waited among the ferns, for while she eagerly anticipated reuniting with her searching partner, Solitaire only had failure to report. Perhaps Warbler had had more luck, but the woman had sung no mention of it, and surely it would have been one of the first things shared. The trail had gone stale a long while back, but Warbler was driven by a selfless determination that Solitaire admired (but found somewhat out of character... she respected the woman, but Shrike's daughter was a prickly sort, so it was nice to see her try so hard to bring their lost songbird back safely) and so the search was continuing even through the winter. Especially through the winter! If Nightingale had gotten herself lost or in danger because they did not find her in time... Solitaire would never forgive herself.

Of course, they needed their lost songbird for the safety of the Caldera - that had been Warbler's reason. While it was an incredibly important cause, requiring no other excuse... Solitaire knew that, privately, she just wanted to see her poor, mind-lost friend again. How would Nightingale survive without their guidance? How had they been so careless as to let her wander so far? The thought of the Caldera's doom was cold and terrifying, but surely they would have brought it on themselves.

Solitaire.

She was greatly surprised to hear the other out of The Caldera. If Warbler did not know any better, she would have believed to feel the cold feeling of fates fingertips creeping up her spine to press heavily onto her shoulder. A reminder of the prophecy. For a moment, there was that thought. It is true. It will fall apart, for that tawny thing... And then she shook her head. It was made by Shrike to doom Warbler's own chance at a reign, and that was all. There was no glow of premonition as her mother breathed these words to the Caldera; only a steady, straightfaced stare.

The gaunt Warbler moved to their decided rendezvous. All the while she thought. Solitaire was a wolf who cared for the sisters and brothers of the Caldera; she, too, was a wolf who had been there all of her life. Warbler supposed she should be thankful for the prophecy. It meant others like the goodhearted, gentle wolf who had left home would assist her in her search. None knew, of course, of Warbler's true intent; none ever would.

She moved through the forest and emerged through a break in the wood, luminescent eyes holding to the other. Warbler bore the other no love, but that was never for the other to know, either. She had a reputation among The Caldera. Prickly, yes, but all for the safety of those she loved. It was Shrike who had insisted this, and Warbler would not refute it, false though it was. Warbler loved nothing more than power, and as it was in her reach she became all the more colder.

It was not to be seen. Warbler waved her tail and moved to greet the other with a gentle bump of her muzzle to the others temple. It is good to see your face, though it makes me uneasy, as well. It is as though we are unknowing pawns in this prophecy. It is not so, is it, Solitaire? You have come to help me find her, to bring her home? her eyes were expressive, full of true hope. Simply not for the reason she expressed. But that hope? It was a real, living thing, and it radiated from her.

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health

Sorry for the wait! Let's get this back on the road :D

The long, thin legs of a familiar frame came into view, and Solitaire's tail beat a soft rhythm against the cold earth as Warbler approached. She returned the affectionate greeting with her own, touching her nose to the younger woman's chin in a quiet acknowledgement of respect and rank, for even out here Warbler's importance was higher than her own.

"We are all but servants to the prophecy," Solitaire cooed, hoping to bring some relief to her kin, seeing the hopefulness writ clear and open on the other's face. "Yes, I have come to help find our lost Nightingale. I fear for us all if we do not. When you left, I - I knew I could not stay idle. I hope my presence does not impose on your mission. I fear my effectiveness is lesser on my own." While, in the bluntest of truths, the notion of spending a considerable amount of time with Warbler and Warbler alone was not appealing, Solitaire knew that her own social desires were very low in the grander scheme. She was already being selfish enough by coming here with the wish to see Nightingale just as much as to repair the path of the prophecy, and, besides, she felt sympathy for Warbler. It must be hard to have the reputation she did, no matter if she deserved it or not. Perhaps a friendly, understanding face out in the wilderness would do her some good. Maybe this could even bring them closer in the long run.

The others first words were all Warbler wished to hear. The others belief in the prophecy was what she needed the other to hold for her own selfish sake. And Solitaire would be none the wiser to it! And so her pleased expression was genuine, too. Warbler had not held her breath; she breathed easy, and would continue to do so, throughout this encounter. She was a seasoned veteran in the war of manipulating others, and she was comfortable in the saddle of it. There was no reason for one so scrawny and weak (in appearance) to have such a commanding air, but others did not test it when she presented it. Surely for their own good? Fortunately, it was so for her own.

You need not even think that way. Two in this search is certainly better than one, Warbler decided with a nod of her head. My search here has only truly just begun. No luck, yet, Warbler frowned. We must find her before the first of heavy snows, for the better of the Caldera. Surely this prophecy would be the ruin of us this season. Drifters. Death. Belief was a powerful thing. And Warbler was happy to feed paranoia to the other. Warbler had everything to gain from it.

@Warbler

Seeing the pleasure on the woman's face encouraged Solitaire's spirits to raise a little - they'd be okay, they'd find their lost songbird and the prophecy would be saved. The reassurance was welcome, though she had not entirely expected it from Warbler, but perhaps she had just misjudged her kin. Solitaire bowed her head in respect and appreciation for Warbler's understanding, and let herself breathe just a little bit easier.

But no, that relief was premature, as Warbler so keenly went on to point out, and Solitaire's gaze snapped back up at the thin-legged woman, eyes widening. She hadn't been unwise to the deadline imposed by nature, but to have it so bluntly pointed out... she swallowed, and nodded slowly, mind beginning to race as she hoped and prayed to all that was good that her friend had at least found somewhere safe to reside during this winter. Safe in the meantime, for then she would come back home with them.

"The prophecy is as it is," she whispered, focusing on Warbler's face once more. "We bend and sway to its demands. But yes, yes you are right - these are trying times, difficult times, and to think that poor Nightingale could be out here all on her own... we {i}must find her, Warbler."[/i]