Whisper Marsh if you love me

RE: Rook, since everything is covered in snow you made a wrong turn and are now unsure of your location. (courtesy of Sarah).

you never call me when you're sober

With @Veho and @Oula seemingly preoccupied, Rook had only started to nurse his insecurities and the uneasiness that had easily bubbled to the surface the morning he awoke and found that Veho was nowhere within earshot. The season of coupling was upon Relic Lore once more and both of his lovers were gone. As much as he resented letting Quil go to follow her own whims and rediscover herself, he also found himself combatting the jealousy he vowed never to feel when this had all started. Wherever he followed Veho into the woods, he scented her on his path. This had become all too frequent since he had returned home and it made him sick to a point where he had to empty his stomach just to alleviate his anxiety and replace those feelings with something akin to hollowness. If he was going to honest with himself, he had probably done this a couple times too many and, apart from being half-hungry, he was numb and starved of socializing solely with his partner.

He attempted to clear his head and nose by leaving Grizzly Hollow altogether. At first he had only meant to wander just beyond the borders, but then he deviated as to further remove himself from the Leaders' scent trails. The tree line soon gave way to the Marsh and upon realizing just how far he had wandered, he found that with an accidental turn he had practically lost his way. All the typical landmarks he used to head back home {the long way around} were still blanketed with snow and his newfound numbness made him not want to use his nose at all.

The corners of his mouth turned downwards. His skin flushed uncomfortably against the chill that seeped through his already thinning coat as he thought of Merlin. As much as he dared to think about the depths of Jasper Rocks, he thought against it with different ways to go about mentally maintaining himself. If he had believed that his and Veho's bond was strong enough to outlast the turn of the seasons, then he had to be sure he could uphold his end.

It was with a rather pitiful motion that his bear-like ears swept back and his head craned upwards. He had felt like this several times before, being somewhat lost and alone; the only difference was that he was older and mature enough to know now that he had somewhere and someone to come back to... and that, for as long as he had them within Grizzly Hollow, he could at least try to enjoy what laid in wait for him beyond the cedars.

If this isn't an AW then I can delete this (or just let Tomen exit), let me know! <3

It had to happen eventually. With Tomen spending so much time deliberately outside of the pack borders, mostly to avoid crossing paths with those within it, fate would have to spite him. It had been too easy to simply become socially-adverse, a wolf of few words and thin smiles, who preferred the company of a single small owl to almost anyone else. Almost - he still warmed at the presence of @Nineva, though she was distracted with her own woes of late. And his grandmother, soft-spoken and gentle, a kind mystery, she was still the same. But the rest? Those who were not pure strangers were as good as them; Tomen felt like he didn't know any of them any more.

It wasn't often that Tomen came quite this far, though - he normally found peace in the cedars, which were enough to feel like home without the suffocating qualities which hung over his pack lands like a corpse's stench. But, as was wont to happen to him lately, his feet disconnected from his brain and suddenly he had been in the marshland, and it was with no more than a shrug that he accepted it and carried on. If he only wanted an escape, then one wild place was as good as any other. Who cared if he took a little longer getting back? He wasn't even sure if he wanted to sleep back there tonight.

He had spent several hours in the Whisper Marsh, half-heartedly enjoying its relative newness, having never spent any significant amount of time there. It was quiet here, quiet and calm and faintly damp, which Tomen found soothing. All the scents he was used to were washed away here, replaced by its own unique aroma, and the disassociation was comforting. Once upon a time it would have made him uneasy to be so separated from the things which reminded him of Grizzly Hollow, but it was different now.

With the same aimlessness that had brought him here, Tomen began to pick his way back towards the cedars, and thus it was that fate struck. Lost in a head fog, he almost didn't notice the shape of a wolf in the corner of his eye as he walked, head low, but something made him glance to the side, made him pause as he recognised that unmistakable figure stood several yards away, head up, ears back, looking at nothing. Tomen stood, one paw about to hit the ground, frozen in time. He blinked.

Then, without a word, he carried on walking.

Please.... Tomen is def' welcome here. c;

you never call me when you're sober

He wasn't alert enough to scent his son on the afternoon breeze, the sort of chill that told of an impending storm - the first heralds of Spring. It had been sheer luck that the older Lyall had turned his head and focused on the retreating figure. His heart hammered about his ribs and it was by impulse alone that he reacted at all. He staggered in the snow on his stocky limbs, attempting to barrel through a tough spot where the virgin snow was still piled up to his chest.

"Tomen!" he called out in a pant. Like it had been with Veho, it had felt like eons since he had seen the boy, and it seemed that the few weeks and months apart had replaced the youngster he had left behind in Veho and Jaysyek's care. He was tall, more sturdily built than ever - definitely a Lyall. It was perhaps this inkling alone that sent him running to catch up. He could relate; he didn't have his father around for a while when he had been young. Borden, at that time, had just begun to act out; and, eventually, Rook and Bishop were simply no longer his children.

Rook had a chance to rekindle this connection and he was going to take it.

As he approached, he tried to gauge whether or not Tomen would slow or pick up his feet and make a run for it. "Hey," he tried to put on a smile as best as he could. He waved his tail as a non-verbal signal to let the near-yearling know that he really did feel a little bit better than he looked.

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

There is a rabbit\'s nest nearby. +1 Health

Damn it. Not fifty paces back, there had been a large tree stood right in the middle of Tomen's intended direction, and as he had approached it the idle question of which way? had occurred to his otherwise unoccupied mind. With no good reason to pick left or right, he had waited to see which way his legs took him once the choice was forced, for instinct wouldn't have let him walk smack into the trunk. Coincidence had turned him right, and almost immediately afterwards the easy path had continued to veer a little right, the left made difficult by dense shrubbery.

Maybe if he'd gone left, instead, it would have taken him safely past where his father had been inexplicably lurking, and neither would have been any the wiser. But alas.

Tomen ground his teeth together as the sound of his name rang out, but he didn't stop. Nor did he speed up; while the latter would have had the desired effect of reducing the likelihood of a conversation with his father, it felt entirely wrong to behave so churlishly, so childish, so plain rude. If Rook had commanded him to stop, the boy would have. He couldn't just disobey and be that disrespectful; his strong desire to avoid a confrontation was still not enough to make him into that much of a brat.

But he hadn't been told to stop. Jaw clenching and unclenching as his father caught up, Tomen glanced at his parent primarily out of respect - but it was so brief that his eyes were once again on the path ahead before he had even seen Rook's weak smile and tail wag. "What's up," he said flatly back, it barely even a question. Balancing minimum effort required with maximum amount that he cared was a tricky and unpleasant business.

you never call me when you're sober

The youth glanced back at him but only for the briefest of moments. Rook had expected him to return his smile. He didn't. In return, a rather monotone greeting regarded him in the place of a tail wag or even a nod in greeting. "Whats up." The older Lyall's lips pressed into a hard line as they walked along. The longer he took to piece together his part of the conversation, to keep it afloat without any awkward pauses, the more he found the self-reproach gnawing at his insides again.

He continued to try to match Tomen's pace, dreading all the while that the boy had not wanted to stop and talk at all. "I was just wondering how you were," the way his voice lilted in tone every couple of words told of his waxing skittishness. For Rook, this was him and his father all over again. Without the dementia. In just a matter of a season, they had been rendered into complete strangers.

"I'm sorry you couldn't come with us, your Mother and me," well, that was a poor attempt at a conversation starter. "Have... How... How've you been?" Rook inwardly hoped that Tomen would say yes (even if at this point, he was sure he was going to be subject to an emotional outburst not unlike his own when he had a fit), and he knew it was wholly foolish of him to wish it so. The only thing that was possibly keeping him grounded, though, was the fact that he and Quil would have never left him behind if they knew that Veho, Jaysyek, and the rest of the pack could not competently care for him (as well as Nineva).

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Rook probably hadn't realised that Tomen had seen him and deliberately walked away without a word. The already quickly-awkward situation would have been even more so if the father knew that his son had chosen to avoid him, and the idea that his father was hurt by Tomen's standoffishness, didn't understand it, made his heart ache dully. The man was still his father, still loved even despite it all. That's why it was so painful.

A silence fell between them as Tomen waited for Rook to pick his words. He certainly was in no mood to offer more, focused solely on the feeling of his paws hitting the ground, of moving them through the fresh layer of snow, one after the other, onwards. Together they walked, and yet apart they stood, a pit between them which Tomen wasn't convinced his father could yet see.

Or maybe he was wrong in that. Tomen remembered very clearly what it had been like to watch his father bear witness to the death of his father, of the weakness and pain and confusion in his voice as he had spoken with - with - with Veho, and he thought that there was a similar quality to his tone now. Wavering, unsure. Not to mention the wishy washy sentiment; how are ya, kiddo?! How've you been since your mother and I left and then I came back and oh you're super far from important to me any more by the way and I've got a new boyfriend and it's all probably what drove her away. Sorry.

As though he had read Tomen's mind, but mistaken the meaning, Rook apologised for the both of them leaving him alone; in immediate response, Tomen's jaw just clenched shut, the boy unable to loosen it even if he had wanted to. He didn't mind that they'd needed to look for aunt Cinder; she was family, his mother's sister, of course they should have tried to find her. Of all their crimes, temporarily leaving the pack on a search was the least of them. Tomen could accept an apology for that, because it was the easiest thing to say sorry for, and the least meaningful.

Hearing the hesitation in Rook's voice hurt, intellectually aware that his father was reaching out and yet emotionally cold and so opposed to grabbing the tentatively offered olive branch. He both wanted to run away and shout and cry all at the same time, and so it was much easier to just shut down.

"Fine," he said, in much the same tone, such a teenager. Wring that stone for blood, Rook.

(This post was last modified: Mar 17, 2016, 04:08 PM by Tomen.)

you never call me when you're sober

Where Rook had stuttered, Tomen had absolute control of his own words - or, well, word - and all the older Lyall had received in return was a singular syllable in reply. "Fine." Rook felt his chest threaten to collapse in on itself. His son seemed like he was not going to stop anytime soon; on and on they went, the near-yearling practically going wherever he so desired while his father poorly tried to keep up.

Rook's lips pursed and his eyebrows angled downward. "Tomen," he called to his companion's attention again, his voice still soft and far from demanding. He practically had to dodge a tree at some point (not from his son's sense of navigation but his absentmindedness). Those mismatched eyes peered at the side of the boy's face, his facial expression silently pleading for him to look back and fully acknowledge him.

A short whistle of a whine left his nostrils and it wasn't long until it all felt as though just this encounter alone was making him have an anxiety attack. His heart beat too fast, his breath at risk into turning into pants; if this kept up, he was almost certain he would collapse. Just then, a terrible idea struck him between the eyes: Maybe if @Quil had been here, they... he wouldn't have had this problem.

"Tomen, stop..." as loud and as pressing as it was on the ears, it was only a sharp bark and a sorely attempted growl that fizzled into a whimper. He pulled himself from the boy's side and picked up his pace, hoping to come around to see his face in full. He might have been successful in his feat, if only he had been paying attention to everything else around him. He walked face first into a tree, the contact eliciting a muffled yelp from him as his head bowed down and his left paw came up to press his wrist to his temple. "Stop!" he winced, sniffling as he blinked at that bobbing black tail. "I'm trying to talk to you!"

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

It still wasn't quite a command, not technically. The stern use of his name was a warning and plea all in one, but Tomen was too stubborn to take the hint. It felt wrong to disobey an implied request, to deny his father what he wanted, but at exactly the same time... he didn't give a shit. Hot and cold all at once, he continued to choose the numb route. As his father was yet to ask a question, there was also nothing to respond to, and so they continued marching on for those eternal few moments before Rook finally spoke the magic words and then promptly walked into the tree.

The stop had been enough, but the sound (and sight, for he had turned to angrily meet his father's eyes at the same time as coming to a halt) of Rook's soft thud into the trunk made concern leap into his throat. His mouth opened to speak but he was rendered momentarily speechless, caught between stubborn sullenness and wanting to make sure that his father - who was, y'know, still his dad - hadn't hurt himself. I'm trying to talk to you!

Tomen winced. He knew, that's what he'd been running from.

"...Are you okay?" he asked quietly, the apathy replaced by a hesitant concern, the bitterness in his expression washed out by a fleeting familiar warmth - but fleeting it was. Though he took a single step towards his father, he was unable to manage anymore, stuck somewhere between love and resentment, and it was making all of his potential actions feel wrong. Numb. The only safe path was to be numb.

you never call me when you're sober

A spot somewhere along the broad rectangle that made up the center of his forehead and above his brow was smarting. At least, Tomen had had a mind and heart to stop. If the boy had just gone off without a care in the world, Rook would have probably just sulked, stared after his son with tears in his eyes and a bitterness on his tongue. For the young Lord to pay such heed, told the older Lyall that there was hope yet; but, as Rook worried, this potentially could have been his one and only chance to reach out.

"Yeah," Rook assured him, lowering his paw after a few seconds of keeping it pressed to his throbbing temple. "I'm fine. I just..." His mismatched eyes peered into that dark face, seeking out those golden eyes. His jaw jumped as he collected his thoughts again, gathering them at the front of his mind, converting them into proper sentences, statements, questions... "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?"

Flashbacks to spending the evening hours with Borden crossed his mind and he tried hard to not let the thought let him down. If he could have that sort of relationship with his own son, he would have been forever grateful; if not, he was willing to let Tomen have his space. All Rook wanted him to know was that he was loved and wanted. "You can talk to me about anything; even if it's me you're frustrated with, angry at, concerned about..." He tipped his muzzle upward to stretch out his neck before exhaling slowly. It had dawned on him just then that Tomen was possibly in a hurry for something (whatever it was, it was probably really none of his business). "That's all," he concluded. "It's important to me to know that you're okay."

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.