The Deep Forest a whale of a time

@Drift~

May 13, 2016; Early evening; Sunny; 68 ° F, 20 ° C.

It had been quite a while now since he had seen that first red-capped mushroom. So far, so good... at least, in regards to his (very) oblivious trek into the part of Canadian wilderness called Relic Lore. He'd seen only a number of mammalian creatures - foxes, coyotes, and otters - along the way, if only due to his eyes remaining on the ground a few meters in front of him. For the most part he was actively studying the plant life and, every so often, he would stop to smell any number of things: a broken branch, a flowering shrub, a rotting log, a flattened patch of grass... To say that Beirne Connor was looking for something was, at this point, an understatement. He was wanting, needing, longing for someone - and, that certain someone, was his brother, Quentin.

What was now a long time ago, Quentin had confessed that he was leaving. Beirne was supposed to be the only one who knew when and where he was going to leave the Weald, but little near-yearling Murphy had been nosy enough to get in on the big secret. He was going west, Quentin had said and Beirne was already second-guessing at this part of his journey that his brother had possibly said he was going east. 'I'll follow the streams,' he had said, 'and if th'river leads to the sea, I'll go 'bout the coast. If I end up at some random spring or the start of the river, I'll find the easiest way through the wood. Follow if ye want, but I'm goin' where I can be me own man.' He had even gone so far as to remember the things that had been said to their younger sister, 'Ye be a good lass, Murph. Maybe one day we'll meet again, but 'til then... Do what Mum an' Alby tell ye an' tell 'em not to worry. I love ye.'

All Beirne had received were a bunch of vague instructions; and, in the end, he cursed to himself for leaving so late. Quentin had gone at the end of Winter - now Summer was on the rise.

Through the dappled wood he went, cautious more than ever as he descended from the red, sand-covered hills. Not even ten steps past the tree line, he felt something sharp and thorn-like press its way into the underside of his left-- "Awwwwfeckin' 'ell!!" -- paw.

He stumbled backwards onto his rump, crying out in pain as he sent himself into a panic in trying to remove the Douglas Thornapple twig from in-between his paw pads. Desperate whimpers lifted from him as he grit his teeth, flinging the thorn-covered stick as far as he could manage without getting up - it practically just flew over his shoulder and landed by his black-tipped tail. If he ever managed to find Quentin, and he was still ever so hell-bent on the idea, he was going to be sure the older Connor never heard to end of his complaints regarding what it took to get this far.

MAY THE ROAD RISE UP TO MEET YOU

Taekwondo (M, W, F) | Rapid-Response Day (Tu) | WoW Nights (F, Sat, Sun)
Quentin may possibly join in any thread Beirne is in at any time, unless requested otherwise.

He couldn't say he had actively been avoiding spending too much time at the Bend, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend any more time there than he already was. The weather was lovely, the days were long, mud puddles had returned... and besides, back at home, all the women were acting strange (so much for hoping it was just a temporary ailment). He could only be grateful that (well so far at least) his sister was unaffected.

Ordinarily his wandering would take him north, or west in search of @Maeve or maybe @Kjors, but earlier that day he had discovered the wonderful world of boggy goodness that was the Dragonfly Fen. Oh @Sahalie was in for a wrestle when he got home! (Provided he could drag her away from whichever of her boyfriends was hogging her this evening of course - if not well then he'd just have to unceremoniously flop on top of her and anyone cuddling too close when he finally made it back to the pack den).

Speaking of which, a vaguely familiar yowl went up not far ahead. It was cooling down enough that he didn't have to worry about the mud that clung to his coat getting to dry by a slight diversion. What a racket... It was then his eyes fell on a familiar looking wolf... or at least he thought he looked familiar (but this was the same boy that thought all black wolves were Tainn's). What was it his sister called him again? Kook or something? Eh what did it matter. "S'halie's gonna be pissed if you get yourself lost again." The thought of his sister showing anything but longing concern was laughable of course, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to take a chance to push a few buttons while he could.

(This post was last modified: May 14, 2016, 12:12 PM by Drift.)

He hissed as he squinted at the underside of his forepaw. The faint trace of blood was present and he sorely resented this now apparent family trait: tender feet. Where the Weald was concerned, the place was an uneven plot of meadow that literally snaked through an old oak forest and their pack den had once been an underground whistlepig burrow with some of the tunnels widened and the rest collapsed. There were no rocks to dash toes on, no gravel to scrape paw pads against, and definitely no thorns to poke into the spaces between digits. The Connors of Winding Weald truly were tenderfeet when it came to the reaches of territory beyond their home.

Beirne was busy grumbling under his breath and giving the thorny shrub a very, very scornful glare when a youthful voice sprang from the depths of the forest before him. "S'halie's gonna be pissed if you get yourself lost again." His common-gold eyes darted to a pale figure in the gathering dark. It was a yearling at best or a rather small man. Beirne didn't even have to think before his answer came out, blunt and obviously confused. His accent even clipped the singular word in a way that might've made it also sounded irritated, "WHUT?!" This was the kind of answer he would have given Murph if she bothered him in the middle of studying something in the woods.

"S'halie who?" he quirked a brow now, his voice softening from the possibilities that were starting to branch out from this encounter. If he found himself a pack to stay with for the summer, he could 'pad up' enough to search further in the winter. If Quentin was still traveling by then, his tracks in the snow would be easy to follow. Hell, if he just had this S'halie and this muddied companion of hers to hang out with, between the three of them, his standards of traveling and living would greatly increase - no more getting startled in the middle of the night by a rustling leaf or a randomly dropping acorn.

MAY THE ROAD RISE UP TO MEET YOU

(This post was last modified: May 15, 2016, 05:52 AM by Beirne.)

Taekwondo (M, W, F) | Rapid-Response Day (Tu) | WoW Nights (F, Sat, Sun)
Quentin may possibly join in any thread Beirne is in at any time, unless requested otherwise.

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

Whut?! The response was unexpected, pale ears turned back and brows drew down as déjà vu washed over him. Maybe this wolf wasn't who he thought he was after all? He decided to inch closer then, neck outstretched as he tried to get a whiff of the stranger still several wolf lengths away, but the wind was against him and beyond the hint of earth and trees he couldn't detect much that might be identifying. "S'halie's muh sister... I-ah, thought you were the plant one." Quilty? His antisocial behaviour was coming back to bite him on the ass, that he couldn't even identify a pack-mate beyond the rude one, or the plant one or the big one. Perhaps he should make more of an effort?

But the stranger had been yelling and the mother might be displeased if he didn't at least ask what was ailing him. "Whatcher yellin' about?" he asked with a tilt of his head, a quick glance offered to the pale paw, held so tenderly above the forest floor. His own early travels had left his paws toughened and his coat still struggling to properly grow in to fill the patches where brittle fur had fallen out. The comparison was enough to set the boy on edge, his breath growing more shallow as his eyes struggled to focus. Drift probably resembled some wild beast with eyes that darted and a tongue that protruded from parted jaws but the tightness in his chest was difficult to ignore.

"S'halie's muh sister..." the boy easily replied. "I-ah, thought you were the plant one." Beirne momentarily frowned. How strange. Plant one? "Uh huh," he merely replied, the cogs in his head only just beginning to creak and clank and turn. He couldn't even remember when he had last seen another wolf. The rogue was about to ask a question when the lad continued on with a question, a curious and rather concerned one Beirne was quick to note.

"The bushes," he sourly replied, casting the offending shrub another glare, scowling at each little thorn he could see. "Tell me thar aren't anymore o' those in th'wood. I think I still gotta long way ta go 'fore I get ta where I'm goin'." He idly lifted his left paw and studied the underside of it as best he could. No blood, as far as he could tell, but damn that hurt. A rather unnecessary wave of his suspended limb and he gingerly set it back down. It stung a bit, but he was sure he could walk it off.

He was just about to ask if there was any other way past the forest when he was mentally jolted back to what he had been thinking of before. "Wait, wait, wait," he started, no even caring if he cut the boy off in an answer or any other matched bit of conversation. "Yeh said yer sister would be pissed..." It seemed as though he were only started to put the pieces of information together. "Like, she knew me... Do I- Do I look familiar to you?" Beirne wouldn't admit it, but he had always hated looking almost exactly like Quentin, but now this little phenomenon of them sharing a pelt pattern dictated his whole journey and the future beyond it. He didn't even care if he sounded crazy just about now if his assumptions of being mistaken for his brother were true. "Who am I?"

MAY THE ROAD RISE UP TO MEET YOU

Taekwondo (M, W, F) | Rapid-Response Day (Tu) | WoW Nights (F, Sat, Sun)
Quentin may possibly join in any thread Beirne is in at any time, unless requested otherwise.

His apologetic expression was all he could manage initially, as the other wolf voiced that it was the bushes that were causing him grief, "They're worse if you keep going that way," he indicated back towards the Fen, "but they aren't so bad near home," the word was emphasised with a tip of his chin behind the other male and in the direction he was facing, or well, that way somewhere. The next question made him a little more uncomfortable, do I look familiar to you? He allowed the silence to stretch out, considering (for once) the unfamiliar scent of the stranger before him. Then he asked again, Who am I?

"I dunno who you are, but I thought you were S'halie's friend, Koo...? Qyooo...? Somethin like that..." he followed it up with a shrug, and then it dawned on him that perhaps his sisters friend didn't even want to be found. "You kinda sound like him too though I guess, why you lookin' for someone?" he finally enquired. Perhaps he had done the wrong thing but it was too late to take the words back now, or maybe the mother had put him here and now for a reason? Who was he to question Her ways?