The Deep Forest Sick With Jade

For @Sahalie
Others welcome, but please ask first!

Larkspur was dragging himself at this point.

He usually did drag himself, it was usually just mentally. Now that the adrenaline had been replaced with fear, he pushed forward to get some space between him and the silver boy. He'd lost his meal hours ago, and somehow he felt... relief. He was lost again, he was tired still, still injured, and besides a few extra scrapes, bruises, and a re-opened scab or two, he was more or less in the same condition he was in before he'd encountered the duo. In that way, he'd gone back in time, just like he'd wanted. He was alone, with nothing but the sound of birds and bugs to help pound at his headache. It was peaceful, being so alone. He could almost just... fall asleep right then.

Unable to get to the ground gracefully, he let himself collapse. The ground was welcoming, feeling cool and smelling strongly of dirt. Larkin drifted in and out of sleep for a while, his snores and raspy breathing sounding more like growling. And maybe he was growling, at this point it was all he could manage to defend himself. You got beat by a kid. It had been too good to be true, to be left without the sound of his own voice rattling in his head. "He was a big kid," he laughed, then coughed. Aren't you better?

Laugh laugh, cough cough. "No, no better," he murmured, and then there was just silence. Just he, the headache, and the birds.

Larkin resumed his half-sleeping growl-snoring.

Talking with Alastor wasn't enough. Her heart would not rest and her mind would not give her a break. The poor loner had been at his wits end but had not deserved to be attacked. He would have been fine if she had never run into him at all. Which was probably why following his scent was not a good idea now, but she trusted Al not to follow her this time. She could only hope that the rest of the cavalry would come running and make a mess all over again. At least now she was armed with enough knowledge to handle the situation—probably—along with some plants that she had picked up on the way. Or really, plant since there was not an infinite amount of time for her to go "flower-hunting" for the heck of it. In her jaws she carried some White Fir bark, which, now that she nor anyone else was being threatened within an inch of their life, she recalled was useful for cuts and bruises. It was something, at least. Not enough.

He was not hard to find—the loner. He had not been hard to find the first time. Silently she hoped that she could give him the strength to push farther north so that Alastor wouldn't have to smell him anymore. This time the white man was on the ground, and for a moment she held her breath, afraid that he was dead. There was some movement though. And some growling.

"H-Hh-hey" she barked from her distance, dropping the bark at her feet. "Uhm. Uhm, it's me again. I brought you something.. I... wanted to say sorry. For everything." When would she quit?

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

When Sahalie announced her presence, Larkspur jumped and snorted. He peeked an orange eye at her, then closed it for a moment. Perhaps she wasn't there, just a dark, shadowy figure in the forest. She continued to speak, and generally exist, so he could only assume -- and hope -- that she was real. When the realization that she might not be alone hit him, he tensed and started to look everywhere but at her. His sniffer was at full speed, hoping to catch scent of Alastor. The silvery boy was nowhere to be seen (or scented, as it were), which didn't exactly calm the man. Instead, all he could smell was the girl, and the earth, and another dead deer, and that lynx that must have been following him around.

"You're not allowed to apologize," he got up, looking everywhere again. Lark's body hung low to the ground as he approached Sahalie, his breath caught in his throat as he took slow, cautious steps towards her. "You didn't do anything," sniff sniff, step. No Alastor. He took another step, this one more confident. "And I deserve a little bit more than a second hand apology," when he was finally close enough, he looked at her. She was mostly fine, with just a small scrape on the side of her mouth. Lark stared at it for a moment, as if to acknowledge that he saw it, then made himself comfortable right next to the girl. He didn't feel that much safer, but at least he had a shield.

His mind felt fogged with fear again, and Larkspur was quiet while he flinched at anything that sounded like a pawstep. "Is your friend okay?" he didn't care about Alastor, but he hoped that she could tell him exactly where he was, or warn him when he inevitably jumped out.

(This post was last modified: Jul 16, 2016, 09:48 PM by Larkspur.)

Sahalie was used startling others—specifically @Quentin—and only felt a small twinge of guilt to see the injured man jump. Surprisingly, he did not snarl at her. She was left to wonder if the fight had taken all the rage out of him or if she had already sufficiently demonstrated that she was no threat to anyone. Vaguely, she wondered what all the sniffing was about. There was more dead deer and some long-gone lynx, yet again, and for a moment the girl felt sick at twinge of deja vu that struck her. All that Sahalie could do was pray that no one else would show up and repeat the whole mess from the top.

At least he was coming closer, even if it was nervously. At his insistence that she was not responsible she uttered a small little, "Hmppf," and had she been human she might have slung one hand on her hip as she stared down at him. But there was no sense in arguing this. The comment that followed had her laughing again, and already she felt herself bouncing back to her regular self as she responded dryly, "Hah, you sure do, but I didn't figure you wanted to see Alastor again any time soon." For now a second-hand apology would have to do. Curiosity sparkled in her golden eyes as she stared up at the man settling right next to her almost as if nothing had gone wrong and he had never suspected her of trying to hurt him. This was a bit odd.

But she couldn't deny that it was nice.

Another bubble of laughter, "Al's a bit chewed up but he'll be okay. I told him to go home. Honestly I'm more worried about you, which I why I brought you this." Demonstrably, she poked at the bark at her feet. "You chew it and put it on your wounds or something. The sap is good for minor scrapes and stuff. I couldn't find anything else while I was following you. I've never used it before though...so... Idunno" Did he want to apply it himself? Did he want her help?

Larkspur let out a quiet grr as she spoke his attacker's name. "But maybe I do," he wasn't as giddy as she seemed to be, and still was on high alert. If not Alastor, who else might come? Her whole friendly pack could show up, and he'd be left with a shield that couldn't do much more than scream. "We could all get together, make nice and play a friendly game of hide and go seek," he could see it, maybe. "But I think forgiveness -- true forgiveness -- is a little bit too far out of reach for our little triage, I think." He considered forgiving Alastor. The boy hadn't done so wrong, he supposed. Larkspur wold have attacked too, and probably wouldn't have been so gentle.

And just like that, Alastor was forgiven. Getting an apology seemed right next to impossible, so it was about as good as he could do. He wasn't hurt any more, after all, with Alastor the one left with scrapes -- and maybe even scars -- of Lark's doing.

His attention turned to the bark she'd brought with him, then listened to her somewhat-unsure explanation of what it was and what it did. He didn't move towards the bark, and went back to sentry-duty. "Do you often take it upon yourself to follow strangers into the woods?" it didn't seem exactly wise of her. "Not everyone is as friendly and forgiving and pure," he let the word linger a moment, "as I am."

Lark thought about biting at her, curious if she'd fight back or be scared into a corner. He fantasized about grabbing her neck, and wondered if Alastor would pop out then. Or he could be home, and too far to save his little Sahalie this time. Larkspur licked at his maw and could taste Alastor's blood. "Your sweet, dark face and your big gold eyes can only get you so far, so fast, little Sahalie. Alastor was not all wrong in what he did," it didn't make it right, but Lark was certain that it had not been wrong.

The man was joking but it wasn't the same sort of light kidding she was doing, still the girl laughed all the same. He had nearly gotten his tail chewed off so she could forgive him for not exactly being in the best of moods. Or for being the way he was in general, if that was more appropriate. She liked to think that maybe if the man was strong enough she could convince him to come back to the Bend and stay there while he mended, that could possibly a good start to Forgiveness City, population: Sahalie. Perhaps she would broach the idea, but it would be better to feel the man out some more. He probably wouldn't want to live in the same square radius as Alastor, no matter what sort of games he was proposing.

His next question caused her to twist her head back and forth. At first she wasn't sure how to answer, and definitely wasn't sure if the whole "pure" thing was a joke or not from the extra emphasis that had been put on the word. He, very much like @Drestig, seemed to be under the impression that she was too sweet to be taken seriously and too innocent to prepare herself for the uglier parts of the world. As she chewed on her lip she let out another little, "Hmpff," again. "Well, not exactly. They do joke about me taking in a lot of strays back home, though. I like to help others. And I've got more than a cute face,"—was her face cute?—"And I'm more than capable of taking care of myself," she leaned in closer with narrowed eyes but a jocular smile on her face, "So no funny business."

She leaned back, "So where'd you get the scars." A laugh, "Besides Al, that is."

"Ah, so that makes you the temptress," some wolves were just easy to trust, and others just easy to fool. Not that he excluded himself from the latter, as he was comfortably laying beside the small, sweet-faced girl as if they'd been friends forever. She'd protected him, and although not successfully, he'd soak up all the little comforts he could get. Larkspur reached for the bark and sniffed it. It smelled like nothing in particular, just some sort of earthy, tree-y sort of smell. "I could never get into helping others," what an odd thing to confess to someone, he thought. "No good deed goes unpunished, or something."

When she narrowed her eyes and smiled, he returned it with a smile of his own. His wasn't so friendly, but she seemed to have a friendly sort of face. Larkspur just looked mean and angry and upset at nothing in particular and everything at the same time. "No funny business." He fiddled with the bark for a little bit longer, but quickly got bored and allowed himself to relax a little bit more. If Alastor was not there then, he was probably long gone. Or Sahalie had more power over the boy than he might have originally guessed.. not that he should be surprised. Not with how the kid jumped out of the shadows in his bright, shiny armor and flashing his teeth at him. Lark tried to see it going differently, but couldn't. He would have still been rude, and snappy, and scared. Nothing could be changed, and he'd gone back in time enough to have a bit of a do-over with the girl.

Laughing, again. "There's nothing funny about my pain," he sharply said. He waited a minute for the anger to boil back down, and huffed. "I'm going north," he didn't know where else to go. North seemed... right. Something in him screamed to go north, and every so often he could almost hear the wind telling him it was the right thing to do. "I could cut through a pack, or climb a mountain. I went through the pack, and the alpha wasn't really happy with my decision.

I hate climbing mountains," but he'd managed it, and now was in Relic Lore, near a so-called friendly sort of pack, maybe in a place where friendly had two different meanings. "I hope he's dead, with all the shit I had to be put through because of him," he was growling again, but settled down.

Temptress? She was confused on what he intended that word to mean, but she giggled anyway as if it had been a Very Good Joke. She didn't seduce anyone, or at least that wasn't how she saw it. And certainly it wasn't malicious or creepy or sexual in any sort of way because she was a child and on top of that most of these wolves had been collected when she was a mere four or six months of age. Sahalie hadn't even tried to recruit these wolves or anything, they all showed up days or weeks later of their own accord. They were attracted to something about her, maybe, she would grant that, but the attraction was way different than whatever was getting the adults knocked up. "I mean, it's not for everyone," she replied with a shrug, not in a mood to judge anyone's life perspective any more. "And I think you mean unrewarded. I ain't even been punished."

"Uhm, I mean, besides a few hours ago. Butthatwastheonlytime," she rapidly amended.

There were those yellow teeth again. Sure, the strange man's smile was possibly less inviting than that of most wolves she had met, but as long as he was smiling that was enough for her. Further movements also indicated that he was starting to calm down, starting to actually trust her. But clearly he wasn't going to tend to the bark-thing himself, and her paws began to itch as she wondered if the task then automatically fall to her. Her golden eyes darted up, ready to ask him for consent when suddenly her mouth fell open, instead ready to apologize. "I'm sorry."

She picked up the bark with her teeth and began to gnaw at it as the man chatted away. The north thing explained his quip to Alastor, and her eyes widened to hear him say something as bold and stupid as going through a pack's territory. Sure, mountains were rough... but he looked a hell of a lot rougher now. She spat out the bark poultice. "Well. I guess you paid for that. The responsible thing for me to do is to point out that there are some good tunnels through the mountains west of here if you ever get tired of going north."

"Now... If you hold still I can apply this, if you want. Uhm, it might sting? I'm not sure" Best beside manner in Relic Lore.
 

Lark gave her a 'I know what words I'm choosing you little child' sort of look, but then she back-tracked, and talked quickly without taking a breath. "It won't be," maybe it was the first time she'd noticed it, or maybe she hadn't gone far enough off of her pack's territory. Or hadn't met enough crazy loners, or other packs. "But it's not so bad," she looked like the type to not even care. Heck, he'd attacked her and her friend, yet here she was, playing nice and bringing him pieces of trees as peace offerings.

It sort of felt like deja vu. If he was going to be going north, he'd probably end up running into Alastor again. The next time likely would be without his little shield. Going past packs was easier, and usually if he was fast enough no one knew he was there. Avoiding wolves was easy, and outrunning them usually easier. This time he was injured, and tired, and had been feeding on scraps for weeks. "The world's gotta end eventually, or will at least the sea," maybe then he'd consider west.

Sahalie didn't seem too sure of herself, and he wondered if she had something that would actually help, or just gunk, or something that would burn his skin off. In the back of his throat, he grumbled, contemplating whether he should let the unsure-Sahalie put anything weird on him. He didn't even really want her to put any sort of gunk on him, and especially not something she'd just chewed up and spit out.

Lark huffed. He didn't have a choice, did he? Not if he wanted the company.

"Go on," he braced for the inevitable stinging itch from whatever gunk the kid was going to slather him in. "Hm. Wasn't it you that said your pack was friendly?" Lark flinched when he felt the wet goop touch him, and flinched again as she tried to put it on. He continued to grumble, and all in all he was a pretty bad patient. He did his best, or as good as Lark could do. He wasn't snapping at her, so he was trying. "Or is it just your boyfriend that attacks anyone that glances your way?"