Mountain of Dire Dread in My Heart

Sorry for the wait, @Reyes
Set the morning after this thread, with the details vague. He's somewhere on Mountain of Dire outside of Spectral Woods.

His everything hurt, and he was tired. But he was alive, even if he felt like there was no way he had enough energy in his body to even exist. The night before was a blur, a chaotic and disjointed blur that he didn't care enough to sort through. And for him, that was that.

The forests where everything was shrouded in fog and silence were behind him. He abandoned them at the foot of the mountain, far below. And he totally wasn't pretending they even existed in the first place. If you asked him about his opinion on forests he'd say that trees were nice, but thick clusters of them should never have existed. If he had any say, the world would be nothing but hills and mountains and innocent little trees that didn't bunch together and torture him. In the distance he could hear the chatter of birds waking up from their cozy little nests and branches, their sounds cutting right through his hazy thoughts. He was tired, his mind was full of clouds just like the ones above in the pale blue sky

He didn't bat an eye when his paws just decided to stop listening to his brain. And he didn't bat an eye when he stumbled, crashing into the ground with a solid thud that reverberated through his entire body. Instead he accepted his fate, chest pressed firm into the grass below and rear sticking high up in the air behind him. From somewhere in the back of his throat he let out a slow, long whine that he called verbal despair.

(This post was last modified: Oct 14, 2016, 11:26 PM by Cottongrass.)

No worries! Mild warning for language. x _ x;; Reyes has no filter.

Despite the previous… confrontation on the slopes of Mountain of Dire, the swarthy loner hadn’t found a reason to leave it just yet. The air here was cold, biting into his nose and his ears, but there was something so thrilling about it, so different from the sand and the punishing heat he’d grown up with. A little further down the side, yes, but Reyes was not quite ready to return to the forest floor proper – there was something addicting to the thin air and the ability to overlook the forest burning with leaves of red, orange, and gold.

The wolf continued his aimless trek, stomach reminding him it still needed to be filled when a crashing caught the wolf’s attention. Ears strained forward as he lifted his head, pivoting in the direction of the sound. For a brief moment, he hoped for a fallen mountain goat or deer, breaking a leg and dooming itself.

In the next breath, that dream was dashed – the long, low whine that followed was definitely canine. Reyes huffed and rolled his eyes, half a mind to leave…but already his mind was whirling, and the wolf reoriented himself, paws thundering across the rubble until he came across the patch of white, a stark contrast to the cobble around them. “…the fuck are you doing, kid? Get up before someone takes you for a bitch in heat, huh?”

The whole entire world was too loud. He just wanted to sleep away the rest of his days, and maybe he'd become one with the mountain side. That wouldn't be too bad, would it? He'd haunt the forests below and he'd make himself a humble living as a mountain. The stranger was too loud, and he groaned at the sound of their voice blaring somewhere above him.

He let gravity's embrace take him, crumpling onto his side and curling away from the male. It took him a second before the words settled, and he let out what could be a huff of amused laughter. But otherwise - he refused to move from his very cozy spot on the mountain side thank-you very much. If the wolf wanted him to move, they could scruff him like a puppy because he wasn't budging otherwise.

"No." No to getting up, no to 'being a bitch in heat' even as funny as that thought was, and no to everything else. "'m tired." He was a petulant child and they would have to deal. His yellow eyes settled somewhere in the distance. The mountain range stretched on for miles ahead of him, he gave a slow blink of acknowledgement. If only the mountains weren't sideways...

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity

What a fuckin’ baby, huh?

Reyes grumbled softly to himself, brows knitted together as he watched the pathetic youngster mope aimlessly as he stayed where he was.  The other wolf didn’t much an inch, didn’t even get up from the ground, even if he did shuffle around a little bit – the older loner had half a mind to snake his head forward and bite the kid on the ass, just to teach him a lesson.

The thought was discarded a moment later – as much as he thought the stranger needed a lesson (or several), he didn’t much fancy a mouthful of ass.  Or winter fuzz.  Or whatever dirt of parasites the other loner was carrying, for that matter.  Reyes arched his eyebrows at the thought, circling the little beast slowly, sizing him up.  Eventually, he did stop before pale yellow-green eyes, tipping his head to one side.  Maybe there was something wrong with the kid.  Didn’t look hurt – blood always showed up on bright white.

With a huff, he sat a length away from the stranger, head tipped to one side as he continued to consider his options.  You’re going to regret this, the voice in his head told him, but Reyes had long stopped listening to that particular sound.  “You tryin’ t’die, kid?”

(This post was last modified: Oct 15, 2016, 07:56 PM by Reyes. Edit Reason: Fixing a post. )

He could hear the male circling around him, the weight of their footfalls slow and steady in his ears. Something akin to anxiety spiked in his heart, the emotion low and keening in his ears. Did he give the wrong answer? Was his childishness too much? His view of the mountains was taken over by the stranger sitting down before him. They seemed annoyed with him.

It was that realization that had him clambering to his paws, heaving himself up so he could sit across from the wolf. He blinked, yellow eyes searching for answers to his own questions. They didn't seem angry. With their head titled, it was more like concern or just curiosity. It didn't make him feel any less confused. Their question made everything inside of him balk for a panic-filled second, because that felt like a threat. Or was it a genuine question? He didn't know, and that's why a sleepy Cottongrass shouldn't be allowed around others.

"I'm just tired." He repeated, because he was banking on the possibility that the wolf was just concerned and not mad. That didn't feel like enough for him, and he was tempted to start rambling about how he spent the past few days lost in the woods. He could bring up a lot of things and just start talking, but he felt as if that wasn't what the situation needed. "Maybe hungry." He finished saying, because food always sounded good to him. If the stranger was offering some help, he'd be down to eat. That perked him up, gaze curious on the man's own expression.

(This post was last modified: Oct 16, 2016, 02:35 PM by Cottongrass.)

I’m just tired.

That didn’t really answer his question, the wolf thought with a huff. Maybe the kid needed a nap, sure, but he was damn stupid if he thought this was a good place, exposed to the elements, exposed to other animals. Wolves meaner than him (or Reyes, really, if he was having a worse day). A brow raised. “Y’know there are mountain lions in these parts, right?” he rumbled, wondering if this loner had considered his vulnerability. He hadn’t been on his own that long, clearly – and he wasn’t going to be for much more time, if he continued to make bad choices like this.

And then the kid brought up food. “…we’re all hungry, y’shit, join the damn club,” he grumbled, mouth twisting sideways. As if to punctuate the thought, his stomach gave a loud growl, as if it were remembering the mountain goat that left him stranded on this stupid mountainside in the first place. If the kid's lexicon was too small to figure out anything else, at least he could understand that, yeah? And if he couldn't, well-- Maybe it was time to get off the slopes. Wasn’t having anything but shit luck up here. (Wasn’t having anything but shit luck, period.)

“…can you get up, brat? Could go for a hunt. Two wolves have better chances than one.”

No, he hadn't thought about any of the little worries. It all seemed simpler when he first started climbing the mountain in the night. He'd stumble up the slopes and find some kind of nook to shove himself in, and he'd sleep the day away. And if he was lucky - he'd happen upon a scavenged corpse or some kind of easy pickings. But nothing was going his way, was it? Instead he almost blacked out in the open and he met the wolf before him. Which wasn't that bad because the offer of food was now on the table, but he was getting the scolding of his lifetime.

"I uh, I hadn't thought about that." The that being mountain lions, his tone sheepish and expression bumbling. Because who would've connected those two dots? Mountains and lions, it made sense to him in hindsight. They were the scent that lingered on scavenged corpses, the screams late in the night that kept him on his toes. He'd yet to face one head on, and maybe that was for the best.

He didn't bat an eye at the wolf's command, or any of their graciously given nicknames. Instead he stood up, as obedient as could be as he waddled closer but not too close. Because he could hunt, even if it had been a long time since he last had a successful hunt. Maybe they wouldn't let him get trampled? Who knew, his tail wagged behind him and he gave an expectant stare for the wolf to lead the way. If following their orders got him food, he'd do anything.

With a distracted thought he figured he should tell them his name. "I'm Cottongrass." The words rolled easy off his tongue and he was absolutely expecting to hear theirs in return. His eager gaze and wagging tail almost demanded it.

(This post was last modified: Oct 16, 2016, 02:59 PM by Cottongrass.)

“…Cottongrass? Your mama name you that?”

Your mama hate you? he wanted to ask, but the swarthy male held his tongue. His own mother had taught him better manners than that (the phantom click of teeth rang out in his mind), and frankly, now that stakes were involved, shitty jokes weren’t worth it. Reyes raised an eyebrow at the youth. He knew what grass was (who didn’t?), but what the hell was ‘cotton grass’? Maybe he’d ask later—

There were more pressing matters afoot.

“Call me Reyes.” A much finer name, if he did say so himself. Kings. But, no, they weren’t here to compare names; if they were going to do anything together at all, it was catch a meal they could share. A bird was out – too small for two wolves. He could trick the kid, sure, but that really wasn’t the loner’s style. There were mountain goats around these parts, but it was unlikely they’d be able to keep up with one. That left marmots (hoping one was still out this late in the year), or a collection of rodents. Paws crossed.

“We’re lookin’ for ground critters, got it? Marmots. They burrow. So put your nose to use and sniff, huh? Smell like rodent.”

Big, fat rodent. A moment later, the dark wolf dropped his nose and did the same, turning over rocks and fallen brush as he sought out that mouth-watering scent.

He was expecting something, bigger. Like a mountain goat, or maybe they could dip down and find some deer hiding in the woods below. But he wasn't going to complain. If he got trampled every time he hunted something bigger on flat ground, he'd probably fall off the mountain and die a horrible death knowing his luck. And the forest gave him the creeps, it was too quiet. So he was fine with hunting ground critters. He paid the comment on his name no mind - it was a fuzzy plant, there wasn't much to it.

Instead he settled on memorizing what the wolf, Reyes, had said. Marmot, burrow, sniff. It sounded easy enough and he trailed after them, head down and nose huffing. He wandered back and forth behind Reyes, half paying attention to everything around him. A smell caught his focus and off he strayed with his nose skimming the ground. He followed the trail to a small rock outcrop, nothing more than a few slabs sticking out of the grass.

Was that... was that squeaking? He stood back, legs stiff and body tense as his ears strained. The rock was squeaking, or something underneath it was. Glancing over his shoulder he woofed, alerting Reyes to what he found. His tail wagged and he went back to sniffing at the rock, sure the smell was coming from under there. The squeaking only intensified as he took to prodding his snout underneath, where the smell was the strongest.