Cut Rock River I Got a Ways to Go

For @Tomen :D
Backdated to November 15th — Sunny — 14 ° F, -10 ° C

He had left while Vic and Avery were sleeping, when the sun was only just rising beyond the horizon. Why? He wasn't entirely sure. Boredom, restlessness, a mixture of the two that pushed him to disappear for a few hours. It was supposed to only be a few hours, and he wasn't supposed to have gone far. But, well, one thing led to another - and he broke all of the promises he had told himself.

It's how he found himself standing by a river, but he thought the word stream would be better to describe it. The water was a trickle, he could probably cross it without dying, and it was - it was stream-like. But really, what did he know. He was from the north, far north, where the world touched frozen water. And -

He swore he saw something move, just beneath the river stream's surface. His train of thought fizzled down to a halt, the momentum stopped before it could even start. He shuffled closer towards the edge of the river, eyes narrowed and head cocked in rapt interest. There was ice covering the stream, water bubbling and gurgling between the cracks of the thin surface. He pressed one of his big paws to it. It gave way beneath the barest hint of pressure, even more water rushing up. Shadows moved at the bottom of the stream, blurry and distorted but still moving.

He blinked as he drew his paw out of the water. With a shuffle he planted his four paws firmly on the shore's edge. And without missing a beat - he stuck his head into the hole his paw had made in the surface. Murky, too murky. The water rushed his ears and something flinched against his snout. But he still didn't know what it was. He pulled back, tail wagging and expression confused. Shaking the water from his coat, he readied himself for another trip under the water. All to try and figure out whatever was lurking beneath the water.

(Those were fish, but how was he supposed to know that?)

Though he hadn't yet admitted it to himself, out of some strange, irrational sense of embarrassment, Tomen was heading south to visit his grandfather. Or, well, his grandfather's resting place, anyway. Tomen didn't know how much of the wolf himself was actually physically left, and it made him weird to think about, so he tried not to.

But there were things on his mind, things he wanted to talk about, and Prudence had less patience for him these days what with her much-increased family size. Rather than confide in a packmate, or corner some poor loner into listening to his whining, Tomen thought that... maybe the dead would listen without judgement, without complaint. And hey, he'd never really known Borden, so it was an opportunity to get to know the legendary man, right? Even if it was one-sided, at least there could be a little bit of family bonding. Tomen felt so disconnected from the Lyalls and was at a point in his life where he didn't know whether he wanted to grasp onto the remaining, fraying rope with all his might... or take a sharp knife to it, and wave goodbye.

Even as he walked through the woodland he knew so very, very well, he felt foolish for thinking that a dead wolf might give him enlightenment, but still, he wasn't stopping.

Reaching Renegade's Vigil would require crossing the stream to the south of the Hollow - what had once been Cut Rock River. Turning his paws onto the route which he knew would take him to the point which was easiest to cross, not that it was very perilous, his eyes slid over the river as he traced its shape in his mind, just an idle pasttime as he walked. Not having expected to see anything bigger than maybe a few disgruntled beavers, when his gaze fell upon a wolf stood on the riverbank with his head through the ice, it gave Tomen serious pause.

Oh, he mouthed silently, ears perking up in interest, they were just fishing. Eager for the distraction from his own wishy-washy intentions, so that he might put off the awkwardness of deciding how to properly greet a ghost, Tomen hopped towards the stranger, watching as they lifted their head back out and shook out the wet. Tomen shivered in sympathy - that must've been cold.

"Hey," he called, tail wagging as he closed the distance, "if you catch a spare, can I trade you for it?"

Catch. Spare. Trade.

Really, he was about halfway to take three of almost drowning himself when those words cut into his thoughts. His first response was complete and utter confusion. Because what was he catching? His guess was that he was going to catch a nasty cold, but why would the other boy want that? And how was he even supposed to get a spare cold for them? He was clueless, already floundering in a conversation when he had yet to talk. But at least he was going to have a good nature about it, as he believed he should have.

His tail wagged and he stood up straight, smiling at the other boy. Because the word trade - that caught his attention and had him forgetting about the rest of what they had said. He wondered if they were anything like Sahalie, where falling out of a tree had him getting food in return. If they were anything like her - he and Cottongrass were going to be fast friends. It was decided in his mind. He'd take up the boy's offer, and figure out the pesky details later.

"What will you trade?" He called back, smiling and wiggling on the spot like he had any idea of what that even meant. They probably wouldn't be too upset with him. Probably.

Oblivious to the other's confusion, Tomen interpreted any signs of it simply as surprise at being interrupted. The few times he himself had tried fishing, it had required so much concentration and finesse (and had resulted in so much failure) that he knew he'd have felt thrown off by a similar distraction. Fortunately the white wolf didn't appear too bothered by his new company, with tail up and wagging, so Tomen felt comfortable in continuing his approach.

The question was entirely predictable and yet it threw the boy for a loop, for he paused, mouth falling open as muscle-memory had begun to respond without even knowing what he was intending to say. "Uhhh, you know, I have to confess that I hadn't thought that far ahead," he said, grinning sheepishly, wanting to laugh at his own scatterbrained self. He'd have to tell @Nineva about this one, she'd enjoy it too. "What would you want?"

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the mud. Hunt Opportunity