Secluded Spring Hamamelidaceae

((For @Latif when you get the time, but as usual anyone else welcome! ))


Comfortable as Witch was in the territory of White Fir Notch, she found her dainty paws wandering the very outskirts of their lands, just past the borders and both within calling range and scenting of her newfound family and far enough that loners would approach her, too -- because why not live on the edge, walk on the wild side? There were various things that could come from such audacity: she could be met with hostility, an enemy, and could call to her packmates as backup. She could be met with a new friend, love, or family member. Said friend could join the pack, could share knowledge, or could even help her hunt in the cold Winter months. Many, many opportunities, and the budding priestess was nothing if not opportunistic. For now, she had neglected to mention Mona or her religion in any way, and would continue to do so until guided by the goddess or whenever she felt she was ready to forge her own path -- if that day ever came. Hell, she wouldn't mind living life here as a devoted follower if it meant a family, but what if she could have both the love of the wolves and her own church somewhere? That required many things Witchhazel had yet to attain, like followers to fill her ranks and bow to Her will, a mate to walk the line of leadership with her, or even a land to bring those mentioned together for the cause. For now, she was content to be part of the White Fir Notch family, but there was no harm in learning of others along the way. 

Gliding gracefully through a thankfully low patch of snow, the rust-encrusted femme cupped her ears forward at the sharp crack of a stick, bicolored eyes raking the area around her as her head swung in each direction, body held tense and high as she called out a soft greeting to what very well have been nothing. Was it a bird, or another creature scampering across the earth? Was it simply the weight of snow on a smaller branch? 

                       "Hello?"

He had been this way before, he was sure of it. Had it been on his first trip around the mountain? Maybe he had rested here for a bit. He couldn't really remember. He had been able to find some food, leftovers from someone who hadn't been able to take it all with them. Yet, one meal couldn't help replace all of the ones that he hadn't been able to get. His showing ribs and scrawny frame where proof of that. It was so frustrating, Latif decided. He didn't know what he was doing wrong in his attempts at hunting. His previous tactics had even been successful and now they were failing him at every turn. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Maybe he should attempt to go back home and recover his strength. The thought was bitter in his mouth. He didn't want to return in the sorry state that he was in plus he knew that more snow was going to come and if he couldn't get anything to eat...

He didn't want to think about it.

Latif finally realized that he had been walking without actually paying attention when he felt the bite of a stick against his paw and the sudden crack as it snapped. Wincing in pain he backed up to view the damage to his pawpad. A pinch piece of skin nothing more, nothing less. At least he wasn't bleeding that would've been a bit worse. Latif didn't have any knowledge of medicine but he did know that leaving a trail of blood was not advisable especially in winter.

Hello?

Latif's head shot up when he heard the sweetened voice. He wasn't alone? It was a surprising thought but then he knew that there were some packs up here. Hadn't Mr. Grumpy been helping to start one? Latif realized that he should probably say something and announce his presence to the stranger he couldn't see yet but he held out. Carefully he tried to pinpoint where the voice had come from and with tail and head low he walked until they could see each other and found his eyes widening. She was a unique mixture of colors that he hadn't seen on a wolf before so he couldn't help but stare. He also couldn't help but admire the way she wore them.

It was just me. He finally responded letting his head dip further to the ground. How long had stared? He hoped it hadn't been long.

Turns out, it was no scurrying creature and not nature's course, but a man -- Witch's gleaming bicolored eyes caught his bony frame easily despite its pale likeness to the snow, and they stared each other down in a way that was neither hostile or friendly for a long moment of time. Each appreciated the other, and her tensed build began to ease at once as his words caught her cupped ears -- they, too, were neither hostile nor friendly, and Witchhazel decided then that she would attempt to push that line and give a warm smile. Her dainty paws pulled her forward a pace or two, but she stopped and called out an introduction that was accompanied with a wagging tail and a beaming grin. 

                              "I'm Witchhazel." 

Of course now that she was close enough to see what a dire state he was in, her undefined brows rose and her eyes widened. Thoughts flitting to her private cache back at home that he might need, the priestess-in-training wondered if Gent would allow such a creature into their ranks in the wake of Winter: the pack seemed to be doing okay, and the dark brute seemed a benevolent beast, but would he risk a starved man in his camp and not bring disease or waste resources by dying? Some alphas she knew, like one of her coastal homes allies, wouldn't take such a wolf -- in fact, they'd aim to kill him on the spot. Gent didn't seem like the leviathan of her home, but every soul had a dark side. 

                                                                            "Are you okay? I might be able to help you, if you want to try and join my pack. Y'don't look so healthy."

It looked like she had decided that he wasn't a threat. Which was a good thing to since he doubted that he would be able to fend her off if she had decided to attack. She suddenly smiled and Latif blinked in surprise. She carried herself closer to him while she introduced herself as Witchhazel. It wasn't a common name that was for sure but it wasn't one that was easily forgotten either.

My name's Latif and I apologize if I startled you. He responded letting a hesitant smile cross his face. Maybe she would be able to help him. Her expression changed then and Latif could feel her wide eyes going over his thin frame. The urge to run was there. He probably disgusted her. What wolf let himself get in this shape? Embarrassment and shame forced him to take a step back.

Are you okay? I might be able to help you, if you want to try and join my pack. Y'don't look so healthy.

No he wasn't okay, but he wasn't going to admit that. He was starving and the thought of eating a meal made his mouth water but he didn't want to go with her. It was a chance that likely wouldn't come again yet he didn't want to get more of the same looks. Looks that made him want to go under a rock and let Winter finish what it had started to him. No he wasn't going to join her pack. Thank you for the offer but no thanks. He responded simply trying his hardest to simply not turn tail and leave. The abrupt idea that she might take offense at his words made his body lower until his stomach rested on the ground, ears flattened against his skull.

Sakari’s eyes and nose glided over the snow, tracking the strange man’s fresh paw prints. One paw print of every four was darkened with blood, and even a wolf much dumber than Sakari would see an opportunity to take advantage. Perhaps the man had been injured hunting, and he carried his prize along as he limped back to his den. The dark opportunist ran her tongue over her canines, salivating at the thought of a meal she didn’t have to hunt down herself. Robbing an injured man of his kill would be like taking candy from a baby.  

Alternatively, perhaps he had no meal with him, but belonged to the local pack. She would certainly be rewarded if she helped an injured pack wolf home.  He didn’t have the sharp, pine-needle scent that seemed characteristic of the pack wolves around here, but that meant little. Every now and then when Sakari settled in with a pack, she rarely smelled of it, seeing as she spent so much time wandering beyond the borders of her supposed home.

Golden eyes settled on a creamy silhouette trudging along up ahead, and she wove her way into the shadows of the fir tree forest. As she crept closer, she heard a female voice address her target, causing the spy to freeze in her tracks.  The male was likely too distracted by his injuries to notice her, but it would only take a few more moments for the female to detect the lone watcher’s scent.  

The woman, who introduced herself as Witchazel (a dark, foreboding name if Sakari ever heard one), most certainly belonged to the nearby pack. The crisp, piney scent rolled off of her in waves. Lucky day for Mister Waif, Sakari thought as she heard the woman’s offer to him. There was nothing for Sakari here. As soon as she could manage it without being noticed, she would shrink back into the shadows and be on her way.

The girl’s ears flew to attention when the waif—Latiff he called himself—turned the packwolf down. Now what on earth would make him do that? Surely not just an over-inflated sense of pride..? The only logical explanation was that he was headed toward something better, and Sakari had to know what it was.  “So you’re going to let your pride kill you, then?” her voice rang out from the shadows.  Men could be idiots about their egos sometimes, but not often to this extent. “You should take her offer,” Sakari advised, “And consider yourself lucky she didn’t kill you on the spot.” She stepped forward far enough to reveal her face, but kept the rest of her body hidden in the shadows.

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

The cream-pelted man introduced himself as Latif, apologizing for having startled her -- Witch shook her rust crown with the smile still in place. To the soft-hearted woman, there was nothing to forgive: he hadn't harmed her or caused her any strife.
 
                                           "No harm, no fowl."

The poor creature looked defeated: his ribs poked out from his pale coat, and Witch couldn't help a soft whine as she inched another few steps closer. Hopefully, he would let him help -- without her, there was every chance in the world he would not survive the harsh Winter months. Each night he survived on his own added more risk. 

Even after she'd spoken her offer, her ears perked -- her bicolored eyes flickered from Latif to the undergrowth behind him in confusion, even sweeping unseeing over the hidden woman once. Did the man have a friend? Was there danger? If he wasn't alone, why was he in such a bad state? Sniffling softly, she could certainly tell someone was close -- one female, but that was the limit to her knowledge -- but had no way of telling if she was with Latif. 

It was then that he rejected her offer, however, and Witch abandoned the scent to turn sad eyes on the starving man -- surely he knew this would mean death? Stunned into silence, thinking of a way to persuade Latif, her ears flattened in surprise at the voice that washed over them. There was someone here! A growl of warning sounded from her chest, and instinctively she attempted to close the distance between herself and the injured man to protect him, hackles rising. As Sakari finally let her face slid from the shadows, Witchhazel set her apple and sky eyes on the woman to listen -- as she was politely taught to do -- but didn't at once trust her as she had Latif. Hiding in the shadows, lurking around -- even if the stranger spoke sense, Witch was not inclined to be as friendly to someone spying. 

                                                                                                                       "She's right, y'know, but I won't force you into anything. I can just as well treat you out here, if you weren't interested in a pack, but as a healer I can tell you that each day you spend alone will bring you closer to death without the protection of a pack. Can you hunt?"

Her final question was drawn from suddenly seeing the lone deer -- young, but with enough food to give the starving man a decent meal, if she could find another to hunt it with. Even Witch didn't dare take on a young deer by herself, and her eyes went from it to sweep around the two others, clearly asking them to help if they could so all could feast.  

At first Latif was confused when Witch looked past him to the bushes that lay behind. His confusion didn't last long though when he heard them moving and an unknown voice filled the air. Had he been followed? For what purpose? He didn't know the answers to the questions that moved through his head but what he did know was that there was a strange wolf at his back and he didn't like it. So he moved forward a step while turning so that he could keep Witch and the stranger in sight. He might have thought that this wolf was Witch's companion but her growl had made it very clear that they didn't know each other.

In all honesty Latif wanted to growl as well but he was very aware that if he got into it with a healthier wolf that he would die. So he kept his own rumble of displeasure hidden. He held his tongue as well. What was the point in speaking to the stranger? It seemed like she was more or less trying to get into an argument that he didn't want to get into. It didn't take much though for the situation to calm down as Witch spoke again agreeing with what the newcomer had said and adding her own twist to it as well.

He might be starved but he wasn't completely stupid. It was an offer that could help change his fate but with looks that made him want to run at every turn? How long would he be able to stand it? Long enough to get healthy again or would it only last long enough for him to rest a few nights? No matter what they thought of him he wasn't going to join and that was that.

I am aware of my situation but that doesn't change my answer. Latif responded resolutely. I can hunt just barely at this point. He added a bit confused at her question. If he was a good hunter then why was he in the state that he was? His mouth formed a small o as he once again noticed that her eyes were else where and what the source of the question was. All the same he doubted he would be much help.

Sakari’s eyes lit up with curiosity when the fire-kissed woman growled and placed herself in front of the dying man.  How interesting; after only just meeting the man, not to mention being turned down for a very generous offer, she was willing to protect the pitiful creature who clearly had little interest in protecting himself.  Sakari move further from the shadows, letting her tail swing comfortably behind her.  Hopefully her nonthreatening stance would put Witchhazel more at ease.
 
Sakari quietly scoffed at the notion that Latiff would even possibly be able to assist in hunting the fawn. “He can barely stand,” she pointed out the woman incredulously.. how could a self-proclaimed healer even think of letting a man in Latiff’s condition hunt? “I’ll help you catch the deer, and he can sit here and try not to die before we return.”  Without another word, she turned and stalked after the fawn, refusing to allow anyone the chance to argue with her. 
 
As the dark huntress neared their target, an ear swiveled backward to detect whether Witchhazel was catching up. Strangers they may have been, and trust each other they may not, but they would need to agree on some sort of strategy if they were going to be successful. Hunting strategy was not the young girl’s strong suit; she would wait for Witchhazel to supply the plan. "Sorry," she would whisper to the other woman when she got the chance, feeling the need to somehow explain her bitchy attitude. "Dunno why he pissed me off so much. Guess I just can't stand.." ..such blatant, pronounced idiocy? "..men like that." 

In truth, the question never had been for Latif -- he was too weak to be of help to them and, in reality, he would only get himself killed -- but merely a pleasantry. The bicolored gaze of Witch swept strongly to Sakari as she gave her input; Witch didn't like the tone she took, but the peace-loving creature didn't react in more than a pointed look that was meant to quell the woman. 

                         "We can take it down to share between the three of us. Stay here and keep a watch."

As the dark pelted stranger stalked off, Witch added to Latif to stay and, hurriedly, trotted for her new hunting companion. Some part of her wanted to ask if she needed a pack for the Winter, but after such a swift rejection the pale femme was hesitant to ask again. 

Witchhazel was surprised to see Sakari not just waiting for her ahead, but that she turned for a soft apology -- one that Witch, of course, was willing and ready to accept with a chuckle. 

                                                                   "No harm, no foul -- If he wants to die out here, so be it, but Ill at least get a decent meal in him before I go. Let's separate and surround -- cut off any escape."

Some part of her wanted to say they should eat before him, in case there was sickness, but for now didn't voice it. Instead, she took the silent hint to lead and, nodding to the right of the young deer while her paler frame took the left.