Red Fern Forest Falter

Light Rain
37° F, 3° C
Midday 

Wind's run of luck had not been good lately. She liked to think her own ability was the most important part of her survival, that she was particularly skilled and had survived so long on her own because of all she had ever learned, but she was swiftly coming to understand there was also a certain amount of luck involved... and in her case it seemed to be poor luck, lacing her path with misfortune. Some deity out there must have hated her guts, because she couldn't seem to win lately. Prey was scarce enough in this cold already, and a wolf could not live on voles alone. But still, a vole was better than nothing, and the most recent one had escaped Kuwindwa's grasp by sheer luck: the vole darted away through the ferns and Kuwindwa found nothing but further misfortune.

Unfamiliar with these woods, Kuwindwa had been moving at hastily after her prey before the ground had given way beneath her paws. It was a sudden drop and try as she might to stop herself, the dirt, moist and loose from the damp weather, had crumbled. Kuwindwa stumbled, fell, rolled down part of the incline and then down, down, down... and now she was lying quite still, limbs akimbo, utterly disoriented, at the foot of a sheer drop. It wasn't a long drop by any means – just a few feet –  but it was enough to knock the wind from her lungs after her momentum had carried her down, and one forepaw was aching horribly. Probably sprained. She remained on her side for several seconds after her fall, only the quivering of her debris-covered sides indicating any life as she struggled to take a breath, legs twitching uncomfortably, before finally she huffed and coughed. Gasping, her eyes opened again at last as she began to lift her head from the ground. Damn it... A dizzy spell kept her from doing more than that, so she plopped her head back against the damp earth. Her pride would have been hurt if she'd had much left. As it was, she was less embarrassed and more disheartened. Shit like this couldn't keep happening if she was going to survive.

Tags: @Rowan

Winter finally seemed to be giving up on the Lore, having reduced its hold from strangle to vaguely wrapped fingers. Though still cold, the snow had melted into rain and began to wash the white coat off of the red ferns that dominated the eastern landscape. Though located just south of his family's destroyed home Rowan had usually chosen to skirt around the scarlet-hued landscape, wary of what the brightly colored ferns hid beneath their wide leaves. For the novelty of it, perhaps, he decided to cut through the otherwise typical forest - just being mindful of where he placed his paws.

Suddenly a vole burst out of a nearby fern, startling Rowan enough that he jumped like he was still a gangly-legged yearling. Just as quickly as the little rodent scurried out of his path he heard the most perplexing noise - it sounded like a deer running through the forest, its sides brushing against the branches as it ran, but far less... graceful than he remembered it sounding. Then there came the very distinctive thud that accompanied a body falling to the floor. Thoroughly perplexed by what the hell was going on in this weirdly colorful forest, he loped off in the direction of the sound. As he pushed through the ferns he felt the ground suddenly disappear from underneath his dark toes, throwing his weight backwards as soon as he realized the forest floor was disappearing. It was only luck that prevented the ink-legged male from meeting the same fate as the wolf he observed, fallen askew in the valley.

Oh shit, he thought as he realized what he was looking at. The wolf down below looked like they had definitely been hurt by the fall. "Hey," he called out as he searched the drop for a less dangerous way to get down. Rowan found a slope that wasn't quite at 90-degrees and bounded toward it. Carefully he slid down the side, dirtying his paws with mud and moving toward the she-wolf with ginger steps - he didn't want to startle her. Slowly the Attaya lowered his head and sniffed for blood that might suggest injury. "Are you alright?"

adopt thea?

Waiting for the pain to subside in her diaphragm, Kuwindwa allowed her eyes to slip closed. She should have known better than to go running full-tilt through foreign forests. She was getting stupid in her desperation. She didn't used to be this way. How long had she been like this? How long had it been since she was... normal? It felt like a lifetime ago when she lived among her people, shared in their history, worked happily in their service. She'd been strong then, hadn't she? Had she become so pathetic something like this could easily deter her spirit? Allowing herself to be consumed in self-pity, Kuwindwa decided she would rather remain where she was... she could almost justify needing the rest. She shut out the world for just a minute–

Hey– a masculine voice sounded out from above.

Kuwindwa's body jerked as her heart kicked into overdrive, her eyes snapping open as her head jolted up – alas too quickly, the world still spun for a moment.

A skittering of debris, dirt – then pawsteps.

Her head turned until her sharp muzzle was pointed in the man's direction. Once he came into proper focus, she noted how he approached cautiously, and though her heart was still ravaging her ribcage, Kuwindwa made no attempt to rise or threaten on this occassion. Her limbs twitched however, before she managed to pull them closer, habitually protecting her belly. She felt the pull on her right forepaw again as well, and she couldn't stop the wince that stretched her features. It passed into a carefully neutral expression, though one ear splayed to the side and her tongue flicked out to lick her nose nervously.

Are you all right?

The likelihood she needed to be worried was slim-to-none. The fact that she was worried was the result of too much time spent in a fragile headspace. Too much uncertainty and nothing was right.

Her voice came out breathier than she expected, still stunted from her silence and her fall, "I am... fine, thank you." Or maybe that last part was "I think," because that paw hurt, and as she tried to roll off her side she could feel where her ribs might be bruised... and she was sure she'd have the worst headache later. So maybe a more adequate response would have been I'll live.

An anxious scent rested around the wolf's pale form, pulsing into the wet air as she turned to stare at him head-on and pull her legs up toward her belly. He might have accepted this as caution on her part were it not for the expression of pain that briefly flashed across her face when she moved. Something was hurting her and preventing her from rising. That coupled with the nervous energy permeating her perimeter stilled the soot-furred Attaya. Rowan did not think of himself as the type of wolf to instill fear but he was cautious with his presence anyway. He wanted to help her, and he couldn't do that if she had any reason to doubt his intentions.

Half expectedly she deflected his concern, affirming that she was fine following her rough tumble over the ferns. Her performance was unconvincing to the male who had heard the sound of her fall. An underformed grimace set in his expression, wishing that he had trained even a little in the art of healing. Then he would've had something to offer her that was both useful and convincing enough to gain her trust. Instead, he would have to try again using just his genuine worry about the stranger wolf. "Are you sure? It sounded like a bad fall."

Rowan didn't intend to just embarrass the she-wolf. He cleared his throat and tried again. "My name's Rowan, Rowan Attaya. I was born not too far from here so I'm familiar with the area. The ferns here are tricky. You can't quite see whats under them all the time. But I know there's a stream nearby... I think sometimes a cool drink of water helps me get my bearings back." He remained still, his tail waving a low but friendly beat at the hocks of his ankles.

adopt thea?

Maybe "fine" was a strong word, but she was loathe to admit to her frailty – her blunder. The fact that he questioned- had he really heard all that? She could already feel the heat crawling over her ears. Her expression soured, but she offered no rebuttal for the ashy man, allowing him to finish without interruption. His earnest words took some of the edge out of her expression however, and she huffed a small breath, reigned in a wince, and finally started to move a little more. By the time she had pulled her paws beneath her in preparation to stand – or at least to try – something small, wry, and more smile-like than not started to appear on her milky maw.

"Kuwindwa Mapinago," she uttered the words as she began to sit upright, but paused with a soft grunt as her ribs complained... and then there was her paw to contend with. She squinted at the offending limb and hoped that wasn't swelling she could see... the last thing she needed was an injury requiring time to heal. Kuwindwa remained half-risen, her eyes slipping back toward Rowan Attaya. She seemed to search him for a time. His face didn't look unkind. What real reason did she have to doubt his intentions? "...water sounds lovely," she admitted softly, and then almost an afterthought: "Thank you, Mr Attaya. It may have sounded worse than it is," she persisted, though she knew it was a weak argument given her present state. She wanted to pretend she was fine.

Her brave face was on when she shifted to stand. Now that she was on her paws Kuwindwa could feel a knee complaining as well, but it was negligible compared to the forepaw... no, that she held gingerly, barely touching the toes to the earth. "Maybe, if you would point me in the right direction...?"

Rowan studied the female's hesitation, keeping his wandering gold gaze distant as he did. There was nothing quite as awkward as another's eyes boring into your skin when you were trying to do something delicately - at least, that was the Attaya's experience - and so he tried his best not to stare. Perhaps it was the soot-colored male's lack of pride that made him so attentive to the appearance of it, and the pains that one went to maintain it. Though he did agree with the need to maintain one's dignity, so he didn't judge her for it, even as she attempted to speak through a rather obvious pain.

"My pleasure, Kuwindwa," he replied, lowering his blackened muzzle. He felt her eyes searching him as he lifting his chin back up, similar to how he'd studied her before. One grey ear flicked with impatience, though he stifled the display of it anywhere else. Some wolves were born for the spotlight - Rowan was not. The she-wolf's scrutiny made the skin beneath his fur warm, but the long seconds eventually passed and she let her steely resolve soften just enough to agree to water, and thank him.

A thin grin stretched across his face, eyebrows slightly raising at her formality. "Please, Mr. Attaya was my father," he quipped with a rumbling chuckle, repurposing an old joke he had heard once before. Though he was unsure about being called Mister anything, and so he added more casually, "Rowan's just fine." Unlike his company, he did not care to pretend that he was anything but what he was: a rogue with no titles, nothing more. At least not yet. Though truth be told he hadn't considered what would come of his life here in the Lore after he found the one he sought. But it was a complicated matter that he didn't need to tangle his thoughts in right now.

Kuwindwa made a final push to stand on her own, managing to do so without voicing any pain. His eyes flickered briefly toward the forepaw she held tensed, noticing the minuscule amount of space she had left between the cold earth and her claws. At that moment he cared less about helping her save face and more about making sure that she didn't injure herself further by trying to walk on unhealed wounds. Flicking his tail, Rowan took a few steps to tighten the space between them. "I'll walk with you - I could use a drink myself." He offered, positioning his tall form beside her so that she might lean on him and move easier with her tender forepaw out of play. He adopted a pace both leisurely and glacial as they moved across the ferns, passing the time with small talk that held an undertone of genuine curiosity. "Where are you from - someplace around these parts?"

adopt thea?

There is a family of deer nearby. Hunt Opportunity

A small attempt at humor on Rowan's part drew a tight smile across her lips, and a short nod. Inwardly she berated herself. He didn't outrank her. The formality was unnecessary. But old ways died hard for the warrior, even out here with only herself for company. A new land, new customs, new smells... she didn't like it. She wanted sameness and routine. She wanted home. She longed for the forests she knew so completely mistakes like this never happened. Not like here. Not like now.

Kuwindwa would rather nurse her injuries (and pride) alone. She hurt, but she wasn't going to die as far as she could tell, at least not right away. She could not bring herself to deny Rowan's kindness however independent and stately she tried to appear. "I'm- ...thank you." Kuwindwa's protest faltered. She could barely press any weight down onto that paw right now – she was in no position to argue. It may not have shown, but Kuwindwa appreciated his conscientiousness, and though her skin crawled uncomfortably when he drew nearer (she couldn't remember the last time she had been close enough to touch one of her own kind), she did allow her guard to lower enough to lean against Rowan.

It was weird.

Not that she felt "something" or "anything" just... to be in prolonged contact with someone after being without for so long. It didn't matter who it was. 

Her gold-flecked eyes flickered to the man beside her. A fair question. "No. No where nearby. I'm... a bit of a wanderer," she answered, her eyes looking straight ahead as she spoke and allowed him to guide her. She did not enjoy small talk right now any more than she enjoyed hobbling along on three legs. She used to be... better at it. Used to not mind it. Now she was reduced to deflecting questions as politely as she could, "What about you? You said-" she paused as she misstepped and continued after a soft hiss, "You said you were born around here. Does your family live here still?" Well. She tried at least. She cast another glance at the younger wolf. She should probably be more grateful than she felt.

The she-wolf's protest was not unexpected, though her quick deference to accepting his help was a pleasant surprise. Even as she allowed herself to lean against him her discomfort permeated the air as densely as the cold did, but he didn't take it personally. In fact, he suspected something dark was currently infesting her mind, the way that she was slow to respond and quick to turn quiet. Her manner of speaking made it seem to the dark male that this anxiety was not an ingrained part of her personality, but Rowan kept quiet these inferences for now, focused only on maintaining short strides so that she did not have to heave her weight upon him if it made her uncomfortable.

His dark muzzle tipped in a nod as she called herself a wanderer. There were no scents of claim in her ashen fur to suggest otherwise. Or at least, none that he could scope out. She would find the same lack of claim within his sooty coat as well. They were two wolves completely alone - he was reminded of this when she questioned whether his family was still around, to which he answered with an unconvincing smile. "No, they are no longer here," Rowan said simply, his tarnished gold gaze searching the red ferns around him as he released a breath. "I have spent a long time chasing after them, but I believe that's coming to an end now." He would not bore her with the details of their removal - as the details were actually beginning to bore Rowan himself. He was head above black waters now, and he could not look back.

The sound of soft trickling water provided him a distraction from the short remainder of their silent journey. A few steps before the bank of the creek Rowan came to a halt, letting the she-wolf continue toward the partially frozen waters on her own to further that he was here to help, not babysit. Rowan stepped away as well and aligned his dark toes parallel to the stream and lowered his head, lapping at the thinnest part of ice to access the liquid below.

After he'd drank as much icy water as his stomach could handle, he lifted his maw and cast a sidelong glance at the she-wolf. Pale pink tongue ran across his maw, wiping away a few stray drops of water. "And you, Kuwindwa? Are you chasing, or are you running?"

adopt thea?

The smile didn't quite reach his eyes when he answered Kuwindwa's query and, maybe, just for a moment, she regretted it. She offered no words of understanding. No oh-I-sees or I'm-sorrys, but her expression was not unkind when she listened. Turning her eyes forward, she continued in that manner until they reached a softly burbling stream. She paused when Rowan did, heaved a soft sigh of relief, then stepped carefully forward on her own and, though she had to move delicately on three legs rather than four, she did not stumble. The cold smacked her shoulder where she'd leaned against Rowan, and that awareness of her months of isolation came briefly to the forefront of her mind before it was smothered.

This was not the time or place. She was aching and there was soothing water. She crouched carefully, too aware of her ribs and how she seemed to wobble as she used her good paw to balance her weight as evenly as she could. The first gulp was icy, and the chill kept her from drinking too quickly. She finished shortly after the dark gentleman, kneeling beside the frigid water a little longer than she needed to. What could she say? "Uh-huh, the big bad wolf is on the run"? The big bad wolf was framed for murder? Yeah, that would go over well. But it wasn't like she had to explain herself to the man who'd just helped her out, right? Right?

"Running," she murmured finally. The drawn-out silence that followed was broken only by the soft grunt as she managed to rise. Satisfied that she would neither fall over or face a wave of vertigo, she turned to face Rowan directly. "I do not know where, or how far. There was a misunderstanding," a wry smile painted itself on her muzzle before slipping away like it came, "And I was in no place to-" to fight back, defend myself, breathe life into the dead "-well, make them understand." Then there were the less literal things she ran from: failure, sadness. Her eyes fell to her forepaw as she tested it. She could put a little more weight than before, but not much. Still, some improvement was better than none. "I wish I could see the end of it."