Secret Falls at the bottom you'll find all my friends

Saw the opportunity and ran with it :B Subterritory Discovery for @Aleksei
The Drowned Den (image)
Nearby the rapids leading to Secret Falls stands a tall tree teetering on a sudden depression in the ground. The dirt here is softly shaped and quite loose, moved swiftly by a flash flood now long in the past. The waters dragged away a large amount of dirt underneath the wide-spread tangle of roots, resulting in a spacious, uneven, and typically damp den that smells quite musty when it rains. A tall rise of land on either side of the depression gives wolves a sense of privacy, or perhaps a sense of loneliness.
(61.22796, 123.75)

He was beginning to think there was something wrong with the Attayas. The way they always seemed to come and go, drowned ghosts that hung around but were never were there when you needed them, gone with the next big wave. Maybe it was something that happened to them when the flood took Darkwater Rapids. Come and go, ebb and flow, they were all just black water wolves slipping through the fingers of permanence.

That was how Rowan decided to explain the reason he ended up here again. Secret Falls. Home of the home that wasn't their home anymore. It was morbidly fascinating the way his body remembered where it was, like his brain wasn't in control of the signal it sent to his paws to lead him here. The dust-coated wolf loathed his every movement as he neared the pack lands, unable to fathom why he was so inclined to return to the site of the greatest tragedy he'd ever know... but there was no stopping his trajectory, so he didn't question it.

He couldn't remember where the 'official' borders had been, but he knew when he was within their long gone bounds. He kept walking until he approached the den where the original brood of four had been brought into the world. The hollow in the ground beneath the tree's wide roots that had given Ava shelter as they were born had become misshapen and all the grass was missing, but when he looked with his heart he saw it as it was all those years ago. His nose twitched as he imagined the scent - the blood of birth, the sweet air of May, the scent of the original Attaya pair, Kade and Ava, when they had been thick as thieves. When he inhaled deeply, all he could find was the damp scent of cold mud.

Tainted as it was, some familiar feeling drew him in. Ducking his head, the male crawled into the space. He dropped to his belly, tucking his legs beneath his body and laying his head on the ground. With a long sigh Rowan shut his tarnished gold eyes and tried to convince himself to leave. He was here searching for his own daughter and he still managed to find the time to live in his own miserable past. But... he hadn't seen a hair of his daughter since he came back to the Lore, no sign that she was even here at all, and so for one day only he allowed himself the opportunity to grieve a permanent grief.

Aleksei had originally set out to track elk passing through Kingsfall. He had decided it would be good to know their routes, to know when they would travel back to the tundra, because May was not far from arriving in the Lore, and there would be newborn calves wobbling around, vulnerable and ripe for the picking. With the possibility of more pups than they could handle—theirs was a small gathering of wolves, after all—it wouldn't be a bad shout for Hearthwood River to be prepared ahead of time.

After more than a day's worth of walking, and having lost time thanks to his sleeping, Aleksei was further from home than he intended to be, chasing some foreign river's current before it opened up into a roaring serpent. He was awestruck, dazzled even; the water of Kingsfall never ran this vicious, nor did Cut Rock's. It was powerful, judging from the way it audibly slapped waves against its rocky walls, and ran a deep, inky blue—definitely not the kind of place you'd want to take a casual dip.

It reminded him of a name he had heard, long ago. It was nestled on the tip of his tongue, refusing to budge. Blackwater? No, no, that wasn't it. Perhaps Darkwater? That sounded right. Darkwater, Darkwater …

“Darkwater Rapids,” he thought aloud, unaware of the presence of someone who knew that name far better than he did; someone who had lived here. Yes, he remembered. Somewhat. His father had told him of this place a few times, and the way Maksim described it had always captivated Aleksei, caused his eyes to widened and his breath to catch in his lungs. Roaring, spitting water, carving through rock and dirt, snaking through the forest with unstoppable force. Nature could be scary.

He pressed on, curious to poke around a little more. Wolves lived here once—his own father included—but were chased off by a flood. The river that had sustained them for so long had grown tired of being seen, wanted to return to obscurity, and swelled with the rain to wash the Darkwater residents away. His father had led much of the pack to safety. His father, from the misery of disaster, brought great joy in the form of Cut Rock River.

Maksim Baranski had always been fond of water, and so it seemed his son was too.

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Within the drowned den it was quiet, still. Fatigue was easy to ignore when the wolf was always on the move. But now that he allowed himself to lay he really felt the tiredness that seemed to radiate all the way from his bones. He closed his eyes, letting rest control him for once, while the rest of the world turned to white noise. Until...

He heard a voice - male, youthful, distant, and anonymous - speak the name of his birth pack out loud. At once half the cogs in his head came to a complete halt and the other half went spinning in to over drive. Tarnished gold eyes opened wide. "What the fuck," he thought accidentally out loud and thrust himself to his four, emerging from the musty den - with haste, believing that whoever had said it would be gone before he could catch them. He didn't so much as shake his coat as he stalked into the open, head turning and body spinning to locate the sound.

But he wasn't gone - he was still standing there. By the raging rapids, inspecting the gurgling waters. The Attaya would have sworn it was a ghost of some kind, if it wasn't for the smell that he carried with him. It wasn't Darkwater Rapids - it was something else, too real to be a figment of Rowan's imagination. So if this was a real wolf, probably the first one to grace the old territory with their presence in a long while, who was he and why was he here?

The dust-coated male stalked forward, making no effort to conceal himself as he drew closer. The wolf was incredibly tall like Rowan but significantly larger in mass. Probably genetic, though the pack smell didn't hurt either. Regardless, he set his rusted gaze on the pale green eyes of the agouti wolf's before him, trying to hold the accusation out of his tone as he raised his voice to be heard over the rapids, "What'd you say?" His mind had played enough tricks on him that he didn't rule out the voice had only been in his head and he just attributed it to this stranger who happened to be in the right place at the right time - or wrong place at the wrong time... depending on the answer that Rowan waited expectantly upon.

adopt thea?

gosh, this is poop and small. sorry ;-;

Oblivious to the presence of another, Aleksei took a moment to be a bit bold—or simply stupid—and craned his neck so that he could really look into the dark rapids, feeling droplets that leaped for the sky speckle his cheeks and muzzle. God, he couldn't even see the bottom! It could go on for miles beneath the surface, and that thought alone was enough to make him reel his neck in and take a step back with a nervous, quiet chuckle. “Jeez.” Sure, he loved water, but he also respected the dangers it brought when it was deep and unpredictable.

So caught up in inspecting the river (now at a safer distance because fuck falling into that), it came as a great surprise when a wolf's voice rose above the rapids to question him. Aleksei immediately whirled around, caught off guard, and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled instinctively. It was his natural response, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Askan had given a brief description of the wolf that had attacked Percy—dark, and a loner—and here was a wolf with black fur, one who appeared from nowhere, lacking any pack scent, in a sheltered, hidden place like this. First impressions were tense, to say the least.

He remained quiet for a moment, brows furrowed, before speaking up in response to the question. “Darkwater Rapids,” he repeated, no longer a mumble on his lips. “Why? What does it matter to you?” Aleksei's muscles were tense beneath his fur; it was his back against the churning waters, and that hardly made him feel safe. Falling into that strong a current would most likely spell a wolf's demise, and the Hearthwood male wasn't keen on being its most recent victim.

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Rowan wasn't surprised when the wolf turned on him with his hackles rising, caught off guard against the roar of the rapids. The Attaya did his best not to mimic the wolf's stance in efforts to de-escalate the situation, until he spoke again. Not only did he repeat the name of the washed-away pack, but he questioned Rowan instead. A scowl manifested across his black-masked face. What does it matter to you? What - what did it matter to him? To Rowan Attaya, of the Attayas of Darkwater Rapids? Now he couldn't exactly fault the wolf for not knowing who he was. That wasn't even the part about his commentary that confused the dark wolf so much. He had a short list in his mind of all the wolves who knew of Darkwater Rapids and no where on that list did he find this bristling wolf.

It would be unwise to allow this wolf to meander off before he got any answers, so Rowan forced his suddenly-sprung defensive hackles to stand down. "Matters more to me than anyone else," he asserted with a snort. Pink tongue flicked across his muzzle, wiping up errant droplets of water that sprayed up toward his face from the rapids angry whirl. Though, he noted, the stranger's rump was doing a great job to make sure Rowan stayed high and dry for the most part. While he didn't welcome the spray of water (bad memories) he remained still on inky straight legs, neither moving toward nor away from the subject of his platitudinous interrogation.  

"I'm Rowan Attaya, heir to this dump," he clarified, a note of sarcasm providing the backbone to the word heir. For one thing, he didn't exactly want to claim someplace so lethal in the name of his family. For another, that was Mace's stupid right, if he ever came back and happened to disregard the danger. Wouldn't surprise him though. Attayas were always repeating their mistakes. Or maybe that was just him. His tarnished gold gaze, which had begun to wander toward the ground in his internal processings, flickered back toward the other wolf's gaze. "Who are you? How do you know of this place?"

adopt thea?

There is a rabbit's nest nearby. +1 Health

Aleksei tried to force his hackles down, he really did, but he found himself unable to do so. There were a lot of contributing factors to the prickly atmosphere, and they were mostly questions. Like, what kind of jackass startled someone currently staring into potentially bottomless hell water? And what the hell did “matters more to me than anyone else” mean? Perhaps the most important by far was the question who the hell is this guy?

Wouldn't take long for Aleksei to get the answer he wanted more than any other, and he could only tilt his head in response, jaw hanging slightly slack and his brows knitted. “What?” He might have looked a bit simple, but the cogs in his head were whirring. An heir to Darkwater Rapids? That didn't make a lick of sense, and the way this Rowan said the word made it seem like he was unhappy about it. I mean, sure, this place smelt like wet mud and it was kind of lonely, but it was an impressive sight, and part of his family's history—did it really deserve to be called a dump? He couldn't claim to know much, if anything, about the pack his father had been a part of because Maksim only brought it up a handful of times (Aleksei chalked it up to a melancholic brand of nostalgia), but it hadn't ever seemed like there were bad memories here.

Just, you know, the simple things you couldn't prevent. Like life threatening freak weather!

Eyes trained on each other, Aleksei couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable with the meeting. What were the chances he'd run into an Attaya? “Right,” he said finally, clearing his throat and shaking the rather gormless expression from his face. “Okay. I'm Aleksei Baranski. My father told me about this place.” Would Rowan recognise that name? Would it mean anything? Maksim had brought up the name Attaya a few times to Aleksei before, and he had a few foggy memories of wolves in Cut Rock River with that name, but he had been much younger back then, and it was a struggle to remember the specific names.

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Something clicked when Rowan introduced himself, the wolf's brow furrowing and features going slack as recognition worked its way through his memory. The Attaya male could only chuckle a single note when the other wolf produced a What? in response. Suppose he did need to hang his disbelief to accept that Rowan was who he said he was, creepily lounging around the place where he almost died as a kid. Then he said - Baranski - father - and Rowan's features instantly went soft. Of course it was the only sensible explanation to this wolf knowing anything about Darkwater Rapids. He was Maksim's son.

Rowan scrutinized him with a subtle curiosity. Aleksei was not Rowan's age - no way he could be, unless Maksim had a secret litter nobody knew about. He entertained that idea with a slightly narrowed gaze for no more than a second before tossing it out his mind's metaphorical window. Naaah. Maksim, disregard the rules of Darkwater Rapids? Not like him. But Aleksei wasn't much younger than Rowan either - which would put him in the first litter to Cut Rock River. Heir himself, to wherever they'd up and moved the pack to. "First born prince, huh?" he concluded with a smirk.

So Maksim's son was on the other side of the mountains, smelling like a pack wolf. The last time Rowan had seen Maksim (ages ago, now) he had been leading Cut Rock River. Then Rook told him the Baranski male had left the Cedarwood to establish a home somewhere away from their problems. Guilt was beginning to pool in his stomach in an uncomfortable way. When Rowan had left the Cedarwood last time, it was to seek out the Baranski king and repair the good relationships Rook had damaged. Rowan knew with painful clarity that he had not only failed the mission - he had given up. There was an opportunity here to perhaps make something right again. Aleksei was key.

With the dots connected in his mind, he felt safer divulging the information from his tender memories to Aleksei. "I knew your father, Maksim, quite well when he lived with us here. He was the Guardian of Darkwater Rapids, second to my parents. Even stepped up when my father fell weak. And when the flood came here and nearly killed us all," he motioned around the territory, eyes scanning over the soft features of the terrain left over from the swell of water, "He was the one who saved the pack and took them to safety. To Cut Rock River." Rowan paused, not sure if this was old news to Maksim's son. He had heard stories from Kade and Ava about their pasts, and learned more from Elettra and Jaysyek. But the bulk of their lives were a mystery to the Attaya, stories forever lost.

adopt thea?

The sudden switch in the Attaya's face caused Aleksei to visibly relax—it seemed that Rowan recognised the name of his parent's former friend and guardian. It was an incredible coincidence that the two should meet here, and the Baranski found it a little unsettling now that he really thought about it. Meetings such as this were unexplained, and uncomfortably mysterious, but perhaps that was putting too much stock in the concept of fate—more than it deserved, any way. Aleksei had never been a big believer in such a thing (the idea of every wolf having a path they would follow in life was bonkers), and after learning what had happened to Karina in his absence … well, he decided it would be best that he only believe in himself, and the tangible reality around him.

Still, it was a little concerning—or just confusing—that Rowan was able to immediately peg Aleksei as the first born heir to the Baranski's river territory. He could have been the second born son for all the Attaya knew. “Yeah,” he confirmed, regardless, “that's right. Good guess.”

He struggled to hold back a frown as the older wolf spoke of his history with Maksim, how he had known him, how his family had known him, and could only nod. Aleksei felt his mouth grow dry, and he cleared his throat in the hope that maybe he'd be able to get some saliva to wet his tongue instead of croaking out a reply. Thankfully, he got his way. “And then to Hearthwood River after that. He told me once or twice about Darkwater Rapids—he'd never get into too much detail, though. I think it made him sad, to think about you and your family.” Opting to remain silent for the moment about his father's passing (there wasn't any need to bring it up, not unless Rowan asked after the male), the Baranski conjured up a weak smile, unsure of what else he could say. He decided that he'd best change he subject, save them from an uncomfortable discussion. “What brings you back to your birthplace?”

Let the roots & soil drink of me
Whispering leaves & pointing branches will tell them where I'm lying

Good guess. Rowan half-assed a smirk. Well, he did seem to be gifted in that area. Perhaps that was how him and his sisters had all ended up among the willows. He'd like to say that was how they all ended up in the cedars as well, except he knew that was a lie - the only reason Rowan dragged himself there was in search of the wolf who had fathered his current conversational counterpart. The Attayas had plenty in the world to thank the Baranskis for, and after all the time that had passed he still did intend to do that.

Something moved across Aleksei's expression as he listened to Rowan's brief history, a feeling which the soot-colored male couldn't quite figure out. Perhaps he was just digesting the information. It was incredibly weird that they would both end up here in the same place at the same time. Had Rowan been a big believer in destiny he might have taken it as a sign, knelt and sworn loyalty to the Baranski prince - a reversal of the original duo which had brought them to the point in their lives that they were at now. But like Aleksei, Rowan didn't believe in any of that shit.

Dark ears perked forward as the name of the successor to Cut Rock River was finally revealed to the male: Hearthwood River. The irony of Maksim continuing to settle down beside running water in spite of the flood was not exactly lost on the Attaya, though he didn't blame Maksim for it. They needed to be near water to survive. It was just that, if it were up to the Attaya prince, he would probably settle down near Very Calm Waters Lake or something similar.

Ever so politely the Baranski wolf queried his reappearance in his birthplace, a question which reignited the small flame of guilt he carried around with him. "I've been going north looking for my daughter, for some time now. I thought I would stop and rest here because I knew where it was." And that it was uninhabited. "She's black of fur, only a yearling. Didn't pick up the giant genes from me. Her name's Iyes." Rowan didn't ask him to do anything directly - he wouldn't put the burden of looking out for her on Aleksei. Perhaps there was a little bit of an implication, but that wasn't what he really wanted from the stocky wolf.

Rowan snatched away Aleksei's attempt to avoid an unsavory subject in one unintentional swoop. "I'd like to speak with Maksim - I have a message for your father," he said, relaying words that he was meant to say more than a year and a half ago. "Where could I find Hearthwood River?"

adopt thea?