Stonewatch Timbers Should I Tear My Heart Out Now?

Set along the eastern reaches of Stonewatch Timbers.

The world looked different when it wasn't covered in snow. And he knew that was a well established fact. One that he witnessed firsthand when he was nothing more than a puppy experiencing his first winter and the subsequent spring. But he felt like something about those memories were a gross understatement. Like they all paled in comparison to the startling reality of present day.

Because he knew Stonewatch Timbers like the back of his paw. And even if he couldn't admit that he knew the forested highlands by name, he could say he knew it by heart. How could he not?

He used to call the place home.

There was probably a den that was now decrepit but once well loved hidden somewhere among the trees and rounded peaks.

He was tempted to find it. Because as far as he knew—nostalgia never hurt anybody. He didn't have his own personal den back in Wild Rye Fields. There was only the main den and the forest that made up the territory's southernmost edges. And maybe on some days he could include the den Askan and Reyes had made. But otherwise? He slept in the open. Impulse told him to bow down and search for what used to be his only meager possession. He felt compelled to follow his brain's rushed demands. But even as he gazed into the surrounding woods he realized that he didn't recognize anything.

As the last time he was around it was during the middle of winter. Snow and ice had blanketed the ground and slopes. Frost had clung to bare and frozen branches. There was nothing like that now covering the land. Instead withering leaves littered the ground while many still clung to the stretching branches overhead. The forest floor beneath his paws was cold and damp. Everything smelled foreign and indistinct.

There was no Victoria or Tumblebelly forever hiding just out of sight.

Somewhere below his paws stumbled to a halt and his tail hung limp between his back legs. He wondered if this was a mistake. It was starting to feel like one. Maybe he should have stayed away. There was nothing important waiting for him among the densely packed trees and seemingly endless peaks. But his paws had a mind of their own.

He remained rooted on the spot even as the sun started to set somewhere beyond the canopy hanging overhead. Something in the branches above rustled. An owl took off in almost silent flight. He was too caught up in his own mind to notice.

Thanks for starting! <3

Somehow, by some miracle, Rayza had escaped the massive mistake that was the all-consuming forest he'd mostly left somewhere far and long behind him, though he imagined bits and scraps still clung to his unkempt fur. Rave figured he could just let those mingle with whatever else he'd picked up along the way. Getting out of the forest had set him straight, and shown him the way East, a route he turned against, for the past two days.

Without much direction but the setting sun, Rayza now limped through a more spacious forest, and familiar. Maybe because this one looked so ordinary. Though slanted on a rise to higher peaks, this one at least had no shrubs to trip and tumble through, and roots that didn't look ready to kill him. His paw still burned from catching on the ones in the shadowy place, and his three good legs tried to compensate, but really only ached in protest and made him seek more level ground, which didn't really work around here. But he pressed on, through the end of another long day, with even longer shadows that sunk deeper than the literal ones that sought to fill the forest about him.

His face remained stoic, save for the general pull of exhaustion, but within, he stumbled around in the dark, like he was still trapped up and wrapped by the creepers and vines. What was he even doing here? This whole thing was crazy, probably useless, and a waste of his time. Dad was right to try and find his brother - he could only imagine what kind of wolf he was, a real man. A wolf worth spending time on, a wolf worth knowing. Someone who would've ploughed through that forest even if he dragged half the trees with him.

Someone who would've still been walking East. 

The pitiful cry in Rayza throat caught only at the memory of dad's parting words and manifested in a sudden and silent bolt up the nearest and steepest hillside. Suck it up, Rave. Be a man. Only he didn't know how to be a man. He just knew how to be himself - but apparently, that wasn't enough. The frustration only pushed him harder. His paw faltered at every step, but he charged in a hobbling mess until he crested the hill. He didn't see his snowy company until he staggered to a stop and collapsed against a tree, panting more out of the throbbing pain than the energy he'd used to climb. 

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

No problem <3

Everything about this was definitely a mistake. Maybe even one of the biggest mistakes he ever made because that's how bad of an idea it was. The forest was familiar but not that familiar. He knew for a fact that none of his best friends were hiding somewhere just out of sight. Everything felt sad and miserable. But he didn't get a chance to turn around and head back to Wild Rye Fields.

Because the second his paws kicked into action and he shuffled on the spot—

Someone appeared. Just materialized from the brush and collapsed against a tree without much rhyme or reason.

"Oh." He remarked to no one in particular besides himself. Because standing before him was a wolf of tawny fur and mismatched eyes. They were taller than him. Or at least that's what he could assume. It was hard to tell for sure when the other wolf was collapsed against a tree like their life depended on it or something. He gave an owlish blink—maybe even two—while the gears of his mind quietly whirred away.

His jaws parted and one of his ears twitched from somewhere atop his head. "Are you okay?" He finally asked. Like he didn't know what he was supposed to do. His paws itched but he focused on the stranger who continued to huff and puff away. They seemed more than a little ragged. He didn't know how but he managed to keep himself from blurting that out loud.

The wolf saw him, no surprise, but Rayza made no effort to salvage his entrance. Couldn't, really. Between the tightness of his jaw and the feeling his whole body was simultaneously spinning and on fire, he really didn't have much in him to try. So much for first impressions - ironic that this was probably the most accurate he'd given. A pulsing darkness crept up the corners of his vision, and he folded his lean into a slump, hind leg extended at some skewed and twisted angle, anything to get his weight off the sprain. He squinted - tried to focus on the pallid man - and there was something decidedly eerie about the way the pale wolf stared him down, something not quite wolfish.

And the hum of his voice, distorted through the fogginess of pain - are you okay? - kind of unworldly. And the way the sunlight wrapped a glow around the other's bright and cloud-like fur - Rave squinted harder.

His voice slurred. "Am I dead?" Maybe he was dead. The blackness danced around his vision and fuzzed out the soft edges of the man. He tried to think, but the throb of pain made his mind sluggish, not fully there, and Rayza sunk a bit closer to the ground. He stared. Yeah. That made sense. This guy looked like he'd fit among the clouds. Maybe they were both dead. But Rave found the thought of being dead more troubling than the thought of being alive, and his reason reached no further. No, this wolf was probably real, and this tree, too, despite that everything around him felt so distorted and... well... not.

(This post was last modified: Aug 26, 2017, 11:09 PM by Rayza.)

There was definitely something wrong. He could see that much. Because there really wasn't any other possible explanation for the way the stranger continued to slide lower on the tree's trunk. One of their legs seemed to extend and twist somewhere behind them. Mismatched eyes were squinted and disoriented. He still didn't know what he was supposed to do. And maybe he should get help. There had to be someone nearby that was more knowledgeable about these situations than he ever would be.

But he never got a chance to make up his mind. Because it was in that moment the stranger spoke.

"Am I dead?"

The question was enough to make him start. His yellow eyes widened and his ears rolled back against his head before drawing forward again. Somewhere behind him his tail started to wag in a burst of anxiety. "No." He balked with a quick shake of his head. But even as he said that he found that he wasn't sure. Not when the wolf continued their clumsy descent onto the forest floor and his panic raised a new whole high.

"Or at least I don't, uh, I don't think you are?" He was pretty sure they looked alive. They were still moving and he could hear them breathing from where he stood. But none of it helped. And he was torn between taking a step forward and taking a step back. Because something was obviously wrong and he wanted to help. But at the same time he could remember that last time he was around a sick wolf, they called him a ghost and vomited everywhere. His features squished like he just tasted something sour and he stayed rooted on the spot.

"I'm not a ghost." His voice wavered and maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to say. But he didn't know what the heck he was doing! His grimace only worsened and his yellow eyes flickered between the wolf on the ground and the neighbouring brush. "Should I - should I get help?" He finally asked. And he hoped to whatever powers that might have existed that he was taking the first step in the right direction.

Also, umm, can I just say Cottongrass?? <33 That the way you write him is downright adorable, and downright fantastic <3

Somewhere in his slow descent, the world went black. Rayza only knew this because he couldn't quite remember the moment he'd touched the ground, only that, well, he was on it now. Nor could he determine how long he'd been laying there. He imagined not more than a second or two. Somehow he could still hear the cloud wolf's voice through the darkness, and his panicked reassurance that he hadn't, in fact, died - though Rayza was starting to think he had skimmed up awfully close.

But he was alive, and that was enough to merit a wry crook of his face. "Not a ghost? Dang." Rave winced. He couldn't feel much more than a cold ache in his back leg, but heavens did his head ache. A dull and throbbing pain, just behind his eyes. He closed them. The tree rubbed against his shoulders, cool and inviting, and Rayza tipped back his head to rest against the trunk. His voice came around a clenched and twisted smile. "Afterlife's gonna be such a lonely place."

A long silence followed. Rave didn't pry an eye to check if the cloud wolf had gone. The cool trunk soothed the throb in his skull, and his leg felt nice at this angle, and sleep - sleep sounded good. Good. He smiled faintly. Yeah, he felt good - and stupid, and so much like a baby for taking his anger out on the hill - but hey, wasn't like anyone was expecting much else.

So when the voice came again, Rayza twitched, and a breath hitched in his throat. "Say wha - " He cracked open his eyes and roved a half-lidded gaze to fix on the cloud. Huh. Guess he hadn't run after all. Rayza moved his teeth in a slight chew of his lip. "Just a sprain's, all," He finally said, "Didn't think the hill was gonna be so steep." Yeah. Right. The sheer scale of the hill was why he'd ploughed on up, but Cloudy didn't need to hear about his pity party. But help. Rayza knew squat about healing, nor the first thing about sprains (except to keep off them, a fine job he was doing). If this man could help... but the man smelt of a mingling of scents, a pack. The last thing Rayza needed or wanted.

But help. And whatever debasing things he thought about himself, Rayza wasn't stupid.

He lowered his head from against the trunk and glanced at his paw. "I can't well travel with my leg like this," he gave his toes a little wiggle - which only brought another wince and an immediate stop to the movement. His brow pinched, and a strain of genuine worry pitched his voice. Dang. "I mean, yeah, I guess if you've got anyone to help..." He'd be indebted to them. But he couldn't travel like this, couldn't hunt. And what if he'd screwed up his leg beyond natural healing? He'd be dead by winter, dead by fall. Rayza caught himself nodding, two, three times. "Yeah. Yeah. I need help." Being indebted was better than being dead.

(This post was last modified: Aug 29, 2017, 03:41 AM by Rayza.)

Thank you! <3

Haha.

The jokes weren't helping.

They just might have been doing the exact opposite to him but he wasn't about to voice that. Not when he already on the verge of panicking and voicing those thoughts would only make everything about the situation all too real. Instead he kept quiet. His ears rolled back against his head and he swayed nervously on his paws. Because he was probably in control of the wolf's life and entire future and he never asked for that responsibility.

He could barely handle the responsibility of his own life—and that was on a good day! The wolf before him could have very well been already dead knowing his luck. He forced his brain to shut up.

"Um." He awkwardly started. Yellow eyes darted from the injured wolf before him to the neighbouring forest. There was nothing but shadows waiting for him there and he felt like he was running out of time. He knew the bare minimum about sprains. Like you weren't supposed to put any weight on them and Lorcan had said eating tree bark could help with the pain. But he couldn't remember what kind of bark and he was too scared to risk it. What if he poisoned the man? That would be bad.

Really bad.

He forced himself to think of another possible solution.

"Do you think you could walk if I, uh, helped you? Like—" He didn't know where he was going with that one. But it was probably better than nothing. "You could lean against me?" That sounded dumb. He felt really dumb. With a heavy sigh he shuffled on the spot and met the mismatched gaze of the stranger.

"I mean—my pack has a, uh, healer. She's probably a lot smarter than me." And a way less likely to accidentally kill you. Hopefully. He whined and continued to fidget where he stood. His gaze returned back to the woods and the darkness that only seemed to get worse the longer he stood still.

"Or we could just stay the night out here? I dunno, man. I really don't wanna make anything worse." He was rambling. Everybody in the whole entire world knew it. But let it be known that Cottongrass No Surname was terrible when it came down to situations that required being level-headed and not useless. This was just a testament to that fact.

The stranger carried him through a jittered pitch of uncertainty, and Rayza stayed quiet with a tip of his head. In an of themselves, they weren't bad ideas. In fact, he rather liked the thought of moving somewhere other than these woods, even to a pack. At least then he wouldn't have to worry about what he'd do if he met company less friendly than the stranger. That and the mention of a healer certainly didn't hurt the case. But then, there was a way to Cloudy that made even Rayza question if they would both be better off just digging holes and burying their heads in the ground until the morning came.

"Don't worry," Rayza countered the thought with a trying attempt to reassure the man. Despite the dreadful twist of his stomach, Rayza let a grin slip over his face, though the nerves from Cloudy tightened the corners of his lips. "I reckon you can't make things worse than I already have." He still felt rather lightheaded, but the pain and the darkness had since subsided. And the sun hadn't set so long ago; the striking hues of twilight had since faded to a dimmer shade of dusk, but the night still had better hours to offer. As much as he liked the thought of shooing the stranger away and resting alone til morning, Rayza knew that by doing that, he might be sending away the only wolf who could help him. Rayza flicked his ear. "Well then, to a den or to your pack, looks like we're hobbling somewhere tonight. How far d'ya live from here?"

(This post was last modified: Sep 01, 2017, 11:10 PM by Rayza.)

The stranger was delusional. There was no other possible explanation for the initial sentence they uttered. Because they were talking to Cottongrass. Cottongrass was Cottongrass! He was cursed with bad luck and everybody in the whole entire world knew it. And he wanted to explain that to the man. Give them a fair warning before they went any further. But night was setting and he wasn't that obnoxious.

Instead he fell silent. Yellow eyes continued to search the consuming darkness while he listened to the wolf talk.

"Wild Rye Fields—er, that's my, uh, pack—is a few days east." And the journey really wasn't that long. He could probably make it back home before daybreak if he really wanted to. But the wolf before him had a sprained paw so he crossed that idea off the list. Hobbling around wasn't fun. He knew that from experience. Which left him with one other possible option. His ears twitched and he shuffled on the spot.

"I think there is an old den somewhere nearby? I dunno. We should probably stay the night and we can get moving in the morning. If you want to." He didn't know what the heck he was doing. But something was probably about to happen so he tried to quiet his mind. With one last nervous fidget he shuffled towards the wolf on the ground.

"C'mon. You can lean against me or something." He reached out to bump thick fur with the blunt end of his muzzle. And without much more for him to really do—he bent at the knees and prepared to help the wolf stand. Or at least catch them if gravity decided to be extra strong or something. It happened. He wouldn't blame them if they stumbled or wobbled around like a newborn puppy on stilts. Sprained paws and ankles made a mess out of everything.