Drooping Willows you always end up stickin' to me

@Adeltra, early evening | tags for @Maeve @Piety @Morganna so they know what's going on with emo boy
Maeve is welcome to jump in she likes, left it pretty vague (ps if you want a travel thread let me know! <3)
backdated for December 16 on the assumption they left December 12 (after talking to Piety/Morg)

More snow had arrived since his last visit over the mountain, making the trek a little more difficult this time around. But he knew the freezing temperatures and cracked paws would be worth it once he reached the edge of the ridge territory. Maeve had matched his pace and, truthfully, it was nice to have company. Even if she was doing most (if not all) of the talking. She had made the trek over the mountain, too, so it also helped having a second pair of eyes. The south was still foreign territory to the tundra boy and it would take some time for him to adjust to the different terrain. Especially the mountain, for the monadnock paled in comparison to the rugged chunk of stone.

Piety had not been happy about his decision to venture west but she had complied, for she knew that he would have gone regardless of her opinion. It had helped that he wasn’t going alone, for Cyril wondered if his mother feared that he wouldn’t return. He couldn’t leave her. Not after everything they had been together. But he had also made a promise to the girl and he intended to keep it. Plus, he wanted to make sure that she did not have any issues settling back into the willows.

He had (silently) announced that he was heading toward the borders, leaving it up to Maeve to join him if she wanted to. Cyril did not know if she had any business with the ridge wolves or if she had just wanted to come along for the ride. He wouldn’t protest if she wanted to accompany him, as she had already joined him this far.

As he arrived at the edge of Ridge territory he hesitated, his forepaws shuffling across the snow-dusted ground nervously. He had already made it this far—there was no turning back now. Tossing his nose to the sky he called for only one wolf and would not accept the presence of another. If any other Ridge wolves decided to grace him with their presence he would leave, as he was not interested in exchanging pleasantries. He just wanted to see his friend.

She had been spending most of her time staying busy. She visited Lorcán every so often to keep him company, made sweeps of the borders and tried her best to keep their caches clean and updated. They’d gained four extra members which was a good thing for the Ridge but it also meant more mouths to feed and more wolves to keep track of. She was going to try and make her way through all of them at some point, but for the moment they would have to settle with friendly glances and brief greetings in passing.

This day she was wandering the territory, minding the borders but really just having a lazy day. There wasn’t much to do and she’d considered sleeping in but thought better of it. What if Momma came home today and she wasn’t out and about and the first one to greet her to let her know she was safe? This was a thought that plagued her and the dark girl never gave up hope that this scenario might happen. Sure momma was older but she was strong! She’d make it back just fine.

A call went up into the air and she paused her pondering, auds swiveling forward and straining to capture the message before a grin stretched across her lips. She went off at a sprint toward Cyril, excitement buzzing through her body. She wondered how he would be, if he’d changed any in the few weeks that they’d been apart. Even those two weeks had been two long weeks and she’d found herself wondering about him and Miss. Piety frequently.

His dark form came into view and she let out a bark, not showing her pace but running head long into her larger friend. Whines escaped her jaws as she sniffed him over, little body wriggling and practically vibrating. Once she was done with her poking and prodding she stepped back grinning brightly, “You came! How are you? Did you settle down somewhere? How is it?” she bombarded him, then realized how ridiculous she was being. She cleared her throat sheepishly, “Ah, sorry,” she apologized.

He waited, nervously, with a frown cut deep into his dark lips. Would she even care that he had come to visit, or had she already gone back to her former life and forgotten about him? The thought caused him to take a few steps back, his tail flicking with uncertainty. What if he was greeted by his brother—the brother he never knew existed until recently (thanks to Morganna’s big, informative mouth). Or, what if another approached, asking him to leave. Announcing that Adeltra did not want to see him again. That he was not welcome.

He took another step back, his yellow eyes blinking feverishly to eliminate the wave of negative thoughts that consumed him. Crashing down; drowning him.

A shadow moved in the distance, causing his ears to flatten against the back of his skull. But as he shadow grew bigger he recognized the amber pools floating amongst all the ebony. She flung herself into his plush winter pelt, her nose prodding his thin body as she (thoroughly) inspected him. A low whine escaped him as he leaned into her, his cheek pressed against hers for a moment before she pulled away, a wide grin perched effortlessly against her dark maw. A series of questioned tumbled from her mouth, but they did not catch him off guard. He had been expecting (hoping for) such a response.

Cyril shrugged in response to her first question, for he wasn’t really sure how he was. So much too quickly and the sullen Kael was still struggling to adjust. Especially since he had left the tundra for trees. As for the settling down… Sort of. His voice cracked from lack of use, hoarse and brittle as it caressed the cold air. Quaking Vale, he added as further explanation, his tongue feeling weird in his mouth. Not talking had been so easy. Now it felt weird; unnatural. Don’t like it. Another shrug. But he was staying for his mother. Which was why his visit to the west was only just that—a visit. 

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

The travel wasn't nearly as rough as Maeve had predicted it'd be. It actually went by fairly quickly, surprising seeing that the majority of it was complete and utter silence as the fae had run out of things to babble on about and her company sure as hell hadn't planned on helping her keep the conversation afloat. When they'd finally arrived, she could physically see that the poor pup was growing more and more nervous. But for what? She wondered. Perhaps it would have been better to ask for more details pertaining to the trip, however she simply loved surprises. Especially if they were bad ones. Were they here to fight a wolf? Did the boy seek revenge on someone residing in this territory? Would the pair successfully take the stranger down and bring their skull back as a trophy? Wow, that'd sure be exciting. Maeve couldn't help but crack a smile just thinking about it.

Eventually a wolf came sprinting forward, clearly arriving to answer the call of her travel buddy, but in that exact moment it became clear to Maeve that this was just a soft, mushy reunion. "Ahh, huh." She mumbled, stepping back to let the pair do their thing. 'Gross.'

Update: I suck and this whole time didn't realize that it was my turn. Lol kill me plz

She hummed as he pressed his cheek to hers, happy for the contact. Addy was mindful of personal space to those she didn’t know but to those she considered herself close to she could be sort of touchy feely. Cyril, however, was a different story. It was almost like they’d always been like this, from the moment they’d known each other. There had been a connection established almost immediately that left her feeling completely comfortable in his presence. After the incident a bit of a gap had formed between them(though it had seemed to close up after the night at the lake) but now things seemed to be back to normal. She was happy for it because it seemed that even though they were far apart their connection was holding strong.


She listened to his words, auds shoved forward and fully alert as she listened hungrily for his response. She was pleased to hear him speak, even if it was choppy and hoarse. The dark Archer would have understood him even if he hadn’t spoken, though. She opened her jaws to speak when she finally took note of the presence of another. Her brows rose as she looked at the silver female, cloaked in light hues all the way down to her pale green eyes. She seemed uncomfortable, grumbling something before moving away. Her attention turned back to Cyril curiously. But, order of events first.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, her brows furrowing in concern. Were they not treating him right? If that was the case the girl would happily march her hind end over there and give them a piece of her mind. Nobody messed with her Cy, especially not after all he’d been through. “Is she from Quaking Vale?” she asked, gesturing towards the direction the woman had gone.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until she collided with him and her familiar comforting scent consumed him. A sigh of relief escaped him, his shoulders suddenly feeling lighter. It was strange how close they had gotten in the short amount of time they’d spent together. The sullen Kael had spent time with other cubs in the north but he hadn’t clicked with any of them like he had with Adeltra.

At least being in the south meant he was closer to her… there had to be some sort of silver lining to all the grief that consumed him.

His ears twitched at the sound of Maeve shuffling backward, his cheeks flushing warm crimson beneath his obsidian fur. In all of his nervousness and excitement Cyril had nearly forgotten about her. She had been the perfect travel companion, even if she did talk a little too much, but he supposed that was because he’d barely spoken at all. He should have warned her that the end result wasn’t going to be as exciting as she hoped. That it was a personal visit, not business or leisure. Poor Maeve.

What’s wrong with it?

The concern was evident in her voice, earning a small frown from the yellow-eyed boy. His tail twitched. It’s not home, he responded in a low voice, his ears swept back against the back of his skull. Cyril didn't know if anything would feel like home again—not after he watched his father die on home soil. Don’t know anyone. Nor did he care to get to know the wolves of the Vale. Except for Maeve, who had forced her way into his life.

The next question was one he’d been expecting, to which he answered with a sharp nod. Offered to come, he answered with a shrug, his expression neutral as he glanced over at his travel companion. Didn’t want mom to worry, he added as his yellow gaze swept back to his ebony friend, the corners of his mouth pinched tight. He hated the sound of his voice after being silent for so long, but talking to Adeltra was easy. Even if it made his tongue dry and his head spin.

<3 it's okay! @Maeve @Adeltra

For now, the fae would just let the pair carry their conversation without her. What they had simply had nothing to do with her, and it'd just be awkward for her to insert herself anyways. She kept her eyes closed and her head down, nodding in agreement at a few things here and there. "Is she from Quaking Vale?" Nod, "It's not home." Another nod, damn, you've got that right kid, and it never would be either. That feeling of 'home' was just about gone for good, for the both of them. It'd never quite be the same, no matter how similar, no matter how happy you try to make yourself. Always different. The life of losing a parent, man. 'Poor kid..' The woman frowned.

He responded and she should have known. Of course that would be a reason and she would never blame him for it. He was still healing, still coming to terms and she wished with all her heart that she could be there for him more than she was. But they were a mountain apart, literally, and she had to make due with the here and the now. And, he revealed, it didn’t help that he didn’t know anybody. A sadness filled her chest for her friend, tho she was careful to keep it hidden from her features. Cyril, she knew, didn’t want pity from anyone. He was strong and proud, even in his grieving state and she knew that she wouldn’t want anyone looking down on her if she were in the same situation.

When he mentioned that the woman had offered to come, her amber-yellow gaze flickered to her again. She wondered about her character, not in a judgemental way but out of curiosity. Just how had she managed to convince the dark Kael to allow her to come with him? Even if Cy said that it was just to keep Miss. Piety from worrying there had to be more to it. Still, she made sure to give a nod of acknowledgment and a little bit of thanks to the woman. This conversation was between the dark pair but Addy felt rude if she didn’t even acknowledge the presence of the other.

Her attention turned back to the former prince. And how’s your mom doing? she asked. She was closest with the boy but the pale woman had been the one to allow her to stay with them, so she was also curious about her condition.

He felt bad for the girl from the Vale—unknowingly accompanying him on a social visit because he hadn’t explained himself properly. But he hadn’t felt like talking much. The boy had been too focused on seeing his friend to divulge information with the silver girl. Oops. Perhaps, on the way back, he would talk a little more. Part of him felt bad for the conversation being one-sided, but part of him didn’t care. He didn’t even know if he planned on sticking around the Vale—was making friends, or acquaintances, worth it?

Adeltra appeared to be doing better. She was not as lean as she had been during her stay in the north and she looked… happy? content? Being home was a good look for her, Cyril only wished he could feel the same as she did. His home had been torn away from him by the antlers of a rogue deer. He didn’t know if he ever wanted to see the monadnock again, for the place was laced with memories of his father. Memories still too painful to bring to the surface.

Okay, he answered softly, his yellow gaze falling away from her dark features, Better. His mother was certainly much stronger than he was, or she was putting on a good face. It seemed the pale woman was happy-ish to be in the Vale, so close to her friend Morganna. But she seemed tired—tired of travelling and tired of not knowing where to go or what to do. It was a conversation waiting to happen once he returned to the other side of the mountain. How are you? He asked, wanting to shift the topic away from him and onto her. Her well-being was the reason behind the visit. Cyril wanted to make sure she was happy being home.