Red Fern Forest the wind is low, the birds'll sing

January 9th; Mid-afternoon; Clear Sky; -22 ° F, -30° C.

For having come this far, Mouse had to give it to himself. He had survived on his own for this long without his fathers or siblings hovering over him. He had hunted and scavenged to keep his belly full. He had traveled and seen so much more than he had ever dreamed. If anything, he knew by now that his Papa had been wrong. Beyond Salamander Swamp, there was so much more world to see and feel and smell, a hundred thousand experiences waiting for him to behold. Even in the snow and the chill in the air, the youth was feeling on top of the world.

It was a good thing he had slaked his thirst some hours ago in a half-frozen, half-bubbling stream; he figured by now, he would have been coughing from a dry throat and the sting of cold air in his nostrils. As it was, he was still in prime condition for hiking through the woods.

After some time, he arrived in a small clearing, still vibrant red leaves hidden in the snow underfoot. He frowned to himself. How long had it been now? Since he had left Grizzly Hollow and paid respects to the very place where he had been born. Something should have given by now... Even if just ghosts or the traces of where there had been once a thriving wolf pack. His grandfather's and Papa's pack couldn't have been one of many misplaced territories, could it? Surely, there were others out there. Out here...

His heart thumped uncertainly in his chest, a particular loneliness starting to chew on his heartstrings. He tilted his muzzle skyward, a sad but melodic song ultimately lifting into the air, "Dear Prudence... won't you come out to pla-a-ay?"

// Throwing Atty in here :3

Things weren’t so difficult on her own. Not really. Atsila had yet to find Awinita, but she assumed her sibling was in good health. If Atsila could survive, then so could her twin. That was just a fact of life - plain and simple.

Long legs carried her over the dense, snow-coated forest floor, and her reddish pelt blended in well to her surroundings. Was it fun to know that her pelage was the same color as dead winter’s leaves, if not a bit more fiery? Not particularly. But it did make this forest in particular a favorite of hers.

The young wolf perked her rounded ears when a wolf song filtered through the red trees, tilting her head to the side. It couldn’t have been calling for her, no, but it was lonely, and... she was lonely, too. So she followed the call, pale blue eyes halfway narrowed and brows drawn together in concern.

She wasn’t who the voice was calling for, but in the dead of winter with no one else around, did that really matter?

Dark fur came into view and Atsila took a moment to take in the sight - a canvas painted in white and red and a single dark figure amongst the landscape. He stood out where she blended in, even with the white steam billowing from his muzzle. Perhaps a bit younger than she was, and alone as well.

”Were you calling for anyone in particular?” she asked, friendly as always though she had spoken to no one for weeks upon weeks.

You smell the remains of an elk nearby. Enjoy your feast! +10 Health

For a moment, silence washed back over him and the world grew still. There was nothing but the occasional creak of the dark-wood trees and the subtle whispers in the winter wind. He dared to let another lyric slip off his tongue, much quieter than before, perhaps even more bashful and more reserved, "Dear Prudence... greet the brand new day..." He smiled to himself. It was a simple song, a mere melody that had been floating in his head for quite some time now since he had been on his own - in a wilderness that did not belong to him.

"Were you calling for anyone in particular?"

A gasp of air fled back into his lungs and his ears momentarily flipped back before coming back to their normal forward position atop his head. So, someone had heard him. He half-spun about in order to find his newfound companion. His golden eyes drank her in, but he made no assumptions. His tail wagged and he gave her a close-lipped smile. "N-no," he replied, trying to resist the urge to take a step back. "Jus'... singin'." Another sheepish grin, "My aunt's name was Prudence though. I... think." A small wince and a another brief wag of his tail in embarrassment. All Lyalls seemed to have two or three other names, himself included, but there was no need to share such a complicated answer.

He cleared his throat in attempt to recover himself, "I'm Mouse, an' you're...?"

images of broken light,
which dance before me like a million eyes...

Mouse? That was a silly little name. He certainly was too big to be a Mouse.

Still, he seemed a good wolf, if not quiet. Very polite and timid, too. Atsila wondered if it was easy for others to run all over him, with that sweet little personality. She offered him a smile, broader and inviting. ”Nice to meet ya, Mouse. My name’s Atsila,” the blue-eyed wolf responded, wagging her tail. ”You can call me Atty though. It’s shorter and less of a... dumb name.” Sure, she didn’t like her name in particular. But it could be worse.

”You by yourself out here, bud?” she asked, tilting her head to the side with a soft frown. ”It’s kinda a hard time of year for that living on your own stuff.” Not that she was doing any better, though they both appeared to be doing just fine for themselves regardless of the fact they didn’t have a pack to go back to.

And perhaps Atsila made more sense on her own. She never seemed to find anyone to stick around with, anyway. ”You lookin’ for your Aunt?” she pressed, tilting her head and letting one ear fold over.

His eyes remained fixated on her as he enunciated his name, but found that she easily overlooked his unconventional name. If he had been hellbent on throwing out the fact that he was initially named after his grandfather Merritt, he probably wouldn't have heard her offer her own name in return. He watched her tail wave about behind her, still smiling.

"Atty is a nice name. Not dumb at all." He supposed it was an appropriate time to show some decorum, put some etiquette into practice. Veho, Rook and Amaryllis did not raise some ungrateful, wired-furred heathen. He opened his mouth to talk some more, to mention that he thought her full name was rather fanciful and that he thought it was more thoughtful than, say, Mouse and Merritt... but, the conversation had already moved on.

"Bud." She had called him bud... Mouse could feel his cheeks flare up with heat beneath the dark areas of his face, and as she went on to remind him of the time of year, he felt the heatwave prickle over his shoulders and down his back. "No," he lied through his teeth. "I'm with my sister. She's out huntin'." Oh, Papa would have seen right through him then... his fidgety nose and whiskers a dead giveaway. "And, nah," his charm easily recovered though. "Papa hasn't seen my aunt in a long time. They had a fight or somethin'." This part, genuine truth, seemed to change his tone entirely, being much more level and clear than when he mentioned his absent twin. "Just out exploring," he stated before a bit of naivety brought the mature image of himself crumbling down to reveal his true nature. Mouse might have been simple and oftentimes considered quite sharp, but his own innocence and dream-clouded head usually got in his way. "Are you looking for your aunt?"

(This post was last modified: Jan 13, 2019, 04:36 AM by Mouse.)

images of broken light,
which dance before me like a million eyes...

She smiled a bit when he called her name nice, and her tail wagged lightly behind her. He was certainly polite, for sure. A sweet boy. His parents must’ve done a pretty good job with raising him, unlike hers. Sure, her parents were great and all, but a bit more discipline would’ve done Atsila some good growing up.

His mood changed and she paused, brows drawn up slightly. Had she hurt his feelings? Hit a nerve? It definitely hadn’t been her intention, but it was clear something in him had changed. Even when discussing his sister and then his father and aunt, he changed.

That was peculiar, but Atsila didn’t know enough about him to understand why.

Though she did know he was not traveling with anyone. She had a nose, after all, but she decided to keep that bit of information - however obvious and helpful - to herself.

”I’m looking for my sister,” she corrected with a small smile. ”Awinita Macieo? She looks just like me, but with brown eyes?” It was unlikely he had seen her anywhere, but it was worth a shot, even if she hadn’t actively been looking for her sister recently, she was still trying.

The fact that Atty had been looking for someone at all made Mouse extremely relieved. Guess he wasn't the only one who had lost - or simply lost track of - someone... His golden eyes peered up into her face, meeting her gaze for the briefest of moments before settling on her maw. The moment he saw her pronounce that familiar surname, however, his smile fell away, even if only to make way for an even bigger grin. His face could have been the face of the sun if it weren't for his dark mask and, well, being a wolf instead of some fiery, celestial being.

"Wait," his tail was waving to and fro. "Did you say... Macieo??" There was a second where he made an attempt to find Dad's face in Atsila's. It was tough, but there were some familiar features he thought he recognized. If anything, there was a twinge of something easily recognizable in her scent. Apart from that, Atsila Macieo and her sister Awinita were strangers to him.

"That's- That's my Dad's name!"

(This post was last modified: Jan 18, 2019, 07:06 PM by Mouse.)

images of broken light,
which dance before me like a million eyes...

Atsila was confused by his reaction, but soon enough understood and grinned broadly as well, her expression rivaling his own in terms of sunshiny-ness. Because, okay, wow, she found a family member and while it wasn’t her sister, Mouse was definitely plenty good enough. They were family!

”Your dad? What’s your dad’s name?” she asked excitedly, tail waving behind her. It was interesting that Mouse had been singing for one aunt and, though she didn’t quite know it yet, had found another.

Perhaps not by blood, but still. Family was family.

Her brows furrowed in sudden confusion and she set her jaw. ”Please tell me your name isn’t Mouse Macieo.” What kind of cruel wolf would do such a thing?

With wide, hopeful eyes he watched and waited for the realization to dawn over her. His tail began to swipe sideways at the air as her expression changed and her tone shifted with her next questions. Mouse was squealing inside. Maybe she knew a few things that he didn't, like where Aunt Namid was or where he might want to go and settle down with family, instead of wandering around.

His smile softened then and as soon as he saw her brows angle and crease, he grew still. "Please tell me your name isn’t Mouse Macieo," she remarked. Mouse felt a lump in his throat, suddenly all too aware of the sunbeam that was hitting him right in the face, and it wasn't the happy and warm and sunshiny kind either. It was hot and comfortable and it made his ears flip back and his tail fall limp. Almost immediately he felt the urge to sit and, just like that, his back limbs folded beneath him.

Embarrassment was a familiar friend and Mouse instinctively looked away, "It's Lyall, after my Papa." For the first time in his life, he wondered why he hadn't been Mouse Macieo. Veho was his father, too, wasn't he? So, why only Rook's name? His face set into the expression of a silent hmmph before he looked back at his potential relative. "My Papa is Rook Lyall, my Mama's name is Amaryllis, and my Dad is Veho Macieo," he slowly explained, "So... what does that make us?"

images of broken light,
which dance before me like a million eyes...