Roamer's Rest circus-itis may affect children of all ages

for Clover

The young Archer hadn't really meant to end up so far from home, not in weather like this. Only, he was still feeling a bit woozy after all those apples, and wanted to find somewhere to sleep where he would not be disturbed, or disturb anyone if he felt unwell.

Spleck. He should not have eaten so many.

The hollowed out tree was perfect, a lucky find for sure. Other creatures had slept here, he could tell, but the scents were old and stale and the dry leaves that had blown in were dry and made for a soft bed. Curling up into a small ball, the boy tucked in alone and hoped to feel better when he woke up.

When he did awake, he was greeted by a fresh, thin, powdery blanket of snow outside his little hollow beneath the soft light of the predawn. He did feel better, though he was thirsty and had a bad taste in his mouth. But all that fresh snow was so pretty... he decided to stay curled up a little longer, where it was warm, and see if anything interesting happened by. Maybe he could see a new bird - there were a lot of new ones whenever winter snows came, he noticed - or maybe something he could catch and take home, for his family. He hadn't managed to catch anything on his own yet, not really, but soon he would, and then he'd have a perfect gift for his mother.

The thought warmed and calmed him as he tucked his tail around himself and his paws beneath, becoming nothing but a small shadow with green eyes blinking out at the small patch of forest he could see from his hiding place.

Clover ventured further than she had in a long time, beyond even the willows until she reached the edge of a meadow. Perhaps in any season other than winter it would have been a beautiful sight, but even covered in a thin blanket of snow it had its own beauty. She slowly meandered along the edge of the meadow, not feeling the urge to go beyond the tree line given how empty it appeared. It would be more likely she would find something of interest under the cover of the trees anyway.

She paused at the sight of two green eyes peeking out from a hollowed out tree. Her ears pricked forward as she quietly observed, brows furrowing for a moment before a warm smile appeared on her maw. Though there were plenty of older scents mingling with the bark, the musk of wolf stood out stronger than anything else.

"Hello," she said gently, wondering what they were doing hiding within the tree.

The boy had started to drift off again, not quite dozing but certainly lost in his own thoughts. How long were winters, anyway? What came after? It seemed the forest around their home was constantly changing these days. When the white wolf appeared, he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined her at first.

But no, she was really there, and what's more she seemed to notice him too as her ears flicked forward and she looked about, sniffing. Izzy weighed his options, he couldn't just doze and let her pass on by. She didn't look mean, smiling as she greeted him, and so he stretched and stuck his head out of the tree, greeting her with a smile in return.

The Archer lad was aware he was not the most presentable picture at the moment, rather bedraggled from his previous misadventures and with dried leaves stuck in his fur. Stepping out of his hollow, and letting out a small huff, he shook the leaves free. Then Iseldir looked up at the strange-to-him but pretty lady, a little more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "Hello," he echoed. Wow. He was really getting good at this whole introductions thing!

(This post was last modified: Jan 16, 2023, 03:56 AM by Iseldir.)

The pair of green eyes loomed closer, until finally a dark brown head appeared from within the hollowed out tree, and then a few moments later the rest of the body followed. The boy seemed a tad worse for wear, his fur rubbed in different directions with dried leaves tangled in the longer hairs. But he appeared healthy enough, so she wasn't too concerned. Boys would be boys, as she had learned with her own son quite quickly on.

The boy took a moment to shake the leaves from his fur, before echoing her greeting. She glanced around, wondering what he was doing out here by himself. There were other wolf scents on his fur, but as far as she could tell it was only the two of them.

"Do you have a parent or a guardian nearby? It's not safe for a child to be on their own during winter." She was somewhat concerned for his safety as evident by the motherly tone of her voice, though she tried to hold herself back from being too pushy. He wasn't her child, and she didn't want to step over any boundaries he may have.

The young Archer shrugged, unsure of what to say back, and tipped his muzzle in the general direction the ridge lay in, or so he hoped.

How far exactly had he wandered beyond the willows the night before? His memory was foggy. Surely his sister had not followed him, had been wiser than he in not going back for more, not wandered off across the moonlit snows feeling on top of the world. Worry settled into the pit of his stomach. Izzy hoped she was home safe. Was she, or his mother, out looking for him even now? He hoped not, they should be spending their time on better things than his night of wayward antics.

" 'm okay," he mumbled, giving a few thumps of his tail even though his head was still feeling funny and not great now that he'd emerged from the shadows. Was it really that unsafe? He often went out by himself, even if it was rarely outside of the willows. Even though he wasn't really being responsible at the moment, he was getting more and more capable every day, and with their little family trying to get through the winter each pair of paws counted when it came to scavenging and scouting and scraping by, even those who had not quite turned a year of age. He had yet to encounter for himself the danger his father or brother had so recently met, or the other dark things that might lurk in this part of the Lore. Plus, he wasn't really thinking straight the night before.

The boy motioned in a direction, and though her gaze briefly glanced toward it she quickly looked back at him. Clover was less familiar with the lands south of the Backwater, and so would be little help in guiding him back to his home. At the very least he appeared to be fine, if only a bit sleepy. Perhaps he had had a big night?

"I'm Clover," she said with another smile, sitting back on her haunches and tilting her head back to look up at him. While younger than her, the boy was already taller, though she had no qualms about that at all. She was used to being smaller than everyone she met. "I live further north beyond the willows with the rest of my pack." Clover hoped by talking about herself that she could get the boy to say more than just a word or two.

Clover, the name made him think of the green shamrocks that carpeted the meadow in the spring and summer, with their pink and white blooms. It was a nice name, and she seemed nice, too.

Taking a breath, he mustered himself and offered an introduction of his own. "Iseldir Archer," he didn't always want to say much, but the lad was proud of his name. His tail stirred behind him and his head raised a degree as his ears tipped to catch her next words.

He was also surprised to find himself taller than her when he stood straight, which was different than his parents whom he was used to, whose own stature was still somewhat larger than his own.

She lived with her pack, to the north? Green eyes glinted with interest, and his tail stirred once more. Izzy couldn't help but be curious, but the thought made him a little nervous somehow, too. He could remember when their pack had dwindled away, to just their family, did that mean that there was a bigger group of wolves living somewhere up north? But, at least Clover seemed to be nice enough.

"I... live at Willow Ridge," he said after another moment, wondering just how far he'd roamed after all. Fuzzy memories and a strange pulsing at the front of his head brought the wagging tail to a still once more.

Her ears perked forward at the name the boy offered up, going through all the Archers she knew of - and there seemed to be plenty around - for whomever may be the parent of him. There were a few possible candidates, though she could not say which one for certain.

Without any further prompting Iseldir offered up more information, at which point a firmer connection was made in Clover's mind. "Do you by any chance know Avella?" She wouldn't outright say it, but as Avella had the last name of Archer - and she was sure Scully had had no intentions of becoming a father - she would assume Iseldir was her child, or at the very least a close relative.