Heartleaf Creek affaire de coeur

...but she was etched into me like stone

March 15; Hours before sunrise; Overcast; 20 ° F, -6 ° C.

For the past four days he had basically been stuck to Hecate's side; he had enjoyed the first 36 hours, filling the afternoons with lazy naps and enjoying the night by finding all the places to hide beyond Willow Ridge and taking advantage of the dark. Being larger, darker, it was easy for him to swallow her up in the shadows and steal her away. Whether or not he was successful in his feat to produce another child to uphold the Archer bloodline, he had yet to find out. Waiting, however, was making him anxious and while @Hecate soundly slept, he decided to take a walk.

He didn't go too far, trailing along the creek and keeping the babbling waters always to his right side as he wandered. Eventually, he stopped, standing between the willows and the woodlands of Sacred Grove. At this rate, it would take him a while, perhaps half an hour if he took his time, to get back to his enamored mate, who would no doubt be missing him if she awoke to find him gone.

The crows above twittered and scolded one another as they nestled in the trees to his right. A storm was coming. Skoll's mouth curved up in a lop-sided grin; a bit of rain would help when it came to relieving himself of Hecate's scent. At present, it was still making his skin crawl and his stomach tie itself into knots. Without thought, he stepped into the small stream, sticking to the water up to his elbows at first before laying down and dunking his head below the surface.

When he rose to get out of the icy shallows, he coughed and took a deep inhale, but he wouldn't shake his coat out just yet. He wanted all the savor gone from his fur, save for his own musk. It was a good thing this phenomenon only happened once a year; if it occurred every month, he wasn't sure if he could manage. One more dip in the creek and he strode out, turning the still-frozen ground beneath him into a mixture of snow and mud. He shook out his coat at last, sending a few of the black birds into the sky from the unusual hushed sound. As he sat on a patch of snow, he set his teeth to his paws, itching a spot just above his right wrist and only vaguely aware of anything else around him.

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

*snaps up more Grey threads*

A storm was definitely coming. Craw's nose twitched, his limbs tensing in turn as he kneaded idly at the snow, considering whether or not it was a bad idea it continue following this trail. Unsure of @Morgannas littermate from the very first time that she had mentioned him, Craw's relationship with the man was thin and wary at best; he had easily spent far, far more time with @Sven than with his father. A loose cannon, a rogue element, a bared wire, Craw had no faith at all that Skoll was anything more than a disaster waiting to happen. But the decision to cut him off wasn't his to make, and he was still playing nice for Morganna. This was her epic to write. Craw just intended on guiding her hand.

As the season of lust had descended upon them all, it had taken all of Craw's willpower not to succumb to it, but he had not - choosing strength of mind and the sensible long-term decision over short-term satisfaction and urges, no matter how badly he wanted it, all of it, he had resisted. He doubted that Morganna appreciated just how difficult that was. Could he say the same for her own sibling, though? That Skoll was Hecate's training partner had become clear over time, their closeness obvious. In and of itself no dangerous thing. But something felt off, in a similar way that the unsettled partnership between Morganna and Nicolo felt off, that Nicolo's own ambitions and plans felt at odds to what Morganna was trying to achieve.

Family politics. How had he gotten himself so tangled up with someone else's family? He'd just traded one vicious mess for another. One thing was for certain; he wouldn't be getting himself into the same hot mess as he had last time.

Perhaps foolishly, he had pressed on, the Archer's scent in his nose as he trailed the man out to the creek. He heard the soft splashing before he spotted the dark figure, but then his prey was in sight, and Craw stopped just short of emerging from the willows. He watched Skoll bathe himself, shake himself, and then lay down, and it wasn't too late to cut this short and simply walk away.

Instead he stepped forward, heavy paws crunching quietly in the snow, throat wheezing a quiet beat with every breath, eyes moving from the Archer to the creek where he stopped to bend his neck and lap at the freezing waters. "Skoll," he greeted coolly, as though he were just acknowledging a chance meeting, acknowledging the presence of a superior (don't make me sick).

...but she was etched into me like stone

He had raised a leg to relieve the itchiness behind a pointy ear when he had heard those heavy footsteps trudging through the frost at the edges of the river bank. Without even looking behind him to see just whose company he got to keep for sometime, he assumed that it was his uncle. A displeased sneer readily settled onto his scarred mug and he turned his head slowly (for some sort of dramatic and maybe intimidating effect) to focus his ghost gray eyes on a spider-faced man who easily looked as though he stood taller than him upon first glance - even if he had lowered himself for a quick drink. Immediately, the brute was sized up and the prince's leg came down so that he could stand up straight with all four limbs tall beneath his lean torso.

Skoll hadn't forgotten (really, he had a knack for retaining at least 90% of the information his age mate sister fed him); and, at present, there was only one personality this man could have been. "You must be the Guardian," he drawled in greeting. "My sister's conscript." He was able to suppress a scoff, realizing now that he was not at all threatened by him. The soft wheezing he could pick up immediately told the prince of a respiratory sickness and he could not help but wonder just how old those lungs in his chest were to be emitting such woeful sounds.

"Did Morganna send you?" he questioned now, his eyes never leaving the man's face. Ever so slowly, his tail began to rise up behind him, not for the sake of a challenge but for dropping a hint that he held the more superior position on the hierarchy of males. "No one comes out this far in the middle of the night for just a drink..."

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

It was no big surprise that Skoll wasn't all that familiar with him, as Craw had made no point at all to establish contact. He was confident that he knew all he needed to of the swarthy, arrogant creature before him just by watching at the sidelines. All the same he hoped this encounter would be enlightening - though he hardly had high expectations to begin with.

There was something satisfying about how Skoll scrambled to his feet at the sight of him. Craw considered him for a moment before resuming his drink, eyes on the water, showing both respect and disrespect in averting his gaze; yes Skoll outranked him, but no, Craw wasn't afraid of him, either. An ear twitched at the sound of Skoll's drawl, already thick with mocking sarcasm, leaping straight into hostility. Well, if that's how it was going to be. Leisurely Craw concluded his quenching, licking his wet lips with his tongue as he lifted his head again and let his gaze fall easily on the Second. Once Leader, usurped by his ageing uncle in no time at all. Even his family knew he was a waste of space.

Did Morganna send him? Craw's eyes drew to the black tail curling over Skoll's back, mulling over the paranoia evident in that accusation. Was he feeling guilty, or was he just always looking over his shoulder? Did he think his sister kept tabs on him as though he were a child, or a liability? She probably should. And there was absolutely no value in putting Skoll's mind to rest, so rather than answer, Craw just smiled thinly and let Skoll come to his own conclusion. If he could drive a wedge between them by saying nothing at all, he was not to blame; clearly their relationship was tense enough without his active sabotage.

"You're right," he said instead, to Skoll's final accusatory remark, tone easy in comparison to Skoll's tightly-strung manner. A wound spring waiting to uncoil. "So what brings you out here?"

(This post was last modified: Mar 17, 2016, 10:42 AM by Craw.)

...but she was etched into me like stone

Something like disappointment skittered across his dark face as he continued to watch Craw, still mentally grasping for anything he might immediately learn through posture or sound. The wheezing was one thing and so were the brute's choice of words, but Skoll yearned to know if he could stand a chance against the bulkier man if it came to a challenge or a petty dispute that advanced far beyond shuffling about and jaw sparring. The scowl remained, his assumptions sinking in that @Morganna had been busy and, while she had meant to meet with him tonight, she had asked someone else to check on her brother.

"This area is part of my rounds," his tone was still tense, realizing all too clearly now that he ought to be careful - guarded. He might have fancied himself a clever wordsmith, but with those who kept his sister dear, he knew by experience just how easily the tables turned. "Not sure if you've noticed, but I uphold the Night Watch when everyone else is asleep. Figured a quick dip in the water would wake me up a bit."

There was something too unsettling in the way Craw remained relaxed; it was almost as if he knew something that Skoll did not. @Morganna might have warned Craw about him, but something like was usually the very thing that set others on edge. The prince's eyes went back to the water, "If my sister sent you, I've nothing to report. Everything is fine."

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health

The answer was, in an of itself, innocent enough; Craw did nothing to interrupt Skoll's defense. He just stood there and watched. He did not know this precarious Archer well enough to truly see if he was getting under the man's skin or not, though he fancied that there was plenty of tension in the younger man's posture and words. There was plenty to question of Skoll's answer, and Craw was prepared to carry on poking at the man until he decided it was enough, but then the paranoia regarding Morganna made its second appearance, and Craw just snorted.

He weighed up the benefits of continuing to allow Skoll to believe that he was here on orders from his sister with those of admitting that, no, he was here entirely of his own free will. Would that be enough to put the precious little prince even more on edge? At least while he thought that his sister was ultimately responsible, he would feel safe in the knowledge that, surely, she would never hurt him... but Craw was still a relative stranger in this game, and they were a little far from home.

Letting Skoll think this was Morganna's play would suffice for now, but Craw would still not explicitly confirm it. Just how much paranoia could he squeeze out of the boy?

"I'm sure everyone is so comforted to know you protect us all on these cold, dark nights," he rasped, ear twitching out to the side as he turned his head to fix Skoll with a different, gleaming eye, "even including so far north just on your regular rounds. How thorough."

...but she was etched into me like stone

"I'm sure everyone is so comforted to know you protect us all on these cold, dark nights," Craw went on again. Skoll wasn't so sure anymore if he could trust himself to keep his cool. Spider-face looked at him now, and it was taking all of Skoll's energy not to be unnerved or intimidated, most especially after the second part of his observation. It had to be a lie; the last he checked, he was so sure that most of Willow Ridge was wary and suspicious of him. He mentally gave Craw some leeway, though, the old man was more than likely not aware of what had happened between Willow Ridge and a pack that had once lived up north - the seemingly accidental pup-napping of Deacon Archer Lyall and the assumption that ultimately killed that pack's aging Leader.

"What else do you want?" he suddenly snapped, his patience being worn thin by his anxiety at last. He focused on that marred muzzle, those two molten gold eyes. His tail shouldn't have lashed out at the air at his heels, but they did... however, it was not out of insolence. Skoll merely did not appreciate the company tonight - particularly that of the chum who had taken up a spot at Morganna's side and ear. "I've given you what information I have, Guard." The little bit of acknowledgement was meant to be one that showed Skoll's leveling with the brute, but with too much bite, it could have been taken as a sneer.

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

The carefully maintained confidence was starting to visibly crack, and Craw would have let the sickly sweet satisfied feeling creep onto his face if he hadn't thought it might be a touch too much. It would be of no worth to strain Skoll too much, for the test was to see how much anxiety he coukd wring from the Archer with only the barest of touches - and while he was certainly behaving antagonistically, nothing he had said had been that bad. With different tones of voice, the words of their conversation could become completely harmless, amiable, even.

But this was not so. Skoll snapped at him, wanting to cut through the bullshit that Craw was using to idly toy with him, and finally that dark smile did break free. It would be the only communicated answer to the question, for Craw was not about to let Skoll know his intentions, and watching the dark prince wind himself up over things Craw did not say was far more informative.

The night-scout spat out a dismissal, an attempt to cut the interaction short. Fine. Bowing his head with mocking exaggeration, Craw took a step back and to the side, acquiescing to Skoll this personal space. "Yes," he wheezed quietly, yellow eyes gleaming before they turned away, his paws leading back the way they had first come, "you have."

exit unless stopped/spoken to <3

...but she was etched into me like stone

It seemed that Skoll had gotten his point across, that he wanted the older man to leave him well alone and stop talking to him so that he could enjoy solitude in the dead of night. The bowing of spider-face's head made the Archer's muzzle wrinkle up in disdain. Wherever Morganna had found this wheezy, seemingly-tired geezer, he hoped she would send him back from whence he came. He wasn't sure if it was something in his presence or the way he spoke or, simply, not knowing just how much Craw knew about him. Either way, Skoll was glad when he finally saw those cunning eyes rove away and he moved back into the shadows, blending in as much as his ashen pelt would allow before the prince could not longer see him in-between the trees.

For a long while, the Trickster sat with both of his ears facing forward as he kept his eyes glued to the tree line, watching and waiting to see if he could discern whether or not the Guard had thought to spy. Minutes then actual moments passed, followed by an actual realization that he was being much too paranoid than he was personally allowed to be. Morganna... sending some creep to keep an eye on her brother... He finally shrugged the thought away. Ridiculous!

He scoffed at how he was behaving, as if the physical act of jeering at himself would snap him back to reality. A shake of his pelt and he, too, was off, striding along the Creek with his paws in the water, wanting to keep his trail as undetectable as possible. If anything, he was going to do a bit of espionage himself and figure out what the rest of the Ridge had been up to while he had been holed up with his beloved "mate"...

(Fade.)

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away