Edge Stone Pool i will fly with no hope, no fear

@Cottongrass | morning, sunny

Since delivering herbs to the Rye wolves the ghost had avoided the lowlands, keeping to the Kingswood and seldom venturing south to the lake he was so fond of. XIX maintained the borders and checked for loners often but he did not pass the tree line. Instead he observed from afar, his chartreuse gaze scrutinizing the monadnock in the distance and the stretch of tundra that separated the river wolves from the fields. Since the arrival of puppies the north had grown quiet; it appeared the northern packs were keeping to themselves while tending to their young. Prey had returned, filling the tundra with an abundance of food—enough for all the packs. For now, he thought glumly to himself as he maneuvered over the barren ground, his long legs carrying him quickly over the terrain. Once the colder months returned the prey would disperse once more, seeking the warmth that the tundra did not provide. XIX hoped that their increase in numbers would not effect them in the long run.

Part of his excursion was to see if he could catch wind of Lorcán. After being absent for a few days Lachesis assumed that the tawny healer had gone in search of plants, for the warmer weather had brought a wave of fresh herbs into the Lore. Or perhaps he had gone to scout for herds as a pack hunt was long over-due—especially with the puppies nearing the age that they could accompany the adults on hunts (or at least observe them). However, as the absence increased, Lachesis grew worried. It was unlike the healer to disappear for long. At first XIX feared that he had returned to the monadnock, but he quickly dismissed that theory. Lorcán had been very vocal on why he had chosen to leave—there was no reason for him to return. Had something happened between him in a packmate that he was unaware of? He frowned and his concern deepened.

The ghost stopped by the pool to rehydrate, his tongue greedily lapping up the cool water. The morning air was cool on his back, but he knew it would not last. The sun was slowly creeping up into the sky and with few clouds in sight, Lachesis knew that temperatures would soon rise.

stick with those who stick with you

He liked to imagine that he was something of an adventurer. One that had witnessed enough strange events in the world to not be horribly naive. Because he witnessed magpie and muskox attacks firsthand. And then there was the time he almost met the qalupalik and the one time he actually did meet a monster in the form of a meat-eating deer. He knew things about the world around him.

But the one thing he apparently didn't know was about weird holes in the ground. The kind that seemed to appear out of nowhere and stretch wide enough for there to be plant life and water down below. It was sort of life discovering a whole new planet that nobody else had yet to touch. And while a part of his brain acknowledged the fact that he could smell the scent of a stranger lurking nearby he paid it no heed. That would ruin his immersion as he explored new depths unknown to wolf. Behind him his tail wagged and he followed his nose with slow, shuffling steps. The scent lead him to what looked like a natural staircase if he knew what that was in the first place.

Impulse said to ignore the obvious route down and just jump, what's the worst that could happen. But then he remembered how he watched as Victoria disappeared into the ground with a shriek on her lips and he decided against that idea. He refused to touch his emotions for her with a ten foot pole but he didn't need his heart to know that it was a harrowing moment. The kind he didn't want to repeat with only himself. So he settled for awkwardly hopping down rocky ledges with blunt nails clicking away. He sort of forgot about the fact that the only reason he found the place was because he smelled someone nearby. But he figured he would be okay because who didn't like getting cornered in random pits by wolves they didn't know?

It wasn't his brightest moment and he didn't even know it as he took another leap down to another ledge.

Except something in the world must have shifted because instead of his paws landing on solid rock his entire body landed on solid ground. Like he missed the last few ledges completely before gravity took hold and pulled him down with a jarring thud. The kind that he was all too familiar with because he fell a lot. Enough to know that he was definitely bruised and would be feeling it for a few days. He didn't bother moving. Not even when his yellow eyes settled on the form of a stranger lost in thought. Instead his tail gave a sheepish wag in the air behind him because every accident that happened to him always involved someone else witnessing it.

He wondered how much abuse his body could take before something truly tragic happened to his accident-prone self. The answer would probably surprise him. He didn't know whether it would be good surprise or bad surprise. Either way Cottongrass remained on the cold ground with his paws pinned beneath his body while he offered a wagging tail. Like he absolutely meant to slam into the ground instead of descend gracefully into the shaded pit.

Reclining from the stream of water at his paws a frown appeared on his damp lips as his eyes sought out the monadnock in the distance. There was a possibility that the tawny healer had returned to Whitestone but it was unlikely. Lorcán had expressed his displeasure about the change in leadership so it did not make sense for him to return. Unless something else had pulled him back, demanding his presence. His frown deepened. If his absence was that simply surely he would have sought Lachesis out, for the ghost was under the impression that they had a good relationship.

Which was why his departure was so troubling. Lorcán was of sound mind so it was not possible for him to get turned around unless he injured himself. As the length of his absence increased the possibility of the healer being injured was becoming more likely, as he refused to believe that the second would leave without a word.

He knew it was foolish to think that way, as he had been burned far too many times in the past, but Lachesis could not help it.

Thud!

The sound pulled the Stark way from his thoughts, causing his lips to pull back and his hackles to raise. Once he spotted the pale wolf sprawled across the ground his posture relaxed and the older male quickly adopted a confused expression; his brows pinched in concern. “Are you okay?” He called out, abandoning his worries temporarily as he focused his chartreuse stones on the clumsy stranger.

stick with those who stick with you

There is a rabbit's nest nearby. +1 Health

It took a few seconds for the stranger to notice him. But once they did it was with confusion sprawled across their features. It might have been humorous if he was anyone but himself. Except that wasn't the case. Instead his tail kept on wagging away in the air behind him and his only reaction was to give a hopeless smile. The kind that was a goofy mixture of pain and sheepishness because wow, there were rocks really digging into his chest but he didn't want to move and startle the man any more than he had to.

"Uh-huh." He chirped in response to their question. Because he really was okay! Just in an awkward position on the ground with his rear sticking in the air. And he was pretty sure there were rocks making their way towards his heart but he ignored that last thought. It wasn't important in the grand scheme of things. Especially when there were green eyes boring into the yellow of his own and he sort of felt all kinds of uncomfortable. He looked away only to scuttle onto his paws.

There might have been a wince at the soreness he could already feel developing in his battered front but he marched through it. He was good at new now that he was on his paws! His coat felt dirty so he shook it. And with one last glance from the stairs that betrayed him to the wolf that had found him—

"That happens a lot." He blurted out like falling from heights was a perfectly normal thing to do, especially around random strangers he found in mysterious pits. "'m fine." He went on to chirp for good measure while his tail gave a happy little wag behind him. Because they were probably worried he was hurt or something but he wasn't. Not really, anyway.

(But if they were going to offer compensation for his little misstep he wasn't going to complain...)

His yellow eyes gave an owlish blink at the man before him.

(This post was last modified: Jul 26, 2017, 09:41 PM by Cottongrass.)

~His brows were still narrowed in concern as the pale male responded, a cheerful chirp escaping his gangly body. There was no sign of injury—his flared nostrils detected no scent of blood—so perhaps the yellow-eyed stranger was fine after all. Concern still clawed at his chest, attempting to make a cozy home behind his ribs, but he did not protest the pale male’s words.

That happens a lot. His head tipped to the side, a lop-sided grin rolling onto his liquorice lips as he nodded solemnly in response. “Me too,” he offered as a quick response, his tail wagging gently behind him. Despite his long, willowy legs Lachesis was the least graceful wolf—especially when he had first arrived in the Lore. His anxiety and social awkwardness had caused him to fall flat on his face more times than he would care to admit. He was a little better now, for his long legs finally grew to match the rest of his body, but he was still clumsy.

Perhaps not as clumsy as the pale stranger, but close.

Upon further inspection Lachesis could smell the familiar wheaty scent of Wild Rye clinging to the younger male’s pelt. His ears twitched with interest, his grin widening. “You from the Fields?” He asked, aware and unbothered by the obvious answer. “Y’know Askan? Is he doing better?” His mate, Reyes, had informed Lachesis that he was slowly getting better when he had delivered medicinal herbs for Jessie. XIX had been curious of the ebony male’s health since he returned to the Kingswood, for he had been busy with five puppies and leadership duties that he had been unable to return to Wild Rye.

stick with those who stick with you

He didn't know if he felt excited or disappointed at the stranger's response to the situation. Because the solidarity was nice. Maybe they could be bad luck buddies or something if this first encounter ended on a positive note! But at the same time it meant that the other wolf readily accepted his answer of being fine. Which was okay! Really! He didn't actually like being poked and prodded while being asked somewhat invasive questions.

It was just that free food might have been nice after what happened...

But he supposed he couldn't have it all. He was still cursed with bad luck. That meant he didn't always get what he wanted after tumbling off of natural stairs into random pits. Behind him his tail wagged and his ear twitched. And when the stranger spoke and interrupted his thoughts, his head cocked.

"Huh?" The Fields and Askan. It seemed like everybody in the whole entire world knew about those two things and he was just the trigger for the memory. "Oh, yeah!" Maybe when he returned he would badger the wolf about it. Because three wolves asking about him was a lot. Especially when he was given no choice but to be the unofficial messenger.

"He's way better!" He finally chirped. His tail picked up speed in the air behind him. "Really back to being his old self." And he wondered how his friend was so popular among the northeast forest. Especially when said friend seemed to stick around pack territory and Reyes like tree sap. It was probably just one of those unsolvable mysteries the world had to offer.

(This post was last modified: Aug 01, 2017, 05:16 AM by Cottongrass.)

The pale stranger almost looked disappointed at Lachesis’ response, as though he had been expecting the ghost to say something different. His brows pursed slightly but he kept his tongue in check—he did not want to leave a bad impression on the Rye wolf. He was looking to build a relationship with his western neighbours, not prevent one from happening due to a bad experience with the clumsy male.

His tail wagged softly at the male’s response, his smile widening. It was good to hear that Askan was on the mend. Lachesis had been unable to return to the Fields with Reyes after providing him with herbs and instructions due to the impending arrival of Inna’s litter. He had promised the raven that he would be there for the birth of her first litter. No matter how badly he wanted to be there for his friend, he could not break his promise.

Really back to being his old self. An amused, lopsided smirk rolled onto his dark lips, his tail swaying gently behind him. “So you mean he’s back to being grumpy?” He offered with a soft laugh, his maw canted to the side. Truthfully he enjoyed the presence of the sharp-tongued Sewlyn. Along with Lorcán, the ebony male was the closest thing Lachesis had to a friend. Grumpy or not, the ghost enjoyed spending time with him—and not just because he was an excellent plant collector.

stick with those who stick with you

The response took him by surprise and he couldn't help but let out a hoot of laughter. One that he struggled to control even when he really wanted to. Because Askan was one of his best friends. The only other wolf he would ever call that was Reyes. But the Selwyn male really wasn't the world's most friendliest wolf. He just might have been the opposite of friendly when it came down to it. But he guessed there was an appeal in that.

(Not one that really made sense but an appeal, nonetheless.)

"I guess so." He chirped with a smile bright on his features. It was the kind that had his jaws parted in amusement while his tongue lolled out from in between pointed teeth. Behind him his tail wagged and with a hearty sight he spoke. "You know him well?" With the him in question being Askan. His yellow eyes sparked with curiosity while one of his ears twitched.

In his mind it was a good thing to ask. Because anyone who was familiar with Askan was probably a good person to hang out with. His friend seemed to have good taste when it came down to positive connections.

The male’s response earned a wide grin from the pale leader, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. The reaction was genuine and it was in that moment that Lachesis decided he liked the yellow-eyed wolf. He was a little peculiar but every creature had their own oddity. It would be unfair for XIX to judge the male before him based on his quirks.

Nodding softly in response to the younger male’s question, an ear twitching. “Well enough,” he mused, a crooked grin still perched effortlessly across his pale maw. “I had him help me collect herbs before summer arrived,” he added, curious as to whether the espresso-coloured male had gone on any other plant expeditions since their search for sweet grass. Lachesis was unsure if the western pack had acquired any healers in the recent months, for they had been without one prior to the birth of the Rye’s first litter. Lachesis did not mind helping his neighbours out with medical issues, but it took nearly three days to get to the rye-filled fields from the Kingswood. If time was an issue their situation was not ideal. He would not mind training one of their own in the medical field, if they were unable to obtain one, but that would be up to Jessie and Drestig to decide. 

 

stick with those who stick with you