Swift River you got a slurpee for free

For @Stella~

January 31st; Midnight; Light Snow; 14.61 ° F, -9.7 ° C

The moon was almost full and with the Lore covered in a fresh, thin blanket of snow, Oleander could not sleep. Through the grey storm clouds, the uneven disc in the sky illuminated the world in a way only a wild animal could see. If the Sand Wolf would not come, then the gold-eyed man would wander. Anything to tire himself out.

To the east, his paws carried him past pack borders and beyond the Swift River. For the first time in a long while, the mountains beckoned. Boulders seemed to emerge underfoot the further he meandered. Eventually, they grew smooth, worn from wind, water and time as Oleander found the Swift River. In and around the rushing stream, they donned little snow caps. Minuscule mountains in their own right when viewed at ground level.

The wolf shook the snow from his brow and ears before giving his shoulders a good shrug. For now, there was nothing. Only him, the empty pack lands with an untold history, and his insomnia...

Stella had taken to wandering further again of late, especially with late winter holding strong and children still missing from the Cove. Tired legs and worn paws could not fully soothe the Vuesain girl's mind, but they helped some.

Things were tenuous and the wolves from the Chasm did not bring good news with them, though they were welcomed all the same. She spent more time out on the borders, especially up at the cairnstones. They afforded a good view of the passes by the mountain lake, and she could find some peace there, talking to the wind. Today though, her scouting had taken her down the western flank of the mountain instead, following the creeks and rills ever downward as they gradually became a river. Perhaps Feyre or Star had done the same, she thought.

Navigating the icy banks with their uneven rocks and twists and turns was more time consuming than expected. She had almost forgotten the way the land could swallow you up down here. Day slipped into night as she searched the serpentine valleys. The shadows of each tree and stone stood out against the stark blue-white glow of the snow beneath the rising crescent moon, and the quiet seemed to amplify further. Still, she did not turn back toward home. She couldn't, she hadn't found anything yet.

With a huff, Stella pushed on just a little further, round another bend in the river. She was greeted with the sight not of the missing kin she sought, but rather another yearling pale as the snow all around. She paused, blinking at him for a moment. "Oh, hello," her voice was hesitant, had they met before? It felt like something from another life.

"Oh, hello." The greeting had come as a surprise. Most especially at this hour of the night when most creatures were tucked away in their dreams. Wide eyes and tall ears swept across the spaces between the trees. It didn't take long to find her there. A sleek, lupine face with a dark, prominent mask and flaxen coat.

It had been half a year since they had first met and, yet, Oleander could not help but think this all felt unfamiliar. A slight lift of his chin told her of his assurance in himself, something his younger self did not possess. They were yearlings still, but closer now to the cusp of adulthood than ever. He was not about ready to shy and run away as he did last time. It was hard to forget one with such comely patterning.

"Hello," he hailed. The whole of his body stood tall and alert, but at his back, his tail remained lax. She seemed smaller than he remembered. "S-Stella, right?" His left ear turned backward as he second-guessed himself.

they say pray it away, i swear,
OLEANDER VALLE
that I'll never be a saint, no way

Stella tipped an ear toward him as he seemed to search the darkness, his gaze finding her quickly enough there among the shadows. As she approached, recollection sparked in her mind. A dawn-like smear of color dominated the brief memory, and for all the brevity of it it was a moment of color in a time her world had turned dark. There really wasn't much more too it than that, though it brought a hint of a smile to her features.

"Yes," she answered. He remembered her name. She noted how he stood, keeping her own stance loose and letting her tail give a slow wag. This wasn't her home, though she was sure of herself on any ground she was also tired and bedraggled, suddenly aware of it in a way she was not used to at all.

"I don't think I got your name before, though?" she asked, coming to stand a short distance away. Stella's hint of a smile warmed and brightened, and though it was the middle of the night things seemed slightly less dark for a moment.  

"Yes," she confirmed. Inside, he released the breath he had been keeping captive in his chest. She came closer. His jaw jumped and he inhaled as smoothly as he could manage.

"Oleander," he smiled. The tail behind him lifted a little. The butterflies that had emerged during their previous meeting had returned. "Um," his words threatened to fail him. A small chuckle bubbled from his chest, a means to shrug off the nervousness in the face of the opposite gender. One very pretty girl.

Seconds passed and it was already too late to tack his surname to his first name. He made a conscious decision to move onto a different topic, "I've seen you before-" Wow. Such a genius observation. "Do you live nearby? My family's jus' along the creek that-a way." He gestured with a tilt of his head to the side, somewhere to the northwest.

they say pray it away, i swear,
OLEANDER VALLE
that I'll never be a saint, no way

Oleander, it was a nice name, she thought. Fitting for the white wolf who wore the scent of empress trees and wetland plants.

The clouds overhead shifted, casting a pale light over the area. She was reminded why she'd come here in the first place, why her search had worn on long into the night. His words only underscored such thoughts, so much had happened since her memory of their last meeting. Had his life been quiet by comparison, or as eventful as her own?

She was too much in her own head, as was usual these days. "Yeah, kinda. I'm from the Cove, up the mountain," she explained, figuring if he was kin to the backwater wolves he'd probably know about their allies too, and there was no need for overly formal introductions.

"I was looking for my lil' sisters, they wandered off," she explained with a trace of hope that was truly the case. Star and Feyre would be alright, they had to be.... "Runs in the family I guess," she had to admit with a laugh of her own.

Stella was from close by. The Cove, the pack he had refused to take part in as an 'exchange' pup. His cheeks burned just thinking about the time lost in getting to know her.

"Ah," he hummed in response. Then she let him know that she had been searching for her little sisters. Wandered off. Her laugh put a little light on the matter, though, and he smiled.

"Well, that... sucks."

It was a typical adolescent reply accompanied by one of his charmed smiles. "I hope you find 'em soon." It was the least he could say. "But, I can help ya in the meantime... that is..." A note of bashfulness was creeping into the tone of his words. "That is if you'd like, anyway?" There was a subtle tilt of his head and the lifting of his paw. A genuine pitch. If their packs were allies, it was only proper.

they say pray it away, i swear,
OLEANDER VALLE
that I'll never be a saint, no way