Heartleaf Creek glowing in the dark

Partly Cloudy — Current Temperature: 43° F/6° C @Lachesis

He'd taken all the necessary steps to pass as much of Cedarwood Forest as possible as he made his way from Secret Woodlands to Heartleaf Creek. In the past, he'd enjoyed the towering trees and the way they smelled, how much different they were than the tangled, ancient ones that wove the thicket together. But after he'd lost Rabbit, well...Mirren found that he didn't really care for the place anymore. Everything about it reminded him of her, from the texture of the dirt between his creamy toes to the shape of the bark on the trees. The silvered girl was long gone from his life, but her memory would always live on in his mind and in the cedar forest. As the tawny boy slipped quietly through the creek's waters, shallow and chilling where he passed, he couldn't help but to be put off by the way he'd been reminded of her. His jaws clenched tightly together as he looked for anything to distract him, or, more importantly, help him focus on his aim─tracking. The deer herd he'd hunted in the blackberry field had been substantial and had piqued his interest in locating other sources of food as they slowly returned to Relic Lore. Testing the air with a flick of his tongue, the masked boy's ears flattened in a moment of frustration. "Fuck." Was there really nothing here? The place smelled like vermin, the scurrying kind that were better suited for killing than for actually eating, but as far as true prey went, nothing. Not one to be so easily derailed from a task, Mirren resigned to continue along. Eventually he would find something, right? If not, home wasn't far.

thank you for starting! <3

Every time he ventured to the Creek memories of his time spent as a loner with Anastasia would resurface. Initially making a temporary home farther north at the spring, the pair had ventured south and stayed within the creek territory for several weeks. This was also where he had meant Reaper, the infamous, and now absent, loner that Ana had been so found of. Even now, despite both of their disappearances, XIX was relieved that Reaper had left before he was able to form his cult-pack-thing. His blue-eyed dove, who refused to see the bad in any wolf, had been fooled by his charming words; if the Arctic male had not left the lands of Relic Lore Lachesis knew that his companion would have followed the loner wherever he went.

Giving his head a shake, the long-legged boy pressed forward, his nose hovering inches above the ground as he searched for plants to bring back to his den. Spring was arriving, sooner than XIX had realized, and he was not prepared. The snow had lingered too long, making it impossible to stock his inventory as all the plants he needed were buried beneath the cold substance. He had only been able to pull medicinal bark from trees, but that would only get him so far – he needed real herbs.

His venture, however, was cut short as the scent of another pulled him away from his search. His nostrils wrinkled as the foreign scent hit him, his brows narrowing as he searched for the source. It was not a wolf, or pack, he was familiar with. He knew the pack’s scent, but not by name – he wasn’t sure if they were allies or enemies. A frown creased his maw, and although he wanted to turn away and return to his search, his long legs carried him in the direction of the stranger. He didn’t speak, nor did he make his presence obvious; he simply observed, curious as to what the stranger was doing.

stick with those who stick with you

No problem :3

Squirrel. Snow. Squirrel. Dirt. Bird. It was absolutely ridiculous. Normally, the budding young Tainn wouldn't have had any issues with a situation like this one, where his compounding lack of success was becoming increasingly irritating, but he just couldn't stay focused. "Heh-low," she'd said. "Could-ah-go backwityou?" she'd said. "Share with me, please?" she'd said. And, like a puppy, he'd obliged her every want and need. Sure. I'll take you. Let's go. You're gonna do great. Don't be scared. A wretched scowl wrapped itself across his dark face. He'd gotten what he'd deserved for not thinking twice, hadn't he. It was a horrible lesson, but even in his brooding he knew that it was a necessary one. He'd never make that mistake again─not that he'd really ever have to. Kite was forever. Then it hit him like a slap in the face. The smell of vermin was sharply overridden by none other than that damned cedar scent, on a wolf at that. It made the fur along his nape stand on end, saliva slowly pooling in the back of his throat. As if this day couldn't get any worse already. Mirren didn't know who he'd find when he went looking, but it didn't stop him from heading straight toward the origin of the scent with no reservations, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing in the first place as he took his first step. Random patches of snow crunched beneath his weight, his paws squishing through the mud that otherwise covered most of the forest floor. His golden eyes were wide as they scanned between the trees in every direction, his posture flexed as his black-tipped tail stuck straight out behind him. The yearling stomped onward for only a short time before stopping dead in his tracks. He wasn't alone. "Show yourself."

Lachesis didn’t like strangers. It had always been Anastasia that had forced him to meet other wolves and attempt to make friends. Without her, the slender healer was a recluse; he didn’t want to meet others. He didn’t want to make friends. He wanted to be alone.

Unfortunately wolves seemed to flock to the troubled youth; he was a magnet for unwanted conversation.

He stayed at a distance, lingering in the shadows of the trees, as he observed the yearling through narrowed brows. An inner dialogue debated feverishly inside his skull – approach the stranger or quickly disappear into the safety of the trees? He needed to stock his inventory and perhaps find some food to bring back to the pack. A frown creased his dark lips as he slithered up to a tree, his thin body pressed against its trunk as he watched the younger male’s movements. He was definitely being a creep, and XIX was completely aware of how creepy he was being, but he was only being cautious. What if there were more of his pack lurking around, disguising their scents with the mud and prepping for an attack?

You’re being ridiculous, Lach… He gave his head a quick shake as the irritated thought entered his mind, his mental voice scolding him for his actions. He needed to leave – and quickly.

‘Show yourself.’

Shit.

He remained where he was, frozen against the tree as he struggled to come up with some sort of plan. Running seemed like an obvious choice – even from a distance Lachesis could tell that his legs were much longer than the other male’s. XIX knew that if it came to running away he could easily outrun the other. Perhaps he could have a bit of fun before he decided to flee the scene and return to the river. With his side pressed to the tree he continued to observe the yearling as he paused. “Don’t really feel like it,” he called out as a response before shuffling to another tree, his body pressed to the ground as he moved with a willowy grace.

stick with those who stick with you

Well aware of the presence of another, the Tainn's amber gaze cast sharply about, searching through the trunks of the trees for a flash of fur or the gleam of a set of eyes. His brows knitted together in a hard line, his ears pressing forward before swiveling to and fro and he ignored the palpable beat of his heart in every vein in his body. Mirren wasn't really aware of what had gotten into him─all he knew was that he'd repressed his hurt and anger and the injustice he felt for long enough, bottling it up, that he felt like he could explode. The last thing he needed now was to run across someone bigger, more experienced, or with a bad boy attitude more grandiose than his own, but he didn't care. All he was really aware of was the cedar smell that stung his black nose and the way it reminded him of her, and the fact that someone was close enough to know he was here. "Don't really feel like it," a voice called. His head snapped in its direction, his body as still as winter's ice. The boy's chest rose and fell in meager motions, the shallow breaths he pulled in cool in comparison to the heat in his face and the flickering shades of red in his eyes. "You'd rather linger about in the shadows like an asshole?" The hard expression on his face dissolved as a dark smirk instantly took its place. He could play this game. "Come on," he returned, stepping carefully toward the origin of the voice, "─where's the fun in that?" BRING IT ON, MAN.

For the first time in what seemed like forever Lachesis was actually having fun. His confidence, although recently diminished, had grown since he had first arrived in Relic Lore. The blue-eyed dove he had traveled with had helped the slender, awkward youth break free of his shell during their time together. Now that she was gone he had fallen back into his former self, but the improved Lachesis was still always present.

He remained where he was, his tall body hovering inches above the ground as he hid from the tawny stranger. A sly, crooked grin was permanently etched across his maw, unwavering as he studied the movements of the younger male. He shuffled back, his willowy body moving with ease as he switched trees once more, his pale gaze never once leaving the yearling’s body. XIX knew he couldn’t hide forever – soon the stranger would find him, and it probably wouldn’t end well.

“But I am an asshole,” he joked in response, his tone light as he maneuvered around the tree trunk. That wasn’t true, of course, as Lachesis didn’t have an ‘asshole’ bone in his body, but this wolf didn’t know that. That was the only thing he liked about meeting new wolves – depending on their demeanor Lachesis could put on any persona he wanted to. It was a chance for him to develop and round out his confidence without revealing how much of a pansy he actually was. Being outside the Reserve and in the wild allowed Nineteen to become the wolf he was supposed to be – if it had not been for Pyrrhus forcing him to leave he would still be stuck behind the fence that confined his family.

Without a second thought, the long-legged youth sprung forward, purposely missing the tawny Woodlands wolf. He landed several paws lengths away, his forelegs stretched out before him.

Well, now what?

stick with those who stick with you

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

No more waits <3

Come out, come out, wherever you are. As if it wasn't bad enough that he couldn't keep his shit together over that girl, now his objectives for the day were quickly turning to tatters, shredded up and littering the forest floor. The voice in the trees affirmed what he'd already presumed to deduce─that whoever this guy was, he was definitely a jerk off─but hearing the words only fed his arrogantly selfish desire to rip someone a new one. "No shit! YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING WITH THE WRONG─"Just when he was about to come up with something witty and horrible to say, and as he closed in on the asshole's location, his mysterious counterpart leaped right out past him like a wildling. Spinning to face the stranger, Mirren was much too focused on the red to ascertain much of a first impression, other than that he was pale and a younger fellow, with a rather willowy appearance. In fact, the Tainn was nearly caught off guard by the immediate physical differences between the two of them. Where Mirren was tall and long, brawny and dark-featured, the boy he faced was somewhat lanky, a pristine white, with immediately-noticeable oversize paws and striking yellow-green eyes. He certainly was not the roughened scoundrel Mirren had expected. However, despite the fact that the asshole was relatively good looking and well-kept, the ghostly boy wasn't going to blow smoke up this Tainn's ass without some repercussion. The tawny yearling sprung into action, his wide jaws opening to unleash a nasty snarl as he closed most of the small distance between them. Using his size to his immediate advantage, Mirren tucked his chin protectively and made to barrel his weight into the white boy's shoulder, which, if successful, could knock him off his feet or at minimum shake him up a bit.

It seemed as though both wolves were shocked to see the other. Lachesis could only imagine what kind of impression he gave – a thin, gangly wolf perched atop long, deer-like legs with a rather ghoulish complexion. He was definitely nothing to be frightened of; the opposite, really. The tawny male before him was not what the healer had expected. He looked as though he was the same age as XIX, perhaps slightly younger but it was always difficult for the Cut Rock wolf to guesstimate ages. Where Lachesis had height on his side, the Woodlands male had brawn; however, he was not interested in fighting. The slender male preferred to avoid fighting at all costs, but a bit of rough-housing wasn’t out of the question. It could potentially be good for the quiet, willowy healer.

He continued to silently observe the other mail, waiting {im}patiently for some sort of retaliation. His limbs were loose, ready to sprint away if needed, as his claws dug into the soil beneath them. The wait didn’t take long – without warning, the tawny stranger darted forward. XIX attempted to shuffle out of the way, but was a second too late; the other wolf hit his shoulder, causing the lanky healer to stumble back. An unexpected growl rumbled out of his chest, his pale gaze narrowed as he re-adjusted his weight. Taking a step back, the slender youth lunged forward, his gaze focused on the stranger’s shoulders, but his body aiming for his legs in order to knock them out from beneath the Woodlands yearling.

stick with those who stick with you