Honeyed Pasture the unexpected turn

 

@Coelacanth @Stockholm <3!

 

Hemlock could make her trips out to explore the world a little longer each time, this time cutting through to the Honeyed Pasture. It was still so cold, bitterly so, and Hemlock was grateful for their little paradise in the forest. It was warmer there without all of the snow and ice that seemed to have swept up the rest of the world. The pasture was white as far as the eye could see. In the distance though, Hemlock knew that the sea was there and beyond it, the island that they had left. 

She drew in a deep breath only to let it out slowly, the fogging of her breath marking the bitter cool of the temperature. The more she thought about it the more she longed to go back, the more that she thought that leaving might have been a mistake. Without leaving, she didn't think they would have sustained themselves and the children would have suffered for it - in the end, she had to trust that things had worked out just as they were meant to. She was grateful for the midday sun as it warmed her back, the missing fur on her scars only making it worse. If she had to give advice to someone, she'd tell them - don't get ripped into by a cougar. 

At the beginning of the season Stockholm had held concerns about how he and Coelacanth would fare, and where they would go. This land was unfamiliar to him and he was uncertain of what to expect from the weather and availability of prey animals. He would be the first one to admit that his time spent amongst humans had made him soft. But the winter hardened him, thickened his coat, trained his senses to the wilderness again.

The air still held a harsh chill, but his internal clock told him that they were on the upswing – the days were growing longer, and before too long the weather would warm, the snow would recede. It was only a matter of time before they crossed the ocean again back to the island; their island.

He watched Seelie as she dashed ahead of him, frolicking in the powdery snow. Sometimes he wondered where she got all that energy from. She was like a perpetual motion machine, taking twice as many steps as he did in a day. And though a good portion of his focus remains on her and her antics, he never completely lets his guard down, always aware of his surroundings – which is how he catches a distantly familiar scent carried on the cool breeze.

The Gampr pauses, draws in another breath and gives a soft chuff to Seelie to draw her attention. He knew that scent, didn’t he? He sweeps his gaze across the broad expanse of the pasture and the turning gears in his head click into place when he spots the brilliant red coat in the distance. Hemlock. He did not know her well, they never really had a chance to become acquainted, but he remembered her and her family coming across from the mainland to seek refuge on the shores of Wheeling Gull Island.

One of the many individuals he wondered about, worried about how things had turned out for them when he and Seelie returned to find the island empty. So without hesitation, he plows through the snow to cross the clearing to greet her, “Hemlock!”

@Faeryn, @Komodo, and @Sirimiri can get in on this if they want to, also!

Slicking her tufted ears back against her narrow skull, Coelacanth buried her face in a partially melted snowbank, dainty forepaws following suit as she dug her way toward an interesting scent. Her entire body wriggled with glee as, moments later, her blunt claws struck something too yielding to be stone. What she’d found was the partially scavenged carcass of some ungulate — she couldn’t tell what it was, but it smelled delicious and had been well-preserved in the cold. Feverishly now, she continued to dig, pulling large quantities of ice and slush with vigorous scoops of her spindly forelimbs. She had a growing taste for warm-blooded fare that seemed to intensify the longer they were made to forage along the coast. Closing her eyes, she faceplanted into the snow a second time, pert pink tongue poking forward to lap ardently at a thawing stalactite of blood.

“Hemlock!”

As one, Seelie’s caracal-like ears pricked atop her head, and she was off and running before she could really see clearly. Literally snowblinded, she collided with Stockholm’s fluffy rump as he began plowing through the snow — not that she minded! With snowflakes clinging to her lashes, she nibbled at his hip and leapt like a dolphin in his wake, arriving only a few moments late to greet the fiery woman with the vibrant emerald eyes. Her feathered tail waved, though her Neptune eyes looked expectantly about. Where were the puppies? Where was Arturo? “Witchdoctor” had never really caught on for the Groenendael, who found the Fearghal Ceannasach terrifying enough just as he was, thank you very much. She had only ever known the male as intimidating, even though her first memory of him was actually quite genial. Nose quivering, she moved toward Hemlock without fear, sniffing delicately at her shoulder as she got reacquainted. From the smell of things, the wisewoman was still traveling with her two little ones, the two adolescents, the one adult male.

Perhaps they would like to return to the island, too! Coelacanth’s tail whipped against her hocks as she turned to Stockholm, her bright cerulean eyes beseeching him — but her attention was captured anew by the Kali woman. She had never really been close with Hemlock, too intimidated by the puppies and their sire, but she loved the woman as she had loved all of the seawolves.

 

Someone approached. Hemlock froze and considered her options - she could do a few things, after all, leave or face them and draw them out and further away from the children. But she froze. She drew in a deep breath as she tried to test the scents on the wind that she could but the snow muddled the world around her. She didn't like it much, never had, and she could not wait for spring to break the biting grip of winter. 

The sudden approach of another made her bristle; at least until the unusual duo appeared and her green eyes went wide. "Stockholm? Coelacanth?" How - why - well, anyways here they were too and that might have been some sort of divine comedic thing. She forced her hackles to smooth and looked between them. "I did not expect to find you two here." She admitted curiously. 

The Gampr’s tail sweeps back and forth at her recognition. It does his heart good to see that she looks well, and if scent is anything to go by she is with others, including her young ones. He had feared the worst for all of the seawolves for a long time, and laid that blame and guilt solely upon himself. But layer by layer he was shedding that heavy weight upon his shoulders.

“Oh, well – we’re seeing how far we have to walk before Seelie turns completely into a snowball.” He flashes her a grin and flicks his gaze to Seelie; it was admittedly amusing the way the snow seemed to cling to her feathery fur in little snowballs. It was worse on the warmer days when the sun shone, making the snow particularly sticky. Today was cooler, and the snow was more powdery than anything and less likely to cling to her, but he still thought it was a good joke.

He doesn’t miss the pleading look the sheepdog casts his way, but first things first. “How are you? Your family…?”

Coelacanth observed the exchange between Hemlock and Stockholm with keen interest and not a little impatience, though this manifested itself in a few prancing steps and nothing more. She was pleased to be remembered by the fiery she-wolf whose brilliant malachite eyes appeared a bit shell-shocked, and oddly eager to see how her tiny children had grown. Reed and Droman had been the first puppies to be born on Wheeling Gull Isle since Seelie had known it, and she could not help but wish Hemlock would bring them back to the shores of their birth. Stockholm’s teasing quip was greeted with a mock-growl, a flash of alabaster cutlery; then, in a completely unladylike manner, she nipped up a mouthful of fresh snow and boofed it in his general direction.

 

Hemlock followed the inclination to look at Coelacanth when she was mentioned, a little smile gracing her features as she pictured the dark girl encapsulated by snow. How long indeed would it take? Stockholm's drawn out question brought a small hum of consideration to her lips, they were, and weren't, fine. "I endure -  "Hemlock said candidly, meeting both their gazes one and then the other. "The children are good, though. We have made camp in Neverwinter Forest, but...." She trailed off for a moment as her viridian gaze swept past the pair and towards where she knew the shore was. "I had considered returning now that the weather is becoming more favorable.."  Especially if it meant the children would be safer. 

Stockholm is silently pleased that his quip garners a small smile from Hemlock and the wrinkle of Seelie’s muzzle, and he has to fight to keep a straight face when Seelie scoops up a mouthful of snow to send in his general direction – pointedly ignoring the gesture just to see how far she will escalate. This was fun.

His ears perk when Hemlock mentions returning to the island without either of them having to prompt it. He tends not to put much regard into the notion of gods or fate, but this is one of those moments that does kind of stick out with an inclination towards ‘meant to be’. “We are planning the same once we reach the coast, you and your family are more than welcome to travel with us. It would be an honor to have you all back on the island.”

I like how Seelie is basically useless throughout this entire interaction. The attention span of an eight-week-old puppy and the fortitude of a feather duster.

He ignored her!

He dared — how dare —

Disbelief was writ plainly upon the sheepdog’s delicate features, her Neptune eyes offering one pronounced blink in tandem with a shocked little skyward flick of her finely-tapered muzzle. One forepaw curled and struck the earth like the feeble stamp of a miniature pony foal, so taken aback was she by her mate’s audacity! — and her tufted ears strained forward upon her skull as though to question, “Excuse me?” — but she tamed her theatrics when Hemlock began to speak, deciding with grand [and ostentatious] magnanimity to forgive Stockholm. She wouldn’t bite him.

This time.

The idea that Hemlock might come back with them was a heartening one, and Coelacanth, for all her silliness, sobered to cross the distance that separated them. Unsure as to whether Hemlock would allow physical contact, she made herself small, reaching out one catlike paw in an attempt to have the tips of her toes just barely graze the Kali woman’s. Feathered banner waving invitingly, “We are here for you,” she sought ardently to convey through her gesture and a whispering whine.

 

Hemlock wasn't surprised to hear that they had intentions to reclaim the island. She had viewed it as a fortress and had sought it was a refuge for her family. Now that her band had distinctly diminished she was nervous both about keeping her lingering children in line and making sure that they had plenty of supplementation through their educations and growth. When Stockholm offered for them to travel together Hemlock's tail swayed pleasantly behind her. "We would welcome the company." She admitted with a breathy laugh. "And no doubt the children will talk your ears off." She said as she glanced back towards the forest she'd left behind. 

When Coelacanth approached Hemlock stilled; she was just as nervous even though she liked the girl a touch of Lotte's ferocity had rubbed off on her. She was very protective of those she considered her own, and, the dark sprite had fallen into that fold somewhere along the line. When she was touched so gently Hemlock extended her muzzle, touching briefly to Seelie's dark temple before she drew back. "We could go gather the children - unless you would rather we meet up again later?" She didn't want to interrupt after all. 

Stockholm is immensely pleased by the minor tantrum Seelie throws, the stamping of her feet into the snow particularly amusing to the Gampr. Oh, he’ll pay for this later, he is sure. But it will be well worth it.

He watches the exchange between Hemlock and Seelie with a soft smile, and when Hemlock asks if they should gather the children or meet up later his answer is automatic; “Let’s go get them, we can go together. I’m sure they have some great tales to tell.” He is, after all, a guardian at heart. He would much rather escort the family to the island shores himself than leave them. Though it is obvious they have done well on their own, and there is no greater protector than a mother to her children, it is just in his instinct to look after others. “They must be growing like weeds at this stage, hm?” He doesn’t have a ton of experience with puppies, but he does find them enjoyable, and he finds himself looking forward to meeting them. He lets Hemlock lead the way, casting a look at Seelie and giving her a playful grin.