Hushed Willows Quixote

Remembering had taken longer than healing. His body had reformed before his mind could, and Warbone had settled contently within a small nomadic assemblage before he could recollect his own identity. And it had come back without warning, as Rami— who had been calling him Quixote the last four months— called out to him and he bitterly corrected her on reflex. He would remember how shocked and hurt she looked in that moment for a long time to come. Assuming he was not again rendered injured to the point of amnesia.

Though suspecting Rami loved him, his heart cried for the willows too loudly. He howled at night, calling for anyone who might recognize his voice, but no song was ever returned and he realized that he was not in the same place anymore. The behemoth stayed, quiet for days as the memories trickled back and beaded up like dewdrops on the surface of his thoughts. Warbone eventually remembered what had happened to him, and this final anamnesis spurred him into leaving them.

---

He stood at the borders of the Hushed, pausing as the familiarity of his surroundings seemed to be  surrendering to the absence of familiar scents. He seemed to know what he was looking at, but could not comprehend how differently it smelled. Had his followers disbanded, leaving the willow trees to be claimed by another's stake? Where were Octavia's trails? What had happened to his Keep? He thought he recognized something about the most dominate border-mark, but could not bring any sort of conformation to this brainwork.

He did not look any different, besides the gory vacancy on the left side of face, but Warbone was not a wolf easily forgettable by any means. If anyone was here that would recognize him, his presence here could be legitimized. Lifting his chin, he sent out an unintentionally commanding howl for an audience, then waited beneath the half-clouded sun for someone to arrive.

i wasn't going to do this  -- or even bring him back at all -- but then i got bored... :3

Even though the voice was not outright familiar to the boy, Tambourine turned to obey the summons, responding instinctively to the authority of the howl. He arrived quickly, panting and tail waving, his mouth clapping shut as he eyeballed the caller. The pup's attention was naturally drawn to his facial disfigurement. His jaw dropped open again as he stared at his missing eye. It wasn't gory—the wound looked more or less mended—but it definitely captured Tambourine's fascination.

"Did a bird poop in your eye?" he blurted, forgetting his manners as he recollected the day when the mourning dove had excreted in his own eyeball. Silas had warned him about the damage the filth could do to his sensitive eye tissues. "Or did a bad guy eat it?" Tambourine guessed next, pale gaze tracing over the stranger's scars. He was, of course, unaware that he was no stranger at all. He had been the boy's first ever visual the day he had opened his eyes, though of course he had no memory of it.

He scanned imperceptibly as he waited, his remaining eye used to the strain of the single life by now. He was sitting by the time Tambourine came into view, and as the approaching figure failed to reach an adult size the closer it came, he did not feel obligated to stand. It was a surreal moment, regardless, because all at once he felt like he knew who this boy was, despite having not seen him since infancy. The adolescent certainly didn't look like the long and grey potato he remembered, and Octavia's scent had long stopped clinging to his spiky fur, but the Keep's founder speculated anyway... At least until the youth came to stand attentively before him, one ear toppled over like it was heavy. Without any true evidence, Warbone knew this to be his partner's son. 

"Bad guy," the bronze brute confirmed in a low rumble. "Actually, bad girl." Sivra Solothurn, he thought bitterly. She was dead now, but she hadn't lost her life before taking a significant piece of him with her.

Although Stark had not taken the past week well he was trying to ignore things enough to be a functional leader. He had almost made it around the borders when he heard a howl, lips twitching as the sound was authoritative. He had seen so little of Warbone that his voice wasn't that recognizable, his time had been spent with Octavia more. Still, it nagged a bit as his memory and he still responded because it was on his borders. The Alpha lifted his head and called back - it would take him a bit to make it to intercept the stranger. The dark male took off, approaching with his head held high and tail proudly held; if someone didn't know, they'd have no idea the recent news in Stark's life.


Tambourine had already arrived and the Alpha regarded his son for a moment. He wondered if Tam liked the idea of running borders, of intercepting strangers - maybe he might want to learn more about trades. It was worth asking, when they were alone, that was. "Happens to the best of us," Stark intoned, just catching the last little snippet of conversation. He was fairly certain it was Warbone, missing eye and all, but he'd wait a beat before making an outright assumption. It still left many questions about what happened, why - if it was intentional or not. Stark hadn't speculated much then, his days had been filled with keeping himself, Octavia, and Tambourine alive. He'd give the male the chance to explain, if he was even interested in it.

"Oooh," the youngster replied at this curious detail. "Wh—" he began to ask when a much more familiar howl interrupted him. Tambourine cocked his head, a lopsided smile appearing on his face. "That's Stark!" he informed the scarred stranger. And it wasn't long before the Alpha male materialized beside his young charge.

"Some lady ate his eyeball!" Tambourine said excitedly to his foster father. Perhaps because of Stark's presence, he suddenly recollected himself enough to add, "I'm Tambourine! And this is Stark!" Even though he'd more or less said that latter part already. "Who're you? Will you tell us the story about your eye?"

His head angled towards the returned call, feeling a tightness in his chest at the unfamiliarity of the voice. He had certainly been hoping to hear from Octavia— even the call of Kunik, Teagan, Trick, or Nova and her daughter would've been welcome. He looked down at the boy as he stated the owner of the voice was Stark, which at least gave him a face he could remember, despite not having known him well at all. Warbone stood when the handsomely robust and dark wolf arrived. He chose his posture carefully— attentive, though remaining as neutral as possible.

Despite his formal presence, he couldn't help but to glance down at Tambourine, a ghost of a smile pulling lightly on the corner of his mouth. "My name is Warbone," he said to the boy, lifting his chin once more so that he might look at Stark. "My eye was lost in a fight with my own sister, Sivra. I did not know she harbored ill feelings for me when she found and informed me of a herd she was tracking. And though I never received an explanation, I suppose she needed to lead me away so that the Keep would not interfere."

"I ventured with her, and she ambushed me on a cliffend. She took my eye— not an easy task, mind you—" he added for Tambourine's interested sake, "we fell over the ledge, and when I woke up she was dead... and I had no clue who I was." This, or death, could've been the only reason Arkham would have left his Keep, though Stark did not know the character of him personally. "I took up under the stead of nomads as I healed, and returned as my memory did." He had many questions, but let his story absorb first before he would resolve to ask them.

Stark couldn't help but smile, Tambourine was one of the few that could always bring a smile to his face. Even with all that had happened recently he wasn't deterred and his good nature shone through. It went without question that Stark was proud of the boy, even as brash and loud as he could be - but it was part of growing. It was part of changing. It was part of becoming his own man. With introductions offered by the young boy Stark turned an expectant eye to the near-stranger, waiting to see if he would naturally offer his name and confirm or deny what Stark suspected. 

It only took a little while before his suspicions were confirmed and Stark gave a nod, watching and just listening for a moment. He couldn't remember if Octavia had addressed why he had gone - maybe it was a hunting trip but then it became weeks, and then months, and then the world had crumbled a bit and things had splintered. Whatever Warbone was expecting to come back to he wouldn't find it - not a single of the wolves he had admitted into the pack were there anymore. 

"It's good to see you made it." He finally offered. Many had not, after all, but Stark wasn't so concerned with those wolves. They'd made their choices.  "A lot has changed since the famine."

What a cool name! Tambourine listened attentively as he spun his tale, his eyes going wide when Warbone mentioned falling off a cliff. "You didn't die?" he blurted, unaware of the idiocy of such a question. The idea that someone could forget who he was caused the youngster to lapse into contemplative silence. He didn't realize his very own mother had gone through something terribly similar, with a much more horrible ending.

Of course, he was aware of Tavi's demise, yet it hadn't had much of a lingering effect on him, at least on the surface. "What's a nomad?" Tambourine wondered, glancing between Warbone and Stark. He wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier but he sensed something pass between the two adults.

Warbone's stoic expression softened marginally at Stark's words. "I could smell as much," he relayed without much sadness. "But the Keep has stood strong?" Appearances weren't everything, and even if things seemed fine, there could always be another story— he felt safer asking than assuming. His muzzle dropped marginally so that his eye might catch Tambourine's face as he piped up curiously. "Travelers. Wolves that stay together, but move around. They are a pack but do not have a Crook or a true home like you."

Swiveling his eye back to the reigning Marauder, Warbone asked: "Do you know if Harlyn and Mordecai ever made it to the Keep with their children? I offered them asylum, but never saw them before Sivra arrived. And where is Octavia? I assumed she might receive me."

Had they? At the core, there had been much turmoil, but since Stark had taken the pack it had evened out. He felt relaxed and he felt steady in his position. "There was strife, but, we are recovering." he was honest enough, because he could understand the delay in Warbone's return. Stark drew in a breath when he asked of Mordecai and Harlyn, and only a beat later, of Octavia. His gaze drifted to Tambourine before returning to Warbone, bracing himself for the fact he'd yet again have to tell someone of her passing. "The Ostrega's arrived here some months ago." He said quietly. "But Octavia - she passed. Recently." His words were more clipped, he didn't want to talk to a man he didn't know about the woman that he had entwined his life with and the son that they'd raised standing there. 

Maybe at a point he might open up, but, he wasn't interested right then. It was too hard to face facts and Stark wasn't going to face them right then. He was more interested in ignoring problems than solving them right then. "Kunik passed in the famine. Trick, Teagan, Nova Rose, and Grace abandoned us." He'd seen Grace, and she'd claimed to be seduced away by Trick, but he didn't care. The tiny male hadn't drug her away after all. "If they're in the Wilds or not, I haven't bothered to check." They wouldn't be welcome in his pack again, that was for sure. 

Although he was still interested in poking and prodding this intriguing dude, metaphorically speaking, Tambourine paid attention to the unspoken vibe between the adults. They began to discuss pack matters and it slowly dawned on him that Warbone must have lived here previously. The boy licked his chops as several more questions occurred to him but he kept his lips zipped as Stark and Warbone swapped information. His only contribution to the conversation was an abrupt and jarringly loud burp that left him blinking in surprise at himself.

Months. This word struck him— at first he didn't know why— and Warbone was left with a numb and hollow feeling resonating inside his chest. The regrowth around him had alluded to how much time had passed, but his concept of time had been skewered for at least half the time he had been gone, and the confirmation that the Ostrega's had arrived months ago sent his mind spinning. It did not help that Stark said Octavia was dead.

Warbone looked genuinely shocked, even with only one eye to emote with. He had stiffened visibly, and there was a palpable stress emitting from his body. The recoil from the news ebbed slowly, and he did not seek to ask the man anything about the situation. She was gone— not disappeared— Dead. He went through the five stages of grief in that instant, and then it all passed like a breeze, with Warbone resuming a slightly sadder nonchalance. He didn't know if he had loved her or not, but he was simply not the kind for grieving. Life was the terrible thing that it was and he could not stop the big wheel from turning.

Stark continued, unwittingly burying several more daggers into the now completely disoriented colossus, and he was almost grateful for Tambourine's distractingly large burp. He looked down, and stared for a long moment at the boy. A weak and suddenly very tired smile flitted across his lips, then the bronze male lifted his head at Stark. "Even though my wolves no longer remain, I would resume my position," he said, apparently unwilling to do any bush-beating. "We do not know one another, but I built this and you have maintained it. I believe I deserve what I made, and that you deserve what you have raised. If you can agree with that, we can be partners. If you cannot, then you will be challenged by me each time you set foot outside the Keep. I came back only for these willows and the wolves who seek to be harbored by them. I will always do right by this place." 

Tambourine broke the tension as always, Stark's gaze only briefly settling on the boy after the loud burp that had left his lips. Stark flashed the slightest smile, his gaze softening on the youth before he returned his gaze to Warbone. A brow lifted - almost in disbelief, as if Warbone actually thought someone would just roll over and show their stomach because a founder waltzed back in. There was no way. Not when Stark was the only reason the pack hadn't fallen apart and it's wolves scattered to the four winds. Warbone talked about sharing the pack and Stark couldn't imagine why he thought that would fly. Especially not on the back of a threat. 

"We don't know each other." Stark pointed out. "My sister and I lead the pack, and we have been the ones to keep its peace, its borders, its caches. Were I to share the Keep with you again I would never just let someone I didn't know take up a mantle and put the wolves I promised myself to at risk." Anything he decided to do would be done only after discussing it with Banner - and after Warbone proved himself to genuinely be worthy of the task of leading again. 

"I am not opposed to the best for the pack's sake, but you would have to prove to me and to Banner and the pack that you have any place in that picture. Anyone can say the right things - doing them, that's totally different." Stark said evenly. There was no part of him who was afraid, the male could say what he wanted and talk as much game as he could. Stark was stubborn, he was prideful, he was not willing to yield. 

*climbs lovingly over kat*

Warbone remained still, his ears and face trained on Stark, but the rest of him lank for the moment. In the opposing position he would've had the same reaction— though where the alpha of the Keep reasoned, the titanic cyclops would have attacked on principle. Still, he respected the man's words enough to accept them without anger. "You will know me, Stark, by the rank I demand. I am not a subordinate and I have already proved my worth by gathering the ones who left in my absence. By creating the home you were invited to. You— as well as your sister— have earned my gratitude and my respect. I do not seek to take from you, but I did not abandon this place and it is in this place that I intend to die. You cannot keep me from my mantle, which I care to share with you. You will come to know me as your fellow alpha or as your challenger. Because if you still seek to have me prove myself, then I will do so by continuing to fairly and respectfully challenge you until I win or you kill me."

Stark wasn't impressed, sure, Warbone had gathered wolves to his side but they had all ended up turning tail - well, save for Kunik, who had died long before there was ever a chance of her leaving. Stark didn't have much faith in the wolves that Warbone had gathered or what that meant. There'd been no loyalty in them. "I can't take you at your word. I cannot risk my packmates after all that we've endured in such a short amount of time. I'm giving you a chance to make good on your word that you want to be here for the pack, but no matter what, no one would just waltz in and take a rank in this pack. Subordinate or leader. They're earned." No one got a free ride and Stark wasn't the type to trust blindly. He'd been burned too many times that way. 

Warbone did not think he was going to be given anything. He had never been handed an iota of assistance that he did not ask for or demand. And as the circumstances were, he wasn't expecting anything different. "Put your wolves at risk? So I am a threat to them, am I?" he said quietly, amused by the insinuation. "I have not come to bludgeon and raze, or take food from their mouths or yours. I offer only leadership. Support. When you or your sister cannot be here, then it would be me, and I clearly do not take responsibility lightly. I crave the opportunity to rally. If you cannot see my honor, I am not inclined to force it on you. But, you have something in your possession I made, and I want it back. Here is my home. Here will be my family. And here will be my grave."

His voice remained level, uninterested in making his grandstanding monologues with a grave amount of emotion. That was how fights started, and he wished not to fight Stark unless forced. He was becoming more and more impressed with the black and blue-eyed swain, even if the opposite was happening on the other end of the stick, and thought of Octavia's excellent choice here. He then began to feel as if her memory was being dishonored by distrusting him so, when she and the deserters had placed a lot of stock in him, but his personal opinion had no standing here. So it would seem he'd have to force his way. "I am nothing short of an alpha. If you and your wolves sought to indoctrinate me at your side, and I proved unworthy, then I invite you all to kill me.  If that is not good enough to take, then understand that my presage still stands, and I will be forced to try more drastic measures. Refuse fair challenging further, then you might as well beckon everyone here now to end me." 

Warbone was nothing, if not dramatic. Someone had called him that before...

I don't mean to be a butt but do you mind not skipping me? I promise I'll do my best not to hold up the thread!

The situation escalated quickly, leaving Tambourine at a bit of a loss. For several beats, he didn't know what to say or do as heated words were exchanged and tension mounted until it was as thick as the boy's own skull. He had long since dropped to his haunches but he found himself on his feet again, standing even with Stark's shoulder and staring at Warbone. The fur along his spine prickled. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening but it seemed as if Warbone was challenging Stark. Tambourine was as easygoing as they came but his foster father was the rightful Alpha.

"Hey!" he shouted loudly at Warbone. He didn't have much else to add to that, he just wanted to get a word in edgewise and somehow express his indignation over these matters he didn't fully understand.

Stark was good at talking. He was good at playing level headed. He was good at many things, however, few mattered when it came down to a wolf he only vaguely remembered showing back up and assuming that he could just walk back in and take back a pack he'd left behind. Stark was confident in his pack, his people, that no matter what happened they would back him. If it came down to it, even if Warbone won a challenge for his rank, the wolves of the Keep would not stand for his rule. What that would mean for him, who knew, but they would not stand by idly. 

Stark's eyes cut from Warbone - who actually seemed convinced that a once-king was enough to take back the position - to Tambourine as the boy shouted. Tambourine was ruffled, where Stark had not risen to the challenge. "You're an unknown. A variable I can't simply throw into things. That's not my style." Sure - Stark was headstrong and he was brash but he didn't just accept things as they were. "If you think whatever you left behind is still here waiting for you to rush in and save it, you're wrong. We've managed just fine without you." Stark pointed out. Sure, if Warbone wanted to say that he'd fallen on bad times and that was just unfair for him, Stark could believe it. He wasn't going to give up the Keep though. 

"It would be best for you to continue on your way." The dark male settled on finally, his eyes narrowing a bit.

you weren't being the butt or holding up the thread -- i got caught up in an ic whirlpool lol and considered only that wb wouldn't care for tam's input in the conversation portion and forgot entirely about the wonderful person i was being inconsiderate of <3 sorry boo!

There was no challenge here. A warning for future path-crossing; a warning of his intentions to regain his home, and not be a subordinate within it. Tambourine's indignant shout went outwardly unacknowledged, as his eye never left Stark, but Warbone realized internally that he had already lost what small margin of favor he might've had with either wolf. Not that it mattered— his arrogance didn't account for anyone else's feelings, rubbing everyone the wrong way with his brutish demands. He had no intention of enforcing his words at that time; he himself was not prepared for it, and he had no reason to even be on the defensive as Stark appeared wholly unintended to a fight. He did not even call his pack to defend his own title as goaded. 

"As you wish," he murmured, involuntarily pulling his ears back in the rare display of an emotion other than indifference or anger. Helplessness, perhaps. "But I will never be far. And I refuse to give up on my claim here, even if you think it lost and me delusional." He truly had no claim here, which was the fact of the situation, but more than that truth was another, and that was that Warbone would rather die than live without owning the Willows he had chosen as his first and only stead in his adult life. He had finally created his dream, and now it was seemingly cradled lovingly in the perhaps capable paws of another. He could find comfort at least in the knowledge that the Keep might remain sanctuary still until he could regain his own position. Stark was probably right in saying that they didn't need saving— even if he hadn't actually considered them needing it himself until now...

"I pose only a physical threat to you. I suppose you will tell your wolves of my lingering, so do not forget to mention that. For if they wish to antagonize me of their own accord, on your behalf, then I will defend myself without prejudice." Warbone sighed, revealing a great deal of mental weight that otherwise didn't show on his face. And with a stiff nod, ignoring a desire to look down at the boy, he turned slowly and receded from the Keep's border.

He pressed closer to Stark, their fur mingling as they stared down their common enemy. And Tambourine didn't question that: Warbone was an enemy. He had been cool at first but then he had made threats, which meant he was no good. Tambourine shifted restlessly on his paws, discomfited for this situation but wanting Stark to know he was right there to support him.

Stark commanded Warbone to leave and he did, though not without making even more threats. The pup felt a rumble deep in his chest. What was this guy's problem? Who did he think he was? The slightly darker fur along the ridge of the youth's spine prickled. Only after the giant jerk was out of sight did he step away from Stark, moving just far enough away to look up at him.

"He—" Tambourine began, then clapped his mouth shut for a second before opening it and starting over. "That guy's an assbutt!"

Stark's patience was running thin but with Tambourine there he didn't want to cause a scene. Nothing that Warbone had said was impressing him at all and Stark wasn't going to hand over the leadership of his pack to anyone. There was no way. He'd entertain the notion that someone could lead them better than he could but the fact of the matter was that no one had. 

Stark stared at Warbone, unwavering, until he spouted his last few words and then retreated off the borders. Stark leaned against Tambourine, fur mingling, even as the boy was ruffled. "Yeah," Stark agreed, leaning to rub his muzzle against Tambourine's. "He is. Until he leaves, be careful around the borders, okay?" He said gently. "I don't want you worrying about things here, but I don't think he's all there." Stark explained. 

Tambourine peered at Stark out of the corner of his eye after his little outburst. The Alpha male agreed with him and the pup blew air out of his nostrils. He bobbed his gray head when Stark warned him to be careful, the fur along his back prickling defensively.

"...what?" the pup couldn't help but ask when Stark finished, not quite understanding the last part. Warbone wasn't all there? What did that mean? "I can help patrol," he added. There was a question mark in his voice. Stark didn't want him to worry but this was Tambourine's home just as much as anyone else's. He knew about guarding the borders and wanted to keep that dick away from the Keep.

"In the head." Stark clarified, giving a little shake of his head to try and shake the sense back into himself. "Like....he might not act too rationally." Stark knew he could be prone to that too, but, he didn't want to terrify his son. He tried to at least keep himself together for the sake of Tambourine and the Keep. "Y'thinking about focusing on the borders?" He asked, canting his head to the side curiously. 

It was about the time that Tambourine would probably be looking at skills to pick up, ones to hone in one. It made sense, too. "We can start running them together if you'd like." He offered with a small smile. At least one good thing would come from the whole ordeal then, even if it left him with more questions to try and figure out the answers to. 

Stark not only accepted his offer but suggested they do border patrols together. "Yeah!" the boy said exuberantly, gnashing his teeth in a playful leer. "Let's keep out the bad guys," he said with a rumble in his voice. Tambourine didn't even think about how this might apply to a trade. He was too young to concern himself with such formal matters. He just wanted to guard his home from outsiders and if he could play the part of Stark's sidekick at the same time, well, he was ready to go! "Now?"

Stark offered a smile, reaching over to tease the floppy edge of Tambourine's ear between his teeth for a moment before he tugged playfully. "C'mon then," He said with a smile as he lead the boy onto what had become muscle memory for him. It was hard to realize just how big Tambourine was getting; he'd grown so much so quickly. Stark had blinked and then Tambourine had shot up like a weed. "Big focus on the borders - gotta mark everything." He said as they started the lesson. it was something that anyone could do - and everyone should do. Stark kept seeing that tiny puppy next to him, flopping over his own feet and falling over at random, but it was hard to keep himself properly in the present. He tried though to keep it relevant, explaining some of why they did what they did and how it all tied back to being a good guardian for the pack.