Kintla Flatlands higher ground, had to be told

fleet were the spindly legs that carried Astara from Blackfeather, and out along the flat expanse of meadow that marked the maw of the dark forest. from the flower studded dale the forest looked back, grim and scowling. Astara paid its frowning presence no mind. 

her small excursion had started innocently enough, her curiosity and boredom with the confinement familiarity presented had pressed her to explore further, until at last she was in an idyllic glade alone with nothing but dancing sunmotes to keep her company as she walked. 

Sometimes, the mind sits on a single thing. What seems the monolith of all things arises in a sea of everything. What was a sunny spot becomes clouds, and in it a shattering thunderstrike of madness booms.

For Eva, that madness was him. She had claimed he held no importance to her, that the feelings were merely animal and basic. She had convinced herself that to be loved by him was merely the desire for a moment of danger, and that it had never been worth any risk to her family relationships.
But she had lied. To everyone. To herself.

That day, it hung on her, a thick fabric pulling her to the earth against her will. That day, she was not ready for a young black wolf to disturb her hunting on the flatlands. When she saw the young she-wolf, she narrowed her eyes. Eva caught herself doing this, and stopped. She let out a slow sigh. "Not a bad day for hunting, eh?" 

oh hai! i'm playing fast and loose with his timeline in saying that this is sometime after he returns tywyll to redhawk. :-)

eventually wintersbane's journey takes him to the mid-lands of teekon wilds. like the numerous times he's ventured closer to blackfeather woods he's never really sure why. his first experience there had been far from great and he'd abandoned them sighting too great of differences. the thought of subjugating himself to rules and regulations again makes his skin crawl. he hates authority, he realizes. or, rather, authority aside from his own. sometimes, it's necessary. sometimes, he's too damn curious for his own good. they wouldn't recognize him as kahlil. he looked nothing like the small, pale cream puff he'd been when nyx had taken him in, after all.

the sound of a voice nearby catches the pathfinder's attention. a pause of his steps is given, alongside a twitch of his ears to best determine the exact origin before he makes his way in that direction on cautious steps. he moves through the glade, glacial eyes alert and slows as he comes upon the scene of a young girl — he was not overly good at guessing ages but she had to be about six months of age; somewhere around there, at least — with a dark pelage and indigo eyes that sparked a newfound curiosity. he's never seen eyes that color before! but his gaze does not linger upon her long for it flickers to the older woman, agouti in her coloration. he's not sure the exact situation upon his arrival hearing on the tail end of the woman's inquiry. "hunting?" the tundrian inquires. perhaps he's intruding but one of them smells of blackfeather woods while the other doesn't have a distinctive pack scent and wintersbane never been one to care about social niceties; thus he largely assumes that he's likely not intruding. "are you hunting?" he asks both women, thinking that if they were he might be able to offer to lend an extra set of eyes, ears and teeth ...but of course this is largely his own assumption whether it was right or wrong.

maybe a wolf more seasoned than astara (who, in all honesty, was hardly more than a naive cub) would have had the sense to be wary as she drew further and further from home. astara had no such reservation, spoiled as she was by the relative ease in which her life had so far passed. when she saw a figure ahead she regarded it with a child's pretentious security: she had no negative experiences in to base any misgiving, and so, looked at the greyed woman with a sense of immediate interest.

her tail began to stir, but she had stopped -- her ears falling to her skull as the female uttered something incomprehensible to her. then another wolf approaches; a wolf of the most intriguing pelt -- a frosted silver plied with great fringes of black. astara looked at the two of them blankly, her head snapping from one to the other as she thought.

and then, without much thought at all, the girl crouched into a wild playbow and barked once in play.

First one, then two. A second dark wolf, this one male, overheard them and questioned her. His tone was of good nature, though he had a hefty, soldier's physique. Both of them had frightening eyes. That seemed to be a theme in these parts; Eva had never seen anything but an off colour of gold in a wolf's gaze. "I was trying, until now," she answered. There was an impatience to her voice that she was quite poor at hiding. Not having a pack to help her with basic sustainence was beginning to weigh on her. She did not enjoy the stress of it.

The young girl on the other hand was having a day. Blank stare turned to sunshine, bending into a sweet bow to complete strangers. Eva glanced on the ice-eyed male, raising one eyebrow and cocking her head. Her tail waved once. She allowed a smile to glaze her features. The expression seeped into her emotions after a moment, and she relaxed her stance considerably. Her smile grew, and then she pulled herself into a deep, goofy bow, and launched herself to the side of the young female.

wintersbane looks between the two of them, gaze flickering from the girl — whom doesn't appear to have inhibitions or any sort of weariness of them despite their status as three strangers — her tail stirring the air as he approaches the scene. the woman speaks, then, clarifying that she'd been attempting to hunt. she did not speak it, but wintersbane is capable of reading what goes unsaid: that she's, perhaps, temporarily abandoned her plight. he makes a small noise of acknowledgement in his throat; not quite a rumble but not quite a grunt either.

the girl does not speak, but as his gaze falls back to her — wondering why there are no adults with her and knowing first hand what the worst case scenario could come to be with the innocence and naivety he senses. he feels a deep seeded urge to protect no doubt drawn from his own personal experiences and the recent experience of finding and returning the redhawk boy. he'd argue that he'd never been a guardian in his life ( er, rather, he'd already had that argument with a fellow loner a while back ) but there was something inherently relieving to know that his heart hasn't turned entirely to stone in his plight to build the impenetrable fortress around himself.

the girl is the first to crouch into a play bow, followed by the woman whom then lunged at the girl's side. he knows the woman is indulging the girl in play — he's seen the goofy bow the woman had lowered herself into seconds before the lunge — and yet the desire to lurch forward and put himself between the girl and the woman is overwhelming. he hesitated and visibly lurches in place, muscles tensing as ears splay back against his skull. after a prolonged moment, wintersbane, too, crouches down into a play bow, though he keeps a watchful eye to the distance, still expecting a guardian, cubsitter or parent to come charging into the fray.

don't mind astara being dumb LOL

the girl looked between the pair, her expression near pleading; play with me, it seemed to implore ... yet there was also an impish gleam in those unsettling amethyst eyes, which suggested her method of play was not always so straightforward.

the woman was the first to respond, indulging the naive cub with her own exaggerated bow; all of her attention fastened on the silvered agouti then. remaining unaware of the turmoil that boiled in the unknown male, astara returned the growl with a high yip and a snap of her teeth.

ever playful, the girl reared clumsily upright and flung her front limbs forward, scampering off between the two like a darting oilspill through the taill grass.

She cyoot

It had been a while since she had engaged in any sort of play. The last year or so, her life had been far too adult for her own comfort. At last she was able to let loose a little bit, once her initial anxiety wore away. She could feel the male's eyes on her, but the reason why she assumed to be less noble in nature. Eva ignored it.

As quickly as her unease subsided, the male bowed too, and the girl flew past them both. Eva let loose a soft giggle, grinned at the male, and charged after the young female. The instinct to chase kicked in hard, and her paws danced across the grass. Her tail waved about in the air as she sped past the warrior. She let her tongue loll. At once she was in the moment, and the fear for her survival lifted just as her feet did.

ah, wintersbane. forever the wet blanket on fun.

wintersbane is still apprehensive, still weary that at any given moment an adult from blackfeather woods will come charging at them like an enraged bear, ready to protect their young. ready to kill. the tundrian expects this because if she were his charge, or alternatively — and this is a stranger thought yet for his interest in settling down and starting a family is reduced to brief and rare flickers of consideration ( for he's aware he's nearing the his full maturity ) — if she were his daughter he'd have a reaction to the one he wearily expects. yet, thus far, no adult comes for them. not even a glimpse of eyes in the shadows of the dark forest. it's possible, he deduces, that no one's aware yet that she's beyond their borders. or perhaps, they believe her old enough to handle it without much concern.

caught in his thoughts it takes him a moment to realize that she's darted between him and the woman, disappearing into the tall grasses that shiver as she moves within them. the woman takes after her. wintersbane cannot quite shake off the concern that someone will take notice and it hinders his ability to get lost in the play. it's innocent: two strangers indulging a girl in a simple game of play ...but the soturi suspects it might not be taken that way. the pathfinder follows after the pair, sprinting after them in light play but refuses to lower his guard to whole way, choosing to keep a vigilant eye and ear to their surroundings.

mr wintersbane: NO FUN ALLOWED!
astara & eva: BUT WHY THO

to be young was to be gifted a certain blithe naiveté; to look at the world fresh-eyed and without scrutiny, and to expect that all things within it were good-natured and presented no harm. astara, short-lived and spoiled by the safety of her home, was far more naive than most her age -- and committed to her play with these twocomplete strangers in heartfelt earnest.

a wild shriek of childish delight sounded from the rustling grass as astara heard eva on her tail. delightedly, the little imp scampered through the reeds, coming round in a wide circle to the silent guardian that seemed to only reluctantly indulge in their play. unfortunately his lack of enthusiasm was seen as a weakness in the nightcub's eyes, who viewed his stoicism not as a strength but a chink in his armor meant to be exploited.

like a tiny demon she hurled herself at his feet, little harmless nips aimed at his toes as if to say step up your game you lil sourpuss -- but with eva behind her, astara wasted little time lingering. with one last fleeting nip at wintersbane's ankle, she was off, hopefully before he or eva caught her.

since eva's inactive i went ahead and wrote her out of the thread.

the girl was delighted and it was evidenced by her wild shriek from somewhere within the rustling reeds. wintersbane remains reluctant, glacial gaze still scouring the shadows nearby lest a blackfeather adult make themselves present. he presumes the girl resides as one of it's heirs. the girl snuck up behind him, easily unseen in the tall reeds while wintersbane's attention was focused on potential attacks coming from bigger beasts. he doesn't even realize she is so close until she appears at his feet, nipping harmlessly at his toes. "hey!" the tundrian exclaims with a low bubble of laughter, the word brought forth more out of surprise than anything else. yet as the girl darts off after a last nip to his ankle, wintersbane sees the woman take off in an opposite direction. strange, considering she'd been the one most willing to play. it alarms him and wintersbane's muscles tense, the game of chase momentarily forgotten as he anticipates to be charged at. yet, no one comes.

he considers following in the direction he thought the cub had went, and the tall reeds and grasses rustle noisily as he takes a few tentative steps through them. but he stops as the mystery of the woman's sudden turn-tail-and-run nags at the back of his mind though he does not concern himself over it too much. a few moments pass and wintersbane watches the tall reeds for disruption ...or a giggle or anything that might help him regroup in an attempt to find her as she's had a fair head start on him in the game of chase. "our...friend," wintersbane wouldn't exactly call eva that but it was a lot less impersonal than 'stranger' and he kept at the forefront of his mind that he was talking to a cub. "has left us, pieni." he tells her with a soft frown. there is no sense to be made by the woman's sudden and bizarre disappearance and he feels a slight rise of annoyance towards eva for the simple fact that if astara asks him why she took off he will not be able to provide an answer.

at first the girl was too engaged in her own game to notice eva had left them; it was not until the male called out over the tall grass that astara paused and turned back, one ear flopping in confusion.

after a bit of rustling the nightcub reappeared in front of wintersbane, her head tilted and bright indigo eyes resting curiously on the wolf that had remained. she hadn't had a chance to thoroughly examine him, and now that she had, she suddenly felt there was something intrinsically reserved about him. it was too deep a thought for the cub to think of long -- like ashes on the wind it evaporated and the next whim to catch her fancy overtook her. with a loud yawp she barked in his direction, and then scampered off in a zigzagged circle around him.

wintersbane manages to garner the girl's attention when he informs her that the other had snuck off and disappeared on them and soon she appears before him. her indigo gaze settles upon the tundrian as his own glacial gaze returns the favor. though he does not study her with quite the intensity he feels that she's studying him with regardless of how brief it was. instead, he marvels vainly over her eyes, considering that he's never met anyone with purple eyes before and that he finds the color rather ethereal and curious. her gaze upon him almost felt to him like she was trying and perhaps succeeding in seeing into his soul.

it wasn't long before she was barking at him and darting away, zigzagging in a circle around him. she was a quiet beast, not a chatter box like wintersbane had found tywyll to be. once tywyll had begun to return to health and even some time before that point he spoke freely and a lot to wintersbane. different cubs. vastly different personalities. wintersbane watches her and hesitates not quite sure what she wants him to do. "i'm wintersbane." he offers her his name in the hopes that he might be successful in drawing at least one word from her. he might like cubs but that doesn't mean that wintersbane knows what to do with them ...and tywyll isn't the best example considering wintersbane had spent most of his time tending to his wounds and taking care of him. play is the most obvious thing but he's still (re)learning how to do that which leaves him feeling like he's at an awkward deadlock.

astara might never grasp the true vanity of the world, but at some point she, like wintersbane, would find the heirloom-purple gaze of her family to be quite engrossing -- someday, she might even marvel over the captivating coldness of the melonii's most famous sigil; but for now, the girl was unaware of her own looks and simply aware that wintersbane's attention was upon her.

it was enough to goad the little shark into action; as she circled around him he gave her a name - a noble and vain gesture, for words were as meaningful to astara as the chatter of leaves in a tree. they were simply noise.

the night-cub froze in front of wintersbane, her tail arcing upright in a slow inching climb. silently she lowered down, her gaze intensely focused on him -- and them abrupt as a cat, sprung towards him with a yodel before she darted straight past him and gallumphed for home.

she does not respond to his name. he hadn't really expected her to. she's been decidedly quiet for the entirety of their meeting; a fact that is surprising to wintersbane whose ( brief ) experience with other cubs allowed him to create the assumption that they were all as chatty as tywyll. she stops before him and he watches as her tail arched upright, her body lowered down and then lunged at him with a loud noise. on instinct, wintersbane braces for impact but it never comes. instead, she shoots past him towards the dark woods. his head turns and glacial gaze surveys it with deep contemplation. there is a lure. a feeling in his chest, an encouragement that he does not understand nor does he try to decipher. he trots after her calling out "wait." as he follows.

the tiny imp is already near-gone, the patter of her feet fading. yet it is a command that brings her back. the meaning of it was lost upon her, but not the tone - it was the same tone to fill her dam's voice when she growled in warning.

astara swung back warily, mimicking the loose gait in which wintersbane had adopted. he was much bigger, and thus, his stride larger and more elegant -- all the same the shadow fell in step alongside him with a wide grin and tongue lolling.