Sun Mote Copse You can stand me up at the gates of hell

By the time he found himself on the far side of the mountains, Peregrine's paws were sore and even bleeding slightly. He strode into a bare, naked woodland to pause and collect himself, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings even as he gingerly cleaned his aching feet. He didn't know the name of this place, else he might have noted it was now rendered irrelevant by the sheer lack of plant life. Honestly, it looked just as stripped as the rest of the Teekon Wilds. A feeling of hopelessness curdled in his stomach but he pushed back onto all fours, reminding himself that he had barely seen the tip of the iceberg here.

Minding his travel-weary limbs, the thinning wolf trotted along a sun-baked game trail, heading in the only direction that made any kind of sense: west.

Arturo had yet to stray from the Tuktu Hinterlands since his arrival into them weeks ago but he understood that these Wilds were probably more than the Hinterlands and while the famine pushed the melanistic coywolf to his boundaries he would have to reascend and humble himself to the role of subordinate once more. His instinct to preserve his life weighed more than his pride, even if the idea of taking orders like he was some common street rat was enough to make the Ceannasach cringe. He'd played a similar sort of role within his ascension to adulthood but Boadecia had not been a gangster. The Warrior Queen of Quicksilver Hollow had only adopted the idea after Arturo had begun to display it and gather his following. It wasn't quite the same but no doubt the adjustment would serve to be a struggle for the Fearghal monarch. It had never truly been the power — only the exertion of control. Power happened to be a particularly enjoyable bonus; but for now those days were withheld from him. For now, he would endure lowering himself to the life he had once lived and thought himself to be free from.

The Copse was just as hideously skeletal as the rest of the Hinterlands, Arturo saw as he trudged through it, pausing every so often to lower his muzzle towards the ground and sniff at the dirt and remaining carcasses of the locusts in the hopes of catching the warm aroma of a small woodland creature he could attempt to hunt. His hunts were not always successful, and Arturo understood and accepted that the odds would not remain in his favor for too much longer. Woodland creatures were too small to sate his hunger to any true capacity — but for now they were enough to keep him from starving; but it wasn't enough. It wasn't ever enough.

Movement was caught out of the corner of Arturo's fiery orange-red eyes and the coywolf froze, the dark brown fur of at his nape bristled with caution as his muzzle lifted ever so slightly, black, leathery nostrils flaring as he breathed in the shadow's scent. A low chuff left Arturo's lips to announce his presence, though the coywolf did not move from his spot, contended to watch the other male's reaction, the muscles pulling taunt along his svelte shoulders, though Arturo's expression remained calm, philosophical. He habitually anticipated the worst, feeling that it helped to keep him as prepared as he could ever be.

Movement caught his eye, every sense on high alert as Peregrine sought any sign of life in this unfamiliar wasteland. He turned to face it, jade eyes squinting as he noted the distinctly canine figure ahead of him. He swallowed, slowing his steps, not particularly wanting to make small talk with the locals (the inedible ones, anyway). He was here for a very specific purpose and socializing didn't really fit into his itinerary. Although, he could touch base with a resident, ask about the state of affairs...

With that thought in mind, the black wolf returned the quiet woof and came to stand with a dozen yards of the stranger. He was tall but lean, a very coyote-like sharpness to his features. But he was undeniably a wolf, a fact which Peregrine observed with a sense of disappointment. If he had been a coyote, he would have done to him what he'd done to that coyote pup a few days ago...

Instead, Peregrine queried gruffly, "You from around here?"

The other dark coated male — though his ebony coat was not broken by the mixture of creams, and varying shades of browns as Arturo's own melanistic coat — returned the chuff and closed the distance between them, though he left ample room between them and for the respect of personal space Arturo was grateful. Upon closer inspection there was light greying in some areas of the other male's physique Arturo noted absently. The assessment did not take long and was quickly shuffled and tucked away when the question was posed. The Fearghal monarch's ears cupped forth, towards the stranger as the words crossed the space between them, before they swiveled back in contemplation. “I've haunted these Hinterlands for three weeks now, perhaps a month,” So consumed with the simple and most important task of surviving there hadn't been much time for Arturo to keep judicial track of how long he'd been in the Tuktu Hinterlands.

“Not a native, but I've been around,” The gangster concluded with a simple shrug of his svelte albeit broad shoulders, canting his head ever so slightly to the side so that he might study the stranger with his fiery orange-red gaze once more. “Why do you ask? Is there something you seek here?” Asked, despite that there wasn't much. Just skeletal remains of what once was — probably just like the rest of the Wilds if Arturo had to guess. Arturo had not been idle and had been scouting the lands — staying clear of the one that was claimed, of course — and thought he knew the Hinterland well enough to be of some assistance.

The hinterlands, Peregrine repeated in his head, cataloging that in a dusty filing cabinet in there somewhere. If he had been here for about a month, that meant he had arrived nearly simultaneously with the locusts. Was that just bad luck, a coincidence or...? He wanted to ask but the stranger kept talking a moment longer, so he held his peace until the other wolf was finished.

He didn't see any reason not to answer the question straightforwardly. "Yeah, I'm scoping out the place to see if it's faring any better than the lands to the... east of here." He hesitated only for a second as he recollected the direction from which he had come, along with the one where he was going. "Do you know how things are even further west of here? Did you come here because of the locusts?" he asked in the next breath, since conditions didn't seem particularly better or worse here as far as he could tell.

Arturo gave a sage nod when the other male answered his question with what the gangster could see was honesty. Something that the Fearghal appreciated, despite that the Fearghal had no real reason to want to know the other' male's intentions aside from his own curiosity. He had nothing to protect but admittedly the well-mannered sovereign could not offer his assistance if he was blind to intentions. The coywolf couldn't help but think that seeing if other parts of these Teekon Wilds fared better was nothing more than hope...a vain one, at that. Although, Arturo couldn't really speak fro how the rest of the Wilds fared from the pestilence that had decided to plague these lands, it was true that he had yet to step foot outside of the Hinterlands but he was a realist and did not presume to dream that they fared any better, though this stranger's appearance more or less confirmed his suspicions.

The stranger made his own inquiries and Arturo was quiet for a moment as he processed it. “It's all the same,” Arturo spoke grimly, glimpsing about them at the barren wasteland that was left. He had moved through enough of the Hinterland's territories to wonder what they looked like in their true glory: with greenery and plentiful prey. For now, they all appeared the same despite their differences. Skeletal. “No, that isn't at all why I came here,” It was the truth since the stranger had offered truth of his own, besides there was hardly any reason to hide his intentions. The famine had placed them on hold, admittedly, and pressured him instead to seek shelter with a pack (as loathe as he was to admit it). Pride had no play here anymore. His pride would get him killed if he let it run rampant, but he kept it on a tight leash especially because he had no interest in dying. He had been surviving, perhaps barely, because he endured, because he was used to enduring; but times were tough and sacrifices had to be made.

“I wish I had better news for you,” Arturo admitted. Also a truth, even if it was a selfish one. A place that the swarm would have left untouched would have been lovely — a reprieve from meager meals and the hunger that plagued him. It was grim all around and there was no denying that. Perhaps outside these Wilds was untouched, perhaps it would have been wise to up and follow the herds yet he hadn't. Whether it was that damnable pride or some semblance of foolish pigheadedness Arturo could not say.

Peregrine's jaw clenched at those words: it's all the same. That was not the news he wanted to hear. Of course, he wouldn't take a stranger's word for it, yet he saw no reason for the other wolf to lie. Swallowing, he wondered just how far the damage spread. Surely there was an end to it out there somewhere? It wasn't like the locusts could wipe out the entire planet, not that he had any grasp on the scale of these things.

He expected the stranger to elaborate on his reasons, yet he didn't and they didn't much matter to Peregrine in the end, so he didn't press. Instead, he voiced his thoughts aloud, "I wonder just how far the damage goes. If I kept walking, wouldn't I eventually find green? Places untouched by the locusts?" He sighed and shook his head, fell silent for a beat, then added, "I'm Peregrine, by the way."

Arturo had nothing better to offer his companion than the truth in all it's simplicity and harshness. The swarm had been generous in it's destruction and it had left little in it's wake. Little but the skeletal remains of what echoed to once be lush and majestic. Arturo wished he would have been sooner coming to these Wilds, that he might have been able to see it in it's full glory as opposed to seeing it at it's very low. Much was left to the gangster's imagination which was admittedly wasn't very creative. “I don't doubt it,” Arturo spoke to his companion's inquiries. Surely, the swarm had to have died off to the point where it left land untouched. Locusts weren't immortal, after all and the world was a very vast place. “but the journey may take you far from these Wilds.” Perhaps that was the purpose and if it was then Arturo would not be the one to stop him. It wasn't any of the gangster's business.

Caught in his own thoughts for the moment it took Arturo a few seconds to realize that the male had given his name. Peregrine. “Arturo,” The gangster replied pausing for a few seconds as he licked his chops. “Arturo Fearghal.” Because his sire-name was the very most important part of his introduction, always.

His lips pinched together. If it was just him—just Peregrine, Fox and a handful of able-bodied adults—he wouldn't hesitate to uproot and move on somewhere else. Okay, that was probably a little bit of a lie; it would be difficult to leave the caldera. But it was a moot point. They had young kids and Finley was pregnant (if she hadn't delivered in his absence). There was just no way to relocate without risking the little ones' lives. In the end, it might come down to taking that risk as the lesser of two evils. The thought made his chest constrict.

"What's keeping you here?" he wondered after introductions had been successfully exchanged. His voice sounded almost accusatory in his own ears. In a way, he envied anyone without a pack or family right now, as it gave them the agency to up and go. He simply couldn't do that. But Peregrine would sacrifice everything—including his own life—for his family and he would never trade them for the world, even now, so in that way he did not envy Arturo at all.

Peregrine's question sounded almost like an accusation to the gangster whose lids lowered slightly. Not enough to squint, but enough to let on that he hadn't welcomed the affronting question. It isn't your business was what the gangster truly desired to say, but he held his tongue. He was a gentleman, first and foremost; and for the most part he tended to conduct himself as such. Prided himself on it, in fact. There were exceptions to the rule, of course, times when he had to be less than a gentleman to drive a point home but those were rare and this did not feel like it needed to be one of those moments. “My aspirations and my family.” Three out of four of his children had found their way here and that alone was enough to bid Arturo to stay. They no longer needed him, it was true, but he hoped that in this respect they counted on him to be there. He was still their father and they knew they could always come to him if they were in trouble or needed advice. That never changed and it never would. His reasons were solid as far as Arturo was concerned. “And you?” The question was returned simply out of courtesy, and perhaps out of Arturo's own curiosity. “Do you have anything to keep you here? Or do you truly intend to keep walking until you find green once more?”

If he had assumed Arturo was without a family of his own, he had been wrong. That's what kept him here, in part, along with his aspirations. Peregrine could guess what those were and he found no fault in the male's endeavor, although it was ill-timed. He drew in a thoughtful breath when the question was turned back on him and he started nodding even before Arturo was finished speaking.

"Family for me too, including young pups," he admitted forthrightly. "I was hoping conditions would be better out this way..." He swallowed a sigh. "No, I can't afford to do that. This trip is already taking me further away and for longer than I'd like. In fact, I should be on my way." The sooner he confirmed whether or not the hinterlands were a lost cause, the sooner he could get back to the caldera. "Thanks for the information, Arturo, and good luck," Peregrine said with a curt nod before gliding off in a generally westerly direction.