Firefly Glen cutting shapes

looking for astronomer thread :)

He needed a break from home, from the cripple pup, to think, to clear his mind, to be with the stars. He wanted nothing more than to get rid of the pup, but was it what he should do? It was a blemish on their track record — four healthy daughters last year, and this year, this — and Charon didn't want anyone to think that his or Amekaze's genes were anything less than perfect. But as time went on she became more and more a person and less and less a little cripple blob so he knew the decision should be made soon, before the pack grew too attached and got to know her. He had removed weak links from the pack before, and felt it his duty to do so again now. But somehow the timing never seemed right.

In need of alone time to order his thoughts, Charon walked out into the Glen that summer night. The skies were clear, stars sparkling brightly in the heavens above. He felt like he could lift the weight from his shoulders of the decisions he was to make as he looked up at the skies. Charon sat down on a small hill amidst the sparkling fireflies as he looked up at the stars in silence.

Further to the west from his present locale, the glen had beckoned from forth much like the distant tang of sea salt in the air had drawn them all to this place. True to its name — though unknown to Dirge — the realm beyond the Heartwood was alight with fireflies. He had spent the majority of the day in downtime and now with night settling in, he decided to do a little hunting of his own.

The venture out from there was an easy task as the forests melded together; there was hardly a change from one place to the other, unless one factored in the glow from the fireflies. They flickered and flashed to life all around him, moreso when the canopies opened up and the thick forest dwindled to thin copses. His dark nose twitched as he drew in the musk of the earth, drawing upward as he searched for a scent that would suit him. Nothing too large, but nothing too terribly small either. He'd settle for something he could use to split with @Saor, but if not then all spoils to the victor.

Long minutes spilled into the better part of a half hour before he had the suspicion that he was no longer alone. The air was thick with the scent of another. Intrigued by who else would be out at such an hour, Dirge couldn't help but follow it through a winding path that followed a course all its own. He delved back into the shadows where he could, steps quiet like a knave. He found the other — a male by the looks of him and certainly one no one sane would bother — awash in moonlight and fixated on that night sky above.

His position held and his breath quiet, Dirge cast his own gaze skyward to the haphazard pattern above. It made no sense to him, though he was not as foolish to think that there weren't some that existed with knowledge of what the sky held. There had been one or two, he thought, that had once run alongside of them in his natal pack. His gaze dropped back to the sterling wolf and casting potential sanity to the wind, he decided to approach the scarred figure.

"I'd warn you about keeping your head in the clouds, but it seems there are none," Dirge said quietly. He kept his distance and once again, had brought his own gaze back to the backlit canopy of stars. Saor would have liked this, he decided, even if he hadn't the taste for it. Maybe Nyx would have remembered the stories to go with them, too.

i really couldn't resist, i hope you don't mind

ofc not :D

Charon's attention was all on the stars; for now, he just enjoyed being among them, feeling little desire for the exact science of anything, let alone his beloved stars. It was good enough just to be here without finding all the constellations. He focussed only on the abstract of the entire picture now, and found himself smiling calmly, a thing that didn't come over him often these days, as there was usually not much time for rest.

So distracted was he that he hadn't noticed the other's approach, not until he was close enough to speak, and Charon snapped to attention, shifting his head towards the stranger. Hackles prickled and tail twitched once in instinctive response, but upon noting the stranger's body language remained neutral, so did Charon's body calm down again and did his fur and tail calm down.

The statement sounded like it was meant to be a joke going on words alone, but Charon couldn't quite tell by intonation if it was meant as a joke by this particular wolf, or if he was just looking for a conversation-starter. "Luckily there aren't," he responded neutrally, "Otherwise we wouldn't be able to see the stars quite this well." He glanced up again demonstratively, feeling content just to be here and watch them. It seemed the other wasn't here for that, but even a quick conversation'd be fine so long as he could still watch the skies above.

Finally, someone who didn't entirely take his commentary derisively. Or found his presence annoying. At least if he had, Dirge was none the wiser as his footfalls came to a full stop. Then again, he was as much of an ass as he was smug, so the jury was firmly out on all accounts for the day. But for the time being he embraced the even flow between them, not inclined to make jabs or otherwise stir the proverbial pot as he had done with others. There was a certain ease here that had not existed in places of the past — he could live with that.

"Never fancied myself much of a stargazer," he went on to say, though his gaze had not moved from the scene above. "Certainly a lot of them up there though. Moving right along above us until the sun chases them away for the day." Or maybe it was the other way around; he was hardly a skilled philosopher by any stretch of the imagination. But his present company? Well, already he had an inkling that the sterling wolf held a reverence for the night sky.

Questions burned on his tongue but instead he held onto the quiet.

Standard greetings felt unnecessary in this moment of calm and Charon was glad that nothing of the sort was required. It was just two blokes having a stare at the sky, now, and he was quite content to have just that. With his next words the stranger confirmed that he wasn't much into the aesthetics of it all, or just didn't care much for it, but somehow that was nice. Sometimes, wolves with opinions were just in the way, and everyone who knew a thing or two about the sky could have a differing opinion on some matters. Someone who didn't feel much for 'em, well, they were usually a lot easier to get along with.

Charon couldn't suppress a chuckle when his companion said that they were chased off by the sun. He shared, "I like to think that they take over — that the stars take over when the sun needs rest, and eventually, the sun's back again, fresh for another day. I don't know if any of that's any source of truth, but it's a nice thought somehow." He rolled his shoulders in a shrug, not caring much if the other wolf thought the same way — probably not, considering he seemed the practical sort of wolf who wasn't all that into interesting stories.

Dirge had never thought of it that way, though he could see the idea working. It sounded nice, maybe more nice than the reality of how their world worked. But if they couldn't take comfort in something, then he suspected that there was little point to life at all. At least that was the impression the world had left on him; his own rough upbringing had given him some appreciation for the minor things in life. Even if he chose not to acknowledge it at times.

"That's a tame way of thinking," he said with amusement. "But I can see how it would work. Even the moon glows as much as it can." If the sun was at rest, then someone out there had to pick up the job for a bit. There was a pause, followed by his rejoinder: "The stars too, for that matter." They twinkled right along in the night sky, even when there were clouds to obscure them. If only they knew the reality of the intricacies above.

"Hmm-m," Charon mused, feeling no urge to add any words to what had already been said as he admired his precious stars. He kept any other musings to himself and just looked up for a moment, enjoying the silence and the surroundings, and feeling somehow at ease in his present company despite knowing nothing about him.

"You from around here?" he then asked, casually, a question that he didn't really care much about, but needed to guide in an introduction. "I'm Charon Ostrega, from Moonspear." He gestured to the large mountain to his back, a certain pride to his voice as he spoke of Moonspear — it was his legacy, and he was damn proud of owning the largest mountain in the area.

At the tip of his tongue the silence held, a heavy weight that was no burden to bear as he pondered the metaphysical. Dirge really gave little pause to such things, apt to find them trivial. There were other things he bothered himself with, survival the obvious contender atop the pile. Such was the life that he had become acquainted with however.

So when the initial repeat question of from around here? came into play, he was not surprised. His head shook in response — he wasn't. He did feel similar to Charon in the fact that they were guides to introductions. Formalities to more formalities that passed the time. It didn't seem like it deserved words; they were either all from there or they weren't, and he was willing to bet that Charon wasn't the non-native here.

His nonchalance to it all was whisked away, however, on one and only one point in their dialogue: Ostrega. If it hadn't been for the distraction of following Charon's gesture, Dirge may have lost a hold on the stoicism that cloaked his face. A thousand more questions went alight at the back of his mind; his voice speaking out was the only thing to silence them.

"Fitting name for a mountain," he said, "and you can call me Dirge." Though he was never too keen at tacking on a surname to begin with, the omission here seemed wise. Likewise, he quelled the pressing urge of wanting to seek out his siblings then and there with a followup: "Though I must admit, I am curious what brought you out here to do your stargazing. Surely a mountain provides a better view than a forest."

sorry for the delay

Moonspear was indeed a good name for the beautiful, giant mountain that he called his home. Had they stood and looked on from a slightly different angle they could've seen Moonspear's tips spear the moon. Charon mapped the name — Dirge — and nodded in acknowledgement of the other's name.

Charon grinned as Dirge suggested he had better look from his mountain. There were multiple reasons for his escapade to the countryside; a moment away from the Ran-situation, a moment to himself without anyone bothering or pups and smells about, and because, well — "I like the fireflies here. Make me feel kind of nostalgic. When I was younger I'd come here sometimes to stargaze, before I lived on the mountain." It was the memories, too, and though he hadn't mentioned all reasons this one was the biggest one anyway.

Ah, nostalgia. That explained plenty. Granted, the nostalgia that Dirge carried to the present was not necessarily pleasant. There were aspects that were — petrichor, for instance; the heady mist from dried earth and bark of a hot summer accentuated by cool rains past — but by far, the nostalgia he carried was better considered as not being nostalgic at all. Still, he bobbed his head along with the words, though just as much in agreement as it was cogs turning.

"It is their season too," he said, falling silent. Soon thereafter would be midsummer and in its wake, the full rise of noisy cicadas to punctuate their evening hours. The tawny wolf longed to discover the secrets of the world after that, curious what their differences would be from the niche the Winterhearts had carved in the Sierra Nevada. But his mind did not decieve his heart — he knew better than to rush headlong through the lapse of time. There was little guarantee that he would even linger, not with the call of the wild still so loud in his listening ears.

His gaze settled back on the starlit canopy again. The placement of the stars seemed random to him. Nothing in particular leap out to him as they would have someone more educated; it was all a guise as he pieced together chains of action. Ostrega. A certain bitterness twisted up between his countenance; his visions of grandeur to escape and shed one name had only stirred up the shadow of another. But the silence drew on a bit too lengthy for his liking, and he cleared his throat.

"Your hobbies seem more intriguing than mine. When I was younger, I do believe I enjoyed pulling tails and the like." It was a cheeky addition, half a poor double entendre but not entirely untrue. He had pulled tails — his sisters. "I suspect you could imagine how well that went over."

Charon thought back to his youth, to everything that he had done then; to Atreyu, briefly, and to helping raise his younger siblings. He smiled at the thought, even though thinking of Floki gave him mixed feelings still. He missed his brother, and wondered what'd become of him. There seemed almost no other option than that he had perished. Why else was he not here, after all?

There was silence between them in which Charon thought of Floki. It wasn't until Dirge spoke again that he glanced at his companion and listened, the silence broken. He smirked as Dirge admitted that he had enjoyed pulling tails rather than watching the skies. Admittedly, Charon had done things that were less favourable too, in his youth, but he didn't want to really talk about those as they only reminded him of all he'd lost.

"Hmm-m," he hummed; "I imagine they weren't very grateful?" Ah, to be young and rebellious, Charon thought idly. He was silent again after that, not sure what more there was to say about it. But the silence seemed alright, fitting, somehow.

"Not at all," and come to think of it, maybe that wasn't something he did for long. It was certainly an activity Dirge had picked up along the road; harassing his sisters never got old. They'd get annoyed and whiny, eventually ganging up to knock him down and do the usual threatening. Provided of course, they could catch him. They often did, being smaller and compact and clever together than he was on his own. The thought stirred the matter of the wandering Nyx and he wondered in the pause if she would turn up soon. Perhaps Saor would have found her by now, or the other way around.

Either way, he felt he had the time to waste to better gauge his company. His relative, he corrected in thought as he drew in a breath to speak. "So tell me, if you would be so inclined, what do your stars tell you? I still can't make a damn thing out about them." Mysticism was lost on him, provided those sparkling pinpoints said anything at all.

It was a question that often came up, what the stars'd tell. They told many different things to many different wolves. To Charon in particular, they spoke. He had at one time felt destined for greatness, chosen by them, but that wasn't anything he shared publicly very much anymore. He still felt there was something, and he knew he was special in a great manner, but time would tell what it meant. He was tired of explaining this to strangers.

So he went with a more standard reply. "They're often used to navigate, and there are many constellations that draw pictures in the skies. They're a good guideline to tell stories with, too." But he didn't think Dirge the kind of wolf to be interested in a story, and he truthfully didn't feel like telling one either. "But for me... I mostly like not what they tell me, but what they don't. Their silence." He glanced up again, feeling content just to be accompanied by his good friends.

They watched the stars for another little while until eventually, Charon said his good-byes to the other wolf and made his way home again.