Phoenix Maplewood look around, leaves are brown

He had hung around the charred place for a while after his conversation with the snowy wolf, but had eventually departed, finding it much too drab for his tastes. The gray male trotted across the landscape, trotting across a field of jagged rock that he surmised must have been left by a retreating glacier--he saw the glistening white expanse just off in the distance. And his travels across this barren land eventually paid off when he entered the maplewood.

It was a gorgeous place, particularly in this season. The golden-orange leaves were falling in earnest, whistling by his ears and settling into a lush carpet on the ground. Crunch-crunch-crunch went his paws as he walked through the wood, eyes peeled for anything interesting.

Shale decided to stay for a while. A few weeks passed by rather quickly, as he made himself busy any way he could, to get his mind off the fact that he was incredibly far from home. He found an abandoned den and settled in; it was a very warm place to sleep, and it was near a colony of rabbits, which made it even better. Those he feasted on in earnest, making sure he bulked himself up before winter hit for real.

Then, one day, luck turned even more his way. A lone deer, likely separated from its herd, grazed on the opposite side of a pond inside the forest. Grinning, Shale watched it for a while. Its eyes were wary--rightfully so--but if he remained quiet and steady on his feet, he might be able to lull it into a false sense of security, thus rendering himself able to ambush it.

His paws still got that restless itch every now and again, and so here he was today, wanderin' past the borders and into the maple woods. The boughs above him were blazing gold, but he'd offered them no more than a glance. The changing of the seasons meant more to him than different scenery, and many years of seeing the leaves turn had left him a little less than impressed with even this fine showing.

He was more interested in the scent of deer, and right after it, something that said blood, brother to his sensetive nose. Grayday, the male thought, but when he'd wound through the trees and located the source of the scent, he knew at once that it was Shale, a wolf he knew far better than his long lost kin.

His tail wagged in a curious, confused sort of way. Was Shale parading around these parts as Grayday? Had Dawn been talking about this brother when they'd discovered their common blood? That didn't make sense - they must both be in these parts. Perhaps he'd soon catch Spot around as well.

They'd catch Shale his deer, and then they'd get Murdock some answers. With a staying nod, Murdock indicated that they ought to hunt before they exchanged hellos - wouldn't their reunion be much sweeter over supper? - and awaited his brother's instruction.

His gaze was still dead-focused on the deer, mind puzzling out a way to take it down solo, when pawsteps reached his ears, close by. Wondering how he could have let someone--or something--get so close without his noticing earlier, he sprang into a defensive crouch, lips curled in a snarl, fur bristling along his spine.

His snarl faded, fur relaxed, as alertness was replaced with incredulity. For here, standing before him, was his elder brother.

Murdock?! he mouthed, eyes wide. In his search for Grayday and Sunspot, he had completely forgotten his other siblings, both older and younger. But here was Murdock, a year his senior, who had wandered far south. Shale had not seen him in many moons.

The brown male nodded at him, indicating that they should take up the hunt together. Still utterly bewildered, he nodded back, sidling quietly up to the male so as not to attract the deer's attention from across the pond.

"One of us should sneak up and startle him; the other should lie in ambush," Shale muttered strategically, keeping all secondary conversations for later. There would be time to talk, once their bellies were full. "I'm content with either role. Your pelt might blend better in the forest," he added, eyes raking over the autumn surroundings.

"What do you think?" he asked, wanting his input. He was, after all, a year his senior. His elder, even though Shale had never overly thought of him as such.

Murdock had never thought overmuch of his seniority, either. Sunspot had ruled the roost since she was able to speak, and Murdock hadn't the heart or inclination to challenge that - it just wasn't his style.

"I'll leave the chasin' to you young bucks," he replied, though a year didn't make much difference except in the first and last stages of a wolf's life. the words were said mostly in jest either way.

Murdock turned and began to seek cover, though he longed to go back to his brother and ask the dozens of questions that now plagued his mind like a cloud of locust. How were the kids? Had he seen Spot or Grayday? Was he looking for a place to settle down?

It was difficult to focus with all that was going on in his head, but he was determined to see the hunt through. Murdock crouched in the tall grass and waited.

With a nod, Shale set off, lithe silver body slinking through the thicket that surrounded the pond. Still unaware of their presence, the deer had ceased grazing and now was taking long drinks of clear water, its muzzle buried in the icy pool.

His plan was to circle well round the deer and approach it from the other side, thus chasing it to where Murdock was waiting. There was a chance that it could catch his scent in the mean-time, true, but Shale felt he was redolent enough of the forest scent, and so long removed from other wolves, that it would not immediately recognize him as a predator.

He made his loop, keeping his paws as quiet and steady as he could, and emerged from the trees just a few tail-lengths' away from the deer. Now it had noticed something was wrong; it lifted its head, black eyes scanning the surroundings warily. Before it could puzzle it out, Shale lunged, leaping at its heels with a fearsome growl.

Crying out in alarm, the deer fled, running, just as planned, toward the spot Shale had left Murdock. He got in a few good swipes at the hind legs as he pursued, hoping to weaken the animal before his big brother took him down entirely.

It took a good bit of compartmentalizing, but Murdock did eventually get into the proper frame of mind for a hunt. It was easy to pretend that it was any other wolf chasing the deer into his trap; Murdock's eyes tracked the deer, after all, and not the silver-bodied ghost that ran behind it.

Soon enough, each hoofbeat could be felt shaking the ground. The muddy male tensed, his muscles coiling for the spring, and then - quick as a viper - struck for the throat. Powerful jaws clamped around the deer's neck, causing superficial flesh wounds and deep, unmendable blunt force trauma. The deer did not go down yet, but the process had begun, and could not be stopped by any force of nature, even if he and his brother were to perish.

The male held on for good measure a few seconds more, but when he'd been dragged and buffeted enough for his liking, he released his grip and bailed, only to fall back a step or two to snap viciously at the deer's ankles. One sharp hoof clipped his cheek, but he caught up again quickly enough and delivered a nasty bite to the deer's hamstring before falling back and glancing around for his brother.

Murdock had been successful in apprehending the deer. The blow he had given to the deer's leg had slowed it significantly down, bleeding out as it bleated for mercy. It now had hobbled to a walk, ambling away from the pair of wolves with fear in its eyes. Not one for dragging things out, Shale trotted alongside it and rose on his hind legs, sinking his jaws into the deer's throat before tugging back downwards.

With a mighty thud, the animal came down, Shale letting go in time to avoid its falling on top of him. The scent of blood was heavy and thick in the air; it had came in a gush over his mouth, and Shale licked his chops, looking back for Murdock.

"Well hunted. . .brother." The last word came quiet with uncertainty. It had been so long since he had seen Murdock--since he had seen any sibling--that he had nearly forgotten the feeling of family, of being connected by blood to others. In this hunt, he and his older brother had once more formed a bond, however tenuous it may be.

Murdock wasted no time - as soon as the deer was down between them, he darted toward his brother, tail wagging eagerly. Vaguely, he took note of the formal greeting that'd been offered. It seemed stupid to answer with words when he'd much rather start a fight.

Throwing his body toward the younger wolf, Murdock did his best to tackle his fellow northerner. He'd been away from family for some time as well, although Stephie was doing a pretty good job of making him feel at home. Still, she was several months too small to wrestle with, and Mur had some affectionate aggression to work out of his system.

He had barely gotten the words out before the burly brown form of Murdock hurtled toward him, wrestling him to the ground. With a bark of laughter, Shale twisted and turned--he might be getting old, but he was still spry--and managed to dislodge the weight atop him, hopping in the air almost gleefully and pouncing on Murdock.

"The hell have you been, Murdock?" he panted as he wrestled, tail wagging with delight. He ceased his play for a moment and took a couple steps back, surveying the older wolf.

Time had been reasonably kind to him; he looked mostly the same as he did the last time Shale had seen him, which had been a while ago. And wherever he lived now treated him well, for Murdock was well-fed and seemed rested. Shale wondered whether he had a family here, or even a pack of his own.

That question. Of course it was that one. "Oh, you know. Pickin' fights. Chasin' tail," he replied, but it would be clear to any that knew him that there was something he wasn't saying. Pursued the younger male when he pulled away, lifting a foreleg to pull Shale against his chest, like they weren't the same size, now. "How about you? I can't remember if you were there the last time I was at Sameth." He'd spent most of his time with their sister. "Have you seen Spot anywhere?"

Murdock had come down this way looking for her, but he'd found Easthollow instead. Perhaps it was for the best; Spot hadn't wanted to talk to him the last time he tried.

"I live with a pack down in the valley. I'm sure they'll take you, too, if you're looking for a place to stay."

Shale snorted as he spoke of fights and tail. Same old Murdock. And yet, things were different now. Times had changed. He had not seen his brother in--god, how many seasons had it been? He didn't know what had happened to Murdock between then and now. He had no notion of the good times, the bad times, everything in-between. . .

"Probably not. I left for good the summer before last." His chest felt tight as he looked for words to continue. He often wondered if fate would have been kinder to him had he not left Sameth. But he felt a little lighter as Murdock spoke again. Spot! "No, I haven't," Shale said, a faint note of excitement in his voice. "Have you? Or. . .or Grayday?"

So he did have a pack; whether or not he was leader of it was inconsequential, for now. Shale supposed he needed somewhere to stay throughout the winter, though, like a typical northerner, he was made of hardy stuff. The connection with others, though, was something he could only gain from a pack. He said nothing in response to that, merely nodding.

Murduck hummed in thought, trying to calculate where he'd been at the time. Had it been before or after his visit to Sameth? The past seemed so distant from where he was today. Only the family ties themselves mattered, not the tenuous memories that'd made them.

At the mention of Grayday, Murdock perked up. "I haven't seen him - but I've met his son and daughter. Perfect copies of him," he shared. "Who'd've thought the kid had it in him? I hear he's got another litter, too. What a dog."

He looked curiously at Shale, wondering how the other was doing. "What about you, boy-o? Got any news to share?"

Kids! Grayday had kids! He was an uncle! Shale's heart swelled, and he felt eager to meet these fine young nieces and nephews of his. And, of course. . .that meant Grayday was here. Somewhere. He wondered why Murdock hadn't run into him yet.

He opened his mouth to ask when Murdock inquired about his life, and promptly snapped his jaws shut again. Resisting the urge to look away, he instead fixed his brother with a gimlet stare. "Not really," he said, voice flat, and didn't touch the subject after that.

He nodded to the deer, then looked back at Murdock. "What say we take some of this back to your pack and I can meet them? See if I'd be a good fit?"

Murdock looked a moment longer at his younger brother, recognizing the bitterness there almost at once. "You and me both," he said to the other male, not quite sure what had happened to him but neither doubting that Shale's pain was as valid as his own. But Murdock didn't want to touch on his own journey through hell anymore than Shale seemed to; it seemed the brothers were on the same page, when it came to that.

 "C'mon. Let's tear this bitch up."

With that, Murdock fell upon the deer; they'd eat what they could and drag what was left to Easthollow; perhaps he'd regugitate some for the kids later on that day.