Broken Antler Fen out of school go-go'n for a hundred or two

The thought of returning to Broken Antler Fen weighed heavily on Ivy at times, even back when her family had moved from their poisoned home and stumbled into the less-than-welcoming embrace of Redhawk Caldera, but she hadn't followed through until today.  The small lady sucked in a shaky breath as she stared at her reflection in the crystal waters that had once been pure enough to sustain an entire pack.  Sure, she looked about the same as she had when she left the Teekon Wilds at eight or so months old, but her pale green eyes had a seasoned, wary look about them that hadn't been present in the old Ivy.  Despite the morning sun warming her sleek grayscale fur, she couldn't help the chill than ran through her.

Turning away from the body of water with a sharp huff, the youngest of the Rochester-Isolia children set her sights on a particularly large willow tree.  Looks as good as anything, she murmured to herself before heading toward it at a brisk trot.  While in transit, she realized that it was entirely possible that the Fen's water supply was clean once more after the passage of time, though she wasn't particularly keen on testing that theory herself.  Even if the water were no longer poisoned, it wasn't like she'd seek to live here on her own.  This place held too many memories and something told her that if her mother and father still hadn't returned it was a lost cause anyway.

A distant grunt startled the pale-eyed yearling just enough to freeze her in her tracks.  She blinked rapidly for a few long seconds before it dawned on her: Broken Antler Fen.  Right.  Antler.  Moose.  In her youngest months, she remembered watching (from a safe distance, of course!) while males fought each other by pushing their antlers together.  And their various grunts were often heard in the background of her childhood memories.  Ivy shook her head and continued on to the willow she'd spotted at a pace that was markedly more brisk.  It'd behoove her to keep out of sight if any agitated moose were in the vicinity.  God forbid she get caught it the middle of a territory dispute between those behemoths.

@Ivy is it ok if we present date this? this looked hella lonely~

Lorcan draws in a breath as he enters the territory, the musky scent of moose hangs heavily in the air of this particular fen and puts Lorcan on a heightened edge of awareness. Soot colored ears swivel atop his skull for any discernible sounds that would become tell-tale signs that he’s wandering too close to the beasts. If he remembers his lessons on big predators correctly their rutting season is drawing to a quick close and the males might have lingering aggression and territoriality; and truth be told Lorcan has no immediate intentions of getting caught by a moody and hormonal bull. He hears no click of their joints — that does not mean they are not lingering, he knows — but he presumes that, for the moment, his chosen path is relatively safe and moose free.

As he nears a large willow he, too, hears the muffled grunt though there is some distance between the noise’s origin and the tree — that evidently a quick sweep of his dark orange gaze reveals: he is not alone but thankfully it is not a moose whom shares his general vicinity. She is nearer to the tree than him and he visibly hesitates, ears fluttering to lay flat against his skull in a display of timid neutrality. He studies the greyscale girl for a moment before he lets out a soft chuff to announce his presence and simultaneously question if she might welcome his company or not.

of course!

In her haste, Ivy did not notice that another wolf had chosen to explore Broken Antler Fen today.  It wasn't until the male's chuff reached her ears that she turned to fix him with a curious stare, though she kept right on with her brisk pace.  Without much thought, she gestured toward the willow tree with her maw and raised her eyebrows as if to say "well, let's go!".  She didn't wait to see if he'd heeded her brusque invitation - any creature should have the basic wherewithal to stay out of sight when (possibly) aggressive moose were about.

Golden-colored willow boughs brushed along her gray flanks as Ivy entered the tree's cover.  She slowed and eventually stopped just beside the trunk.  Turning, she let out a world-weary sigh and gracefully settled back on her haunches.  Any shelter provided by this well-placed willow tree was by no means an impenetrable fortress, but she figured the whole idea of "out of sight, out of mind" might play an important role in her ability to keep safe today.  In any case, her head tilted a bit as she waited to see if the male would follow her lead or continue on his merry way.

Lorcan watches as his chuff catches her attention but does not slow her purposeful stride any. Instead she appears to gesture towards the willow tree with an invitation. Lorcan gives a pause if only long enough to allow his dark orange gaze to sweep the immediate terrain around them. He can hear the moose still and there’s a twitch of his right ear that leads smoothly into action. His steps carry him towards the willow tree. He noses his way past the long, golden boughs of the tree, shrugging into the shelter. Lorcan sees her by the trunk and is mindful not to impose in her personal space, or rather, as much of her personal space as he can avoid invading. He settles around the curve of the tree from her settling onto his own haunches as he presses his shoulder against the rough bark of the willow’s trunk. “That was a heavy sigh,” Lorcan remarks about the noise she’d made when he’d been nearing the make-shift cover. He doesn’t necessarily expect her to divulge the reasons to him. He’s a stranger, after all, and it’s none of his business really. “I’m Lorcan, by the way.” He peers around the curve of the tree to glimpse at her as he offers his name and a small grin.

Secretly glad the male made the choice to join her under the willow tree, Ivy peered around its trunk and fixed him with a cheeky grin.  I've been told I have a flair for the dramatic, she drawled, shrugging her dainty pale shoulders as though she'd heard it all her life.  Can't say I disagree.  Nor would she disagree to the other, more colorful words used to describe her.  Ah, well.  Can't please everyone.

Ivy, she replied plainly, one brow raised as she gave Lorcan a once-over.  He looked quite healthy from what she could tell.  Though maybe it was just his coloring that threw her off - his silvery fur faded into something more smoky at points.  And look at that lovely marking on his head!  Not bad, she teased, pale green eyes slowly drifting down to meet his.  You must not be from around here.  Still unsure on the toxicity of the Fen's drinking water, Ivy assumed he had to at least live elsewhere in the Teekon Wilds.

Lorcan offers her a soft chuckle as she explains that she’s been told she has a flair for dramatics. “A flair for dramatics is not always a bad thing.” He hums with a contemplative twitch of his ears, the corner of his lip lifting ever so slightly. His youngest sister Nöel was a drama queen extraordinaire and Lorcan rather thinks he’s desensitized to it. He thinks it’s …cute in an amusing way. His ears cup forth and twitch as she remarks a “not bad” after she gives him a once over and he lets out a low snort. “Not bad,” He scoffs with a playfully albeit dramatic eye roll — he’s picked up a few of Nöel’s dramatic tricks himself but after spending the most time with her it’s only a given that they’d rub off on one another. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He offers smoothly as his dark orange gaze slides over her in a brisk once over and a devilish grin. For as narcissistic as Lorcan can be at times it’s not so far to assume that vainness lends to shallowness and his eye is drawn to the pretty. Ivy is not lacking in the pretty department in his opinion. “No,” He responds despite that he suspects it was likely a rhetorical question. “I just recently arrived here, actually.” And there is a part of him that is suddenly very homesick but mostly because leaving home had meant leaving Nöel, Vixen and Kitsune, the three of which had been undeniably the best part about living at home but they’d been too young to take with him and leaving them behind had been a necessary evil.

Well, if he didnt mind dramatic, she'd hardly argue.  Ivy knew she was the most dramatic of her siblings - dramatic in a bratty way when she was younger, anyway.  Each of the four had their own quirks and she often thought Mato's flair teetered the line between dramatic and just plain out-there.  He was at least pragmatic.  Nova had the same quality.  And Benjamin?  He was good, so genuniely good in every sense of the word.  She swallowed hard, distracted for a split second when a strong sense of lonliness swept through her, gone just as quickly as it had come.

My, my.  That was unpleasant!

Luckily it was easy for her to focus on Lorcan's playful voice.  Glad you think so, she replied, averting her gaze coyly.  An additional obvservation regarding her too-thin frame was on the tip of her tongue, but Ivy couldn't bring herself to voice that thought.  Such a thing might suggest she couldn't take care of herself.  What brought you here? she asked suddenly, honing in on his star-marked forehead for a second before locking her pale green eyes with his own orange.