Barrow Fields castles in the sand, cradles in the trees

@Screech ♥

As much as she loved her island, Coelacanth still found herself returning fairly frequently to the Teekon mainland. It was her intention to visit Ravensblood Forest with Stockholm and perhaps Faeryn and Komodo at her side, but for now she was cavorting about, chasing birds and acting like a six-month-old puppy. It was perhaps fortunate that she was mute, because if she hadn’t been, she would’ve been making a ridiculous amount of noise. She wheeled around, snapping harmlessly at a congregation of irritated seabirds, and ricocheted like a pinball off several of the larger knolls.

There was very little that Screech wanted to do now that he had descended the mountain slopes aside from eat, or maybe sleep, but he most certainly wanted to find Redshank and let him know what was up. The boy couldn't have gone far. He had thrown his support behind his brother and been out of Sunspire within the day because of it - more or less - and he wasn't going to waste any time now. The field reached towards the jagged coastline and around the mountains, and he couldn't see far because of how flat it was, but at least there weren't many trees for him to run in to or cliffs to fall off of; he meandered along until a figure dashing about made him pause and tilt his head.

He knew that silhouette. Those moves - the stranger was dancing as it chased the birds, and Screech's mind flit back to the dark and moody images of Coelacanthe on the beach. Hey! He shouted as he launched himself through the grass towards her, his tail helicoptering as we went, Hey it's -- it's me, umm, Mou! The boy found it curious that she was here harassing birds rather than up the mountain, maybe trying to make nice with Rannoch in order to get entry and shelter; but she seemed content down here, and perhaps had other reasons for not finding a home.

“Hey!”

Coelacanth turned her delicate head mid-jeté, her Neptune eyes tracking the golden-eyed lamb as he surged through the fields. Her natural surefootedness served her well as she dropped softly to the earth, keenly aware of where to place each catlike paw, and danced delightedly to meet him. Oddly enough, they shared the same unspoken thought: she was curious as to why he was here and not on the mountain with the other grayscale wolves who resembled him and cared for him so. “Mou,” she whispered, and closed the distance immediately. She had become comfortable enough around the younger male not to fear his rebuke, and therefore made to nuzzle at his cheek and lick at his chin without hesitation, making sure to approach from the left side.

All things considered, Screech was not a physically affectionate individual - usually. He had been through hell on numerous occasions and through those trials, learned that physicality was usualy the precursor to pain; yet the same could not be said for his dealings with this dancing shadow. She was only ever kind. Her touch was always soft, her voice sweet and quiet, and even now he knew better than to sink in to the sensation of her nose upon his cheek, but he did it anyways. Screech enjoyed her attention more and more each time he was graced with it. No matter what he had been through, Coelacanth had a way of easing his very soul.

There was a curious look to her now, though, which Screech may have studied a little bit too long. He assumed she was curious about why he was there - little did he know, that was called deductive reasoning, and his sense of intuition wasn't far off the mark. Without a prompt from her, he took a deep breath (relishing her scent) and said, I left them. I know, I know, it was stupid -- I'm stupid, most of the time. But it wasn't right. I thought I'd fit there and I didn't. As he said this, it was as if everything compounded and linked up in his mind, and the tone of his voice dropped. I'm all alone now. Maybe that's better.

The palpable dip in Screech’s mood had a sobering effect on the inkdark empath. The eager thrum of her body and tail quieted, though it could not still completely; and the bright exuberance of her Neptune eyes took on a softer, more compassionate glow. She shook her head in negation as he berated himself, one paw lifting high as she shifted her slight weight to her hindquarters. Her inclination was to sling one spindly forearm over his shoulders and draw him in, but he was too tall and she was too wary to be that forward. Bashfully, she set her paw down again but scooted closer anyway. Tufted ears skimmed back upon her skull as she made to preen gently at the fur at the base of his left ear, whuffling softly as she drank in his heavy loneliness and embraced it as her own.

A tuneless, airy whine whispered timorously from her lips as she worried over him, drawing back only after one catlike paw inched forward so that her toes touched his. She didn’t want to break the physical contact, but she did want to look at him — and to have him look at her in turn. Decisively she shook her head — she certainly didn’t think it was better for him to be alone! — and wondered how to tell him that he definitely needed to come to Wheeling Gull Isle for some sorely needed R&R. She did her best, turning face and body toward the island with one forepaw tucked against the sloping curve of her rib cage and her tail and head held straight as an arrow. “My h-home,” she whispered, her voice as frail as a reluctant maybe, sweeping into a fluid arabesque. One feathered forelimb outstretched while its opposite hind arched backwards in a graceful hyperextension; she balanced there on the tiptoes of her grounded limbs for a prolonged moment.

A legato croon of her sleek musculature drew her into a more natural posture, and she looked at Screech to assess how much he’d understood of her awkward display.

Her voice was so quiet - she was so quiet, so passive, compared to him. Like his opposite in almost every way. It took a second for Screech to really hear what she said; it didn't register at first, and afterwards as it dawned on him what she was saying, he wasn't sure how to comprehend it. Had he found her at home? Was the beach her home? Was she inviting him...?

Home -- with you? Maybe she just meant they could be home together, and it was a nice sentiment but Screech wasn't sure if that was right. She had a family already - she was a Corten, they were probably waiting for her somewhere. But the temptation was there. Wherever those wolves were was better than here. He could only think back to the family gathering he had invaded, and felt that same mixture of glee and jealousy all over again.

Was he an asshole for being jealous of what she had? Probably a little. She was offering him a chance to have it, though. Having exhausted all other options, he seriously considered it - for about sixty seconds. I'm... I want to go with you, I do. And find your Cortens again - they were really nice, but, he swallowed his thoughts and tried to sort through them a little bit before they blurted from him as per usual, and was at least a little successful. I keep trying with these people, I keep expecting them to want me, but they don't, and I think.. I need to figure my shit out. Do things myself for a while. I'm sorry - you're, um, you're really sweet and your family... He looked at the dirt and felt suddenly sick to his stomach for refusing the sweet sea-sprite, but maybe when all was said and done he would end up with her and the Cortens. Say hi for me when you see them, okay?

Coelacanth was shaking her head before he even denied her fully, because she tasted his refusal in the way he weighed the word “home” like it was some foreign currency he didn’t know how to convert — the way the pause drew on for what seemed like a string of forevers — the way he didn’t say no aloud but breathed it into being with the heaviness of his one-eyed gaze.

“Mou,” she pressed in a timorous whisper, leaning forward to nose at his cheek, the quickened whisking of her tail betraying her fear that she might have scared him away. “Wan’ you. Friend,” she told him plainly. She wanted him around and she always would, but she had a but of her own: “no keep you,” she breathed, trying to be reassuring, “show. Show home. My home.” If being on his own was what he wanted, the sheepdog would support him wholeheartedly — but she also wanted to show him the island in case he ever found himself in need of sanctuary.

“Peas?” she begged unabashedly in a silken susurrus.

My god she's so cuuute T____T

If he said no to that soft, heartfelt plea then he really would be a monster. The more she spoke the more he felt his heart disintegrate, and he had to mentally scramble to keep himself together - it seemed like his answer had hurt her, and that was the last thing he'd ever want to do. Not to someone so pure. 

His ears pointed sideways off his head and then flipped back, and he nosed through her fur to try and assuage his own intimate guilt for making her plead the way she did; but her words, the actual information she conveyed, that finally registered within him and Screech felt so much more guilt. Here he was, lost in himself and claiming to be unwanted, and yet she was here to tell him otherwise! God, he was an asshole, no wonder he was all alone.

Okay, he finally managed, a hushed variation of his usual gravel pit of a voice. I'll come for a visit, I promise.

Coelacanth had grown to associate Titmouse with a certain heaviness — a brooding darkness that she could not assuage. It didn’t stop her from trying, though; she preened gently at his withers as his nose threaded through her feathery fur and wondered why he seemed to simultaneously sink into the comfort she offered while trying to deny himself any vestige of it. He seemed to need kindness so desperately, so she couldn’t understand why he appeared to shy away from it. Her unfair bias and the way he told his tale made her look at Rannoch and Liffey in a different light — perhaps the trio hadn’t been as close as she’d initially thought? — but she couldn’t discount the possibility that the young wolf was simply making things harder on himself than they needed to be.

The tiny sheepdog reached up, and if left uninterrupted would nibble teasingly at the base of the boy’s ear. “Now?” she wheedled mischievously, wondering if she could coax him across the drawbridge to her citadel before he disappeared and she couldn’t find him to change his mind.

Had he known what was in store for him in the next few weeks, maybe he would've taken her up on that offer. Maybe he wouldn't have found it difficult to make up his mind - get away from here, or stay? Build a family with Redshank, or flee to the island with the nymph? Her pleading did not help; her touch made him relax and sigh against her shadowed form, wanting nothing more than her company for as long as he could have it. If the boy had been more knowledgable about his feelings, he would've recognized how strong his crush was for the seasprite - alas, he was oblivious, and chalked it up to his poor mental state.

No, not now, he murmured in to her fur, and then began to pull away - she was like a siren, or a creature from a fae realm. One taste and you'd be stuck forever. But soon, he promised, as he drifted apart from her.

Coelacanth was disappointed, but her desire to please Titmouse outweighed her desire to press the issue. “Soon,” she whispered, her feathered tail wriggling deferentially. To lighten the mood, and hopefully coax him out of his funk for at least a little while, she dipped into a playful bow and leaned forward to bump her nose against the toes of his left forepaw. Then she whisked away, darting back as though to make sure he was following. When she was certain he was on her trail — whether or not he was chasing her or merely following along — she trotted further inland as though to prove her intentions were not to trick him. She only made it a few yards, though.

There, standing before the twain, was a young, wounded buck who’d seen better days. One hind leg was swollen, its scent sour with infection, and his left flank was battered with leathery-looking rips. It seemed he’d been the target of wolves before, but he’d managed to fight them off or get away. A glint in Seelie’s eyes suggested to Titmouse that today, he would not be so lucky.

For now, silence and play were enough to assuage his constant turmoil. Coelacanth was a welcome distraction from what he had left behind, but she was charming enough to make Screech reconsider his future - whatever fate may have in store for him, deep down he wished to be somewhere safe and welcoming, and he felt that Seelie's mysterious home could be that place. But he was not yet ready for it.

So they chased, they played, and then - out of the nothingness of the wilderness, there came a body. It was hulking but it was alive, and stared at them as they passed; Screech paused in his run and took notice of it, but wasn't about to give up their game until Seelie gave him the look, a hungry glance that made him more enamored with her.

They set themselves upon this weakened target with haste. Even with darkness bordering the edge of his vision, Screech could help the dark dancer in this — and soon they would feast together until ready to burst, just like when they'd met upon the beach.

It wasn’t an easy kill in the slightest. Even with the buck being in such sorry shape, Seelie simply didn’t have the jaw strength or the body weight to contribute as much as a full-blooded wolf might have. Her talent was in herding, but she adapted to their situation as best she could: she leapt and snapped, and when she could, she hung on and clung like a burr. Already wounded and feverish with infection, the buck was overwrought enough that bleeding him and exhausting him strategy enough to bring him down — and at long last, sides heaving and tongues lolling, Seelie and Titmouse were victorious. She would have to bring some of the seawolves ashore to retrieve what they could of this bounty, but for now, Seelie flopped down and urged Titmouse to eat first. She was a little overheated despite the chill, and she typically didn’t like eating first anyway.

Once both Seelie and Titmouse sectioned off their portions and ate their fill, they spent some time being adorable together — probably grooming each other or something else painfully cute — before reluctantly parting ways, she to her island and he to his sister ohoho next adventure.