The pack had grown considerably in their short span as a collective unit. Any Alpha would be proud of this accomplishment - these wolves were strong, hardy individuals. Kind-hearted. Wise. There wasn't a single bad seed among them. So far, everyone was cohesive. They worked their jobs, their specialities, and the days were pleasant. But Dawa did not see the greatness that was Northstar Vale; granted, she did not see anything
wrong with it either. It just
was.
Dawa had formed a new routine. It was different here than in Jokhang, where everything had been so regimented and carefully prepared; back before the accident, and before they had to flee. When the sight of the sky made her ponder, and the wind in the grass sounded like white noise. Before she became truly attuned to what was around her - now, the sky was something she barely thought of. The grass was just grass, filled with so many scents that her mind often got overwhelmed. Things were different. Now, Dawa woke and tended to herself in silence. She groomed her legs and her tail, she found the same patch of flowers every day and rolled to add that extra scent. Her legs propelled her six steps straight, eight steps left, four steps up the ridge every morning. To where a cache had been set up for her, and her alone.
Her breakfast changed every few days, but she did not complain. For an Alpha, the woman was far from powerful.
On this day, Dawa could not see the clouds that blocked the winter sky; but she felt the breeze, she smelled the icy chill, and knew that there was something amiss. She had tucked in against the cache and descended upon it with careful strokes of claws, uncovering the hidden gem beneath the soil - or what should have been there, but wasn't. Her paws met with air. The dank scent of earth indicated that the hole had not been covered, or perhaps it had been pilfered, and filled with snow. She would go without breakfast today.
The woman noticed her hunger, but she was lethargic; or something just as hollow. With a slump of her thin figure, Dawa rolled on to her side and lay prone next to the divot - unsure of what to do next. Perhaps someone was around who could help her? With a lift of her head, the hybrid let out a short yowl-like bark, and waited.
She heard a peculiar sound. It sounded as a coyote might, but there was a distinct, wolfish difference to it. Still, Anemone moved quicker for it, her eyes dark and her heart hungry. She doubted that any predator could get this deep without anyone else noting it but it made her no less careful in her stalk. It took no less than five minutes for Anemone to arrive, and when she did relief painted her features. Dawa was looking directly at her, but very blankly... and as she moved to avert her eyes, from the woman who was her superior, she noted that they were just a bright, clear blue. She had seen it before in an old woman while traveling. Blind.
Blind did not mean dumb, but it was peculiar to her that someone blind might be her superior. Anemone did not cease in her trek, circling the leader loosely and peering down into the sabotaged spot. Surely Dawa would know better than anyone what had taken it, were it not their own pack? Her leader merely lay there, and Anemone licked her chops. Dawa,
she greets, her voice warm. It is only because of the woman had been gracious enough to let her in that Anemone does not challenge her, something of owed loyalty. are you alright?
The call was heard but the individual who approached did not hold as familiar a scent as she was expecting; still, they were here. She was not alone. Dawa was dully aware of how
unpleasant being alone was. The stranger was no stranger after all; she held the scent of the pack, the scent of someone that the woman had briefly dealt with at the borders.
Anemone. Her voice rang true and Dawa lifted her head, letting out a shrill wine like that of a cub. Her stomach gurgled and popped beneath the pitched tones.
"I am not used to this," she commented with her monotonous voice,
"Tenzin used to tend to me. Raheerah guarded me. Now I am fending for myself." It was an observation. Another would may have held disappointment or self-pity within their voice, but not Dawa. She only remarked about the situation and rolled over - her paws connecting with the reaching roots of a nearby tree, and catching.
There was a brief silence that followed her explanation, and then a question.
"Will you help me? I am hungry." And there was nothing here for her to eat, as indicated by the empty hole nearby. The question drifted with the lightly falling snow, caught and muffled by the dreary weather. Dawa wasn't facing Anemone at this point but it didn't really matter; the woman was close. That was all she needed right now. How pathetic the woman was.
The others voice was no different from the first time they had met. This surprised Anemone, whose ears swiveled backward as though she might be regarding someone she did not know rather than herself. But there was no one but them, and she listened to each word her leader said. I am not used to this. Anemone's head cocks toward the right. When Dawa continues, Anemone finds her left ear leaning forward to catch each syllable the monotone wolf expelled. Now, she was fending for herself. There was a sharp gleam in her eye, but she was still.
Anemone listened to all Dawa said, and licked her lips in frustration. I will help you,
Anemone began peaceably, but as she continued there was a clear strain in her voice, Do you not worry for your position? If you cannot hunt, how can you fight?
There was clear worry there, along with the strain. Dawa had enabled Anemone to be a part of the Vale, and so she felt somewhat protective over the lanky, disabled woman. She also noted that she herself was a threat, but she withheld herself from transgressing against the wolf that had given her a home. For now, she was able to do so with relative ease; fortunately, she felt more protective over the frail leader than she did dominance at that point in time.
It was strange to have a leader with as many issues as Dawa, that was very true. Anemone's agreement to aid her was met with a short nod of the woman's head, which stopped in mid-motion when her ears caught the questions. Fighting? What would she need to fight for?
"I have Raheerah." Dawa responded blandly, with a roll of her jutting shoulders. "He protects me. He would never allow harm to befall me. If anyone challenged me," She swallowed a careful, almost thoughtful breath, "He would destroy them." Dawa had little understanding of the dragon's views or attitudes towards the other creatures in the Vale. She knew that he would heed her wishes due to his unfettered obsession with her; and that was enough. Dawa did not have to think about much.
"Hungry." She stated next, and reached across the soil in an awkward stretch; her belly exposed, the woman looked more like a desperate subordinate who was keen for approval - not the leader that she was supposed to be.
Raheerah. Her guardian. She blinks, and is blunt to Dawa. Although she does not know her very well, she knows that no one must be very honest with her to lead her to believe she could truly independently lead. You ought to learn some self-defense. If you wanted, I could help...
she offers, falters for a minute, then thinks. Some. I do not disagree that Raheerah would do as you say,
given that she knew him better than Anemone herself did, But you might be dead by the time he avenges you. You are our leader,
she encourages, wondering if one could instill will. It was her first duty, it would seem, as an adviser. But this was all she could do: advise. your longevity is required.
The death of a leader was hardly the ruin of any pack, but it would seem it was a requirement within this one given Raheerah would destroy any challenger. Then Dawa must be strong. Or the pack would crumble beneath the foundation of her frail weight.
Dawa again expressed her hunger, and Anemone's nostrils flared. Will you come with me?
she queries, taking a step to the side to give Dawa further room to rise (although she had more than enough). The gentle snowfall seemed to mute all other sounds around them, and their warm breath filled the chilled air.
If Tenzin could be compared to the
spiritual center of the pack, the brain, then Raheerah was the
physical, that much was obvious. He was the body, made to act as brute force. Dawa was thus forced in to the last place - the
heart, which she obviously lacked. Anemone was correct to assume that the pack was weaker as a whole with Dawa in her current state. She was no leader. She was a frail woman with the mind of a child, broken in to too many delicate shards.
The words of the advisor-to-be fell upon her and she nodded, but showed no true understanding. The pearls that were her eyes roamed in bored circles across the unseen white around her; settling briefly upon Anemone by happenstance, as she stood and shifted away from her prone location. "Will you come with me?" Anemone questioned midway through her rise. Dawa rolled to her chest and got to her feet, ready to follow, but unmoving.
"You cannot teach me." Spoke the cleric, with a raise of her head. Her eyes were open and in full and obvious view; she need not explain why she was untrainable. The crookedness of the woman's body and her lack of sight were evidence enough. Still, Dawa let out a sharp breath and took a careful step towards the sounds of Anemone's breathing. "But yes, I will follow."
The woman's impatience was met with Anemone's breath of conviction: Well, I can try.
At the very least, Anemone could teach the woman to scavenge for prey beneath the snow. Bigger game, perhaps not. I assume you know how to find prey?
With your nose, your ears... as she would find a wolf. Anemone did not think the woman stupid, but she wanted all of their bases covered. There were no tracks nearby with the fresh blanket of snow newly fallen, but there were a myriad of scents that the wind blew in. Thoughtfully, Anemone peers over her shoulder and asks her leader, What do you hunger for?
Her strides are not long at all, wanting Dawa to be able to keep up. She takes great care in this, her ears swiveling backward to hear the woman's light yet trudging step. Anemone is quiet, one ear forward now, one back. There were plenty of things around them... now what did her leader crave?
It had never been required of the cleric to learn to hunt. It put her at a disadvantage, but when in Jokhang, there were many who could perform such a task. She was meant for healing, and healing alone. Anemone's questions were met with silence as Dawa struggled across the snow. She worked her limbs and left an irregular pattern behind herself - catching claws against hard and icy earth, or the odd bumps of rocks and roots.
"Meat," of course.
She was panting softly, making puffs of condensation rise from her off-center nose. "Birds, mice, rats, it is not important." Although a part of her chemistry caused a minor infatuation with these smaller critters, thanks to the part of her that was true filth - her coyote blood boiled in her veins. The girl could hear nothing. There was snow and it filtered the sound. The occasional drop of snow from an overburdened tree branch was all she could catch upon the air, but even that was swallowed up.
How was she supposed to hunt in her condition, when even the weather was against her?
Mice are the easiest to find when the snow is not falling as it is now. When the ground hardens, they burrow and create pathways for themselves. They are easy to hear if you concentrate with your ear on the earth, moving... but you must remain still yourself. When they are beneath you is the best time to strike... your face, in particular.
Anemone continues to move, going slower now that she notes Dawa's tiredness. Endurance was another thing they would work on together... she continues to speak, unsure if her leader even listened, but hoping beyond hope that she did. You can hear birds when they land. And they are not discreet; they think that with their wings they can escape the fate of our jaws. But you can hear them move away, hear them take-off. Perhaps you might be a better hunter of them than I am, knowing the precise point in which their wings might fail them. I rely on nothing but my ears for birds,
rarely did she actively seek them. They were not her favored delicacy. In any case, that ought to be good for Dawa; sight was unimportant for the flying rats.
For now, she would find her leader a hare. Although she had not mentioned it, it would be easiest to spot, she thought. Mice were too small and surely birds would not fly and so be nesting in their safehavens... but hares were not so bright. Hares were risk takers. I do not know how you would do hunting a rabbit or a hare yet. You are very uncoordinated,
she says without a hint of coldness in her voice. But perhaps we can fix this somehow.
Anemone was not a miracle worker, but she would put her effort into Dawa if Dawa desired it.
Anemone pauses. She turns her muzzle to poke gently at the shoulder of Dawa and rumbles lowly. At the very least, their wolfish language was universally, inherently, instinctively known. Stop, the sound meant. And the radars atop Anemone's head went to work, the crisp, falling snow quietly landing. Her nostrils quivered and her whiskers twitched as her senses went to work, turning and tilting her head every now and again to better hear or sense things with.
One would think that the more Anemone spoke, the easier it would be for the blind woman to follow her; alas, Dawa relied heavily upon touch, as abhorrent as the sense usually was. The snow silenced her steps and Dawa was forced to listen to the speech - although there was little indication that the words sank in. When Anemone reached out and touched her nose to the Alpha's shoulder, the skin there flared with an angry spark of pain. Dawa cringed and bowed herself in to a halt, coiling against her unmoving rear end so that she could have space. The pain drifted through her muscles and gradually numbed, in which case her scowling face became placid once more. There was no real way to correct Dawa's reactive brain, save to avoid touching her. This was something that the pack wolves would gradually learn.
It was the exaggerated reaction that caused Anemone's lips to defensively curl, expecting Dawa to snap aggressively at her. When this did not occur, Anemone relaxes herself, pausing in her pursuit. She did not know what had just happened; that touch hurt her leader so severely. What happened...?
she asks gently, not sure if it had been her or something else. But it was not as though anything else could cause her to flinch... well, perhaps a very loud sound? No, she would have heard something, too.
But she does not keep her gaze on the woman long, hearing something move every now and again a good distance away. Her tail sweeps left and right. She is quiet as she whispers, I am sure you can hear it as well as I can.
To check if the other was listening, Anemone requests, Turn where you can hear meat.
The woman's question was an obvious one, but not something Dawa had an interest in answering. Her
fits were still an oddity to her as well; she had no idea what could cause such pain to shoot through her nerves upon a simple touch. Her uneven silence brought with it a moment of clarity - where Anemone seemed to hear something else, something beneath the snow. Dawa could feel her shifting upon the snow; the soft shifting of snow and the crunch accompanied by it, along with a change in the way she breathed. Anemone listened, and so Dawa attempted to listen as well. Her body naturally shifted so that it mirrored her tutor, regardless of Dawa's ability to see that.
There was a scurrying sound within the earth (or at the very least, under the snow), but it wasn't as close as Dawa would have liked. She couldn't possibly catch the target on her own. The broken girl's ears fell back against her head for a couple of moments. An instinctual response that followed with the abrupt raise and pivot of her ears to cup at the noise again. Hungry her mind hissed at her; but she said nothing, only waited.
Dawa's response was immediate, in line with her own. Anemone was very pleased by this, and would have companionably nudged her were it not for the fact that her other form of contact was met with a negative response. Anemone worried that Dawa would not last long in her position. Her thoughts became less aggressive and more protective. She was sure that Raheerah was more than capable of handling any aggressors, but Dawa made herself a target with her position alone.
Walk as though you are in hiding,
she requests, taking a couple of steps forward, And do not wish to be found.
Anemone's own steps changed, lighter on the earth, taking great, great care to not be heard. Her ear swivels toward Dawa. If she could not follow this instruction, Anemone would have to hunt without her and teach her how to move another time. At the very least, Dawa aced the first test.
Dawa was meant to be a teacher in this new place. Showing others how to find herbs and what to do with them. Yet here she was, being taught by someone beneath her - not that she believed that Anemone was truly beneath her or anything. The woman was accustomed to being waited on by Tenzin in their old home; to think that now, she was learning to do it for herself! It did not excite her, it couldn't. But there was an uncertainty.
She obeyed the instructions given to her, and tried to walk without making too much noise. This was difficult because of the curve of her previously broken limbs; Dawa wondered if anyone noticed just how broken her body really was, and if they wondered about it. She never thought about telling anyone since nobody ever asked - and how would the pack react to learn that Raheerah had been the one behind her frailty? Her legs had been broken and they had been set, but they were twisted and crooked things. Like old branches on a tree.
Steps were careful but awkwardly placed. Dawa was not used to this type of travel; she was focused upon the act of creeping and forgot to listen for the prey, and she ended up in the wrong area entirely - herding the prey towards Anemone by default. The woman gave a murmuring whine as she sank in to the snow, settling her rear down upon the earth. Believing herself to have failed, Dawa did not bother continuing.
Anemone did not observe Dawa too much. It had never been her forte, but Anemone herself would learn just as much as she would teach. Anemone watched Dawa move, curious as to why each step caused even her to ache. She shuddered, but the woman was doing well... Anemone was distracted. It was when the sound of their prey came to life again, racing toward her, that she came to life herself, her eyes falling onto the snowy earth. There was a hare beneath them, and when it was close, Anemone jumped upward and thrust her face into the earth, jaws snapping and clinging to the scruff of the creature. She withdrew it, shook it, and a snap could be heard. It was done.
She dropped the creature to the ground, waving her tail. Follow the scent... as quiet as you can, again. You did well. You brought it to me.
This time Anemone focused fully on Dawa, licking her bloodied chops as she observed.
There was movement, a flurry of it. First beneath her, then around her - and Dawa could only crouch where she sat, waiting for it to end. There was the crunch of snow and a snap like the sound of a small branch breaking, then quiet. Dawa was approaching even before Anemone requested it of her; but then with the instruction to to do quietly, the woman froze, and began to practice her steps. The smell of blood and hare became paramount to her senses. The Alpha, with her head low, drank in the smell with great inhalations - enough to make her stomach rumble and gurgle loudly. All this work for a simple rabbit. "It is yours," She comments in the bland tone of voice she is known for; her ears flick back and her head naturally turns, deferring to the woman as she did the hunting. "I eat from caches because they belong to all." She was not trying to be difficult. Anemone did the work and she deserved the rewards, not her. Not for this pathetic attempt.