Wildfire sat up with a groan, catching her breath and gathering her bearings. She peered up the slope from which she had just tumbled, a little surprised she hadn't broken her neck. It was steep and slippery, covered in loose scree. Then pain pulsed through her and she winced, glancing down at herself. None of her limbs were broken, thank goodness, but judging by the tightness and pain in her sides, she might have bruised some ribs. She drew in a slow, deep breath to test this theory, then hissed it back out through her teeth.
You friggin' klutz, she chastised herself, standing slowly and carefully. She sipped in shallow breaths, looking at her surroundings. She was near the bottom of a forested mount, where she had spent the better part of a day and night. She had actually slept in a dead, burnt tree and still smelled a bit like ash. Wildfire figured trying to climb upward again was a bad idea. It would be safest and smartest to head out toward the very flat, very even plain, where she couldn't fall down and break any more body parts.
With a grunt, she began to move along in the ridge's shadow.
Returning from Larksong's borders, Warbone took his medicine in stride and retained that he felt nary a blow to his pride. He had to trivialize it; so it came that he had merely been charitable to Octavia— made sure she had returned safely to the Grotto, as well— and he now ignored his gaping loneliness by focusing on the fact that she would show him kindness if he should ever find a need for it. He blinked, turning his mind away from the thought entirely as he realized his path had brought him back towards the Ridge. He looked over his shoulder, towards Sleeping Dragon, and as he did so, a flash of red became caught in his peripheral, and he found himself watching Wildfire fall.
Taking up a steady lope, he saw that she got up quick enough, seemingly shaking off her tumble (as if it happened all the time!) before continuing on her way— and at twenty feet away he slowed and hailed her with a greeting bark; sonorous, and warmer than he intended. It was getting harder to mask his desire for company. The Dragons had completely ruined his desire to be alone. "I suppose that is one way to get to know the slopes, little Fire," he said, when he was near enough, coming to a loose halt some respectable length away.
She ambled along at a leisurely pace, seeing no particular reason to hurry. She shuffled to a stop when she heard someone approaching, turning in a wide, awkward arc to avoid twisting her rib cage. When her amber eyes clapped upon Warbone, a small smile tugged at her lips. Then she sighed and rolled her eyes at his comment, though it was directed not at him but at herself.
"I don't remember if you witnessed it," she replied, "but I actually fell on my ass the first time we met." She laughed, which hurt, so she quickly put a stop to that with a pained grimace. Her eyes momentarily explored his face as she tried to recollect. She vaguely remembered referencing her clumsiness during that initial encounter. "I hurt my ribs," she told him in the next breath. "But pain is par for the course these days," she muttered under her breath.
"I did not," he admitted after a moment. "Although, now I find myself marveling at your predilection for attending the slopes." He looked at her too, a bemused sort of expression on his dauntless face, and his tail swaying slowly. "If I recall, each time I have met you, it is surrounded by cliffs of some sort." Warbone's eyes drifted to her side, perhaps looking for blood, but then he supposed she was only bruised; and in body only, as she seemed too used to such an occurrence that it no longer bruised her emotionally. "There are willow trees north of us," he said then, gesturing with his muzzle. "Chewing their leaves or bark is will relieve aches." It was information for her to tuck away for later or explore now— Warbone was merely chatting because a renewed yearning within him told him that it was what he wanted.
"Were you headed somewhere?"
He pointed out her affinity for slopes and she scrunched up her face, huffing a dry laugh. "I guess I like to live life on the edge. Did you know I was born on a mountain? I've lived on them all my life. I have no excuse." Her face puckered in an entirely different way for a moment, as she inadvertently reminded herself of her misfortunes, before she quickly rearranged it into a tight smile as Warbone dispensed some handy medical advice.
"You're into medicine?" she wondered, tilting her head slightly, then bobbing it at his question. "Yeah, I'm headed to the nearest even ground," Wildfire replied emphatically, pointing at the nearby plain. She knew she didn't have to explain why. "How about you?" she added, groaning a little under her breath as she resumed walking, wondering how it was she'd run into him twice now in the same week. It was a small world after all?
He made a light snorting noise, and his eyes glimmered slightly as he appeared genuinely amused by her admittance. Such a small wolf grew up on a mountain, had lived on one, and seemed to frequent them often despite her ungainliness upon the slanted ground. He would've thought she had grown bigger, with the work that was required to sustain mountain-life, but her size was actually quite ideal for the nooks and crannies offered by peaks... except she didn't seem to have the grace or balance to utilize such skill. The adorable irony of it was not lost, even on a wolf like Warbone, who might have smiled greatly were he inclined to such thing.
"Not particularly," he drawled. "One just comes to learn things when the need to manage pain seems constant... It also helps that I have met quite some knowledgeable wolves in my time." He took a lank pace at her side, accommodating for both her height and injuries, but when she returned his question, he found himself silent for a long time. "I have resumed my traveling, I suppose," Warbone sighed at length. "I returned to Sleeping Dragon after I last ran into you, and then found myself at odds with my superior. Rather than disrespect her, verbally or otherwise, I took my leave."
He felt fickle before Wildfire now; mercurial and not dependable. His status had changed and reverted quick enough to give him whiplash— and he was certainly suffering from some side effect of that now.
His unexpected answer caused Wildfire to slow, then stop, blinking sideways at him. "Thur?" she blurted quietly, her mind immediately flitting to their recent encounter. She found herself feeling defensive of the dark, alluring woman. It didn't particularly make sense, since Wildfire had met both Thuringwethil and Warbone on the very same expedition and spent a roughly equal amount of time in their respective companies. She just felt a certain and inexplicable attachment with the dark Heda. But she felt like she'd struck up a decent friendship with Warbone too, so mostly the news just felt more disappointing than anything.
"What was it about?" she wondered, trying not to take sides outwardly, though Wildfire did say, "I consider her a friend. She even offered me a spot in Drageda. I'm not ready to commit to another pack yet." Her voice softened and lowered as she spoke the last few words.
He nodded, one in the same. He personally held no hard feelings over the way he had left Sleeping Dragon, but it was intuitive for him to assume that the raven queen wouldn't have appreciated his wordless departure. That being said, he wasn't a wolf that used words in disagreements, and because he had zero desire to ever lay jaws on Thuringwethil, his abandonment had been a prettier choice by comparison. His image was tarnished, but this mattered very little to Warbone. Even if he was a deserter, he could not be called useless or even a coward. His choice had been out of respect, more than anything. Respect for her and what she had built— he would leave her to it— and it seemed that her influence had not been missed on young Wildfire. His tail wagged faintly at some distant thought of them individually and then aside, but his train of thought moved on quickly.
"The right of a sickened— if not dying— wolf, and her right to keep a rank she could not defend. My poor timing was not appreciated, but I am not a male made of subtly you must understand, and instead of regarding me levelly, she threatened me. Rather than battle with her over a difference of opinion, I chose to no longer follow her and the choices she made that I did not agree with." He wasn't too concerned with what Wildfire made of it, or if he seemed ignorant to her, somehow, but he blinked at her regardless: searching. "She is a stunning wolf in her own right, but aside from our only verbal disagreement, she made other questionable decisions in my time there that withdrew my trust of her." Warbone could respect the girl, but not follow. Not when they differed so vastly on a fundamental level.
She wanted a coalition beneath her; a mass shield around her specifically. He just wanted a comfortable life, made without the complication of favoritism and presumption. "When you find yourself ready, I think you would be well off there. And it is a sort of mountain aside... your favorite," his eyes gleamed, dryly humorous.
Although he technically spoke ill of her command, it became clear that Warbone still respected Thuringwethil, which helped settle the strange, heated sensation in Wildfire's chest. She listened closely, head canted ever so slightly to the left, eyes narrowed in concentration. She did not expect the recommendation he made at the end, so her eyes flew to his own for a second before dropping again. She directed a small smile at the ground, appreciating his joke.
"Perhaps I should go in another direction, seeing as mountains have not exactly worked out for me," she mused wryly, biting back the sigh that wanted to chase the words out of her mouth. "I have another option. I probably have countless options, really. I just don't want to make a decision too hastily. And while it does get lonely," Wildfire admitted, thinking of how much she simultaneously feared and desired close connections once more, "the freedom is, well... healing." She lifted a shoulder in a light shrug, not really wanting to elaborate beyond that.
"I do not believe a decision can be hasty," he mused. "We all have the freedom to change our minds at all, so who is to say whether a choice is made too quickly or not. I think you should just follow your gut... Or heart. I prefer gut. My heart is such a fickle thing." Warbone wrinkled his nose, finding that he spoke far more candidly to Wildfire than he did anyone else. She had yet to strike him as weak or unintelligent, so he felt every inclination to share with her as freely as his tongue wished.
"You mentioned options— well here is another to your reserves," he ventured, ears erecting attentively atop his crown. "I intend to make a claim here soon. I would like to settle within a days travel of the ocean— I find the salt air to be cleansing— and if you were so inclined, you would have a place with me. And in knowing your worth, as both a scout and confidant, you would bear a rank where none would question your absence, should the desire for freedom strike you. If I understand nothing else, it is that a sense of freedom hangs tantamount to all except the instinct for survival." It was personal freedom, after all, that had prompted him to leave the Dragons and their stiffling command. For while Warbone believed someone needed to be in charge, he did not find his position to be influid.
If he felt a wolf were more worthy of a task than him, then he would easily relinquish it. "With your many options, however, I do not presume you to choose that; and I would be just as grateful to mark the bottom of your totem pole of mere consideration, if you will."
If she followed her heart, Wildfire would probably try to go back to Moonspear. Logically, she knew there was nothing left for her there and that Charon would have, by now, turned all of her former pack mates against her, including Floki. It was his way. That left her gut, which didn't really seem to be pointing in any particular direction yet. It did tell her to tread carefully, considering everything she had been through recently.
Warbone took her by surprise again, mentioning his intention to lay his own claim. It reminded her a bit uncomfortably of Charon's invitation way back in the day. Wildfire pushed that thought out of her mind hastily, focusing on her companion's words. She wondered what he meant about rank, if he would keep her so high that no one would dare question her or so low that nobody would care what she did. She appreciated his mindfulness on the matter either way.
The way he referenced her many options caused her eyes to flick to his face again. Her lips twitched at the corners. "I mean, don't I technically have dozens of choices, now that I'm a nomad? I could settle just about anywhere," the yearling replied, pausing before adding, "Well, anywhere that would take me anyway. And that's just here in the Teekon Wilds. What if I left?" What if, indeed? The thought simultaneously intrigued and terrified her.
"You have the entire world at your paws, Wildfire," he rumbled faintly, feeling the foreign pull of a smile on one side of his mouth. "There is an immense pleasure to be found in the life of a wanderer. I would know, having done it more than half my life, but just as I know that, I know there is also a great deal to be lost in such ceaseless movement. While I do not suspect the ocean gets lonely in al its sway, we are what we are, and while wolves may enjoy time spent abroad, it is not the environment in which we flourish." Not him, at least. He was good at it surely, but there was no pleasure in moving so much that lasting relationships could not take root. He remembered many from his journey, but not one he would lay down his life for, here and now. And Warbone yearned for such a calling.
"I would trade the road for the honor to protect and serve those I care for most, on any day."
She turned it over carefully, inspecting it from several different angles. Yes, there was part of her that itched to travel, ripping up her remaining roots and letting the wind take her wherever it would. But then she inevitably though of her family at Redhawk Caldera, the many friends she had made while venturing around this particular stretch of wilderness. Could she leave all of that behind, possibly forever? That thought left her cold. It also stopped her in her tracks, literally. The soreness in her ribs might have contributed as well.
"I think I'd like to settle down somewhere again," she thought aloud. "What you just described—living somewhere but being welcome to wander—that's what I had at both the caldera and Moonspear. I could obviously have it again somewhere else." Wildfire smiled faintly. "I just need a little more time, I think, to be by myself and weigh my choices. I appreciate your offer, by the way; not sure if I said that already."
After giving herself a moment to breathe, she began to plod again, asking next, "So where are these trees with the leaves I can chew to make me feel better?" Her goldenrod eyes scanned across the plain.
He paused as she did, nodding quietly as she mulled over his words aloud, and then verbalized her appreciation for the offer. For this, he had nothing to stay. His offer stood, and he would like to think that it always would, but he would've been just as happy to see her off to the Dragons, as he had earlier encouraged. Something about the (clumsy) girl made him feel faintly protective, and highly aware of vulnerable she was without a pack at her back. Though for some reason, he did not doubt that young Wildfire had a legion of friends ready and willing to come to her aid from all across the countryside if she needed it— a pack was basically the same thing, if not a more centralized set of companions.
"Come," he rumbled gently, turning north and setting a carefully slow pace for the willow forest.
She expected him to lead her out onto the plain but Warbone stuck close to the mountains on their left, following the range's natural curve. Wildfire spotted the forest off in the distance and felt a twinge of relief. It wasn't too far away. Her ribs were aching awfully and she just wanted to sit still and get some rest. She wondered how much her companion's willow bark would help with the pain.
"If you're not particularly into medicine, then how do you know this works?" Wildfire wondered as she ambled along in the male's shadow. "Did you just randomly decide to chew on a willow one day, then discover its magical healing properties?" There was a slight teasing note in her voice, though it faded quickly as the very act of inhaling and exhaling was becoming incredibly uncomfortable. She needed to save her breath.
Warbone snorted at her light jest, not so much because of the fact it had been a joke, but more because it was a silly concept. He had eaten the bark of a tree once, but that had been during a particularly desperate winter, where he had gone without a meal for almost a near to a week. He didn't particularly want to recall that depressing year faced after losing the love of his life. "Funny," he mumbled, tail lashing and his face changing marginally to suggest a smile was hidden there. An ear flicked, catching Wildfire's rather labored breathing, and his pace adjusted instinctively. "But no, little Fire. I was told of their uses, just as I have told you, and found the advice quite effective. It can make you feel pretty tired, and you will need to eat to settle your stomach later, but the pain will ebb greatly."
They did not have to travel too much longer before reaching the willow grove, and the male was more than happy to continue in relative silence with the girl at his side. The first tree they met became molested by Warbone's claws, as he began scratching loose decent slivers of bark and then pulling them free with his teeth. "Get some of the greenest leaves you can see, and chew and swallow," he told her as he worked. As semi-evergreens, the willow trees were never completely bare, though they had thinned considerably during winter. Gratefully, they were beginning to bloom once more, and fresher leaves were sprouting.
Earning himself two small slabs of wood, and padded to Wildfire and deposited them near her. "The bark is more concentrated. Gnaw on those, too."
She didn't speak again until they reached the grove. Wildfire took a seat as Warbone went to fetch some leaves and bark, her amber eyes resting gratefully on the muscular slope of his back. She tried to breathe through the pain, even though it was utterly counter-intuitive. Each breath sent a shooting pain through her, as if there was a knife lodged into her ribs. She hoped none of them was broken, else it might collapse a lung and then she'd really be in trouble. Wildfire was no medic, though she assumed they were just badly bruised, else she probably wouldn't even be able to move.
"My sister's a healer," she shared when Warbone returned with bits of foliage. She inspected them with eyes and nose, then slurped the greenest leaf into her mouth and began to chew. It didn't taste good but it didn't taste too awful either. "I used to help her collect herbs and stuff when we were kids. We even kept a garden." Talking about her sister made her miss Raven and wonder about her whereabouts, though she said nothing more on the subject as she took a sheaf of bark into her teeth and began to gnaw.
Warbone sat, watching Wildfire imbibe the given remedy between revealing new bits of fact about herself and the tapestry that had become her life. His tail thumped on the ground quietly, recalling his own siblings, and how several of his own sisters had taken up the healing business— a lot of it had been needed in Tall Timbers— but he wasn't inclined to talk about the relatives he had gone several years without, and had thought about too sparingly to be called concerned with the family he had abandoned. The word "garden" hung with him, though, and olive eyes wandered through Hushed Willows, noting a tranquility to the place that seemed fitting of the word that had unwittingly become prevalent in his thoughts.
"You did not wish to take up the trade yourself?" he asked after a long moment pooled between them, turning his head slowly back towards the prone wolf. "I imagine you need this type of knowledge... more than most," he remarked dryly, eyes shining as he made use of her curreant predicament to encourage a career choice that involved protecting herself rather than one— like scaling foreign mountains— that caused her harm.
At his playful jab, Wildfire paused in her chewing to level him with a playful glare. She then spat out the moistened hunk of bark and replied, "Is this where I say touché?" Her nostrils flared in a silent snort, since actual laughter would hurt too much. "I was actually a naturalist when I was little. A warrior too. Neither of them suited me as I grew up, though, and I was never very invested in what Rave was doing." Wildfire shrugged gingerly. "I have mad respect for the field but I'm now a hunter and scout through and through. And I'm too busy getting hurt to fix myself, much less others," she quipped dryly.
Feeling she had done enough chewing, Wildfire now eased very carefully onto her belly. She gasped when the position sent bursts of pain through her midsection, then rolled slightly to rest her weight on her right elbow. That alleviated some of the peculiar pressure on her insides and she let out a long, low sigh. Hopefully the combination of rest and Warbone's remedy would help with the pain, else hunting would be particularly difficult. And there were no handy stockpiles when you were a lone wolf.
That made Wildfire squint thoughtfully at her caretaker, remembering how he had shared his meal so easily the last time, and now his time and knowledge. She felt suddenly indebted to him. She already intended to consider his offer seriously, yet this situation made her feel like maybe she owed him. That thought made her chest hurt in a way that didn't have anything to do with her busted ribs. She had joined Moonspear because Charon and Floki had helped her and look how that had turned out. The yearling swallowed thickly.
Just because she couldn't necessarily offer her loyalty didn't mean Wildfire wasn't extremely grateful. "Warbone?" she said quietly, trying to grab his attention as he peered about the willow grove. "Thank you for helping me today. I owe you one." She tried to keep her tone light, yet there was a gravity to her goldenrod gaze.
Although he didn't comment, she managed to gain from him a very faint smile, that ghosted across his lips and was gone as quickly as it had come. He watched her settle, a shine of concern there in his face as she seemed to be in pain doing so, but it passed once she seemed to find a position of mild comfort. Warbone, seeking a distraction, turning his proud face back over the area around them— admiring without speaking— but after a while, Wildfire called his attention back. His head turned towards her, eyes following slower, and he regarded her appreciation with what seemed at first to be a lack of expression, but his eyes were shining in his grey face, and he looked as pleased as a (mostly) stoic gargoyle could.
He settled down near her, lying sphinx-like in a position where she could see all of him without having to crane her her head in any way. "My real name is Arkham," he said after a pregnant pause. "Arkham Solothurn."
He settled nearby and Wildfire wondered how long he intended to linger. Would he watch over her? The thought made her skin prickle with warmth that was simultaneously pleasant and unpleasant. Before she could dwell on any of it, though, he opened his mouth and abruptly gave her his real name. She hadn't known Warbone was an alias, so this information was met with her mouth falling open slightly and then clapping shut. She couldn't be sure but she thought this offering was symbolic.
"Nice to meet you, Arkham," she quipped after a moment, shooting him a quick (and slightly pained) smile. "Why the nickname?" she wondered offhandedly, shifting her weight ever so slightly and remarking aloud, "It's nice here, peaceful. Not sure if it's close enough to the ocean for your tastes but if you haven't already picked out a place..." She trailed off, the implication clear enough without having to be spoken.
"It is not a nickname," he said, amusement riddling his rasping baritone. "Warbone is a title. I earned it, a great honor among the wolves of my birthplace, and when I left, introducing myself as such had merely become habit by that point." His true name wasn't necessarily a secret, he just hardly ever found a reason or a want to speak it.
He followed her gaze, heaving a great and contented sigh from somewhere deep inside his chest. "Yes, I was admiring its tranquility," he murmured in admittance, looking in the other direction and finding much of the same: sweeping, swaying trees, and a diluted tang on the air, salt of the ocean. "I believe the proximity is fair— an accent of the sea carries with the breezes, but it is not overpowering or distracting... I feel a fondness for it, now that I have mentioned it aloud," he finished pensively, thankful for her assertion of his novice thoughts, even if in the end she would not share its delectation with him. "Have you been here before, in your ventures?"
It was a title, not a nickname. Wildfire ran her tongue across her lower lip, nodding as she took in his explanation. It was no wonder he hadn't shed it when he'd left home. It was a hard-won privilege and a fierce moniker. She didn't doubt for a second that it fit him, even though the yearling could not speak to the fearsome side of him. The word Wildfire would have used to describe him was capable. He would make a great Alpha and likely a wonderful father one day, a true patriarch.
She shook her head at his question. "Nope, can't say that I have. I hadn't spent much time up this way until recently. Both Moonspear and my parents' pack were—are—in the Great Bear Wilderness," Wildfire explained. She could safely say she would only be getting more familiar with the area, considering she had next to no reason to venture back south (unless she wanted to visit the Redhawks) and several to linger here in the north. All three of the packs on her list of possibilities were nearby, for instance, now including Warbone's.
"Well, Mr. Solothurn, I think your remedy is working," the youthful scout announced in the next moment, stretching out painstakingly slowly and then letting her chin begin drifting to settle on top of her forelegs. "I think I'm going to get some shuteye, if you don't mind. Don't feel obligated to stick around." She flashed him a quick smile, her eyelids already beginning to flutter as some of the sharp pains in her side ebbed away.
His eyes narrowed contentedly as she spoke, his large head scanning slowly back and forth like the sweeps of an oscillating fan, watchful and studious. Warbone looked back to Wildfire as she mentioned his surname, and he turned hooded eyes to her, tail thumping quietly as she admitted to a tiredness caused by the willow remedy. He responded faintly— a wordlessly assenting snort more than anything— and waited until she was sound asleep before getting up.
And while he was gone to venture deep in the Hush by the time Wildfire woke, a dead weasel had been left in his place.