The gold and pearl lad had never anticipated he would be so quick to have sought acceptance into a pack. It had been the wild looming wood of Neverwinter that had drawn him so. A startling resemblance to the thickly cut trees of his home. There was not a day that he didn't miss the familiar tangle of his home pack and the lives he had parted with. Striking out on his own had not been forced upon him by any means. He had left comfort on his own accord... and though he had not wanted to admit it, he thought perhaps that was why he sought a new life in a land ravished by famine. He always had a penchant for loving the underdog. In this, it was possible he housed some jealousy for the life of such a character.
The bronze-coated beast trailed carefully along the outside of the pack. The fields that stretched beyond were a strange sight. He knew so little of the terrain that surrounded the forest, he wasn't at all certain he was in the right mind for wandering. Yet the wanderlust pulled in his chest and he thought of the yearning he'd felt to travel. Sawyer did not know how he could quell the desire for flight and yet remain faithful to the man he needed to be. Ears drawn forward, he watched with little interest as a bird darted from the trees of Neverwinter and soared across the field.
After traveling with Harlyn and her brood Stark wanted to see the world outside the Willows and see how much the green had come back to the Earth. It was obvious the type of progress was going to be slow, after such devastation the world couldn't return to normalcy overnight. It wouldn't have been so special if it had. The male had cut through the rocky world, coming to a brilliant field before him. He stood out clearly against the field, even with the growth and it's various colors, his inky coat marking him clearly.
It was already warm, summer in a full blaze. He licked his lips, his eyes darting about mostly looking for prey. It was at a great risk, he'd barely recovered from the last two treks he had made at Octavia's request, though there were no regrets in him. If she asked, he would do so again, and again, and again. It was almost alarming to him how quickly he was becoming fond of her - of Tambourine, too - how very possessive he was of their presence and their attention. Maybe that was part of why he was there, further away. Giving him a chance to try and think of something other than the grey pair and what they might have been up to without him.
The path of the bird crossed over an inky figure in the distance. Sawyer's champagne gaze locked on the unknown form and he shuffled his paws forward a few steps before halting. He wasn't certain that it was smart to go running after a stranger in the fields beyond his new home. In fact, he had not planned to stray too far from the forest at all. Turning his head back to peer at the forested pack land, he huffed a short sigh and turned back to face the soot-colored wolf of the field.
His steady trot allowed Sawyer to close the distance between them in only a few minutes. He could already scent the other male carried the name of another pack on his dark pelt. "Hey there, partner, what brings you to this neck of the wood?" he inquired in a smooth and drawing voice. A single brow was quirked over a warm sun-touched eye.
Stark drew in a breath as he spotted something along the ground. It was dark, fitting among the grasses naturally. It was the way of tiny things, they survived where the larger ones could not. Stark licked his lips, a sound up ahead drawing him from the focus of the male to the approaching figure. His blue eyes narrowed, looking him over, curious and trying to read him as much as he could. The greeting was friendly enough and he gave a nod to him. "Scouting for dinner," He said with a little shrug. "My pack has grass again," God, he sounded like a grossly proud parent. "Is yours fairing well?" He asked curiously.
Many wolves had not managed to make it, but in the Keep they were doing alright. Not great. But other than Warbone, they hadn't lost anyone. Even their oldest, frailest member. The story was not so happy for the rest of the world, but Stark felt it was lucky, perhaps good fortune, to consider that the tide was starting to turn and that life was reappearing in the lands.
The dark wolf seemed friendly enough in the response that was given to Sawyer. He nodded his head sternly and found himself wondering why he had truly marched out there to give a stranger a hard time. Perhaps it was the idea that he had really entered himself into the ranks of another pack. The fear of wanting to leave was looming over him already. Commitment had never been a strong suit for Sawyer. He liked to live his life with one foot out the door. It allowed him to get comfortable but not complacent with his surroundings. If he could always leave, the fear was not quite as present as swearing an oath to remain.
When the wolf inquired to Sawyer how the forest was faring in the famine, the gold-cloaked wolf furrowed his brows a bit and frowned. “We’re doin’ the best we can with what we got,” he remarked. “But I haven’t been ‘round here long enough to know too much ‘bout what happened.” He certainly had not been in the Teekon Wilds long enough to have truly endured the lack of food and the destruction of the terrain. Furrowing his brows down a bit and frowning thoughtfully, he canted his head a bit to the other male. “Where are y’all located then?” he requested.
Many were not doing so well. For the male's pack he hoped things were fine, but, he understood that there were some issues to be expected. He gave a nod as the male spoke, relaxing just a touch as he focused on what he was asking. He couldn't betray the Keep's location - even if he didn't know how much of Warbone's rules Octavia wanted to maintain. "Little place across the ridge," He explained. "We've just started to see some life again, and some of the grasses have grown in between here and there." Stark explained.
"I thought I saw something but couldn't tell what it was, exactly." He admitted, nose twitching a couple times. "I'm Stark, by the way." He offered his name, figuring it was the polite thing to do at that point. Like the male before him, he had been reluctant to put down roots. What he wasn't expecting it was that things would have taken root in him.
Sawyer nodded his head in reference to the location of the dark wolf’s pack. He then went on to say that there were blades of green grass popping up in the field that stretched in between. Life was returning, as was expected. It would not be long before the larger herds would be making their way back into the Teekon Wilds, and the wolves who called it home would not find themselves scavenging for anything to soothe the ache in their gut. It was a troubling thought for the golden male, when the wondered what they had done in order to stay alive. He was certain that there were wolves in those lands who had been driven out of their minds in desperation. And for a moment, Sawyer wondered whether or not he would have survived if he had been around for the brunt of the locusts’ force.
Sweeping the thought away for the time being, he focused his gaze on the wolf in front of him, who had just been introduced as Stark. “Pleasure’s all mine. I’m Sawyer,” he introduced with a short nod of his head and a half-smile that curled the left side of his face. “You haven’t seen any herds returnin’ by any chance, have you?” he then inquired carefully, certain that if there was large game coming back in, a stranger would not share the information with him so easily.
Stark felt fortunate that he had arrived after the bugs had died off. He had seen the evidence of their destruction, the reckless way that they had decimated everything in their paths. He was only relieved to find that it had not ended the lives of the wolves he cared for. The other male gave his name and Stark nodded his head - Sawyer. He'd remember that. Try to, at least. "Unfortunately, not yet." He said quietly.
"I'm not sure it'll be enough yet," He said, nodding towards the ground. "Not for most of the bigger herds - not for awhile. It's gotta grow more." Even if there had been anything worthwhile he wouldn't be this far from home and telling anyone about it. He and his pack would be there, trying to fill their bellies.
It could not be said that Sawyer was surprised at the idea that herds had not been seen back in the wilds. Though it was unfortunate, he had hope that there would be changes in their lands soon enough. With the return of the greenery, the animals would begin to flock back to their homes. Stark continued on to say that he did not imagine the herds would return for quite some time. Sawyer cast his gaze on the growth around them and nodded slowly, frowning in a manner that suggested he could have been wrong in his guess. The golden lad had always been a hopeful soul, though mindlessly hoping was not always a guarantee to get things done. “Showers ought to do the green some good,” he spoke with a firm bob of his head.
The fast their foliage returned, the sooner it would draw the prey back into their lands. Sawyer had not been sure how he would have survived if he had not been taken in by the Neverwinter wolves. Their kindness was respectable, and the leader of the woods was someone worth following. “How long have you called these lands home?” he inquired to the dark-furred man.
Stark looked up at the skies when Sawyer spoke, giving a nod as he returned his gaze to the tawny male. "If only we could get some rain dancers, then." He said with a little smile. He was hopeful, if he could even take a few of the wolves of the Keep out to get them something substantial it would make the entire pack's mood lift. As it was there was still so much strife, so much fussing, and Stark was loath to deal with it.
Maybe it was childish, but, it was part of why he was out scouting. It meant that he could spend a bit of time on his own and with any luck he might go home with something to eat and some news. Knowing that they were on the same level as everywhere else made him feel a bit better. "A couple months," He offered easily. "Just after the locusts had died off." Maybe he could be a good luck charm, he'd much rather be thought of that way - the one to herald the end of the famine.
The gold-cloaked lad chuckled at the mention of rain dancers. Turning his gaze to the sky, the boy inhaled heavily and held the breath for a moment before sighing. “Gee, I don’t know much about dancin’ for rain, but I’m willin’ to try just about anythin’ to get some clouds,” he spoke with the hint of a laugh still on the ends of his words. The good humor twinkled in his gaze as he pulled his vision back to Stark. The weather was mighty fickle, but it had always been a subject that had peaked the interest of the southern man. He had known a wolf from his home pack who could predict the weather with an astounding track record. Each time that Sawyer had asked the man how he’d done it, all he had gotten in return was a roguish grin and a wink. After some time, he’d given up.
When the other wolf mentioned his timing, Sawyer lifted his brows in response. “Well I’ll be…” he trailed with a faint grin. Flicking his ears forward and swishing his tail a bit, the golden man thought it nice that he had not been the only one to seek a home in the wilds during its trying time. “I came not too long ago myself. Good timin’ for the both of us, I suppose,” he observed in a careful drawl. The words were nothing but genuine curiosity to the fact that some would find it foolish to enter a plague-swallowed land and hope to find a home. “You like the folks you’re livin’ with?” he then inquired with a thoughtful glance.
"We'll get it." Stark said confidently. "Soon the rains will come - it's got too." He could almost feel something, too, the pressure shifting. Even without the promise of clouds he knew something was coming their way. He just had to hang on till then. His long range trips might slow down as the heat increased, his dark pelt making it so much harder for him to navigate safely. That didn't mean that he wouldn't for the most part try to do his part. He had a job to do, after all.
"No kidding. I'd hate to imagine how rough off I'd be if I had been here from the start." Because he knew he'd been feeding himself scraps, barely making by, for the sake of Octavia and Tambourine. They took the choice portions, the male the left overs. "Absolutely." Was Stark's quick, but gentle, response, his smile never wavering. He was happy in the Keep. Even with the whispers of dissent, he was happy - he had a purpose and he had his little family, what more could a man truly want? "And you?" It was only a curious, natural response. Stark wondered frequently of the other packs, though he knew he wouldn't consider any of them.
He was where he was meant to be, it seemed.
He had never really been one to believe in destiny or fate. Some of his family members had preached to him about the great unknown and all of them could recall certain tales or stories that would suggest that something larger than them was at work. Sawyer was a man of reason, though, and he’d never found himself too wrapped up in the thought to let it sink in. When the dark man Stark had returned the question, Sawyer quirked and brow and gave him a sidelong glance.
“I don’t know a whole lot about ‘em,” he answered honestly albeit a bit sheepishly. Darting his gaze toward the ground, the golden wolf shrugged his shoulders and heaved a sigh. “I get the jitters talkin’ to new folks sometimes,” he then added, as if it would explain why he didn’t know very much about the wolves he had found a home with. Then again, Sawyer always had lived his life in something of a lackadaisical fashion. His mama had always said it was part of his charm.
Stark understood in a lot of ways the way it felt being 'on' all the time. There were few that got to see the real him, the one who was insecure about things, the one who hid beneath his bravado and tried to hold everything together for the sake of others. Stark didn't let himself break often, but, when he did there was a clear reason for it. "It's rough, sometimes. We tend to sleep all together, makes it hard not to get to know folks." Stark said with an easy smile. "It'd be a lot different if it came down to going out and being social on my own." Because he spent a good chunk of his time out like this - exploring the world and the wilds, and rarely restricted himself just to the pack's lands.
"If you're anything like now, though, I think you'd do just fine." Stark offered, hoping the male didn't take offense to his statement. It was really nothing more than wanting to let him know that he had nothing to truly worry about. It was a little bit longer as they talked, exchanging a few more pleasantries - a little bit more information before Stark gave a nod, turning to head back to the Keep.