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for @Artaax perhaps?

She was still a little under pep but heck if she wasn't trying to get back to tip top Maia-ness.  And part of that trying was doing a little wandering.

Another nice part about wandering though?  With no one around, she didn't have to try quite as hard as usual.  So it was with a fairly tired set to her shoulders that the young woman wound her way around the crag's base.

She glanced up as she went though, eyeing the face of it.  Did anything lurk up there? It seemed like the optimal spot for some kinda troll or maybe harpy to roost.  Something that would swoop down and try to eat her up in one gulp.

She shook her head and smiled.  Even making up stories in her own head helped lighten the mood some.  Man she loved wandering.
He wasn't dead yet. It seemed impossible that he wouldn't be dead yet, but there you have it. Artaax was a disheveled rake of a wolf - a ghost, but for the fact that he was still, somehow, alive. He didn't act like it, of course. He didn't feel like either. But, here he was - breathing, heart beating, living, by some definition of the term.

Artaax knew when someone entered his lonely crag. He always knew. The area was not large enough that he couldn't monitor every inch of it on his own, which he did obsessively in order to prevent his mind from going where he did not want it to go. He spotted her below while he prowled across an upper cliff. She was wandering through his domain in an almost aimless manner. His lips peeled back in a silent snarl at the trespass and he crept along to follow her.

Having grown up on the Cliffs, Artaax had quickly become quite adept at moving along the ones that lined the the crag on either side. So, he quickly was able to get ahead of her and dart down to her level. When he stepped out to intercept her, there was a few yards of distance between them. His hackles were raised and ears slicked back in an aggressive, warning stance. His posture, however, was not that of a proud, dominant wolf, but crouched and puffed up like an angry cat as he prepared to drive her away so he could go on living-or-something-like-it in peace-or-something-like-it.
She was looking up too much to see him coming, so when he appeared she nearly kept going to run into him.  Thankfully, only nearly.

She stopped stock still instead, her hackles raising to mirror his.  What the heck was this guy's problem?  She didn't immediately recognize him but it also didn't take her long - it was the boy with the eyes, from the cave.  Double what the heck.

Um, okay, what's your deal?  She might have played it off and tried to lighten the mood, but she didn't really have that kind of energy right now.  This was supposed to be a break from everything and he was kinda bringing her down again, something she really didn't appreciate.
She didn't leave immediately, which strengthened Artaax's ire. The silent snarl on his face deepened. The days when he would control his expressions and his body language were gone. He didn't care anymore if his enemies knew his every thought. He had only one emotion left. Rage.

Her words were curiously casual. He noted the familiarity in them, but he had none for her. Were he more of himself and less of an empty shell of anger, he might've recognized her as the girl from the cave that had intrigued him. As it was, he just saw a trespasser that needed to get the fuck out of his home. Not that he had ever actually marked borders or done anything whatsoever to show that he considered this area to be his, other than being a giant dick to strangers.

"Get out of my territory," he snarled, his voice gravelly and strained from not using it for so long.
She didn't know what had happened to the cute guy in the cave but this guy was nothing like him, and Maia found herself stepping backwards and ducking some, even while she wrinkled her nose.

This is yours?  She asked, the tone of her voice somewhat rudely dubious.  It was a pretty ugly place - it didn't look like there was much by way of prey or vegetation, and if you'd asked her to defend a place like this she'd have probably laughed.

I mean, it's.... yeah it's awful.  I'm going to go ahead and go that way then.  She was in no way going to fight him.  Maia was rarely in the mood to fight on a usual day, and today she was even less than usual.  He could have fun with his rocks and she'd go... find somewhere else to wander she guessed.  Cool.  Another wolf who didn't want to give her the time of day.

Drooping a little more than usual, she turned to go, presuming he didn't try and stop her.
Fortunately, Artaax took no actual pride in his claim, so her insulting tone slid right off of his shoulders. He didn't claim it for pride. He claimed it to give himself something to obsess over so he wouldn't obsess over his own misery. And on a more basic level, Artaax was, to his core, a soldier. He was a protector. A guardian. He had an innate need to protect and watch over something. And now, he had no loved ones left to guard. So, he found something else. It might be some desolate, lonely scrap of rock buried between the mountains, but it was his. It was who he was.

The girl turned to leave. Instead of just letting her go, Artaax began to follow. His violent display settled into one of watchful aggression as he stalked after her. He was going to make sure she left and dog her every step out the door. Partly because he was, as I said, a wee bit obsessive. And also because I don't want this thread to end so quickly lol.
It made sense, Y'know, his not wanting her around.  She didn't blame him because she wasn't exactly company even she wanted to have lately.  It was just hard because it felt like that enthusiasm she usually found super duper easy was all gone, and she didn't know how to find it again.  It didn't matter that she'd thought that maybe... whatever.

She wasn't going to cry, ok? Ok Maia?

Her internal monologue was spiraling, so it meant she had to say something.    You're a jerk. was the easiest, but there wasn't a lot of anger behind it.  Mainly she just kinda wanted to know why but also didn't want him to know she wanted to know.  So insulting him about it seemed next best option.
Artaax failed to notice that she was growing emotional over his treatment or some other inner drama she was suffering from. He didn't really care if he was hurting her feelings. He was convinced that whatever pain anyone else in the world might feel was insignificant compared to his. Sure, others lost their mothers. But no one else lost their mother like he had. And no one else had ever loved their mother the way that he had either.

I guess he too was beginning to slip into his own misery. He was brought back by the girl's insult. Artaax peered at her through narrowed eyes. He didn't consider himself to be a jerk by any means. Was it rude to protect your territory, even when you've made no discernable claim to it other than being a jerk to those who trespassed upon it? I know, I know. I see it. But he didn't.

In any event, it didn't matter to Artaax. "That's fine," he answered. He could be a jerk if she wanted to call him a jerk.
What was wrong with him?  Better yet, though, was what was wrong with her.  For some reason, his answer set her off, and before she knew it she'd wheeled on him.

It's not fine!  She yelled, puffing up.  You don't even know how awful it's been lately, and then I come out here to try and feel better, but I have to run into YOU.  And the worst part is I thought maybe if I saw you again it would be awesome but I GUESS I WAS WRONG!!!

She whirled again and started walking, this time with more purpose.  If he was going to be a jerk then fine, let him be a big dumb jerk and keep his stupid rocks.  She couldn't believe she'd ever thought his eyes were pretty.
She turned on him. It was unexpected, but Artaax didn't flinch. He simply froze and satred at her, his frown softening into curiousity and confusion as she raged at him. Only then did he realize that the odd sense of familiarity he'd had towards her had actually come from somewhere. She knew him. And he knew her. But that realization was quick to pale against the rising black that her words moved in him.

"How awful it's been lately?" he questioned, his voice dark and stormy as his temper rose, "How awful it's been? Did your mother abandon you, stealing your sisters away with her? Did your mother, your commander, fling herself from a cliff to drown in the waves below of her own free will? Do not speak to me about awful. You don't know what awful is. Do not speak to me of awful unless you've felt what it is to love with all your heart and have those you loved choose to take themselves from you."

He didn't know why he was so honest with her then. Maybe because he wanted to shut her the hell up and drive her out with the power of his devastation. Maybe it was just his anger trying to make someone else feel as terrible as he did. Or maybe he just needed to let the ugliness of his life out. He needed someone else to know, so maybe he wouldn't feel entirely alone in this burden.

He could also just be an asshole. I never really can tell.
She felt all the blood drain from her as he talked, and suddenly, she wasn't mad - she was furious.  An icy kind of furious that she didn't know if she'd ever felt.  How could he stand there and talk like that?

MY MOM'S DEAD YOU ASSHOLE! She'd never cursed before, and it felt wrong even as it left her lips, but she couldn't think of any other word to use.  Osprey.  She pictured her mom's face as she told stories, as she explained the stars to them, and suddenly she was crying.  She didn't even know when the yelling became crying - maybe it had been from the get go.  And my dad, and EVERYONE.  Even probably Cass and Cori but we don't know because they're gone and home is GONE and EVERYTHING IS GONE.  SO SHUT UP OKAY?!

At this point she was bawling, and she spun around to take off - but of course.  Of course she would trip.  

She landed facefirst in the dirt and for a minute didn't even try to get up.  This day was the worst, he was the worst, and she was done with everything.
The girl screamed back at him, flinging her own pain and anger and heartache into his face with just as much violence as he'd done to her with his. Artaax stood and glared at her, enraged, incredulous. Had she not heard a word he'd just said? Who the fuck cared if her whole family was dead if it had been the simple whim of fate? His family had chosen to leave him. He would rather they had burned to ash, every last one of them, if they had at least tried to remain alive. If they'd only tried to stay with him.

Artaax felt numb with cold fury as she spun away and made to run from him. He had only a split second to praise the gods that she'd done so before she tripped and was falling. He blinked in surprise when she hit the ground and stood frozen for a moment as she lay crumpled upon the ground, sobbing into his earth. Scathing words rose in his mind - words with which he could hurt her more deeply, and make her realize that her pain was a selfish, pointless sort of pain. They had both lost their families and they both clearly reeled from that loss. But Artaax would've rather his loved ones had burned to ash to be swept away in the wind if they had only fought to stay with him instead of being the ones to light themselves.

Had life always been so cruel? To make one's pain and suffering so terrible that they truly envied the pain and suffering of another?

When another moment passed and Artaax spoke, it was with a soft voice that was empty of anger and filled with exhaustion and defeat. "You need food," he murmured, looking away from her to the rocky alcoves to the East where he knew he could find a quick and easy meal. He had exhausted all of his rage and his pain, and when that happened, there was only the ghost left. And even the ghost of what he had once been was innately predisposed for the same core functions that had once driven Thuringwethil's son - to shelter and protect.
It was funny, a little.  Maia had heard what he said - and she'd have given anything to trade places, because like him, she couldn't believe he thought his own pain was worse.  If they'd chosen to leave, like his had, then she'd be free to hate them.  But unlike him, hers had loved her.  She'd chosen to leave them instead, and now they were gone forever.  She'd never see them again and there was no one to hate for it, not even herself.  Hate would have been easier than this.

This was the second time she'd gone to pieces in front of someone who was a random acquaintance, and the second time she got to feel the embarrassment that came with it.  God Maia you're such a baby, he wasn't crying, now he's going to hate you even more.  Not that you care, because he's a total jerk, but also it's totally understandable because wow you are being lame right now.

The internal lashing was endless, and it forced her to quiet her crying and slowly get to her feet as he gave his own quiet conclusion.  What?  Wait.....  yeah actually she had zero left to lose here.  Yeah.  She said quietly, snuffling but not looking at him.  Pathetic.  She even had the jerk feeling sorry for her now.
The girl agreed to his ascertion that she needed to it, which was not a surprise to him. It should've been, considering how much of an asshole he'd spent their entire time together being to her, but he would've been more surprised if she'd responded more appropriately and rejected him angrily. That's just the way he is, though. He wasn't as good at finding his own faults as he was at finding those of others.

In any event, he gestured with his head to beckon her and said, "Come on." He turned his paws without waiting for her and began to head towards the rocky slopes to the East where he had buried some leftovers from a kill he'd made a few days previous.
Food was a bit of a weakness for her.  That, combined with the fact that her self esteem had been at an all time low for weeks, made her an easy accepter of his 'pity'. Why not? Worst he could do was like, attack her and eat her face, and she probably deserved that for being so lame so okay.  

She followed fairly apathetically, but eventually she had to talk.  She was still Maia.  So you live here now.  Alone.  Both were obvious, so neither was a question.  She just kinda wondered why.... I mean she knew why, he was sad and his mom left or jumped off a cliff (!?) or something.  But living here alone?  It seemed terrible.
Artaax would’ve been happy to spend the rest of his time in her company in complete silence. He’d figured they’d said all to each other already that they’d needed to, so why fill the peaceful silence with small talk? Or large talk? Talk of any kind. Unnecessary.

And yet, talk she did. Artaax, fortunately, was too exhausted to lose his temper again, so he listened placidly as he looked around for the half shattered tree that marked where he’d buried the remnants of a goat he’d taken a couple of days ago. He didn’t reply to her until he’d spotted it and began to lead her that way.

”I guess,” he answered simply. He hadn’t really thought of himself as living here before. Sure he slept here every night and guarded the area against “trespassers”, but did he live here? Well yeah. But Artaax didn’t think so, somehow.

It took him only half a minute to free to carcass from its tomb. He pulled the ragged hindquarter out of the ground and brought it over to drop it at her paws. He moved away then and settled onto the ground a couple of yards from her, his mismatched eyes staring off dully into space.
I guess.  Now that she was calming down, it was easier to get annoyed again.  What kind of an answer was that?  The giving of the food was points back in his favor but she was still leaning heavily on the side of 'what was I thinking hoping to run into you' vibes.

Thats super sad.  Isn't it?  Don't you have, like, other family you could live with?  Her parents were gone and she got that, but living with Wraen was what had made this entire thing bearable.  Stuff was awful right now but she knew eventually she was going to get through it because her big sister was awesome and definitely there for her.  So were Terance and Sarah, kinda.

At this point he had dropped the food at her feet, and she was going to grace him with a little silence as she dug in unceremoniously.  She wasn't shy about free food when it was offered like this, and just because she was sad didn't mean she couldn't eat. A lot of times she was the opposite.
Artaax frowned as he stared off into space, away from her as she informed him how sad it was that he lived alone now. Sad. There were worse things than sad, but he neglected to advise her of this. He was distracted by the bubble of anger that fought through his exhaustion to be heard in answer to her next question.

"they let her die," Artaax growled, thinking of the "family" he had left. His brother had known what she planned to do and had failed to stop her. Worse, he had kept it to himself so no one else could stop her either. Then there were the rest. Her wocha and cheka who had failed to protect her from herself. Protecting her was all they existed on this earth for, and they had failed. The useless fuckers had failed.

Artaax's frown deepened as his mind continued through the ranks, finding fault in each face he saw (though unable to think of their names). Except for... He scowled and looked down at his paws, inexplicably annoyed.
I thought you said... never mind.  She'd started to question before she could think better of it, and the words 'she killed herself' died before they could go out.  Maybe she'd heard wrong, or he was talking about someone else, or he was just kinda crazy.  Actually? Probably the third, and she didn't need to make him mad right now.

I guess if you want to live here alone that's fine.  Just seems like a good way to never be happy.  She shrugged, standing as she finished eating what he'd given.  This month has sucked pretty bad, but at least I know Wraen has my back.  If you wanted, I'm sure you could come stay with us.

She had no clue what she was offering, or who this was.  No idea that this was the son of her leader, and no knowledge of what had happened between him and Kiwi.  All she saw was a guy who was a little nuts but probably shouldn't be alone, and of course she was gonna offer him a home.
Artaax should've known better. Thuringwethil was his mother and his commander. He should've known that her words were law, even when they were madness. Heda had been an unstoppable force in life. It was foolish to think that she would've been stoppable upon the brink of her death. Still, he resented those who had failed her. He resented the ancestors who had told her to jump. He resented all of them.

Except.

"Who is Wraen?" he asked, momentarily distracted by the unexpected invitation. He didn't know where "with us" was and he didn't particularly care. He was kru. He would live with the dragedakru or he would live alone. There was no where else for him.
My sister, she answered.  And the best ever, she added silently, watching him.  He didn't seem to be very interested in her offer, which didn't make sense.  If he didn't like his family he should live somewhere else, and if that somewhere else could be a cool pack with wolves like her why not?

It was probably the yelling earlier.  But he was a jerk anyway so maybe that was good.  Ugh.
Her sister. Artaax stared at her for another (awkwardly) long moment before looking away again. Her comment sent his mind the rest of the way down the path it had already started to head and there he found himself trapped, unable to look away from something he'd spent the last few weeks trying to avoid eye contact with.

For all of his life, Artaax and Blixen had been the only worthwhile children Thuringwethil had (I typed while laughing). He had once loved his brother, Bobby, more, but then he had bailed on them and gone to one of the other packs. The fact that heda had ordered him to do so was inconsequential - he had abandoned them, and Artaax had lost respect for him. He'd also, historically, been fairly useless as a member of the kru anyway. But Blixen. She'd always been there. Volatile, idiotic, but undeniably sturdy. In many ways, Artaax had come to rely on her the same way he had nomi. She needed him more than their mother ever had, of course. But still... She was a fixture in his life that was just supposed to be there, and that he could count on to always be there.

And now, heda was gone. Gone because the fools surrounding her had let her die. Those that were supposed to protect her, they had let her walk off the edge of the cliff and steal herself away from them all. They were supposed to protect heda, but they had been too stupid to realize that meant protecting her from herself as well.

And now they were protecting Blixen.

Anger bubbled in him again, but it was the soft, silent anger that he'd danced with his entire life. It was the anger that he could control, and that he could use to motivate himself. His hackles prickled slightly as he straightened his hunched, defeated form and lifted his chin with a tiny glimmer of the pride he'd once had. His wounds over losing Thur still burned. They ached and protested as he found his resolution and cinched it into place, but it was a pain he could handle because he knew now. He'd lost his nomi, his commander, . But maybe he hadn't lost everything.

"I'll go home," Artaax said, his voice a soft rumble. He turned and set his mismatched eyes on Maia, looking slightly less feral (slightly), "Thank you." He didn't explain what he thanked her for. I'm not even totally sure myself how that got into his brain, but it was rather appropriate.
For some reason, her answer seemed to change something for him.  Maia couldn't imagine why her specifying that Wraen was her sister would do that, but hey, this entire thing had been kinda weird anyway.  Umm, okay.  She wasn't at all disappointed that he shot down her offer.  Nope.  At least she got a thank you.

Good luck? She called after him as he (presumably) left, then shook her head.  Pretty but weird.  And rude.  And probably better walking away.
Artaax didn't pay much attention as she responded to him. She said words, but they went over his head as his mind continued to spin. He did look over at her once before he stood, giving her a nod that was meant to say stay here as long as you like - I have food stored in different caches that's yours for the taking. I will not be coming back for it. Take it as a token of my gratitude for helping me to realize what a fool I've been, and for helping set me back on the path I know now I must follow.

Yeah, he's pretty, but weird.

Artaax stood and left. It was time to go home.