@Mordecai <3
The sun had risen slowly this morn, though Lecter wondered at his hazed perception of time. Dawn had unveiled herself in a dazzling rictus of rose and peach, and the shaman had watched silently as from her breast rose the sun into its paling cradle.
But though the beauty of the sunrise enabled his body to unravel from tension, his mind was only upon Jinx, the thought of her. What memories were left to his sylph; what sensations? what could he give to her that would allow her to remember him? Selfishly, the shaman thought only of their pairing, not of Silvertip as a whole, but some sort of irrationality lurked; if he could turn Jinx's eyes back to him, perhaps she would return to rule her Mountain again.
Silently he perched upon the ledge outside his den, scattered bones, crushed leaves, and cloying blooms forming a disoriented semicircle around him, evidence of his nightly fevered searches for whatever cure he could muster. But there was none.
<3! I'm setting this after
this thread, just as a reference.
From the overgrown forests surrounding their once home on the mountain, Mordecai had returned to the Spine quietly. He couldn't have said that his head felt any clearer, but his intentions had remained the same. Once he had rested and felt he was awake once more, he had headed off in search of Ouroboros's shaman. While Mordecai was unfamiliar with where his leaders bedded down for the night, it wasn't hard to track them. He knew that Lecter would have more than likely searched out an old den, at least for the various storage of the supplies he used. Whether or not Jinx would join him there, Mordecai did not know, or even if they would reside there in a mix with said supplies. But he also knew that he too would have to find somewhere at least a little bit suitable to hole up, for when the nights grew too cold for him to tolerate being out beneath a canopy of astral bodies.
Pacing through the sloping woods of the Spine, it did not take him long to trail Lecter. As ever, the smell of the blood-stained Beta announced him well before Mordecai ever lied eyes on him, though he wasn't too hard to spot in that regard either. It was over a small crest and through a bend before he did lay eyes on Lecter, and Mordecai greeted him at a distance with a small woof before closing it. Eyeing the place where he had seen the wound in their last one-on-one meeting, the tawny Ostrega gestured with his muzzle before speaking.
“How's your leg?” It seemed like an easy enough question to start with, and it would at least give him a chance to gauge whether or not Lecter would tolerate his company. With everything going on, especially involving his mate, Mordecai would not have been surprised if he was told to remove himself.
The seawitch was in no mood for company, but Mordecai was given a blank stare, one which slowly cleared into a vague gesture of invitation for the Delta to settle himself. The Ostrega was one of the few wolves whose company Lecter tolerated these days — Kaname, Sitri, and Cara were the others. It will heal,
he answered coolly, not deigning to glance down toward the barely-scarred wound upon his foreleg.
Perceptive enough to know that Mordecai did not approach out of sheer concern for his Beta's thin limb, the shaman shifted himself until he could gaze more keenly into the hunter's eyes. I have been searching for a cure that I might administer to her,
he muttered, assuming the other would know of whom he spoke. I cannot slow the symptoms. This ... this is a malady with one ending. I have seen it twice before in my lifetime.
Icewater eyes met and held with growing coldness the face of his subordinate. Keep your distance. Do not draw near enough to her that the disease might be spread. If you are bitten, I cannot save you, Mordecai.
The burn of shame began in his breast, that he was forced to speak of her in such a manner, but the wolves of Ouroboros must be kept safe if they were to survive the demise of their leader.
Save himself, of course.
A tension that had built in his approach eased when Lecter invited him to settle. Mordecai hadn't been aware of it until that point, but was relieved that it passed as he joined Lecter fully. Once he had reclined to the earth beneath him, he did not need to explain why he was there, and perhaps on a certain level he was thankful for that too. Mordecai had no words to explain, let alone describe what felt like indescriable emotions in light of everything. Where he had been hoping for Lecter to alleviate some of that worries he had, the shaman only validated them, and the icy glow of his eyes did much to instill their grim grasp. It was enough to send a chill through him. It was all he needed and didn't want to know.
A heavy sigh left him, the chill replaced by a moment's overwhelming touch of sorrow. Where Mordecai had been reluctant to make any outstanding connections to any of his previous homes (barring his birthplace), he had settled well within Ouroboros. He had grown fond of its inhabitants, and especially of Jinx. Ouroboros worried for its life, and those worries were every bit apart of self-preservation. But self-preservation alone would not be enough to sustain them, he feared. “What can we do?” he asked, finally. His gaze had turned from his feet to meet the icy glow of his superior once more. “What can I do?” He asked honestly, because he wanted the direction, the purpose. Not just an inkling of what needed to be done, not a litany of habits to follow. His attachment to their home had grown strong in his stay, and the tawny Ostrega was willing to do what it took to keep them together and safe.
Wearily, Lecter closed his eyes, tilting his head to further feel the warmth of the sunrise upon him. Mordecai's questions went unanswered for the moment, for the shaman did not have a ready answer for him. The inquiries were one he posed against himself, almost daily.
Stay away from her, first and foremost. Tend our borders,
Lecter began, turning his attentions back to Mordecai. We must not give evidence that our queen is indisposed.
The Spine was a new settlement, and any evidence of weakness might draw those intending to challenge him for the leadership. Lecter was not insipid enough to pretend that he would win in any sort of skirmish against a much younger, hale wolf, and so he had determined to appoint a leader before he breathed his last.
Mordecai nodded firmly to the instructions he was given. It wouldn't be difficult for him to tend after their borders, as he had tried to make a habit out of it when they had first come to the Spine. But he could up the ante all the same, and would. At that point every little bit would help, and he knew it would take all of them working together to throw off any wandering eyes that could have been scrutinizing their locale.
"I will see to it," he told the shaman firmly. But at the heels of his affirmation other queries rose in its wake. "What would you have us do of we encounter someone wanting to join us?" For a moment his thoughts drifted back to the hybrid he had met in Silvertip's shadow, but Mordecai ultimately wondered if it would have been beneficial to drive away those seeking refuge. Loose lips and all. He needn't ask about those who lingered at their door unwelcome; he would drive them away.
Let them join us.
The Ostrega had posed a difficult question, and perhaps Lecter should not have forged ahead so quickly, but he was wearied by all of it. The Beta also could not conceive of quarantining Ouroboros, closing it off to potential strong bodies; it was only his beloved who had been affected by the dire malady.
We will prosper in spite of it,
he muttered, perhaps more to himself than to Mordecai, and shifted his position against the stone. There were many days that he wished to be dead, and today, despite its beauty, was no exception. Icewater eyes closed to half-mast and Lecter turned back toward the sunrise that had blossomed fully into morningtide, if only to veil the tears that stung the corners of his gaze suddenly. Blathering, emotional old fool! he berated himself, jaw tensing; the shaman had not wept so much in the entirety of his life as he had over the past several weeks.
As Lecter turned away from him, Mordecai lost a bit of his confidence. He hoped that they would propser in light of this. It seemed more likely than not, given what they had all been through. From betrayals and desertions, to relocating entirely altogether… they had certainly stuck together. And very much like a family, they had taken care of each other. But this was certainly a bit of a different beast, as there seemed to be little or nothing at all that they could do to make Jinx's suffering easier.
The tension that coiled up in the air did not make it any easier to handle for him either. He found that he was shutting himself off to it, perserving in the best way he decided he knew how. “I am sorry this has to happen to us,” he said softly then. “I'm sorry this has to happen to you. I can't fathom what you're feeling.” Mordecai had never experienced a hefty loss. Losing a leader he had come to care about was one thing, but he could not have imagined the pain in losing someone that he loved.
“Whatever you decide to do when the time comes, I'll support your decisions,” he went on to say after a small pause. He questioned the meanings and choices that could have followed in that wake, but it was his offering of loyalty all the same. For as much as he cared about Jinx, he had grown fond of Lecter as well, and did not favor the time when they would be separated.
Spare me! Lecter wished to snarl it at Mordecai, to drive him away with bent shoulders, but he merely clenched shut his jaw and gave a vague nod at the other's words. He needed no pity; the Ostrega would do better saving such words for Jinx and her plight, which was sure to be horrid and rattled.
Thank you,
the shaman muttered, turning back toward the hunter.
Had he been in any sort of mood, the witch might have charmed Mordecai with briberies for continued loyalties — the man deserved his reward — but words were evading Lecter, skimming around the periphery of his tongue only to be blacked out by the sorrow of his mind. This land, perhaps it needed to be cleansed of malicious loa before we settled,
Lecter mused, half to himself.
Once again, the mention of loa piqued his interest. That interest came at what seemed like such an inappropriate time, and left Mordecai with mixed emotions in its wake. He did not know what it would have taken to cleanse the Spine from these malicious entities, or whether or not it would have done them any good. Instead he pondered down another route altogether, recalling their last talk about the loa with what felt like muddied clarity. His expression screwed up a bit, but ultimately settled on the same thoughtful curiousness from before.
“Do you think it's because we left the mountain? Could the loa of the mountain be angry that we left them for here?” He grasped for explanations where there were probably none. It was his own way of working through it, to understand, and perhaps to keep the terror of an unpleasant plight at bay. He did not want to fear what would become of them if others grew ill, and certainly found he was trying his damndest to keep from thinking about it. Perhaps it was something that Jinx had done to bring this upon herself, though he did not wish to consider it.
wanna fade here? lecter isn't the nicest/most talkative lol <3
Perhaps,
Lecter grunted.
Loa are fickle things indeed. There is a chance that because we did not make a proper sacrifice before departing Silvertip, that they followed us here in anger.
Or perhaps what had befallen Jinx was a chance occurrence, an arbitrary travail given her by Sos Himself.
Go and find sustenance for yourself, Mordecai Ostrega,
the Beta instructed, stretching his forelegs in the dawnlight. He himself would perform a looping patrol of the borders before setting off in his habitual, daily search of Jinx, if only to see she still drew breath.
Guess I should reply and wrap this up... >_>
As much as he would have liked to listen to the philosophies therein of the loa and what could have caused their malady, he understood the dismissal in Lecter's tone. Wordlessly, the Ostrega rose from his seat and gave Lecter a solid nod. Stretching briefly, he lingered for a moment more before setting off into the forests around, doing just as he had been instructed. Sustenance was a certain thing that had yet to be filled for the time being, so Mordecai was well prepared to suss out a little prey for a meal.