He walked. Walked until he could walk no further. The time and day sprawled across his mind - night, nearly midnight - in fleeting grasps. He had to walk at night, for he could not stand the blinding lights that were day. Holland had no idea where he was, what this place was even called - but did he really care? The thought of hunting someone down to ask was exhausting. He was exhausted. He didn't have any patience to deal with someone right now.
Stopping in the willows, he would pause. His body seemed to creak as he slowly sat, showing age before his time. Of course, this was just the way he carried himself. It had nothing to do with a mental or physical state. Very rarely did he pause at night. He sought those precious moonlit hours to travel. This willowed area seemed to be perfect for some hunting and resting though. Then he'd be on his way, find a suitable place to sleep for the upcoming daylight. Winter was upon the man.
He was acutely aware that spring would bring unwanted attention and annoying wolves in the throws of passion. Biology was a bitch sometimes. He'd, like every year, avoid such antics. He had better things to do. As Holland sat there, pondering, he heard a distinctive snap behind him. He did not so much as flinch, refusing to crane his neck to look behind him. If they were passing through, he'd leave them be. If they decided to chat, there was only so much he could tolerate.
The willows were not far from the intended claim, closer than Kigipigak had roamed in days passed though, and he felt safe enough to do so without the scrutiny of Stjornuati or his brothers. He needed to stretch his legs and, as agreed, would not venture deep in to the valley nor too far from the Watch; in this particular instance Kigipigak was following a winding trail that bifurcated partway down the mountainside, leading towards the abandoned willow forest.
The wolf scents had all but vanished among their tendrils. Kigipigak thought of what the sad woman had said to him and Stjornuati, something about gay faeries
, which urged him to investigate; yet upon finding the way beyond the supposed claim limits, Kigipigak could find nothing to suggest a tribe had settled there. Perhaps once, long ago—there were very old and ruinous pits that could have been caches, now turned to frosted mud holes. At least one potential den from what Kigipigak could discern (not that he had ever used one, he recalled his mother's precious hideaway with some fondness).
The eventual conclusion Kigipigak reached was simple: this place was empty. At least until a decidedly fresh scent found its way through a gap in the trees and drew like a banner down a narrow hill; he paused upon finding this scent, then followed it, unafraid of what he might find. As Kigipigak drew alongside a series of older willows and in their shade sat a wolf he did not know. After assessing the stranger from afar Kigipigak chuffed a greeting and languidly began to close the distance.
The greeting caused him to move. Assessing it seemed friendly enough, Baelfire turned his neck awkwardly. The sting of old wounds on the left side still bothered him in the cold - it was a creaking and slow gesture. "Hail" but not well met. Not yet anyway. He had to draw that conclusion for himself. The weather was cold and cloudy, but the dark held everyone under equality.
The other man closed the distance, but Holland was eager to keep it. Though he did not move, his lip curled inwardly (his face remained neutral) at a stranger getting close. He didn't, couldn't lift a paw. He was nearly a pacifist in practice, but would defend himself if required. Eyeing the wolf with his singular good eye, the other was a soulless socket.
"Do you know the name of this realm?" the man would ask this one. He had traveled far and wide, forever searching for a place to settle. He needed to know the name of this place before deciding on anything.
As he came upon the stranger Kigipigak slowed, stopped, and stared. He was checking the stranger for anomalies: how healthy they were, reading their posture, the usual. It did not take long before Kigipigak noticed the slow affect the stranger adopted when returning the gesture; a scarred face and misted eye marked one half of their face. Aside from that they looked healthy. Kigipigak wondered if this could be a recruit for the Watch—but did not mention them yet, preferring to wait and learn more.
Do you know the name of this realm?
The man asked.
No,
Kigipigak remarked as he began to look around; he knew only that it was once home to some merry band of wolves, but he had not met any of them and did not think it important to note. Except he recalled what the sad woman had said to Stjornuati—It was once home to some gay faeries from what I've gathered, but it is empty now.
For Kigipigak, who did not know what gay meant or what a faerie was, it seemed like an odd description; perhaps this stranger would glean some understanding from the comment. A moment later he adds, I come from further up the mountain.
"I see" Simple enough, he supposed. The other man didn't know where he was, and neither did Holland. 'Gay faeries' aside - was it a court? he would wonder - and mountain distance aside... the other man had nothing useful for him. "you are looking to settle where these, ah, fae left?" he asks.
No, up the mountain,
as he had said before, he thought with a scowl. Whoever lived here has been gone since before the winter came. If you seek them there may be old trails to follow...
But he doubted somehow that they were here for those wolves; they held no scent to them aside from wild wind. Kigipigak did not feel the need to elaborate on where he came from, nor why. He somehow doubted this wolf would be worth leading to the Watch; he was becoming more cautious with whom he told.
For all Holland knew, the man could be seeking other grounds. His group - he suspected - was seeking new grounds. He didn't know, hence he asked. The dark coated man grunts, looking away. He didn't seek these 'gay faeries', and did not care where they had gone.
There was nothing more to be learned.
"I'll keep that in mind" he utters to the other wolf, letting his tired muscles lead the way. Holland begins to walk away, anticipating their time at an end now. He is eager to close the chapter on this book.
"thanks." he calls over his shoulder.
And in a few minutes, he is gone from sight.
very old thread needed to be wrapped up!