In the late hours of the witching hour, or perhaps early if you looked at it from a certain point of view, the ocean wept and thrashed, it’s moonlit eyes teary and wild. In its thrashing bloodied seas, a gift was rolling, curling, smashing inside.
With the moon’s silent, weary judgement, the seas threw its cargo ashore, then retreated from it, as though the gift came coated with arsenic. The crude, dripping figure lay winded and dazed, seawater drooling between his lips, eyes held wide open, stinging from salt.
Then, up!
Up it lurched!
Wrung forward, curving like a possessed thing, hacking and coughing and spitting until seawater joined bile on the sand.
Pelagius stared at the mess he had made, then over his shoulder. Aching, aching, he stood, slowly stumbling over to the deer skull half buried in the sand. He yanked it free with some effort, half drowned was he, before he cast his gaze across the beach.
This was not his island. This was not his home. Pelagius was very, very far away.
She hadn't been able to sleep, so like a wraith she had stolen from the pack lands. Dainty paws, small body, slip sliding through the night. Blending in with shadows and ghosts she moved and curled around the many different things.
Disturbance in the air. It was there she could feel it. A change of the tides. So with careful precise steps she followed the sound that had disturbed the usual sounds of the ocean and the shore.
Tiny paws, mincing steps she slowly inched forward until her gaze fell upon the bedraggled, mess of fur and teeth that hacked, and coughed. Spewed his sickness into the golden sands of the sea shore. She moved closer, eyes upon the sea lions that were further down.
Hello.
She murmured. Unsure what else to say. He was young and probably scared and she was a stranger. Though, she quickly assessed what she could and what she might need to cure him, should she need too.
He was dripping seawater and bile, he was holding his skull in the palm of his hands, but someone still found him.
He eyed her, trembling gums wrapped around tines of ivory, eyes never leaving her own. After a moment, he spit out the skull with a short patooy, hitting the sand with a wet schlorp.
Good marrow.
The boy croaked, throat burbling with caustic salt. He swallowed.
Water?
He had his fill of it while drowning, but he needed to wash it all down the right way, not into his lungs. He gave a wheezy, airy cough.
Ash Paw trembled as he spit a skull from his maw, and she froze and then back up to him. So young? But so dark. He reminded her of worshippers of dark things and it gave her an uneasy feeling, despite that Sos was darkness incarnate, but it was different when it was your own religion.
Good Marrow. I'm Ash Paw.
She shifted and moved a little closer. I'll get you some water, if you follow me. But you also are gonna need something for the bile in your stomach. I have some stores nearby.
She shifted and motioned for him to follow her, azure blue eyes upon his face. THey would not find fresh water here. They would only find salt, sand, brine and death if they didn't hurry.
Don't forget your..skull.
She murmured and then spoke. Do you need help? Water as the likes of that tends to seize in your limbs. Make you tired, weary.
He blinked, one eye at a time, before his eyes fell to the skull at his feet. He nodded, shortly, before ducking to wiggle beneath the skull, managing to hoist it over his shoulder, the antler tines digging into his shoulders, but the boy didn’t seem to mind.
He pushed up and stared at the woman until she began to move, then he would follow behind. He eyed her, nostrils flaring, picking apart her scent for any details.
He thought he smelled the Dreadfather, his father, but the boy pushed that away. He was a smart boy, he would find the man eventually.
There was a quiet watchfulness to the youth. His eyes of deepest blue or purple she couldn't quite tell. Scarring was present where the tines had struck him again and again, the fur rubbed raw and scarred.
Had she known his gather was
@Ingram she'd have taken him to the beast. She laid him towards onw of her stores and quiet creek that ran through the pack lands.
She motioned.
Get drink. You want to clean out your mouth and throat then drink. I need to find some plum root for your stomach. You will need to watch for dry drowning. If the water doesn't feel as if it has left you i will need to make you throw up again unfortunately.
The boy followed, head held even with his shoulders as to not disturb the skull thrown across his back.
The only time he made a movement, was his eerie skitter to the water, where he then proceeded to dunk his face in and drink as deeply as he could manage. He let out an involuntary, pleased hum, tail giving one single bob upwards, as though an aborted wave took place.
He pulled his face away from the water a minute or so later, licking the droplets off his whiskers and whispy furs beside his mouth. Already, his throat felt better.
Many thanks to you.
Without the gargle of salt, the voice of the boy didn’t get much better. Still mildly hissing, and growing lower as he grew older.
She didn't quite understand the skull. Perhaps it was to keep his posture? Maybe it was special to him. She wanted to ask, but wasn't sure if it would be received well so she kept silent.
She met hsi gaze with baby blues and nodded. Does it feel better? Not too tight?
She used tiny paws to dig at the dirt and pull from its depths both plum root, and plums themselves.
Lucky for you. Plums don't taste to bad. You want to eat only one or two to help you settle your stomach. If you aren't use to them the skin may taste bitter, but the fruit inside is sweet.
She nosed them towards him. Do your ribs hurt from coughing or swimming? I can make a poultice.
Pelagius stared for a time at the plums sat before him. Deep blues flicked up and down, from fruit to woman, before he bent to pluck up one of the fruits into his mouth. He spent a time chewing on it, rolling the flavors around on his tongue.
Never once did his eyes leave the woman’s own. His pupils constricted, then blew wide with every cloud that rolled over the moon. Eventually, he was finished, and the boy rolled his tongue over his lips.
My ribs are alright.
He intoned slowly, wiggling his toes in the dirt.
He was beginning to smell it more. Pack lands, he was upon them. It made him almost giddy, the feeling a fox has when in a henhouse undetected. He looked around, for a time, before speaking again.
Where are we?
Where did you take me to, woman with the soot dark paw?
Blue Eye into blue eye, she kept his attention. Refusing to cowl. HE would eat the plums and heal his stomach, or he wouldn't. SHe could not help him if he wouldn't first help himself. A soft sigh left her as he finally bent to the task of chewing on the plums..
They continued their game of gaze tag. Neither one giving an inch. The black and tawny woman was unsure what exactly it meant, but it felt important that she keep his gaze. That it was important to him to do so. That if she didn't she would fail something, but what she wasn't entirely certain, and it made her spine tingle in an uncomfortable way. The longing to wrinkle her maw past white teeth was a strong urge., but kept it at bay.
We are on the edge of my pack's borders. Do not worry. They will not harm you, because I am healing you. Though we cannot tarry long.
The boy hummed, the noise surprisingly gentle in his toothy maw. Around his shoulders, the skull shifted with his weight, digging into his shoulders.
A reminder. He pressed the nudging of a ghost away.
I will accept your healing.
He said.
But then I must go.
Another inhale. He really needed to stop tasting ghosts, for he could taste the smell of his Father again. Only a flick of his ear showed he was displeased about it.
She heard the soft hum and it brought a small smile to her face. May I ask about the Skull? There is a wolf in our pack who reads bones, is that what you do? Or is it a different reason?
Good, because you need to settle your stomach. Truthfully. I have done all I can. Now you must just watch for the water to come back in your lungs while you sleep. If i were you this evening. I would not lay completely down.
She had only heard briefly of dry drownings, when someone had water in their lungs from earlier and rose up to drown them in their sleep, but he was young and inexperience with water, she was assuming at any rate.
Take some Plums with you. Eat some tomorrow and you should be as right as rain?
She looked him over, with a small nudge she pressed at his side. Does anything else hurt? Do you need any other type of medicine. I see no wounds. Are you hungry? I can put some aloe on the wounds from the tines.
You may not.
It was a simple statement, no snap or hiss like he was irritated by the question. To soften the words, he smiled.
Hes not fond of the questioning.
It was her next words that caught his attention, and he ignored the rest of what she said to mull over the thought of there being another.
Really, truly fascinating…another who reads the bones…
He murmured to himself, before his cornflower eyes lifted up to the woman’s once more, a smile starting to twist the skin of his muzzle.
Does this reader have a name?
Blue eyes met blue eyes and she blinked slowly, but backed up and titled her head at his next words.
he's crazy great. Hopefully his skull doesn't decide to attack me.
She nodded. He has many. Ingram, the dreadfather.
She had not realized she was to keep his existence a secret or that he read bones
He seemed proud of this skill and this wolf was not part of the pack and the chance of meeting each other was wide and varied.
Ha!
Haha!
It was! It was his father!
Oh lucky days! The ghosts murmured in their chittering choir, the boy’s half smile split into a full, maniac grin.
Oh, I know.
His smile didn’t fade, even as he jolted to his feet. He was jittering in place even now, the skull adjusting to his now standing position
Give him a name. Give him the name Isangrim.
He was salivating, slobbering, a ghost, a slave to the madness that plagued his lineage from the start.
And tell him how Pelagius replaced him.
His tongue curled out from behind his canines, curving up over his snout. His grin never faded, even as he slipped into the shadows.
Thank you!
He chimed cheerily, because even the criminally insane should have manners, before he was off at a trot, pleased as punch.
Did I do good?
Of course you did.
Ash Paw shifted very imperceptibly as soon as the boy began to grin like a hyena. A most uncouth beast that they were.
She poised to run. But the boy didnt set upon her merely bade her carry a message. A mesaage that sounded quite, well, unhinged.
She stared at him with a haughty expression and dipped her muzzle.
Alright.
She was over this meeting now. Thank you very much.
She aniffed as he walked away though a stare of surprise furrowed between her eyes at his manners
You're welcome?