a few days after her talk with sable, towhee jr contemplates his question deeper. easier, on her own, or as she patrolled by herself. easier to work through it, to wonder ... if, if if —
almost five months and she now recognizes that her inability to hear and 'speak' were her own afflictions and not shared by the general canine population.
her hostility and general aggression towards strangers would, probably pose a problem ... but these things are not enough to keep her from letting the question take flight, that plaguing what if and slip from the borders of moonspear.
on her own.
she would never know how she would fare if she didn't even attempt it.
she heads towards the trees of the bramblepoint, staying closer to moonspear ... but not close enough that she would run into any one she knew ( or so she thought ). cautiously, towhee jr moves through the copses of towering trees; eyes and nose alert.
While on his way to fish at the Big Salmon Lake, Bronco passed through Bramblepoint, snacking on a few berries along the way. He’d seen his kids come back with berry smears along their cheeks and knew that they had been leaving the borders to snack in the area but knew there was little to be done about it. Forbidding them would only push them away further.
Besides, the berries were delicious, and good on them for getting some extra vitamins in their growing bodies.
When he spotted the other young wolf, he did a double take. While she wasn’t exactly small, she was young- and too small still to be Towhee but in every other way, she was a dead ringer for his aunt. The young one looked watchful and he suspected he’d be spotted within moments. He flicked what remained of his ears forward and waved his tail.
the sweet tang of the berries is almost sickening to jr's sensitive nose.
but she pushes forth, steps only halting when the motion of a stranger catches and holds her eye.
he is large, scarred ... even from the distance between them and instantly towhee jr is on guard, hackles bristling.
would it not have been for him being in her direct line of sight, she might've missed his scent over the cloy of the berry bushes and did not hear him.
she makes a noise to alert him to her presence, a vibration that was more growl than it was anything else. a question posed bluntly in the noise: friend? or foe?
her gaze is trained upon him; hawkish and marksman sharp, intent on his body language.
The kid is only just a bit older than his own, but a bit young still in his opinion to be out on her own. Her guarded expression was indicative enough of some trepidation- after all, she’d just come face to face with a stranger who looked like him.
He couldn’t erase the scars with a smile, or a wave of his tail, and every time he was reminded of that fact it made his heart ache. He had to accept that there was nothing he could do about his looks.
He sniffed the air and thought he could detect a hint of Moonspear hanging about her. There was no mistaking it, though- this had to be one of Towhee’s kids. He’d bet the farm on that one.
-I’m a friend- He signed. Of course, the kid could probably hear he figured- but the ptero he felt was a sure fire way to identify himself as being familial.
to towhee jr's great surprise, he uses ptero.
the hostility morphs into unbridled surprise across her facial features; warring internally within herself.
her instinctual mistrust of anyone she does not know battles against the fact that he knows and used ptero. knew to use it ... which threads to the connection that he must know her mother.
or knew her.
of course, she is jumping to many assumptions without much than him knowing how to sign to back it up.
still, it is enough to cause jr's guard to lessen. just a smidge.
-you know ptero?- she inquires, paws motioning out the words she cannot hear nor speak; a freely given segue for him to explain.
Often. ptero earned him a look of scrutiny, but the young one tilted her head and her eyes brightened. He felt confident now that this had to be one of Towhee's kids, probably one of her latest. Perhaps a granddaughter, if Meerkat had had more children this year.
When she responded, it was without words. He figured, then, that he could reply without speaking and rely solely on ptero.
-I can. I learned from a wolf named Towhee. My name's Bronco,- He said, with a slight smile. His namesign was a bit of a fluorish- kicking up his hind heels though he noticed now that his lower back didn't cooperate quite as much as it used to. He wondered if he might have to adapt his namesign when he got older, and could no longer buck. -What's yours?- He asked.
he learned from towhee. this does not necessarily surprise her, but it does not soothe the entirety of her prickly nature, either.
-towhee's my name,- she tells bronco, a small smirk tugging at the edges of her lips. -towhee jr. towhee, the og is my mother.- she explains, though she felt like perhaps it was unwarranted given that she was as if someone had printed out a copy of her mother.
-where are you from, bronco?- she signs, the motions coming out a bit more demanding than one so young should have any right to be. but she was wholly and stubbornly unapologetic for it.
His mouth slipped open as he sighed, smiling. Now, things made sense- it would have been too big of a coincidence for a wolf to look this much like Towhee without being one of her relatives, he thought. He appraised her now with a smile, and drew forward to sit when she began to ask a question. He could tell by her scent that she was likely a part of Moonspear, which meant she wasn't too far from home. She was safe with him, at least- and he knew Towhee generally was a pretty chill Mom.
-I kinda figured,- He said, -Though you probably get that all the time. Your Ma's lived a lot of places, so she's like...Sort of a celebrity around here,- He admitted. -She's like a second Mom to me, and helped raise me when I was a brat. So technically, I'm from Sun Mote Copse, but I live over there on the Caldera, now.- He explained. -You ever been to the Caldera?- He asked.
he was family, boasting of a close familiarity with her mother.
it isn't entirely enough for towhee to let her guard down in it's entirety, but she relaxes visibly. anyone could claim they were family, and though she was liable to believe him due to the fact that he was using ptero to sign to her, she couldn't help her instinctual predisposition towards distrust.
at the telling that her mother lived many places, towhee makes a low huff borne of contemplation.
-no,- she signs in response to his question about the caldera. though something about the word triggers some sort of hazy memory, it is not one that towhee can latch onto or make any sort of sense of.
-maybe i'll live a lot of places too.- admittedly, she'd been angry at her mother for leaving her and sable, but now that she's tasted adventure on her own ... she thinks she might like exploring, even if it posed plenty of risks for her in particular.
-Maybe you will,- Bronco signed with a smile. It was certainly something she would come by honestly, he thought. -And you'll see all sorts of things, all different places. Oceans, forests, mountains....Deer, elk, jackalope, faeries,- he signed, with a faint smile. Some of Wraen's stories still stayed with him. He hadn't always had an ear for fantastic and fictitious things, but being a father had changed him. Those stories and lores had been passed on to more than just one generation- and he intended to keep them going forward.
his words ignite towhee's imagination, as least where the varying landscapes are concerned. though it is the faeries bit that both perplexes her and prompts the hastily signed, -faeries?!-
would she have been able to speak, it would've been blurted out loudly. her rapidfire signing falls a bit flat of that, but the perplexed look she can feel of her face speaks the volume that she, herself, cannot muster.
jr draws in a breath and prods further, -what is a faerie?- the word is foreign to her, the signing of it an unfamiliar gesture of her paw.
eagerly, she watches bronco's paws for an explination.
She was enthused, surprised. He knows the swiftness of her movements indicate an intense interest that he was keen to share. A light pang of grief managed to worm its way into his heart. If only Wraen were here. Her stories were the best, and he felt saddled uncomfortably with the responsibility of passing them on, though he knew his retelling of legends, fairytales and myths would pale in complexion next to hers. Those stories, told by the legend herself, would be his to remember, a treasure he could never truly share with anyone else. He could only offer them a glimpse.
-Well, They're small things, and often you don't see them, just the things that they do.- He expained. -They live in forests, they love big, old, mossy trees...They like to play tricks, and they love to trade and make deals, but you always have to be careful- they are very proud, and very easy to offend,- He warned. He smiled, eyes twinkling. -I knew someone once...And she learned the hard way that one should never insult a faerie...- He said.
jr, usually operating in a manner that is more serious for her age than she perhaps should've been, feels the smart of embarrassment in her cheeks at her 'blurt'.
but the word is so foreign and so magical sounding that she couldn't help herself ... and the damage was done anyway. she couldn't backpedal. the ptero was already signed like a flourish of a quill, ink spilling out upon parchment the words she deigned to but would never speak.
bronco describes them as small, unseen things that play tricks. make deals. are proud and easy to offend.
-who?- it likely didn't matter who, for jr probably didn't know them anyway, but it seems important. -what did she do? what did the faeries do to her?-
He knew the look of a new believer when he saw one. Towhee Jr looked a bit skeptical, of course, but her curiosity at least meant that she was going to give him a chance to explain, rather than dismissing the notion entirely. He'd learned that when talking of such things, one must believe full-heartedly in the story. Such things had been told to him as distinct fact- no salt necessary.
-My Great-Godmother,- He replied. He kept Wraen's smiling face in his mind, and hoped he would honour her by referencing his memory of her, albeit with a bit of fantasy and fiction mixed in. -She and her mate lived by a creek, though many others in the area cautioned them as it was a part of a faerie highway. Others had settled there, and left eventually- leaving a trail of woeful stories behind them. Some woke up in the morning with every single tuft of fur so tangled, it could never be undone. Some found their thirst for water could never be truly met and would drink until their stomachs were as round as a boulder. Some children went missing and returned....Different.- He said, his brow furrowing.
The story went on, and he breathed in, as though to lighten the subject. -But it was a beautiful place, and my Great-Godmother and her mate had three beautiful children there, named Strawberry, Buck and Sturgeon- for the three moons of summer. They lived there without much incident, until the Autumn came.- He said, and paused.
-different?- she interrupts the story, unable to keep her curiosity at bay, especially when she was afraid bronco wasn't going to elaborate. -different how?- she signs next, rapidly; reminding herself to slow down her signing.
despite herself, jr finds herself enraptured by the tale of his great-grandmother and her pack that had settled in this faerie haunt.
she blinks once, twice at bronco as he mentions that there had been no incident until autumn.
-what happened in the autumn?!- she encourages, too invested for him to leave it on that nail-bitting cliffhanger. -you can't leave me hanging like that!-
-Very different,- He supplied, with a somewhat vague expression. It was difficult to explain- having never seen such a thing, but the tales told to him made him believe firmly that should the fair folk exist, he would never want for one of them to get a hold of his children, and have them return, changed.
Towhee Jr begged for him to continue, and he drew in a breath, trying to keep his expression serious despite h9ow good it felt to have a youngster listening to his stories so excitedly.
-One day, my Great-Godmother went down to the brook to drink, and to get cleaned up at the end of a long day. They had hunted, but had caught nothing, so everyone was exhausted, hungry, and on edge. The children had been tucked away in the den to sleep for the night, and she left her mate in charge of making sure that they went to sleep. She wasn't down at the brook for very long before she began to hear voices in the woods- but not just voices...
She could hear the voices of her children. Laughing, talking, playing- scaring off the fish in the brook that my Great-Godmother had hoped to catch so that her family could at least have breakfast. Now, she couldn't see them, but she could hear all three of them galavanting about in the brush so she took to hollering at them-
STRAWBERRY!!! BUCK!!! STURGEON!!!!- While he did not cry the names out, he certainly put the effort into making it look as though he was shouting at the top of his lungs. -YOU GET YOUR LITTLE WHIPPY TAILS BACK INTO THE DEN THIS INSTANT! IF I GET HOME AND YOU'RE NOT TO BED, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU EACH A PROPER SPANKING!! NOW YOU GIT HOME AND GIT TO BED!-
He paused.
-And the voices stopped. There was silence. Figuring they had listened to her, she took one more look in the brook- of course, the fish had all swam away at the sound of her screaming- and then turned to start back up the hill, but stumbled. Not really over anything, just...It was like something had tripped her. But her paw was fine, and there was no stick in the way, so she figured she was just tired and cranky, and went back home up the hill.-
-She was still fuming when she got home, to find her husband asleep at the mouth of the den. She woke him up and gave him a talking-to as well, for having let the kids out, but he was completely shocked at what she was saying- and insisted that the kids were all inside, and fast asleep and when she went inside...They were. All snuggled up, snoring away, like they'd been sleeping for hours.-
He was still for a moment, before he continued.
-The next morning, she noticed it. ---The lump.---
jr watches bronco's paws; enraptured, letting the story imagery take shape in her mind.
her tail thumps the ground eagerly as she reclines upon her haunches; swept in the story.
-the lump?- she signs; tilting her head to the side. -was that the faerie's curse?-