In his time since his acceptance, Tryphon had not tried to get along with anyone. He hadn't met anyone aside from Bazi, and the male named Scimitar - although that had been brief. It had been days, weeks even, since he had joined the peak wolves; and yet he felt more alone now, since rooting himself to this place, than any other time he could remember. Tryphon had tried to study the lay of the land and get a grasp on something familiar - he knew something was happening in his mind.
Something sparked a feeling of deja-vu within him as he paced among the trees or gazed at the mountain. Perhaps that was what kept him so withdrawn. A sense of alienation, of confusion, leaving the poor boy disoriented and useless. So with a great sense of guilt in his heart, Tryphon had risen that morning with the intent to correct his laziness. To make amends for not following through with his promise to Bazi. But as he advanced towards the mountain's base through the groves of trees, Tryphon felt a strong wave of nausea and dread slip over him.
He stumble-stepped, feeling a pounding sensation in his head, and nearly collapsed on the spot.
Scimitar had not strayed far from Bazi – and it had been noted by the male that Tryphon graciously remained close to her as well. The boy seemed intent to help her as required, and with the extra pair of eyes upon his mate, it allowed the Alpha to skirt the borders more, aiding his comrades in their defenses.
Today, a small squirrel hung limply form his jaws. It was not the most prized catch, but it was something, and he could only hope it would satiate his beloved’s hunger as the days of her birth drew nearer. His pace was quick – ample white paws carrying him to the fallen tree den when his eyes would fall upon a silver form, stumbling along the slope. He recognized the youth instantly the moment his bright eyes flashed upon the golden mask, and with worry, Scimitar dropped the meal and moved closer to inspect the boy, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “Tryphon?” It was not a walk that indicated he was well, and pulling his muzzle back, the Alpha took a moment to study him.
He swayed and stumbled, catching himself before fully hitting the earth with his face. The disorientation was similar to a concussive blow to the head - he felt a wave of pain near the back of his skull, a catch in his throat like bile wanting to come up, and the sounds around him were murky. So when Scimitar reacted and called out to him, Tryphon did not immediately respond. He heard the word as if it were spoken through a wall; as if ocean waves were crashing around him, or a conch shell was held close to his ears. There was no recognition to the word itself - but Tryphon did lift his head and turn a flustered, confused look towards the noise.
The boy rose up to half-height, his tail naturally curling against his hocks, and looked at Scimitar as if he was seeing him for the first time - and also not. His eyes narrowed. "Who are...?" He started to slur, but then sort of.. Tripped. Falling softly sideways due to his disorientation, resting like a lump upon his round belly's side. "I don't... My head, it hurts..." He sighed, slumped, and lay prone upon the ground - one limb awkwardly raising and crossing over his snout, as if to hide.
Of all of the wolves to come upon the silver boy in his time of need, it could be assumed that Scimitar would be the most useless in this situation. The large man watched with a wary eye as the youth mumbled.. and then slumped down once more. A rush of air blew out from Scimitar’s lips as his eyes flitted over the youth, and rushing forward, the man bent his muzzle down to nudge his companion gently, his nose finding the boy’s shoulder. With Paarthurnax gone, they did not have a healer who had stepped forward yet, and for a stolen moment, Scimitar was uncertain of what to do.
Tipping his muzzle up, the regal called – for anyone, really, to come forward and aide. As his cry faded, the cinnamon Frostfur bent his muzzle down once more, inspecting his companion.
“Tryphon,” he rumbled quietly, giving another nudge, this time to the boy’s cheek.
“Did you eat something? Did you hit your head?”
Hey hey hey
Her seat from beside the stream became abandoned the second Scimitar's voice reached her ears, his sound alarmed, immediately causing her heart rate to quicken. Falwasi couldn't help but strike up the image of her Alpha, bloodied, wounded, victimised.. comparable to the result of the Blackfeather Woods battle — it would have been a lie to deny her loss of her usual cool demeanour.
Adrenaline coursing through her body, the young warrior tracked the male's scent through the forest of pines. As she galloped on, his scent began to mingle with another — an unfamiliar one, but one of their own. Dread gnawed at her as she ran, hoping her thoughts of the stranger usurping her friend were false.
Soon enough Falwasi reached the two males, pushing the brakes on her speed with natural ease as they entered her view. The heaviness she felt was lifted from her across her body as she saw Scimitar unharmed, but the stranger likewise untouched yet seemingly anile.
"What happened?" she asked, monotone, casting a quick glance at her pack-mate.