The sky had darkened into night, the glow of the moon shrouded behind dense cloud cover. It was not raining, but the air was damp and cool and it promised to rain soon. On the heels of his trip to the plateau, the blue-nosed wolf made no deviations as he trekked toward the caldera. He was weary by the time he arrived, not at the borders, but at the lake that neighbored them. Here, next to the calm serenity of the water, he found a level of comfort. He scratched a makeshift den into the soft earth amid some shoreline moss, beneath the shelter of overhanging boughs.
It was his plan now to wait. To stalk the fringes of the caldera in hopes of crossing paths with its black alpha. It could take a while, but Luke had nothing but time, and was determined not to leave until he saw his companion. It had been too long, and now amid the concern that had been shadowing his sun was a degree of guilt. He last left Peregrine with a tease, fleeing just as things began to get hot, and though he had not intended to be absent for so long, he was easily sidetracked a poor tracker of time. But that was secondary to his worry.
What had happened here, for Fox and Saena to have mauled each other, and Fox to have denied him from seeing Peregrine? The question nagged him, and he did not sleep. He only dozed restlessly.
Once more, he wandered the night, unbeknownst to anyone, especially himself. Tonight, Peregrine followed the same path he had trekked on his maiden voyage, which led him to the distant shore of Lake Rodney. Once again, he walked right into the water, only to backpedal several feet to avoid it. His unfocused jade gaze dropped to watch the black ripples until the water became smooth as glass again, reflecting the nearly full moon.
He stood there for perhaps half an hour, then turned suddenly and began walking along the water's edge, heading away from the caldera and toward the uncharted wilderness beyond it to the southwest.
Luke stirred in his shallow sleep, and then awoke and stared blinking into the night. Something had waken him that time, but it took several minutes before his mind registered that it was a scent drifting past his blue nose that had caused him to rouse. Peregrine. The white wolf swiftly stood and glanced around, expecting to see the alpha standing right before him. But he was not, and for a moment he believed he had imagined the scent. But no, it was still there about him. He sniffed deeper, looked harder. A shadow moved along the lake edge.
The lone wolf padded toward it, still unconvinced. What would Peregrine be doing out here in the middle of the night? He was anticipating waiting at least several days before catching so much as a glimpse of his companion, but here he was, or here he seemed to be, right now at the lake. Luke shook his head, and still doubted the identity of the shadow until he drew up behind it, stopping several feet away. It was him. His heart drummed.
"Perry?" he called out softly.
When the lake began to curve, Peregrine didn't follow it. He forged ahead in a perfectly straight line, walking slowly but purposefully away from his home. When a pale shadow glided up behind him, he remained utterly oblivious. Even when Luke called his name, he didn't do much more than twitch. Otherwise, he ignored it, as if he hadn't heard it. More than likely, it hadn't really registered with him.
But after perhaps two more minutes, he suddenly slowed, then stopped. Peregrine's features shifted into an expression of confusion. He looked around himself, eyes dim, and finally caught sight of the ghost at his heels. Slowly, he pivoted around to face Luke, his face smoothing out like black marble.
"M... you..." he mumbled, voice barely audible. His tail gave a twitch and his ears fell back, though he said nothing more.
Perhaps that was Luke's greatest character flaw: that he so quickly became invested in those around him. He had a sensitive heart, one that presently had been replaced with a bird in his chest that was trying desperately to escape. In the grand scheme of things, he hardly knew Peregrine, and yet he cared for him as though he had been a part of Luke's life for years. He cared similarly for other wolves whom he'd known for just a short time, like Saena. So, he had found himself troubled by events that really had nothing to do with him, and that he should not be worried over.
But here he was, swallowing thickly as Peregrine turned to look at him, after being silent at length. "Yeah," he said barely above a whisper, his brows furrowing as he gazed upon a face he did not entirely recognize; a face that was once as dark as shadow had now heavily grayed; a face that bore a strange expression. Luke's own ears fell back. He was unable to restrain himself, and in one smooth motion swept to his companion and pressed his muzzle into Peregrine's neck. "I've been worried about you," he murmured.
He blinked slowly when the white wolf drew nearer. Peregrine's expression shifted from blank to confused, then back to blank in about three seconds. It was another case of mistaken identity. For a split second, he didn't recognize the wolf in front of him. But the moment that blue nose touched against his neck, Peregrine knew exactly who stood before him. His face grew even slacker, all the muscles in his body relaxing...
"Why?" he breathed quietly, leaning into the white male, unfocused jade eyes slowly closing as he enjoyed the intimacy of this light embrace.
Luke was oblivious to Peregrine's state of mind. Though he sensed something was off, he assumed it was an aftereffect of whatever had happened at the caldera. Peregrine accepted his touch, leaning into him, to which the white wolf breathed a sigh of relief. In the instant following his affectionate gesture he expected teeth and anger, to be chastised for the way he had left his companion and for how long it took for him to return. But all he got was a soft why.
"I tried to see you and Fox chased me off," he said softly, his muzzle still pressed against the black alpha's neck. "I spoke to your daughter. She was wounded badly, attacked by your mate when she tried to visit." He paused, pulling back so that he could meet Peregrine's gaze. "You're even gray now. What happened?"
When his companion spoke, Peregrine's lips pursed gently, his brow furrowing. Luke might have seen it as a reaction to his words and he wouldn't have been wrong, exactly. But the Kappa's confusion was brought on by a reason quite different reason than what the blue-nosed wolf might have expected. Truth be told, he only registered every fourth word or so. It was the smoothness with which they were spoken that left Peregrine slightly bewildered, though as soon as Luke's voice trailed away, it was like Peregrine forgot all about it.
All he cared about was that gentle touch. Slowly but deliberately, the unconscious Peregrine slid closer to Luke, arching his neck to wrap around the other male's. Their chests touched and he felt both their heartbeats. His own was slow and steady, Luke's much more birdlike. That made some sort of sense at least. Peregrine's lips twitched, then his blanched features slackened again.
"I feel..." he started, then stopped. He let out a long, low, sleepy breath. "Safe."
It seemed he would continue receiving answers he was not anticipating, but were not unwelcome either. Peregrine shifted forward and embraced him, and Luke did not argue, though his sense of something being off had deepened. For the moment however, the white wolf simply preened the fur around his companion's shoulders. "You're safe," he murmured, his heart continuing to beat rapidly in his chest. "Tell me what happened, please," he pleaded. His concern had barely ebbed by just seeing Peregrine, especially that the male had grayed and now was behaving so oddly. Whatever had happened must had been deeply traumatic.
"Safe," Peregrine repeated, exhaling the word into Luke's ear. He drew in a breath, which hitched oddly in his throat. He held it. The scent, it wasn't right... but the moment passed quickly, as it tended to do in this mental state. He touched his nose to his companion's earlobe, nuzzling the soft patch of pale fur there. "Safe," he murmured a third and final time.
He drew back slightly when Luke asked him to explain what had happened. Right then, Peregrine tumbled briefly into a vivid nightmare, a flashback to the day of the incident. He saw Junior striking at Wildfire's neck. "No..." he moaned low in his throat, legs suddenly crumpling. He sat, hard, then sprawled onto his belly so abruptly that his face brushed the length of Luke's chest on the way down.
Something about the brief flutter of sateen fur against his face calmed and soothed Peregrine's nightmare. He remained where he had sunk onto the ground, yet didn't say anything more. Instead, he tipped his head back to gaze up at Luke, eyes open but distant. A faint smile drifted over his mouth, then faded, and then he leaned against his companion's legs like a child wanting to be held.
"Perry!" Luke exclaimed, as his companion moaned and then crumpled before him like a ragdoll. His silver eyes were wide with shock and worry, his mouth held slightly agape with the same startled feeling. He gazed down into Peregrine's jade green eyes as Peregrine's head tilted to look up at him, and felt a chill crawl up his spine. His eyes were open, but unfocused, distant, as though he was not really looking at Luke at all. "Perry..." his voice cracked. He swallowed, unsure of what to make of this, but wishing dearly that he did. His once proud, powerful companion, was a troubled, fallen king. Not knowing what else to do, Luke did what he knew: he crouched down, cradling his friend as he gently brushed his muzzle against Peregrine's ears and bathed the top of his head with his blue tongue.
The warm wetness of a tongue against his face caused Peregrine's lips to part in a ragged, nearly inaudible moan. Even in his sleep, he felt torn about accepting such affections, though his impulse control was evidently shot when he was unconscious, for he leaned upward and into the ministrations, eyes closing once more. He began to rise slowly, pushing himself back into an upright position without ever moving his head. When he had straightened, he then nudged Luke's chin gently and began licking his face in turn, although quite a bit more tentatively on his part.
"How..." he mumbled in between passes of his tongue. "Where..." He lapsed into a silence that lasted a full minute or two before continuing his broken sentence. "Stut... ter...?"
Luke closed his eyes as Peregrine returned the gentle caresses, his own ministrations having stopped when they began. His ears twisted as the dark man spoke brokenly, confusion evident in the words that formed. "You're not far from home," he assured, even as it occurred to him that his companion was in an altered state of consciousness; that he was sleepwalking. Luke had heard of such a thing but had never seen it for himself, and was not aware of how to treat it. So he offered comfort, as much as he could, which he would have done if Peregrine had been awake and so hurt and confused. "You're with me," he said as he reached forward to nibble the male's cheek. "I'll stay with you."
For the first time since rising like a wraith and leaving the rendezvous site behind an hour or so ago, Peregrine came close to the surface of sleep. Funnily enough, it happened at nearly the same moment that Luke finally realized what was happening. Peregrine's jade eyes seemed to clear and focus, though only for an instant, as Luke said the words, "I'll stay..." He then drifted back off to dreamland again, swaying on the spot but then drifting forward to rest his head on Luke's shoulder.
Over the next fifteen minutes, Peregrine edged closer to Luke, inch by painstaking inch, until he was pressed quite tightly against his companion. He sighed. "Thanks, Pan," he said before closing his eyes and falling into true, deep, dreamless and motionless sleep.
When he woke in his bed the next morning, he would have no recollection of the night's events, save for the vague recollections of a vivid dream, the details and colors leeching away in those first few moments of waking, never to be recalled. And aside from the fatigue that plagued him, he would never even know he had risen at all... nor somehow, mysteriously, found his way back home.
Peregrine pressed against him, and Luke shifted to embrace him as much as he could, his muzzle caressing his companion's ears and the side of his head. The word pan did not register to him as a name, that he had been mistaken for another. He thought he had heard man, or at least a garbled incarnation of the word, and thought nothing more of it. He kept his promise, and stayed with Peregrine for the night. For a long time while his companion slept, Luke lay awake wondering. None of his questions had been answered. He had found his friend unharmed but troubled, and so the dark cloud he had sought to chase off would linger still. He eventually fell into slumber himself, only to wake and find that Peregrine had gone. He tracked him for a short while, just enough to confirm that the man had gone home, then Luke returned to the lake and lay back down. He was weary from the turmoil of his mind. Now what.