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crooked antlers - Silas - May 29, 2017 It had been something in the back of his mind for a while now. Even before he had turned away from the fallen Glade, back when spring had finally thawed, and even before Tambourine had vanished from his side.. he couldn't help but think of the willows. He missed them, although had come to accept why they had left. Still, it was the last place his family had ever been almost-whole (Pippin was difficult to envision and even remember sometimes) and presumably, where they had known him to be last. Not that he expected them to ever find him again, not anymore, but there was some old happy nostalgia about it.. and the reedy Ostrega would never entirely discredit the idea, of course.
So day after day, he had worked away at a path easing him out of the Tuktu. He said no farewells to the family that had taken him in once, although hoped for their best wherever they had gone to--despite their paths diverging, and him feeling a little bad about leaving them without a word, not wanting to make them wonder about him. In fact, he figured it had been best that he had always stayed beneath the radar. An easy, forgettable presence, hopefully. But he really didn't know what he was doing surrounded by such stark unfamiliarity, and the weather didn't make the travels easy some days. Even his nose struggled for a good grasp on where to guide him. Rain, wind, humidity, and otherwise heavy clouds only worsened the more he went, especially once the Hinterlands were at his back. Day after day, he finally fell into some sort of routine with far less resistance. Forward, paws over grass and stone and dirt and creeks and mire. He rested when he found shelter, ate when he could find it, and just went. Vaguely northward seemed good. The tracker barely knew where the willows would be from here. They had traveled in poor conditions his first and only trip down this way, so scenery wasn't looking very familiar yet. He had no idea, besides to go away from where it had hurt. Didn't matter to where. When a new downpour chased him out of a meadow he had been trying to hunt in, he galloped towards the cover of a forest he didn't know the name of. His hackles prickled warily, curious to see if he would still be alone for long. He needed to eat something decent, weight was slipping off fast if he kept up this pace. He realized how badly his heart was racing now that he had finally slowed, taken a breath, and looked around with a low, tired whine eking past his lips. RE: crooked antlers - Qilaq - June 12, 2017 She’d gotten restless. One day became the next and she never felt… complete. She didn’t have to fight for her parent’s attention anymore with the absence of her younger siblings. She rarely thought of them and only when they’re brought up in conversation does she even remember they existed at all. She should be happy with all of their attention but in the depths of her heart she knows something is misplaced and, lingering around without purpose isn’t going to get her anywhere. With reluctance, she gives each of her parents a goodbye before she leaves them behind. It won’t be the last time she sees them—she knows deep in her chest—but for now, she’s on her own. She’s never had much of a wandering spirit so traveling gets boring rather easily. She puts her slow-developed skills to good use, thankful for Syzmon for teaching her everything she knows and Doe’s voice in the back of her head, keeping her save everywhere she goes. Qilaq tries to follow what seems familiar but here and there she becomes lost and nothing puts her on the right track until, one moment, she recognizes something. The forest, however, is wholly unfamiliar as she moves through it. She’d gone through something she recognized from the fields once she leaves the coast (breaking away before she gets to the bay). A scent catches her attention and her ears fall back on her head, looking around. The rain puts a damper on her surroundings and she can’t track the smell well enough so she wanders aimlessly until she sees a flash of grey and brown through the trees and a low sounding whine that puts her feet cemented on the ground. She knows the scent, and she thinks she recognizes the blur of fur, but she steps closer with her own whine and low swish of her tail. RE: crooked antlers - Silas - June 14, 2017 Now that he finally stopped rushing forward trying to cover ground and every single thing around him is still painfully unfamiliar (and washed out to boot), he can't help but feel heavy. It, if anything, is a constant for him. He knows how this is, and how it hurts him. Nothing is new within the territory of lost hope for the dark Ostrega and even now, he cannot help but be, in the tiniest of ways, infinitely impressed by the lows he has managed to track down this time.
He sighed again and stood shakily, forcing his paws one in front of the other to get him moving again. With a little momentum, it does seem to come easier, thankfully, and he picks up a heading to nowhere in particular through these woods--letting his nose, and a touch of subconscious, be the best guide he has. Lucky or not, it would at least go somewhere.
Realization came at him fast and it doesn't even give him time to reel properly. He narrowed his bright eyes immediately and took a few more shaky steps forward towards her, ears torn between aimed right at her and splaying all around anxiously. She was something familiar, somehow. It's a long ago thought, one not too overwhelming at the time, but maybe he has come closer than he knew. "You're.. here?" he croaked out awkwardly. Wherever this was, wherever he was going, and whoever she was. "I.. hi," he exhaled, and looked away apologetically, appearing every part the frazzled mess he felt like. He remembered she shared few words, so he'd mind his own mouth too now.
RE: crooked antlers - Qilaq - June 17, 2017 He notices her, recognizes her, and her heart flutters in a way it often does not. He is the first thing familiar since she left her parents and the urge to rush forward and embrace him is easily overwhelming. She whines several times and her tail speeds up behind her. Her nose bobs a few times and she takes a few steps forward. It doesn’t matter, he is the first grip on solid ground she’s had in weeks. Bright, grey eyes close as she surges forward and buries herself into his chest. She stumbles her weight into him and noses against his fur. Reluctantly, she untangles herself and puts space between them once more. It has been a long time since she’s seen him, most of which she has easily forgotten. His presence in her memory has not faded despite how much has become lost over time. His name being one of them. Rounded ears fall back against her head and she closes her eyes to settle over the sudden guilt, putting it aside so that she does not scare him away. “Heh-hey,” she murmurs. Her tail curls around one side of her hip as if she were going to sit down but she’s reminded of the wet ground as her paws squish in the dirt. She sighs and fidgets her position. “Yo-you’re wet too. This time,” she says as, slowly, her memory pieces back together. RE: crooked antlers - Silas - June 19, 2017 She closed the last swatch of distance between them with a burst, which the start of it all rendered him speechless and reeling when he felt the warmth of someone else. As unexpected as finding anyone familiar was, even her, he didn't consider this a bad turn of events.. strangely enough. He nosed his snout against her inky dark fur, uncertain, but there was hope in the gesture too. The possibility of that at all felt alien to him, and while his tail swayed, there remained a touch of hesitation--was this alright?
But he stayed stock still when she eased away from him and spoke, which was another surprise to him. His ears flicked forward towards her, and he tried to compose any modicum of himself he could find right now. "Oh.. y-yeah. I am," paired with a nervous laugh but his tail was still moving, just slower now. A lot else had changed since their first meeting, too. The dark Ostrega swallowed thickly. "I was in the middle of the field tryin' to hunt when it started pouring again.." he sighed, then stepped back to give his coat another tired shake. Most of what was left on him was just residual dampness by now. "I don't really know this place well, neither, and can't say I meant to end up here.. but it's okay," he straightened himself up, and he was glad he had. Silas knew it could be much worse than this--a familiar face even, despite not even knowing her name. He often felt in over his head with his undertaking of wandering and facing all of these sprawling unknowns, but in truth, he was coping in his own small ways. Before speaking on, he stepped closer and reached to poke his snout against hers carefully. "Are you.. are you hungry..?" Because despite the running of his mouth, he suddenly remembered he was feeling this famished, and that was part of why he'd come here when the open valleys had failed him. RE: crooked antlers - Qilaq - June 21, 2017 He explains why he is wet even if he does not have to. It is raining, she can tell that even from the thickly canopied forest. Still, she listens with attention and nods, though he makes it seem like this has become a common occurrence. Did it rain a lot when she’d been here last? The memory does not come forward, not that she is surprised, but she brushes the thought from her mind entirely. There’s no use worrying about it if she can’t make the memory come forth and she only latches on to a new thought when he distracts her with a question. Her eyes light up and she smiles, bobbing her head a few times. She cannot recall her last meal—out of longevity rather than her memory—and her stomach has long since stopped rumbling. It was likely some measly rodent she picked up along the way but there is promise here, something Silas has but he does not have, and she looks toward the ground expectantly. “Y-yes. Very hungry.” RE: crooked antlers - Silas - June 23, 2017 He felt immediately relieved, because he doesn't want to leave her and he knew he had to find something to eat soon. At least this way their interests merge enough, but he also realized that meant.. finding food for both of them. He peeled his eyes off her to look around, trying to decide which way in these woods to go. Desperately he wanted to chose the right way, and for this to just be easy somehow. "Me too. Starving, actually.." he murmured, sniffing at the winds and smelling wet forest loudly above all else. He had to find them something. At least he could do was try..
Gently, he brushed past her and started to move in the best direction he could pick--simply by deciding a solid that way! when nothing else convinced him. "There has to be something we can eat around here," he said, trying to brighten his dour, beaten-down mood further for all he was worth. Putting his nose to work on some sort of trail could help.. yet his tired hunger was to the point of distraction and this unfamiliarity of the turf was sickeningly overwhelming. "I.. um, I left my last pack a little while ago. I don't have anywhere really to be anymore," he explained as he began to sniff along, all the while not sure if he felt better with that weight off his chest. He had not told anyone, or anything, before just how lonely he, a notorious homebody, was without a home to call his own. "Do you?" he looked to her curiously.
RE: crooked antlers - Qilaq - June 30, 2017 He admits his hunger too and she frowns, wishing she had something to help feed him. Her own hunger has become a low constant, satisfied here and there with some finds in her scavenging. What little she does catch barely makes up for the energy she uses but now she has someone. She isn’t entirely sure what to make of the information but she knows it is significantly better than being alone. She noses through his fur as he moves by, feeling the vibration from his words. “N-no,” she admits, lips twisting in thought. She doesn’t remember if anyone had still been in Blackrock when she and her family decided to leave. “I wanted to come back,” she adds with a flicker of a smile. If only her parents had followed, everything would be better, but with a friend that becomes her companion will make up for what she doesn’t have. Swiftly, she spins around on her feels to follow after him. RE: crooked antlers - Silas - July 05, 2017 While he wants to read a sorrow into the answer that is much like his own, he decided not to dwell on it for now and accept it in stride with a knowing nod. He wanted to come back too, even without knowing where to exactly. The Keep? The Hollow? Somewhere. Instead, he is somehow relieved that they are aligning similarly so well. This made it easier, plus he can be encouraged by it--wondering if this is quite so mutual so soon.
Silas doesn't know what the road ahead will have in store for him once this rain lets up. But first things first. Food. He couldn't think straight, let alone plan a course for his days to come and how that may now involve another. He had to focus on this first. The tracker in him needed to shine now more than ever, despite being so muddled by travel and anxiety leading him to here.
He finally got a whiff of something earnest and took to a hopeful course with her towards what he hoped could be success for them both. Now, and also in days to follow.
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