Herbalists' Cache i never meant to be a savior

setting: early evening, twilight. partly cloudy, sub-zero, light breezes. backdated to january 23rd. @Wren

The gentle passing white light of tonight's moon only blessed the snow on the ground with a radiant glow, one that would have spread far and wide had it not been for the reliable coniferous trees that took up residency here.

It was not the trees the male sought in these lands, but instead everything underneath. The idle tales he'd heard back when Uaine Gorsedd was first forming, of the wonderful plants and remedies that lay in waiting beneath the shelter of pines and firs and spruce. Of blessed cures and traces of magic that could reverse death, breathe life, that could deter even the most vile of poisons.

No doubt these were exaggerations, but all tales came from some sort of truth, right?

And so it was in these cerulean-violet shadows that Kukulkan meandered, head dropped and nose dutifully seeking out distinguishing scents. With no prior medical knowledge, he wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, but he was familiar enough with what was considered more common plants - to him, all he needed to do was sniff out the differences. One of these might hold the cure for his sleeping stargazer.

Frozen, sturdy trunks scratched against his torso as he weaved around, leaning against each one idly while his mind and nose worked furiously. A tickle in his senses - something was near - and his pace quickened instantly. Ears perked, tail thrashing, K jogged through the patched snows and the pine needle-littered forest floor. This new scent was terribly new, terribly distinct...

... and as Kukulkan began to round the corner to find its source, he realized how terribly familiar it was.

"Wr--Wren?"
Incredulous.

She thought of home often, at times like these. When the sun sank close to the horizon and caressed it as if they were long lost lovers, painting the skies with vibrant shades with practiced strokes from a millennium of practice. But here, they didn't seem as vibrant. Especially not so when she could not see them, lost within the confines of some great forest that still yet paled in comparison of the towering ones from which she hailed, where colors were far more bountiful than they were here. Here her vision saw only shades of monotonous white and black, of browns and blacks and blues and muted greens but nothing beyond that. She missed the purples, the oranges, the yellows, the sun-kissed golds. She missed a lot of things about home but... as the she-wolf studied the odd forest surrounding her, she knew she was far, far from home.

The trees were odd here, she noted. They did not have broad leaves with which to soak in the warm rays of sun that weaved through the thick canopies; their leaves were not leaves at all, rather thin needles that blanketed the ground and formed a carpet that felt odd beneath her cracked and aching pads. The first time she had stepped foot in a forest like this, she had marvelled at these odd leaves, like needles. They had been foreign and new, something to be studied and marvelled at by her foreign eyes. Now it wasn't quite the same, though she still found herself pondering their oddness from time to time. She knew they were called 'pine,' a word snapped at her from a passerby that had seen her gawking at them.

"What, never seen a pine tree?" No, actually, she hadn't. But she had already run off by then.

Admittedly, her thoughts did not wholly belong to home or to the forest. They largely belonged to her hunger, that which curled like a beast in her bowels and preyed upon the meat on her bones. Winter was not a kind mistress to creatures like her, so frail even in the best of health that her life hung at the mercy of Chance. So far, Chance had been merciful to let her live moments longer. Winter, however, seemed to be preying on her luck. She hadn't found food for well over a week and a half now, her frame reflecting it. She looked skinny, albeit not overtly so. It was enough that she still struggled to continue going on for a destination that she didn't know the location of.

That was a lie; she had no destination at all.

She was just a lonely wolf in a lonely forest, wishing she could see the horizon through the cracks between the trees. But she couldn't, the trees too dense for her to see much beyond them at all. It made her want to cry. She was lost, wasn't she? Lost and cold and hungry and so, so alone. Just thinking of it made her all too aware of the coldness that smothered her bones, the little wolf trembling like a leaf in one of the many rough storms that had ravaged the coast. Though her father had hailed from the North, though maybe not quite as north as here, she bore a coat that was thin and meant for eternal summers. Her mother had once whispered to her on one late night that she had been born silver before the sun had woven sunshine in her pale fur and claimed her as its own. Maybe her mother spoke true and that was why she could not bear the cold now, with the sun lost from her view.

She had been wandering, then, looking for somewhere to hunker down for the night and pray that she woke up to see the dawn once more. She didn't pay any mind to her surroundings, too focused on her goal. She normally would have been far more alert, too paranoid to take even a moment to relax because she was too worried about whatever creature that may want to rip her flesh apart lurking around the odd corner. Now, though, she was sure that her nose was too numb to smell anything and she would bet her last few heartbeats that her ears had frozen and fallen off exactly three days ago.

She would regret this bet, especially as something familiar touched the pale wolf's ears.

( Something familiar, here? She didn't believe it. She couldn't. )

But it was familiar, wasn't it? Familiar, but foreign. She knew that voice, or maybe she once had. It was changed, now. No longer that of the boy she had once known in her youth, a boy she had not thought of but for the worst nights when she wanted to feel even a sliver of happiness and thought of her childhood. But this wasn't the voice of a boy, she noted, since it lacked the jovial tones of youth. They were gone, now, for the most part, replaced by the roughness of hardship and adulthood.

It was then that she turned, pale eyes that seemed too at home in the icy north wider than the moon. So her ears had not deceived her, had they? Though her lungs betrayed her, refusing to take in the cold air as she stared. There he was, someone she had not seen for a long, long time. A boy who was no longer quite a boy anymore, she noted. But she was no longer a girl, was she? She shouldn't be surprised by the change and yet, she was. Maybe it was the North that had changed him, she wasn't sure. If it was, the North had changed him quite a lot. Not enough, though. Not enough for her to not recognize him despite the time and land that had once distanced them.

"Kukulkan?" she asked in turn, her voice soft and struggling to form the complexities of speech. She had not spoken in a long time, not proper words beyond whines and yelps and the like. Yet here she was, talking once more with a voice that had not been heard by many. "Is it you? Truly?" Are you real? Is this real?

She wasn't sure.

so sorry love

the sheer dumb face faded quickly as soon as the frail figure moved. gods, she was as tiny as he remembered from their childhood, but now she was dangerously thin as well. her pale fur against the chill, it seemed natural, but with his root memories of her being from so far south, she seemed out of place. but only after his frantic gaze studied her over did he realize what was truly wrong.

her fur was unkempt. her belly sucked in, empty. her movements, when she did move, were weak and shaky. her voice a ragged shadow of what it used to be, what it should be. it left a pit deep in his gut, twisted and turned. it brought flashes of ibis to his mind.

how could he be failing everyone?

"sh shh wren yea. yea it's me..." he made a conscious effort as he closed in on her, hovering protectively, to keep his voice low, short. to hold back the panic and worry that he knew would otherwise be heavy in his words. ten thousand questions flooded his mind, but of everything he knew in the moment, it was that there was no time for any of them.

"wren i... ima get you outta here 'kay?" he glanced around hurriedly, the urgency of his original mission gnawing at him. would he have to choose which friend in his life to actively save, and which to passively leave behind? no. no, he couldn't allow himself to think about it like that. first things first. "wren ima take ya somewhere safe. ima take ya t'get better."

dipping down ever so carefully, he tried to nudge his maw under her neck and shoulders, trying to find a way to gently maneuver her onto him. but each time he did he found himself halting after the slightest effort, anxious he was hurting her. "are ya okay? i'll carry ya if... if y'need me to..." because right now ten thousand more questions and doubts filled his mind. flurrying about.

and he had answers to exactly one of them:
she couldn't stay here.


@Wren

Time seemed slow as Wren stared at Kukulkan, feeling as if she were staring at a ghost. God, he had changed so much, hadn't he? Did he still like playing pranks? Did he still like to marvel at little birds and lizards? Was his laugh still the same? He had changed, but how much? What remained of the boy she had spent her golden youth with, laughing and causing chaos like any good children with the world at their paws should? She turned her questions to herself and knew, with definite certainty, that the girl that he had known was close to completely gone. She didn't know where that girl was.

If anything, one thing remained the same: he was still quite a bit taller than her.

When he made to move closer to her, Wren's pale eyes widened fearfully. The pale wolf flinched away, backing up just slightly. Before he could react, though, the girl muttered, "I-I'm sorry..." Apologizing was like second nature to her, one always hovering at the back of her throat after every action she took. Old friends or not, she couldn't help instinct. Not when those who were supposed to be one of her most trusted had been the ones to cause her greatest torment. She tried to ease the tension in her failing muscles, tried to keep the fear in her eyes at bay despite how guilty she did feel. She didn't want him to worry any more than it seemed her already did, as much as he tried to hide it.

Eventually, she succeeded, if only slightly. She didn't look as terrified as she had originally, though her tail was still curled between her legs. She watched him with careful eyes, because every detail mattered. She had learned the importance of body language very quickly, capable of watching for every tick and twitch and trying to figure out what it meant for her. She wasn't sure she'd be able to survive this long if not for her attentiveness. Wren was still wary when Kukulkan got even closer, but at least she didn't flinch this time. Part of her still seemed to falter, though, as he came closer.

It felt odd hearing her name again. It had felt like a secret she kept close to her heart, sparing it to none but those who already knew it. She could remember the last time she had heard it spoken, coldly and harshly. Her sentencing--her banishment. But now it was spoken softly, pleadingly. There were mentions of safety from him, promises that he'd take her away from here and tuck her away some place where the things that lurked in this strange new world could not reach her. She kind of liked that idea.

Her thoughts were broken as he nosed at her stiff form, eyes going wide again as she fought against herself. Her limbs trembled, failing her, wanting to run but knowing she shouldn't. Her throat felt tight, her breaths soft and almost wheezing. There came a point where she couldn't take it, shifting away from the contact and stepping away. She didn't look at him as she spoke, her voice small and wavering, "Please don't." She couldn't stand the contact right now, even from someone she had once trusted. ( Did she still trust him? ) "I-I'll be fine. It's fine," she replied, her voice a bit firmer but lacking much confidence. "It's fine, r-really," she reassured him, though something in her voice made it seem like it wasn't just for him but maybe her as well.