Emberwood When our world was just the two of us

Heda and Amselm's scents were constantly overlapping. And Etienne each time he smelled it, felt his heart break a little bit more. He needed to leave here he was thinking. Go home for a time.

He shifted and tilted his head. Golden eyes on the horizon. His stomach felt sick. And he wanted to hate them both. And then soul crushing guilt that he felt that way. It was just a regular old cluster.

A tremulous shaky breath and he headed away from the pack lands. Perhaps some time away would do him some good. He'd be back maybe.

Sandy feet on cold hard ground. The trees cocooned him in their spring bud embrace. Nearby birds tweeted and twirled as they flew back from whereever they went.

He found himself in a pretty little alcove. Where the trees made a semi circle and the sun dappled his brown and sand coat.

If this isn't all welcome just lmk!

Tybault was back at it with the hunt for the white fox. His presence beyond pack lands had a dual purpose now, however. Reverie had indicated that the valley would be the setting of the first segment of their journey; his job would be to ensure that the path ahead was safe.

That had been his role in The Gilded Sea. He fell into it easily enough now, idly picking up scents as he wound his way further into the valley. Tybault had warned @Everett and Reverie that he would be gone for a week or more, but he'd left them with filled caches, too. Besides — he was sure Reverie's fanclub would be on dinner duty willingly enough.

The scent of another wolf drew him off course, however. Tybault followed the scent to a little clearing and found an unfamiliar man; his scent was wreathed with others. A pack wolf, then. Tybault chuffed to catch his attention.

it was. I fixed it <3

Etienne was not expecting anyone to crash his pity party. So he was momentsrily surprised when a wolf colored in the lines of the sun was there to greet him. Handsomely hooded. Etienne dipped his head in greeting.

There was a shape to his face that made him recognizable, but Etienne could not place it.


'ello.

So sorry for the wait, I should be quicker now <3 forever grateful for your endless patience

Tybault was struck first by the warmth in the stranger's face; it was a natural sort of warmth, a kindness that made its home there so often it lingered even when chased away by things such as sorrow. What struck him next was exactly that — the sorrow hanging like a cloak around him. For a moment Tybault only studied the other wolf.

Then, finally; Hey. You alright? The words were soft. Tybault was surprised by himself, just a little. When was the last time he'd cared for some stranger's plight?

Well — today, apparently.

no problemo <3

There was a closing in this ones face. But there was also a kindness to him. Etienne always found the good though. So perhaps.

Etienne smiled. I will be eventually. I be Etienne, but you can call me Eti.

A shift and he ghosted a step closer. I be from de revenwood.

Eventually. Tybault wondered what it must be like to feel that sort of optimism. He too moved closer, settling into a sit. Etienne of — Revenwood? He'd never heard of that pack, but there was no energy in him for curiosity now.

Tybault of Hushed Willows, He introduced himself. You wanna talk about it? Maybe Tybault wasn't the best choice of counselor — but he was what the world had coughed up just then. He was here, and he cared, and that was more than he'd ever received in his own deepest moments of sorrow. So maybe it would be enough.

Etienne saw no way to be pessimistic. It just made you feel worse and you couldn't find the joy. SO he tried his hardest to be as optimistic and joyful as he could. He fell flat sometimes.

Etienne tilted his head and pressed an ear forward. The countenance of a little boy on a man's face.

Mmm. Did you ever love someone so muc' it 'urt and dey didn't care to love you back or at the very least didn't make you see dey did. So you is unsure? But you also be knowin' dat if you be tellin' it may ruin everyting.

Tybault fell silent for several long moments, thrown into a contemplative sort of turmoil by the question. He wasn't quite sure how to answer. Of course his first thought was of Reverie; once Ophelia, once his sole confidant and the center of his world. But that girl, he'd realized far too late, had died the day she'd shed her name for something new.

That wasn't the question, though, was it?

He wasn't sure she'd ever realized just how much he'd loved her. Or maybe she had; maybe that was what drove her so far away — or maybe, maybe, maybe that was just what his fear had always told him. Tybault couldn't be sure. But he thought he could relate to Eti in some odd way.

So he nodded.

Sometimes people just aren't ready to be loved, He murmured, still thinking of Reverie. His gaze drifted toward the trees as he went on. Or they are, but not the way you love them. And there's nothing you can do. Nothing but walk away for your own sake.

Tybault's eyes found Etienne again after a moment. But you never know til you try, right? A little cynical, a little humorous, more than a little bitter; he made no effort to cover the skeletons that stood glaring from his closet. They would never see each other again anyway, right?

Etienne had not expected an answer not really. IT was a hard question, non. And on top of that. This wolf owed him nothing to be frank. He could listen of course and offer his own suggestions or ways. But could he really truly answer Etienne?

Etienne's ears perked forwards. sometimes people just aren't ready to be loved how true and how sad. But there it was the walking away. That was the hardest part. For him at least.

I could try, but most wolves do not be likin' the same gender. Dat be anotter problem dat I must add to my own tings.

HE was not ashamed of himself in the least.

The same gender. Tybault stiffened, hackles lifting as the implication settled in. For a long moment he couldn't bring himself to speak. His thoughts were all abuzz, filled with memories of so many hushed, tearful conversations among the tall grasses of The Gilded Sea.

What do you mean? The words came out just as tense as he felt. He looked away from Etienne, toward the trees, and found he could not look back. Most wolves do not be likin' the same gender. Bile burned at the back of his throat.

Etienne saw the movement in slow motion. His own fur rose and he backed up. HE wasn't about to get attacked for something he had no control over. Nor something he was ashamed off. However, he did lift his head boldy and blinked.

Exactly wut I be sayin' and it be okay if you not be likin' it. I will be leavin' den I spose. You 'ave a good day.

Maybe he should have said something more. Apologized. The tightness in his throat kept any words he might have spoken locked tightly away. Instead he watched the trees for several long moments.

Then his gaze turned back toward Etienne, whether the man was retreating already or not. He wouldn't ask him to stay. Instead Tybault would watch him leave, as he'd watched everyone else leave time and again. And if his eyes shone with tears he would never let himself shed, at least no one would be around to question him about it.

This was how things always went. He wasn't sure why he still tried.