Totoka River table for two

for @Swordfish <3 bonnie tag for ref in case he'd stay close!

"i can go no further."
he staggered to a halt and fell to the sand, and sat up to watch the waves lap over his paws. "need to wait for blossom, here. it was — w-we were h-here, last. she - haha, she w-was — i was s-still c-carrying her w-when we were h-here last. i —" and his voice suddenly shut off, and away.
the forest where he had met the stranger (@Bonario) still called to him, still rooted him from passing this network of ugly flat rivers which stretched to the landbridge, which led to the island still.
his eyes widened. the island!
lestan tried to stand, to lurch forward another step, then fell away into a dead faint.

Two things had been unearthed as the two wolves walked. 

The first was that Blossom was a woman. The mad man had babbled about her erratically as they’d journeyed. Swordfish had listened with one ear turned away, unable to withstand the man’s grief in full, or perhaps he was merely unwilling. The weight of it seemed too great. There was already too much to carry- 

When the poor man had slumped in the sands and the water beckoned him, Swordfish stood awkwardly at his side. The bear-hunter didn’t know how to console this wretched thing. He looked down at the man and watched the waves rush against his slouched figure. 

Don’t drown. I’m going to find ya somethin’ to eat… 

A frown settled on his dark lips before he turned to hunt in the wood nearby.

when he woke, the stars were above. lestan lay and dreamed with his eyes open. his memories had been fractured neatly, all of them, as if one day they had each fallen out of his ears and landed onto cliffs far below.
he thought of the golden bird in his dreams, and his belly clenched with fear.

It took time for the bear-hunter to find adequate prey. When he had returned to the seaside and found the man, he was lost to sleep. 

Swordfish sighed, a long breath that passed through his nose before placing three rabbits on the sand beside the stranger. Plucking one for himself, the young wolf ate and watched the waves. The mad man did not stir from his slumber for hours. 

When he opened his eyes, Swordfish met his gaze and frowned. 

Eat. Two cold rabbit carcasses were nudged toward the other man.

lestan ate. he threw up into the surf twice, and pushed the rest of the rabbits aside, unhappy to decline the result of someone else's labor.
witch, murmured the wind, and lestan leaned into it, closing his eyes and seeking the breeze in the sentinel-trees.
his stomach cramped with unfulfilled hunger and malaise. "y-you don't h-have to s-stay, you k-know."

I know. 

Swordfish felt his stomach churn, smelled the sick that had been tossed from the man’s mouth. It made him ill until he turned his head to catch the scent on the trees, carried to them by the winds. 

Once, Swordfish had been distraught and alone. How could he leave this strange man in such a state? It didn’t sit right with the bear-hunter. 

Ya got a name?

"lestan."
his mouth worked as if he had tasted something bitter, something rotted to sourness. "d-don't stay b-because you p-pity m-me," came the gravelled sound of his voice. 
"i c-can't die t-till i f-find her. that's-that's it."
the screech of a gull poured over them both; he flinched and covered his head, breathing hard with his face against the sand.

The huff of air that passed through his lips might have seemed insensitive. It was not. Swordfish merely thought it humorous that Lestan would think he’d stay beside the withered form of a stranger for any reason other than pity. Besides, what did it matter the reason? 

Swordfish regarded his companion with a shrewd stare. 

Is that yer goal then? Find Blossom an’ die? 

What a tragic achievement, if true. Swordfish didn’t understand Lestan’s pain to this extent. The tragedy that had cast a dark wing over the hunter’s life had not turned him into bumbling madness. It had set him on a path of revenge. 

What happened? Ya got time to pass. Might as well spit it out, huh?

pity was destructive. it led one into bad ways, into bad goals. pity did not feed the body and it did not feed the soul. surely a skilled young hunter had more importance to pursue than the broken soul who was lestan.
he said nothing, only tried to eat again. this time the meal stayed down, so long as he pressed his hurting belly against the sand and stretched there.
in time his honeyblue eyes took in his companion. "w-we l-left together. t-there was p-pain and d-darkness. w-when i woke, she w-was gone. i d-dont know how i-i'm back here, i j-just need to f-find her. find b-blossom." 
a single tear sluiced down his thin face.
"s-she's my ... m-my daughter. and i l-lost her!"

When Lestan spoke again, he managed to offer more information than anything he’d stated before. Blossom was his daughter. 

This insanity had taken root in him after losing his daughter. 

Swordfish thought of Meerkat and felt his stomach twist uncontrollably. Could losing a child really turn someone into something so foul? The boy could hardly believe it. His heavy-lidded eyes softened on Lestan. The boy let silence leak between them. He considered the options before him before speaking again. 

Well yer not gonna find her like that are ya? Dribblin’ over yerself like a whelp. Swordfish sneered and then rose to his paws to survey their surroundings. Let’s get ya in better shape and then… 

Haunted deep sea eyes met Lestan’s gaze. 

Let’s find yer daughter.

"you don't understand! i have to stay here! she'll come back here! or she'll... or she won't! but i-i-i have to w-wait," lestan murmured once his voice had cracked back down into a hoarse mumble. "i have to be here w-when s-he gets b-back."
yet even as he stared at the sea, lestan knew he could not remain here forever. blossom would not suddenly appear on the sands. "i have been to the rivers. i have been to the forest. i have been to the bay. now i come back to the river, and now w-we s-should go t-to that island," lestan sighed, motioning to what had been sweetharbor. "and t-then i have to g-go back to ... swiftcurrent creek. my cousin is there. h-he can t-tell me where b-blossom is, surely, maybe."

Lestan insisted that he be there so that Blossom could find him. Swordfish’s brow creased with his doubt. He did not wish to highlight the ways that the girl could have met an untimely end. The face of the bear flashed in his mind and he silently hoped for Blossom’s safety, that she had merely been whisked away on an adventure and would return to her grieving father to soothe his rattled mind.

The bear-hunter looked out to the island.

When the creek was mentioned, Swordfish felt his body tighten in a rush of familiarity. He knew the creek. He had met Akavir and had trained at the side of Moss before he’d slipped away unnoticed.

Aye, the boy drawled. We can go to the island. And the creek.

Sniffing the sea air, Swordfish wondered how they might cross to the slice of land just offshore.

Creek’s far from here. We oughta… We oughta stop along the way. Spread the word of yer girl through the packs. All eyes in the Teekon would be searching for Blossom too.

"t-there's a l-landbridge. have t-to go at l-low tide," lestan explained, weaving in sandy steps as he clambered to his paws and wove toward the dark expanse of water, following one of the rivers that way.
"c-creek is f-far. not too far. n-need to work my w-way there, over the m-mountains." the idea of talking with others was not something the mayfair addressed, simply because speaking at all had been so monumental for him thus far.
the island! surely she was there! "blossom!" lestan called, his voice wavering.

Low tide, Swordfish squinted at the sea hoping he might find the bridge that connected their land to the island. If Lestan’s girl was out there, it didn’t seem like such a safe place. A wayward storm could drench the island in waves and rain. If she was alone, Blossom would not be well off. The bear-hunter didn’t even know the girl’s age.

If they were looking for a pup…

Yeah, yeah… not too far, Swordfish grunted. His russet tail waved lightly, swinging at his rear until Lestan’s voice brought it to immediate stillness. The pitiful cry for his daughter was caught on the wind and carried out to the water.

Drawing his head back, Swordfish howled for Blossom. His chest felt heavy when the only sound to return was that of the wind.

Yer aware ya can’t go to the creek and wait here, right? Lestan couldn’t be that fractured.

"yes, of course. that's why i have to do both as l-long as i c-can." he hadn't expected to hear the stranger's howl for his daughter; he glanced back along the shore with ears shock-splayed and eyes wide.
but in the next he recovered, his weak gait determined even as he left a deep trail of ragged wet sand behind him. "so we wait here by s-staying near t-this river, a-and t-that forest, and n-now, this i-island." 'staying close.' staying to hear her song.
and if it never came, then maybe he'd find an echo in the mountains. "i m-met someone i-i knew, o-once. he m-might come w-with us. b-but i don't t-think s-so. the c-creek doesn't l-like him, or rather, i d-didn't."

The explanation that was given did nothing to soothe Swordfish’s growing anxieties. He’d latched himself to a grief-stricken fool, dead set on finding a missing girl who could very well be dead and washed away in the salt water.

An’ what if Blossom is- Over there?

Swordfish tossed his snout to the southeast. Then to the west.

Or there.

Hooded eyes latched to Lestan’s face. Swordfish was trying to find reason in the scrambled remains of this man’s mind. There was no logical sense to what he suggested. Their small slice of land - between the island, the river, and the forest - was limited ground.

What if she’s gone and- and hit her head, yeah? Lost her memories ‘er somethin’. Standin’ in the sand won’t fix it. Won’t find her, neither.

The comment about their potential traveling partner was ignored. Whoever Lestan referenced wasn't with them and so they had no importance.

"n-no! no, t-that's all wrong! i - i we were here, together. we w-ere leaving this place, t-together. we were g-going — well, i d-don't remember. but we were h-here, and then t-here was this — b-bite in the side of m-my neck, and t-then we — and then we were only together for a short while after," lestan finished in a steady, dead monotone.
he searched through the swirl of broken memories, trying to sort beyond what was his own and what was theirs. and what had been blossom's own. 
"the i-island. t-then the r-river, again. t-then the forest, one m-more — one more time. t-hen the m-mountains, and the c-creek."
there. laid out by the shaking hand of an ill cartographer.

Regret began to take shape inside Swordfish. He could feel the tightening of his gut and the pricking of annoyance that had tumbled through his mind like a dark cloud. Lestan might have been crazed but he had some sanity left - enough to form a plan.

The island, the river, the forest. Then to the mountains and beyond them to the creek. While the weepy father spoke their course, Swordfish began to make plans for himself. They’d need places to stop, places where they might rest their travel worn limbs. They would need food and shelter. If they were fortunate, they might happen upon pack borders. The bear-hunter could relay information to the packs and spread the word of Blossom across the Teekons.

Let’s find this bridge then. Yer shit outta luck if yer expectin’ me to swim out there.

Swordfish eyed Lestan, waiting for the madman to produce his bridge so they could cross.

"wait. wait. t-tomorrow." lestan let a pawful of sand fall back to the drifts, then dusted his palms. "tomorrow, the island." he lay down right where he was, in the open-grain ground beside the slow rush of the sluggish river.
the faster he slept, the sooner the island would come. the mayfair shut his eyes and tried to avoid the looming talon of the golden bird that always seemed to appear the moment he wanted to sleep.

Tomorrow.

Lestan slumped down to the earth, as though sleep would carry him away on a whim. Swordfish watched him, mouth agape in surprise. They wouldn’t rest in this place, not well enough to trek across the bridge when morning came. The grounds where they stood were open to the elements and to approaching passersby.

Further back, Swordfish spotted a place near the rocks and trees that would block the wind. If he could get the poor fool to rise again, it might serve them well for a night.

C’mon, the boy grunted, shouldering Lestan’s ragged frame. Over there. Then yer good to rest.

Frustration spiked again. If he had to, Swordfish would drag Lestan by his nape.

he had almost achieved something like peace when the other hustled him back up onto weary paws. lestan blinked but allowed himself to be guided toward the lee of piled stones.
but peace did not come so easily here. he lay down, but not so quickly, and he found he could not close his eyes for a long time. lying next to the river had drowned the sea, but here the sound of the sea drowned his mind.
but he would try, and shut his eyes.

Want me to make us another? Or we can make this one long... or both? If you archive, I'll make another set for "tomorrow." That way you're not obligated to reply. *Babble babble, yadda yadda, yap yap yap.*

Though he moved, their new resting place did not seem to lull Lestan into a sense of peace. Swordfish watched the other man, waiting to see if he might slip, if he might soften the jagged edges of his crazed mind with sleep.

For some time, Lestan simply stared. Swordfish grew uncomfortable with watching his companion, so he huffed a weary sigh and rested his chin on his paws. The heavy lids of his eyes bobbed before closing.

As though he were worried that Lestan might slip into the water and drown, Swordfish pressed his shoulder against the other man before finding sleep.