Ankyra Sound One wing will never fly

Taking place closer to the Dragoncrest Cliffs than Ankyra Sound. Tagging @Caiaphas

What's one to do when one is a widower?

It was a question that Tweed had found himself mulling over in his head ever since his mate's untimely and premature death at the height of winter. Some had said time had a way in healing all wounds, emotional or otherwise -- Tweed, however, would unabashedly call bullshit. Some time had passed, yet, the wounds left behind still felt like a twisting knife. When he closed his eyes, he still saw her face as clear as day. Her features did not fade from memory. Tweed could not decided wether this was a blessing or a curse.  

His pack, Wendigo Falls, had been tightly familial: Tweed's role at its helm had been his inheritance as first born. A homebody at heart, Tweed had lived there for his entire life, opting only to leave when duly necessary. Of course, he had all he needed at home. There was prey to be found... and there he found love. Perhaps that is why he felt the need to abandon his post without a word of warning. The sentimental attachment he held with the territory became far too much to bear in his loss. 

And so, he traveled.

His paws carried him to the southwest. With no intention of destination, Hugo's paws took the lead and he put himself on autopilot. He stopped his forward progression only to stop and sleep -- sometimes to eat. Wether it was his grief or the lack of food (or a combination of both) that had cause him to lose weight, Hugo didn't care: his mind was set on one simple goal -- moving forward, both in a metaphorical and physical sense.

For the first time in weeks, Hugo stopped for a reason other than biological need. Facing the edge of a cliff, Tweed felt as if he had reached the end of the world (and in his mind, he had). The sea sprawled out in infinite expanse before him. He dropped to his haunches and sighed, perching himself on the cliff face facing outward. What now? 

Rayen had found herself making true of the words she had spoken, the contributions she could make to the pack. She hunted most of her days, catching the hard shelled crabs and other mollusks along the seashore. She managed to raid a few bird nests that belonged to the gulls along the cliffs and even catch a few fish. She was not used to catching the seafare prey but she was adjusting quickly.

The morning found her patrolling Saltwinter's borders, stopping occasionally to roll in a certain spot or mark it on some way so that its scent would be stronger. It was a lovely day, at least in Rayen's opinion, the wind was blowing strongly and the sky was overcast. She liked this kind of weather better than any other, the impending rain and gloom. She was peculiar that way.

With the wind came the scent of male, an unknown male. Her ears perked alertly as she picked up the pace in his direction. She came to find a larger wolf than she, a golden agouti colored male with odd,curved black markings alongside his eyes. He was laying at the edge of the cliff precariously, looking quite blue. 

She stopped inside the border cautiously, wondering what he was doing. Did he even know he was so close to their pack? She cleared her throat shyly to get his attention,"Excuse me for bothering you, but what are you doing?" Her head cocked to the side curiously as she watched him, wondering what had him so sad. "You're very close to our pack, Saltwinter. Is that intentional because I can call for my Alpha?"

After her encounter with the mountain woman, Rosalyn had drifted back home. Home was a rather relative term really, but it was the place where she always ended up when there was nowhere else to go.  Vlad had been her biggest attachment to this place but was now gone.  She wandered farther afield and was removed mostly from pack affairs, though on this return she became aware of at least one new scent she had not before encountered.

Mildly curious, she had determined to perhaps seek out the source.  She didn't have Vlad's easy nature but that didn't mean she was a complete social pariah.  She'd considered at one time throwing herself into the task of wining and dining her packmates and, finding the energy to do so seriously lacking, abandoned the notion for a slower and more indifferent approach.  She assumed (perhaps incorrectly) that all in the pack were as scattered a bunch as the original founders.

A walk along the shore granted a chance.  She was hoping to scrounge a bird or two from near the cliffs and instead ended up with a couple of strangers instead.  Her eyes narrowed as she watched, stopped a way back from Rayen on the coastline.  One was a dark female (almost similar in appearance to herself, a fact she quickly dismissed) and the other male, middling size and sorry looking.  No aggression yet, which was good.  She'd beeline out of there right quick if that were the case. 

She was too far away to hear any initial greetings and hardly shy about interrupting.  "If you're lookin to off yourself, there's kinder ways than jumping."  She said as she approached, eyeing Rayen as she did so.  Now that she was near she could scent her; new blood of the fold.  Hmm.

Inching forward on his belly, Hugo crawled toward the cliff-face until his forepaws hung just over the edge. There, he let them dangle into oblivion. Looking down, he could see the waves mercilessly breaking into the rocks -- one after the other in a choppy, unpredictable rhythm. The thought of those same waves crashing over him briefly crossed his mind. Of course, he would be a liar if he said he hadn't considered taking his own life. The call of the void was strong, and though Hugo was no man of faith, the thought of joining his dear Annabelle in the throes of death was a strange comfort.

Something, however, unknown to Tweed, kept him from making both the proverbial and literal leap of faith one such action would require. He was a man of old fashioned belief. Suicide was the cowards way... but even still, he entertained the thought.

Hearing a voice, Hugo turned his head toward the approaching wolf. What was he doing? It was a good question to ask: one that Hugo had no clear answer to. He bit his lip and simply shrugged in response. The question as to wether she should call the alpha or not, Hugo did have an answer. "Yeah, whatever. Your call." A change in scenery was exactly what he felt like he needed. Perhaps calling the alpha of this Saltwinter pack would provide the proper avenue to do just that.

Before having the time to return his gaze to the crashing waves, the unfamiliar pair of wolves were quickly joined by yet another stranger. This one, however, was much more blunt and could obviously read Hugo like an open book. "If I were going to kill myself, I would have already done it," he replied, voice nonchalant as if the whole ordeal was no big deal.

throwing phas in but skip her if she is holding things up - just assume she isn't here yet

caiaphas had always been mindful of the cliffs above ankyra sound - after all, she had thrown a wolf from them once. later, she had encountered a male, ill-fated and incapable of leadership (or so she thought) who had attempted to settle his hapless gang at her doorstep. as providence had it, the cliffs proved too hostile for takeover, and he had left for steadier seas.

she was reminded of her encounter with the male when she came upon the scent of not one, but two saltwinter wolves. both bid for the same direction -- curious but unhurried, she trailed after them at a steady trot.

She had tried to be polite but this guy didn't seem to care. Rayen only raised a brow, "Gee, don't sound too thrilled or anything." She figured she might as well howl for Caiaphas and just as she was about to do so Rosalyn appeared. 

She dipped her head in greeting respectfully to her pack mate, knowing she had to be higher in rank than Rayen. Her ears perked as she listened to their conversation, finally understanding what he had been up to. She hid her grimace, suicide was the cowards way where she came from. Only those of great shame would do such a thing. Most aimed for a warrior's death in the battlefield. 

She kept her opinions to herself, keeping her mouth shut wisely. She shuffled back some, deciding to let Ros handle it as she seemed to click better with this male.

"Mhmm."  It'd mostly been an inappropriate joke, but it wasn't such a huge leap to take when one sees a morose looking fellow on a cliff.  Her new friend in their merry band shuffled back a bit, making Roz wonder what exactly she'd stumbled into here, but she didn't miss a beat for it.  It's only awkward if you make it awkward.

This guy was a real winner, though, wasn't he?  His forwardness delighted her.  "If you change your mind, let me know.  I'm always down to do a solid for a friend."  She winked grandly, only half kidding.  When it came to such moral dilemmas Rosalyn tended to ride the side of 'big boys can make their own decisions'.  "So, what's your deal, handsome?  Someone steal your favorite chewbone?"

Don't sound too thrilled? Meh. Hugo scoffed inwardly at the first wolf's reply. He hadn't felt thrilled in ages, and with the memory and loss of Annabelle still swirling in Hugo's head, he was unsure if he'd ever feel so again. After so long, it became difficult to feel any profound feeling other than grief: and when Hugo wasn't grieving, he was numb. Something he said must have been off-putting the first wolf, seeing as she backed away, but the bereaved wolf didn't much care. What she thought of him was merely inconsequential.

The other, the red one, she played along. Her quip about assisted suicide brought a rare, thin smile to Hugo's face, but it quickly faltered. "I'll keep that in mind, Red. I could always use a favor." Even if that favor meant pushing him off a cliff.  

Perhaps there was a time when Hugo would have found her charming. He had once been a vain boy, but now her handsome compliment simply slid off his back. The way she had winked at him also caught his attention, however, Hugo did not return her playful gesture. He shifted his gaze back to the water breaking against the cliffside. Resting his head on his forepaws, Hugo spoke. "I lost someone special to me," he said.

She felt a small stab of pity for the male but it didn't longer long. Everyone had lost someone at one point or another, Rayen amongst them. If he was bereaved enough over the loss of someone he had lost perhaps she should have let him dive from the cliff.

She continued to stay quiet, letting the two talk and wondering if she could slip away from the situation. Rayen was not good at comfort-settling for a pat on the shoulder and a there, there. 

ahead she could hear the dull murmur of conversation, and as she broke from the overhanging briars she saw not one, but two pack members -- and a strange wolf. her gaze immediately fastened on the stranger, a muted-phase agouti whose drab coloring seemed to match his current demeanor. she hadn't caught the entire of the conversation, but she didn't need to -- she could gauge from her comrades there was some sort of levity to the discussion. as she pulled next to rayen she spoke to the two saltwinter wolves: "what's he doing here?"

fudgecicles D:

Poor thing, she thought somewhat passively, though she did feel a flicker of empathy in her gut.  To lose someone special was hardly the worst thing that could happen to a wolf (in her opinion), but it was no walk in the park either.  Especially for those who hadn't yet learned to avoid that sort of situation.

Caiaphas entered in time to save them all from Rosalyn likely putting her paw firmly in her mouth, though she wasn't quite going to be off the hook.  "Wallowing, it seems," she said with a small shrug, before turning back.  "Unless there's something you wanted from us, sunshine?"  He was, after all, right on their doorstep.

archiving!

she would have come closer, but the wolf had left. with her attention sufficiently lost and having no amount of interest in interacting with the prickly rosalyn, caiaphas made a gesture to leave. rayen was afforded the barest of smiles (for caiaphas did recognize her initiative) but without another word the sylph had slipped off back to the strand.