Qeya River over the hills and far away

@Apple, backdated a few days

Today's hunting trip took him outside the bounds of the Maplewood, his path meandering up toward the small mountain range that separated the southern taiga from the true north. Slightly worn out from the exertion, Shale paused for a drink and a rest at the cold, fast-flowing river, droplets falling from his muzzle as he breathed deep, stirring the surface of the water. The coolness on his maw was the only respite from an incredibly hot day; he found himself panting more often than not, this past moon.

The pups were fine, happy and healthy, and Pema was getting back into the swing of things. Barring some tragedy, it seemed that the most anxious time had passed. This time, his story would have a happy ending. Though he had been well within his right to worry, all his anxiety had been for naught. They were alive. They were whole. It was all he could ask for.

Shale smiled, the expression stretching his lips almost painfully. He was bowled over by how well it had all gone. And while the pressure was still on him to bring home the bacon for his family, so to speak, it was easier, now. Soon, they would pretty much raise themselves. Develop personalities of their own. His past litter had been so young, all they had was their names and pelts--this would be different.

He took one last lap from the river, then stepped back and inhaled, deeply, trying to ascertain whether there was prey nearby--and if so, how close it was.

If one does not consider a little, rotund, fluffy and oldish she-wolf as a prey, then no - there was not any in the vicinity of the hunter with agouti pelt. Had there been any, they would have already scrambled and run for the hills, because, while not being particularly fast, Nanny Apple could move as a force of nature. And add the off-tune humming and occasionally sung out words and you would not have any questions of why no one was around.

She spotted the man in the distance and stopped, suddenly overcome by a memory of her first mate. Alistair had been a young and adventurous soul, very similar to the wolf in the distance. Coat in myriad shades of gray, black and white, amber colored eyes, burning with passion and dazzlingly good looks. No wonder that then almost a year young Apple Blackthorn had been swept off her feet (both figuratively and literally) and without so much as a goodbye to her parents and the rest of her family had eloped with him. 

That had been a glorious summer for the two young wolves, who were so much in love at that time, but around autumn the idyll came to an end. Alastair had had a very bad habit of talking a little too much in front of the wrong people and a need to be constantly on the adrenaline rush. While not a bad fighter, he was nowhere nearly as good enough to handle bigger guys. But being just as stubborn as he was stupid, he just kept getting in trouble. And by that time - tired of constantly taking care of his wounds, and offended by his obvious preference to fights over her, she had got up and left one day and never looked back.

Until today, when this first flame had re-entered her memory. She drew closer, realizing that this guy was totally different from her dimwitted first husband. Which was good, because he was probably dead, because someone knocking a sense into his head was not very likely. "Greetings, young man," she said, though the said man was almost as old as her. "Where do you hail on this lovely day?"

Her greeting made him laugh aloud before he even knew who it was; no one had called him "young man" in quite a long time. He was aged on his best day, and now, with the famine, his bony frame made him look one or two years older than that. Grinning, Shale turned around to face a cream-pelted woman, her dark eyes glittering like pebbles under the surface of a fast-flowing stream.

"Hello, miss," he responded, the cheeky emphasis on the second word impossible to, well, miss. "Just out for a hunt," he added, as if it were a casual stroll in the woods. "What about yourself? I've not seen you around here before."

Okay, so he hadn't been the most observant wolf lately, being either tied to the den or hunting down prey. Chances were, they had crossed paths and he simply hadn't noticed. That wasn't, however, anything that needed to be brought up in a polite conversation. Especially not with a pretty young woman like this.

Apple had been once young and beautiful, now she was just beautiful - as all old people are. The "youth" in question treated her with the same level of cheekiness and she grinned in response, sensing that she just might have found a kindred spirit in a total stranger. And she did not mind "miss" - four mates later she had still insisted on keeping her maiden name and passing it on to all of her offspring. 

"Sure you haven't - if you had, you would not have forgotten me so easily. I leave mark, wherever I go," Apple responded with a grin. "Can you say the same about yourself?"

His eyes crinkled in more laughter. She was right--the woman was memorable, with that pale coat of hers. As for himself-- "Look at me," Shale responded, smirking. "I'm as gray as a stone, and with about as much personality as one, too. Not nearly as memorable as you, miss." He liked her--her company was pleasant and enjoyable. A nice break from the stresses of life.

"I'm Shale," he offered. He might as well give her a name, if he was going to stick around for a little while. "Who might you be?" Her name must be something very elegant, he supposed. Nothing less would do. But what was a matron like this doing out by herself, with no pack-scent to speak of?

"A stone. Rock solid," Apple mused and it was evident that gears in her mind were turning, while she tried to put him in the right category of her acquaintances. 

"Well, I will remember. I have a very good memory," she said finally. And that was true - if she decided that a stranger met along the way could become useful in the future, she would take the memory of their face to the grave. 

"Apple Blackthorn," she introduced herself. "But Nanny Apple for the rest of the world. Are you from around here?"

"I believe you," Shale said, meaning it. This was no doddering old wolf; she was sharp as a fang, still, and witty, too. No doubt she had the kind of mind that remembered every stranger she came across. Alas, Shale hadn't been blessed with that talent, though he tried to bluff his way through it. His smile grew wider as she gave him her name. "Apple. Pretty."

He inclined his head the way he came, toward the plains (though not visible, from this distance). "Morningside," he said, looking back at her. "My family's pack, out on the plains." His family's pack, indeed. He had never felt that way, really, until the pups came along. Sure, Dawn and Sunny were there, as well as his myriad nieces and nephews, but it really had been Grayday that kept him around.

But Grayday was gone, now, and his children were there. It had changed for him, if only slightly.

"You?" he inquired, pushing those existential thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Morningside sounds like a kingdom I would like to live in," Apple remarked, tasting the name of Shale's pack. But she was in no hurry to join a pack yet - after all she had just left one together with all of the responsibilities, hard work and woes that came with it, and she was enjoying her holidays thoroughly. Winter might change things for her, but she was treading her way with the knowledge that everything would work out. It always had, and Nanny Apple would not let it be any other way. 

"Well, my home is wherever Blackthorns live. Can't speak much about my nieces and nephews, and siblings for that matter, but I have plenty of children and grand-grands that know me," she explained. In a way, she was the nice, little spider that was sitting comfortably in the middle of her well-woven net, where all of her vast family members were included. That's why her confidence that things would never go amiss. There were at least half a hundred or so Blackthorns linked directly to her around.

"Forgive an old hag for prying - but are you a claimed man or free one?" she asked with a charming smile.

He had never really thought of Morningside as a kingdom, but the word had some charm. Whatever it was, it was home. His first home in a very long time. It was flattery, on her part, he knew--but he felt much the same way. It was a warm place, a safe place. Everything he cared about was on those plains. Maybe she would join them, too.

Blackthorns. Her family sounded interesting, too. He was just about to pry into her history when she asked him a question, and if wolves could blush. . .he'd be crimson. Instead, Shale ducked his head, smiling demurely. God, what was he, a yearling again? "I'm all tied up, miss, sorry to say," he responded ruefully, glancing up at her. "Got four kids at home, myself.

"Speaking of which," he segued, looking past her and in the direction of the borders, "I should probably be off to see them. It was very nice to meet you, Apple. Come visit us, sometime. I'll give you a tour." He gave her a charming grin, waiting for her to respond in turn before heading back home.

sorry for dipping out abruptly--just trying to kill this guy!