Northstar Vale not an answer to be heard

AW but maybe a diaspora wolf?

He's become rather thin these last few weeks, taken by some sort of depression as winter's claws sink further into the land. His typically brilliant silver coat is scraggly and perhaps not the cleanest it has ever been, and his legs and pads are riddled with small cuts and scrapes, many beginning to fester with infection. The young Corten has certainly seen better days than this, and predictably his mood has grown as sour as his condition. It isn't fair, he often thinks at the end of the day, when his pads ache and sting and his stomach protests painfully. It isn't fair that he suffers, he who has only ever tried to be good and kind and has only ever been cast aside; he deserves better.
It is this anger that surfaces with a fierce toss of its ugly head when a sharp pain cuts through him midway through a rare meal and he realizes he can eat no more, surging through him suddenly and hotly. He exhales sharply, jaws tightening into the rabbit he'd worked so hard to obtain and reaching for some semblance of patience; the calm only lasts a moment. It's not fair, he thinks in fire and hot sticky copper, slamming the cooling carcass into the snowy earth with an irritable toss of his head. Blood splatters and bits of gory snow fly in opposite directions as he repeats the action, fighting the urge to vomit what little he's managed to swallow. The rabbit is unrecognizable when he finally tires of beating the poor dead thing to a pulp, a bloody mass with only a few identifying patches of white among the gore and bone. He doesn't regret it; he can't eat the stupid thing anyway. His stomach still hurts.

Taki moved through the snow-covered valley, studying the land so that she could know every inch of it. The snow and the cold here was nothing like the glacier, and so she roamed though it with relative ease, white puffs of air leaving her lips with every exhale. The scent of a stranger made her tense, and she stopped her task to scan the area. Her fiery gaze found the young wolf repeatedly slamming a rabbit into the ground, blood and body parts splattered around, vibrant against the white snow. She watched him for a few seconds, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. 

She trotted in his direction, stopping a few feet from him, tail raised and confident gaze scanning his form and the gore around him. It is not smart to waste food in the winter, she rebuked, her expression disapproving. He looked like he could use the meal too, and upon further inspection of his scent, she noted hints of infection. So he was skinny and injured, and he was here wasting his food like he had plenty to go around. Already, she deduced that he probably wasn't too bright, but he was still just a kid, which was why she even initiated conversation rather than leaving him to his self-destructive behavior.

He'd been so caught up in venting his aggressions on the rabbit, he hadn't even noticed the other wolf's approach. Her words startle him and he drops the bloodied mess of a carcass with a huff and a glare, hackles prickling. Why's it matter to you? He demands, immediately defensive. He knows she's right, of course, but that only fuels his irritation. It's not fair, he finds himself thinking again; this woman has no right to judge him. She doesn't know the first thing about him. I can't eat it anyway. He adds, still feeling some need to justify himself despite his anger. As much as he wants to tell himself he doesn't care what a stranger thinks, he can't stand the idea of being seen as stupid.

Taki studied the boy, deciding to ignore his first question because she honestly wasn't sure how to answer it. She didn't bristle at his defensive tone, but continued to watch him as he explained that he wasn't able to eat. Her brows drew together in confusion. What do you mean you can't eat, she asked, her tone far more even now. Something about the skinny juvenile seemed off--like there was more to the story that she wasn't privy to. She took a tentative step forward, sniffing the air once more. Are you injured? Taki asked next. She couldn't see any obvious wounds from where she was, but the smell of infection was distinct and it was definitely mixed in with his own scent.

Her movement startles him, and he takes an abrupt step back as she moves forward, ears pinning to his skull. He bristles slightly, gaze averting, and he's quiet for several moments. He can't begin to understand why she insists on probing. Whatever, he thinks, I don't have any exciting answers anyway. It hurts, Winterbourne mumbles, then a little louder: When I eat. He sucks in a breath, throat tightening a little as he looks down at his legs to consider the answer to her second question. He hadn't realized how much they itch and sting. My legs are just... scraped. He says, as if that might somehow erase the festering cuts scattered over his limbs. If he doesn't talk about them, they don't exist, right?

Her step forward scared the young wolf, so she paused, eyebrows drawing together as she watched him. He finally spoke again, but she couldn't quite make out his words. When he continued, it was a with more volume and clarity, but without the context of what he said first, it didn't really clear things up. He then explained that his legs were scraped, which explained the reason for the sickly scent intertwined with his own. She found herself wanting to help him--children were a soft spot for her. He may be almost at his adult size, but the signs of youth still painted his features and temperament, and she couldn't help but feel for him. Not wanting to alarm him again, Taki slowly took a seat. What prevents you from eating? she asked again, seeking more clarification. She knew only enough healing to provide basic first aid--a requirement of all her father's soldiers--so she wasn't sure how much help she could be other than offering him a place to heal and grow into something useful, but she still needed to know the extent of his ailments. The scrapes she could most likely address later if he would let her.

Irritation flashes through him when she seems to repeat her question, though he realizes a beat later that he must have spoken too quietly. The embarrassment brings his guard down slightly, at least, and his next words are slightly less guarded. It um, makes my stomach hurt, He says, feeling awkward as he repeats his answer. He's never really gone hungry before this, so he doesn't have the experience to know that such pain is to be expected — or that scarfing his meals down won't help a bit. As far as he's concerned, something is wrong with his stomach or with the food — or both, maybe.

Concern drew her eyebrows together a little at his admission. When was the last time you actually ate? she asked. He appeared to have gone a while without food, and she wondered if that had something to do with his issue-- or maybe he was so skinny because of whatever ailed him, either way, she still wanted to help if she could. She honestly wasn't even sure how to help other than to offer a safe place and food to eat, but maybe that was all he needed. She thought some tending of his wounds ought to help things as well. Silently, she waited for his answer, needing some more information as always and hoping he would soon trust her enough to accept an offer of a home should she extend it.

She continues to question him, and again he wonders about her purpose; it makes no sense to him that a stranger would care at all what plagues him. He doesn't quite trust it. His experiences with strangers have only ever led him to believe that most would do him harm, given the chance. It hardly matters what mask they might wear. Still, he pauses a moment to contemplate an answer for her, delving into his recent memory and coming up with only fuzzy recollections. Uh... awhile ago? He says, uncertainty bringing a questioning edge to his tone. I think. The memories of each cold, hungry night he has suffered recently suddenly flood him, and for the first time in what feels like a long time he finds himself missing home, his mother, Aditya. He wishes he could go back — but he never will.

A while ago? Not a very specific answer, but whatever; it was apparently long enough. She studied him yet again, unsure where to go from here. She wanted to ask about his family and his pack--what had happened to them to put him in this position, but her own recent events stopped the words before they formed. She would not have anything nice to say if some stranger asked about her family, so she would not cause the boy anymore suffering. Do you need a place to stay? she finally asked. She didn't know what else to do other than to offer what he clearly didn't have. If he accepted, they could help make him strong again, and then he would be an asset to the pack. Unless he took off, in which case he was too weak to be there in the first place, and she would let him go to his fate.

He's starting to feel strangely vulnerable, and he finds he's not very fond of the feeling. Each time he has allowed himself the luxury of vulnerability, he has regretted it, and he's certain this time will be no different. Yet her words still catch him off-guard, and hope sparks in his chest before he can stop it. Yeah, I — He starts, cutting himself off a moment later and forcing the eagerness from his tone and expression. I-I mean — like where? He means to sound guarded, but his voice still betrays him; there's no chance he'll turn down the offer of a home — assuming that's what this is, and this stranger is what she seems.

His first, partial response seemed almost enthusiastic, but he then seemed to switched gears with his following question, appearing more hesitant than before. My pack claims these mountains, she explained. Join us, and I'll help make you strong again--teach you how to be a soldier, she offered next. She wasn't sure he would accept, but she saw something there--some flicker of fire that she felt like she could stoke if he'd let her. She looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly as she waited for his answer. It was not an offer she would extend to most, but in the wake of losing her entire family, she supposed she was feeling more generous than usual. Plus, it had always been awfully hard for her to resist a young wolf in need.