Ravensblood Forest cold door handles

@Siqsa maybe ?

he's not quite certain why @Tack hasn't flown south in preparation for the cold months, but he's grateful for the bird's continued presence. if concerned. the songbird spends a lot of time buried as deep as he can get in the thick fur between cortland's shoulders lately, perhaps hiding from the cold. or maybe just from the outside world in general. he can certainly understand the desire.
occasionally he'll chuff to the bird as he travels, mostly to alert his friend to something of interest — sometimes just because he's bored or lonely, too. the strange bleeding forest he's found himself in presents a mix of reasons to get tack's attention; it's certainly interesting, and for some reason it makes him feel a little lonely. but he opts not to bother his friend. birds need sleep too, right? he halts near a tree, studying it, and is reminded of how he'd met his tiny companion. the memory brings a faint smile to his face; a rare, fleeting expression for the ghost. it feels strange. but good.

Tack had been flying around for a bit, stretching his wings while also getting a chance to look ahead. Before he had returned and then was nestled in the fur of the wolf. This wolf he had chosen as his companion. A combination of protection to the bird, and a free cleaning service for the wolf. Of course, every pairing had it's down sides.

"Fur not warm enough to this cold...Tack is cold!"

Throughout the time of him supposedly ‘healing’, the Rogue snuck off of the pack lands while @Ruenna’s back was turned. She was an extremely observant individual, and it more than likely would be noticed that he had snuck off again. But he just needed some breather room. He was tired of scarfing down bitter plants and gagging on snow. The Ntima also had to pry himself away from her because he was just embarrassed to be tended by the one he had accused of being a Spy not too long ago. Hell, as watchful as the silver was, she might have been!

Limping through the thick groves of forest, the brute ignored the fever that was coming on until it peaked again. He wouldn’t even admit to himself that snow seemed like a really good option for now - nope, wasn’t gonna day that, at all. Fuck a snow.

Instead, the true sate, the sea, looked before him. And with a wobbly lope, the young male sprang forward and threw himself into the frigid waves, appreciating being united with the water again. It seemed like he was always too hot for his own good, and needed to be here a minute. Or atleast submerged, for a while. Last he had enjoyed the opportunity to swim was when he had met-

his mind drowned the thought before it had come to lay siege on him again. He wasn’t going to say her name, no. Not even going to mention her. He knew nothing dealing with her plight, and he had been on denrest when her departure was. For once he was glad he had missed something. 

Under the gentle cold waves, the dark navy wolfdog matched his salty surroundings. Though he had to to angle himself differently to accommodate his wounded neck, he felt even those muscles loosen a bit, allowing him to return to the serpentine self he was in the waterworld

But everything needed to breathe, and he had lungs. So pulling himself up, he had come to see he was a bit further out than expected, and after inhaling again, he threw his body against the freezing  embrace, and followed the waves to shore.

a slightly wry smile curves his lips as the bird speaks, and he wants to tell him that if he's so cold then he should try being a normal bird and going south for the winter. but he can't say that, so he doesn't. maybe he wouldn't have anyway. his thoughts don't get much further before he's interrupted by the sudden arrival of another wolf. his eyes widen a little as the dripping figure enters his line of sight; why would someone go swimming now, of all times? surely the cold must be unbearable in such a state. he chuffs once, quickly and quietly to tack, and the message is clear: quiet. i've got this. then he starts to move toward the stranger, chuffing again a little more loudly this time to announce his presence.

A tarnish goldie awaited him on the shores and his heart had frozen for a moment as the soggy bastard stood stock still. Shit, was it Arana?! 

A moment had had passed before Siqsa discarded the notion. Arana typically bounded up to him, and she was thinner, more like a streak of golden lightning than this creamy blond. Also the emerald eyes were gone, replaced by a color nearly like the coat. A pretty color.
But not his sister. 

However! Every other aspect of this wolf was unknown to him, and with it being a stranger, the wolf knew a bit to be conflicted between relaxing and taking up defense. He was wounded, sick, and the effects of the sea waned from him, diminishing his strength by the seconds. As he walked further onto land, the massive wolf dog felt himself coming back into a mortal coil. This wolf however, seemed like no trouble. He was smaller, and therefore Siqsa nearly arrogantly swaggered to the male. Yet his wounds held him back, as well as the chiding from Ruenna and Kavik alike to change his ways. Or even that strange other voice who belonged to a face he couldn’t remember not remember seeing. He could change, to try and be a different being. Nice? This guy wouldn’t know left from right on who Siqsa was, and the Demon decided to attempt something new. 

“Hey,” he began. God, the tone was off, still holding some grudge of a growl at the creamy male just a meter from him. “Hey?” He asked trying to correct himself a bit and seem a bit more approachable. Was this what ‘nice’ sounded like? The voice sounded like it belonged to someone who trusted this stranger with his back turned. Anything could fucking happen! 

Shit, should he atleast keep it going? Or back off so the other guy could say hi? Or should he just introduce himself first? Maybe let the guy go first? Well he kinda greeted him back but just not like all the way but-

well he got his attention and well, 

“FUCK! This is too hard!“ he snarled the curse at the ground as a cough fought for purchase in his trunk-like chest. Neck everso more leaning to lower his crown back in its forsaken posture, he closed his blood ruby gaze to the wet sand. “How to be nice?!How do you do ‘pleasant?!“ The Dragon son was frustrated, and he did poorly to hide his emotions as of right now. He was fumbling to figure out how to even start a conversation in the way of ‘nice’ let alone try to make a ‘friend’. How could he trust this dude wouldn’t turn around and kill his ass? 

Shaking his coat out, he tried to atleast seem somewhat larger from a flung out dark navy pelt, but the act left him breathless. Almost woozy. But on shaking limbs that held power once, the 2 year old would be damned if this dude thought he could take him on without a fight.

the man approaches with exaggerated confidence despite the wounds he notes on his dark form as he draws nearer, greeting him with a half-growled hey to begin with. his ears pin back slightly, but his wary expression morphs quickly into confusion as the man seems to try again, friendlier this time. he cocks his head to one side, ears perking — only to promptly flatten once again as the man starts to snarl and curse. his first instinct is fear, but the anger doesn't seem directed at him at all. as he listens, he starts to feel a little bad for the other wolf; he's not sure he understands how anyone could struggle so hard with something as simple as being pleasant, but he wants to acknowledge the effort somehow. he lowers himself slightly, tail swishing, and creeps a couple steps forward with eyes bright and welcoming and definitely a touch concerned for the shaking in the male's limbs and his apparent delirium. his pity for the stranger blinds him to any aggression in his actions or expression; he only wants to reassure him that being nice isn't as hard as it seems.

Siqsa felt more moronic the more he tried to seem nicer. Like this shit was just silly! But despite his turmoil, the little dude before him hadn’t run off. It hadn’t pulled a Mouse Kid and excused himself before dashing away - that was a bit of positivity, right there. It was clear Siqsa had work to do, but this dude hadn’t just flew the coop just because he was trying to not launch into a fight right then and there.

The blonde crept closer, a bit more submissive than what Siqsa had initially thought was appropriate for this situation, but ironically enough it defused what little fight Siqsa could put up. So the stiffness that has gone into the thick limbs had lessened, but the brute was very tired. If this dude was just trying to make him lower his guards to kill him,

then fuck it. Dude could have him. He was too tired for this shit, and the reality of being unable to fight the world off should he need to, was closing in pretty damn quick. Could just be the depression from fever, but Siqsa didn’t put the two together. 

“Look,” he began to the somehow encouraging male. “I could be dying, for all I know. I’m just hoping you’re not the guy to make that happen today, aight? I’m chill. I mean, I’ve done a lotta stupid and bad shit, but I’m a good guy. Kinda. Or I’m tryingto be a good guy. It’s not a good fit for me,“ he rambled on and on to this dude who still didn’t know what in the hell he probably was going on about. “But I promised a few folks I was gonna try it out and see what good it did me. Could save my life one day. I mean, that’s coming from my ass, but it’s supposed to mean something in this world, I guess. I’m away from the place where it didn’t mean shit, but it’s something in these parts.”