The Bracken Woods the lost & broken

Any and all welcome. If no reply after awhile I'll make this a read only for reference.

 

They were gone. 

One by one, they were gone. 

First it was the new woman, which he knew little of. Then his golden Major, whom he searched for endlessly. Then, the little fluttering golden Holly. 'Sister' in arms, but not blood, though they were far different in their own ways despite their similar colors. 

Hemlocke would cry, night after night. His sorrowful song in a howl filled with pain, yearning and loss. Alone, night after night, the rather grim reaper stalked, comforted by the night and night alone. 

Hemlocke kept telling himself there was nothing and none left for him here in this vast, bracken wood. Kept telling himself to move on, that if they came back he would return to them. But a month passed... then another. And Hemlocke was still alone, lost in his own mind.

Chai found herself astray again. Away from Whitebark Stream. Why she continued to slip away for extended periods of time was something she didn't understand. It could be any number of things. Maybe it had to do with the death of those two wolves, parents to young children. Children who now, would grow up never knowing their real mother and father. She felt detached, awkward. Like her head was in a constant fog and she couldn't focus. Often her thoughts drifted to Reiko and how she was doing. Surely, she had given birth by now. Chai contemplated turning to pay the Empire a visit but decided against it. It would be too early, still.

By the time she reached the forest, the likes of which she had never visited before, she was tired. Her glacial eyes lifted to peer up through the canopy of trees. Night had long since fallen, and she had no idea how late it actually was. She stepped forward, a sharp thorn grazing through the fine hairs of her paw, just shy of the pad. A reminder of how unfamiliar she was with this place. Poking around at night, trying to catch a late snack, was out of the question. Delicately she pressed on, in search of a suitable place to hunker down.

It was easy enough to find her. Alas, being alone for months on end meant Hemlocke only had time on his paws. At nights, he would hunt for food first, enough to satisfy himself and himself alone. Then, he would search for herbs and flowers, digging and taking them from the roots to bring back to the herbal garden he had founded. He was quite the little gardener. 

Alone here savor the prey animals (including to large herds on opposite ends of the forest he was unable to hunt alone and so had become not seen as a threat by them) Hemlocke had grown accustomed to the sounds of this forest. It was seldom there was visitors on these far reaches of the Teekon Wilds. 

When he heard Chai's movements, following curiously only to soon pick up on her scent, he didnt quite believe his own senses to be true. The stark black, thin man (even more so now) approached slowly, cautiously. He then spotted the woman, colored in cinnamon, cream and honey. He stares, dumbfounded. Though it was he who looked to be the red-eyed shadow, it was she who he questioned if was even real.

Unaware that she was not alone in this forest, haunted by a phantom like being, she resumed her search. Her eyes struggled to make out the various shapes around her, able to pick out only their faint outline. She was hardly an adapted creature of the night. Her efforts paid off, leading her to a tree, the base of which split open into a cozy little hollow. Tentatively lowering her muzzle for an investigative sniff, she double checked that it was un-occupied. Sensing no threat, she inched forward, squeezing her near petite frame within the shallow opening for a snug fit.

Only when she turned around to face the looming forest outside, just tucking her legs under her body, did movement catch her eye. A shape of a wolf. Or at least that's what she thought it was. The ears were far too tall, too narrow. His body so oddly streamlined. And those eyes. Those blood red eyes. She swallowed thickly, transfixed, looking very much like a doe caught in the headlights. Growing nervous, she shrunk back delicately, tucking her head down low, wide blue eyes ever glued to him.

The shadow watched ever curiously as she found herself a little hollow under a large tree which to rest within. Once turned and settled, she would stare out into the night to notice luminating red night eyes staring back at her. She shrunk back, nervous, and now noticed by her he did just the same. His tall figured lowered with the bending of legs of stilts. His barrelled chest heaved with a heavy breath of sudden start by being caught peeping. Tail moving to tuck just slight between his legs as devilishly pointed ears fell, he found himself taking a few steps back and away. 

The shadow was just that - a shadow. Every bit of a lost soul plagued to wander this forest night after night for his lost comrades.  He longed ever so for affection, though the idea of typical introduction and small talk left him uneasy. He would never be the pack wolf he longed to be if he kept acting like this...

Frozen in place, low to the ground with one cream paw lifted, Chai hadn't expected the Shadow to react in a nature similar to her own. Seeing those devilish ears falling, spindly tail tucking, her features grew softer, were that even possible. Clearly, despite his otherworldly looks, he didn't mean her any harm. Something pulled at her heart. Was it pity? No, that wasn't quite right. Yet whatever it was, it was enough to compel her forward, just out of hiding.

Taking one cautious, delicate step at a time, the ember girl emerged, slinking closer. The picture of the nervous creature she had been seconds ago, ready to flee at the drop of a pin, slowly evolved into a timid curiosity that might surpass his own. "What are..." She blinked, clearing her thoughts. Let's start again. "...Who are you?" She asked, her shy voice just a whisper.

She softened before him. Her expression changing from fear to concern. A concern which caused her to slowly emerge from the little hollow which she had only just settled within. She moves slowly, low and cautious. He takes a step back, an instinctual step which he had done time and time again. Though this time he does not think the little honey and cinnamon woman wishes to do him harm or so he truly hoped. 

It was curiosity which killed the cat yet lucky for him he was dog, or half so, unknowingly to himself. He stood, his legs rigid, stiff. It were as though he tried his best to plant himself firmly in place should his pessimism get the better of him and he flutters away from her. H-Hemlocke.. He stammers, his voice a hushed tone as her own. As for what he was? Well, he really didnt know. Having what was presumed to be a wicked witch for a mother, one could only tell.