Lake Rodney Sugar in the creek

Open for anyone who'd like a quick writing session!

Rather than turn and go back to the smaller lake the duo had passed to rid themselves of the following cat, Crowfeather had kept to the woods until the sun was high overhead. 

When he had emerged on the edge of the weald and shore of the lakeside, the dark wolf felt a rush of pride. He had found his way through to their original landmark. Germanicus should be pleased to know that he could guide them back to where Redhawk Caldera would be. From there, they need only to visit Brecheliant. 

Approaching the water, Crowfeather stopped to drink. His dark fur coat warmed immediately at the touch of the sunlight.

The back to back confrontations with Fennec and Reyes had taken a lot out of her. She felt like shit in every possible way, including physically. Nevertheless, she dragged herself to the borders to do a patrol. Towhee paced herself slower than usual, trying to ignore what felt like acid eating a hole in her stomach. Her head pounded too, the constant pain at least helping her keep it clear of all the dark thoughts that wanted to well up like poison.

On the southernmost leg of her journey, she saw a dark figure beside the lake. For an instant, Towhee thought it might be Phox. But as she stopped and stared, she realized the body type wasn't right. It wasn't anybody she knew. She drew in a breath and thought about confronting him, only to make a leery face at the stretch of ground between them, as if searching for snakes waiting to ambush her.

The dark Crowfeather was unaware of the peering eyes that had discovered him. The slight figure was attempting to prepare himself for the leap from the edge and into the deep of the lake water. The voice of Germanicus felt so far from him when he ventured on his own.

The older man’s comfort did not reach him there either.

A deep sigh was issued from the wolf’s narrow snout. Crowfeather turned himself back to the shore and sloshed until he was not further than elbow-deep in the water. There, he thought he caught a glimpse of glittering eyes in the brush.

Hello…? quavered his voice.

There was no sign of any snakes anywhere, though Towhee wasn't reassured. She hadn't seen the one that had bitten her, either. Biting her lip, her eyes flicked up and she noticed the wolf looking in her direction. She couldn't hear his question, nor read his lips from this distance, though she could make out the inquisitive look on his unfamiliar face.

"Hey, uh..." Towhee called a bit awkwardly, making a meaningless gesture with a foreleg. "Would you mind coming over here?" Her skin prickled at her own sense of weakness. Was she really so afraid, she'd never set foot outside her own borders again? Would this stranger realize her hesitation, take advantage of it?

Upon hearing her words, the dark figure shrunk slightly. Crowfeather did not wonder if she was ill, only that she might have been seeking to lure him into the brush and take him down. Germanicus would have thought the concept silly and so Crowfeather steeled himself and tiptoed toward the woman in the shade. 

Oh, you smell like the Redhawk Caldera, the slight figure whispered to her when he had drawn closer. The dark wolf’s snout was lowered toward the ground, respectful and unassuming. The pale yellow of his eyes searched her features in wonder. 

We met Ruenna. In hopes that this would clarify how he knew of their pack.

He obliged her. Towhee stiffened even as he did her bidding, orange eyes watchful. There was nothing worrisome about his approach, his demeanor quite abiding. She relaxed slightly when he came to a stop a few yards away, her eyes combing from head to toe but quickly flicking to his mouth when she saw his lips moving.

"—the Redhawk Caldera. We met Ruenna."

For a beat, she just stared. Who was "we"? Then she vaguely remembered her Regent mentioning something in passing, a bit about two wolves loitering in the area. That was Towhee's word ("loitering"), not Rue's. The Redfern really balanced out, even complemented, the Redhawk in a lot of ways. She had been a good candidate for Regent, unlike Fennec.

Nipping that thought in the bud, Towhee focused on the stranger before her and said, "I'm Towhee." Her eyes squinted a little. "Remind me of your name and business in the area?"

The woman’s introduction had garnered a gasp from the dark figure.

At once, Crowfeather bent his torso into a fitting bow. He remembered the name and the title for their foreignness had been confusing to him, and he had rather admired how easily Germanicus had repeated them.

You are the Sovereign, the seer breathed. His eyes averted and he tucked his tail until he could feel it brush against his belly. When he had held his ground for several seconds too long, the narrow wolf looked back to her with a sense of wonder.

I am Crowfeather. I travel with my- he paused and shook his head, with Germanicus, a good man. We are in this area and will be aiding Brecheliant upon Ruenna’s request. Was that enough? Had he answered adequately?

The rigidity returned to her body when he moved, only to dip into a bow. Towhee didn't hear his gasped revelation, nor manage to catch his words, though she could connect the dots. She waited for him to rise from his curtsy, which took several beats longer than she expected. She might've laughed, if she didn't feel so poorly.

Soon enough, he looked up again and she was able to read his lips as he gave his name, as well as that of his companion. If Rue had mentioned their plans, Towhee didn't recollect, so this business with Brecheliant was news to her. She was sort of curious, though not quite enough to ask.

"There's no need for all the bowing and stuff," she let him know, "and you can look at me when you talk. It's actually preferred. I'm deaf, so I read lips."

She gave him a moment to process that, then suddenly wondered why she'd bothered flagging him down and making him walk over this way. Towhee didn't really like mingling with strangers, nor was she one for small talk. She remembered she'd thought of confronting him before being held back by her own fear. She swallowed a sigh, then decided, What the hell? She could go for a distraction.

"So, what's this business with Brecheliant?"

Deaf, Crowfeather repeated with wide eyes and a tone of surprise she would not hear.

I had a friend who was deaf! Mothwing. She taught me how to heal… some small things. She- he was blabbering and he realized that this leader of the Redhawk Caldera would not care about his friend Mothwing, her inability to hear, or her untimely death.

Shaking his head, the dark seer flattened his ears to his skull in an apologetic show.

The Sovereign wanted to know what business he and Germanicus had with Brecheliant. Nervousness caused his nimble frame to quake under her gaze. Crowfeather did what he could to keep her eye contact.

We offered to aid the Redhawk Caldera, but Ruenna stated that they did not need assistance and that our offer could be made to the ally group called Brecheliant, in the fen to the south, he informed her and nodded once.

In her more than four years of life, Towhee couldn't remember anyone ever responding to her deafness this way: by sharing knowledge of another individual who was hard of hearing. She met this information with a blink, the tip of her tongue pressing against the backs of her teeth. She had questions, though almost as soon as Crowfeather brought up his acquaintance, he cut himself off with a shake of his head.

She opened her mouth to say something but clapped it shut when he went on to answer her earlier question. Towhee vaguely registered the words. She couldn't imagine why any pack would need the assistance of a pair of loners, though she didn't bother questioning it. She was still more interested in this Mothwing.

"Did she know ptero?" Towhee wondered, then realized that was probably a very stupid question. Not only was that term colloquial, the language itself was a local, organic creation. Of course she wouldn't know it. "Did she speak a sign language, I mean?" she pressed, still curious how other deaf wolves functioned in day to day life.

Her mind flicked to Nightjar, the older brother she hadn't seen in years. He had only been deaf in one ear, though Towhee remembered striking up an immediate sense of camaraderie over their shared condition. (To this day, Towhee did not know that Meerkat was similarly deaf in one ear, or she would've thought of her too.) She felt a vague stirring of kinship with this faceless Mothwing, and Crowfeather by proxy.

The dark wolf was surprised when the Sovereign continued to inquire about Mothwing. Not that he did not wish to speak of his closest friend, only that there was another soul who seemed to care about her. Crowfeather still grieved the loss of the girl and her unbelievable talent.

I do not think ptero is what she did, he answered carefully, clear to show the leader of Redhawk Caldera his face as he spoke. Old habits that had been forgotten.

But she learned how to make noises, growls and things. Mothwing learned how to be very expressive. She would growl and whimper, use her body to talk, the dark young wolf answered. Crowfeather felt the loss of her overtake him and breathed a shaky sigh.

When his pale-yellow eyes searched the Sovereign’s features, he wished that he could tell Mothwing about her. A leader of a pack, one who had made allies… her deafness had not deterred her ability to grow strong.

Our people used dreams, as well, he confessed suddenly, Mothwing was a skilled healer and her trade was closely tied to the seers. They were a pair in my home pack. Translators of the stars and the fates.

The corner of her mouth twitched upward as he spoke of Mothwing's methods, which included exaggerated body language. Ptero incorporated the same, along with signaling emphasized by the forepaws. Facial expressions and mouthing were also key parts of the vernacular.

Speaking of such, Towhee didn't fail to notice the sigh, despite being unable to hear it. She thought she detected a certain melancholy in Crowfeather's eyes. Maybe she was projecting—she felt quite lugubrious at times, lately, after a particularly tough year—but she suspected she wasn't.

He went on to mention dreams and seers, things which Towhee didn't particularly believe. Despite herself, she was curious enough to ask, "How did they use dreams?" And then, after a slight hesitation, she added, "Where is Mothwing now?"

The Sovereign’s question was one that he had anticipated before it was asked. The leader of the Redhawk Caldera was not accustomed to the ways of the Starsea.

Mothwing would provide herbs. You would eat the herbs and sleep beneath the moonstone together to share dreams. I could speak to Mothwing perfectly in dreams. Her voice was… beautiful, the dark wolf answered fondly.

When asked where Mothwing was, Crowfeather looked away. The lump in his throat had started to feel unbearable.

Mothwing is a star now, Crowfeather told her, and looked to the heavens.


Mothwing is gone.

Her stomach tightened when Crowfeather looked away in response. She knew what that meant. Towhee felt guilty for dredging up a painful memory and she wanted to say she was sorry, particularly for his loss. But even the most heartfelt condolences were still little more than platitudes.

"I know the feeling," she said quietly when he looked mournfully to the stars, injecting as much authenticity into the statement as she could what with her inability to regulate tone. She wondered if Crowfeather found comfort in the belief that his dead friend was up there among the stars.

She said nothing else for a moment, when a different curiosity popped into her head. "When you say you and your friend—Germanicus?—are looking to assist packs, do you mean you're trying to join them? Or something else?" If that was the case, it didn't really make sense for Rue to turn them away. The caldera could usually use able bodies. So, what then? How did this arrangement work?

Crowfeather found that he understood why the Sovereign had been able to lead. Nothing about the disability she had seemed to impact her ability to share, to show compassion when needed. The young wolf believed her to be rather incredible.

When she inquired what their purpose was, Crowfeather blinked thoughtfully. Long ears swiveled backward before focusing on her again. I am unsure, Crowfeather admitted to the leader of Caldera pack.

Germanicus seeks a journey east, he did not say where, only that it was their direction. I will go wherever he goes. The last statement was made in a matter-of-fact way, as though there were no other option.

She really hadn't expected that answer, so her ears tilted backward in momentary confusion. How could he not know? His next few words explained, in part: it sounded like Germanicus was the leader of their duo and Crowfeather just went wherever he was led.

"Gotcha," she replied, then winced suddenly when the pain in her stomach suddenly flared. Aware that she hadn't done anything to school her expression, she said, "Stomachache, oof."

And though she was enjoying what amounted to small talk more than she had expected—genuinely, not just as a temporary distraction—she decided that was probably her cue. She inhaled and exhaled shallowly, trying to breathe through the sourness in her belly so she could stomach (pun intended) the walk home.

"I should head back. I have a patrol to finish. But it was nice speaking with you, Crowfeather. If you guys need somewhere more permanent to settle, don't be afraid to knock on our door. Take care."

The woman said that her stomach ached and Crowfeather blinked foolishly in response.

This was a cue to pull their conversation to a close. The dark wolf nodded his head, bowing slightly. It had been nice to speak of home to someone, he wanted to tell her. Something in him said that it would look rightfully pathetic if he tried.

When the Sovereign had disappeared, Crowfeather realized he could have told her to try mint for her stomach. Cursing himself silently, the dark figure aimed his sights for the bramble forest and began to make his course back to Germanicus.