Wapun Meadow I'm a believer; don't call us another name

I'll figure out the timeline on this laaaater @Phox

The winter-cloaked meadow was the perfect place to dance. Reverie had meant to map the territory, truly! She'd followed the paths laid by wolves and prey alike, at least those she could still follow as the snow fell lightly around her. For a time, she'd been focused. Then — well, she wasn't sure how it had happened.
She knew only that it felt natural. She was made for nothing but this, movement and color and breathless endless joy. Reverie was not a girl, no, she was not even a wolf then; she was only a dancer. Snow fell around her as she swept through the meadow, dancing, a neverending swirl of gold. For a time she thought of no one and nothing in the world beyond. She thought only of herself. Maybe she really had meant it, that night — when she'd asked herself what she wanted. Maybe that was the answer. Out of all the possibilities laid before her, the whole world, all of it... she only wanted to dance.

timeline? what timeline?

Phox found himself wandering away from home far more often than he ever had in the past. Maybe it was something about his near-death encounter, but he felt he was seeing the world with an entirely new perspective. Or maybe he was subconsciously on the hunt for a lady friend, what with the season and all. Who could say... who could say?

Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, leaving Phox looking even more silver than usual. And he peered out at the strange figure who seemed to be... doing something. For a moment he wondered if she was chasing something, but her attention didn't seem to be on the ground or the sky. She was just whirling about in ways that Phox could never hope to.

Was this some sort of advanced courting ritual?

She felt eyes on her. Lestan? she thought, but when she stopped and turned, it was a stranger watching her. Reverie flushed, embarrassed; she wished it was Lestan! Instead it was only this man, tall and silvered with snow, older than her by years, missing a leg —
Missing a leg! By the Mother! Had she ever seen so grievous a wound on a wolf? It was old, healed, but the sight of it was terrible. She remembered her manners, though, and only glanced over it briefly. Then she offered a nervous smile and tried only to note the features of his face. Another scar. Oh! Was this man dangerous? Hello, She couldn't quite fight the sudden urge to explain herself. I thought I was alone - it just seemed like such a perfect place to dance - I - ah. I'm Reverie.

She spotted him and approached. In some ways, he was getting used to everybody having a gander at his leg. Or rather, his lack of one. He was still rather aware every time somebody noticed it, and he still flinched each time, but his emotional reaction was less and less with each encounter. Maybe, one day, he wouldn't even notice. (Unlikely.)

Pleasure to meet you; I'm Phox. Can't say I've ever seen anything like your dancing, Phox said. Is it some sort of... ritual? He would leave her to explain what sorts of things the ritual was meant to bring about. Somehow, it seemed uncouth to suggest that it was an attraction ritual. And he didn't want to make himself look like a creep.

Phox. He didn't look much like a fox to her; were there such things as silver foxes? If only Reverie knew. He'd never seen anyone dance before, and that struck her as sad in a way. She might have offered to teach him, but his leg — no, best not.
Well, no - not this time. It was only for fun, Reverie explained shyly. She wondered what sort of rituals he practiced, to recognize her dance for what it was truly meant to be! Maybe she should have felt shamed by the way he called attention to this failing of hers; after all, she was meant to dance only for Mother Rain. Somehow that didn't feel as important as it once had. It's sort of - art. Like singing! There's a method to it, and it's meant to convey a feeling, but... mostly it's just for fun. It all sounded a little silly now that she was explaining it. Was this really all she wanted out of her life?
Yes. Definitely yes.

So she wasn't performing some sort of courting ritual (this time, at least). Although, if Phox had been engineering such a thing, he thought she had a pretty good starting point. It had certainly gotten his attention, after all. Something told him it wouldn't have the same effect if he had been out here doing that by himself. He'd probably just look like—even more of—a clumsy goof.

That's nice, he said, immediately feeling like his words were inadequate and probably a little demeaning. Are you from around here? Smooth, Phox. Very smooth. Next you should ask if you can buy her a drink.

That's nice; oh! So he didn't think it was silly, then. Reverie warmed under his easy acceptance of her explanation, and his presumed interest in her. Not originally, but I came here a few weeks ago. I live with Kvarsheim, She gestured in the general direction. He was kind, she decided, and by extension handsome too. She was beginning to find a theme to her attractions, though she hadn't yet realized that her definition of kindness was perhaps a bit too broad.
And he was so much older than she was! She blushed again, but it felt different this time. As with Sandy, she started to dread their continued interaction. She thought of Lestan, and told herself these were only crushes. They didn't compare. What about you? She asked then, deciding to simply stifle it. That was easy enough.

Fresh meat. Okay Phox, stop being a creepy old man.

Who was this "Kvarsheim" fellow? Phox had never heard of him before, but maybe that was a good thing. In fact, the last thing he wanted was to "steal" somebody's partner. It just wasn't his style. He need to make friends, not enemies. But flirting was still allowed, right? Anybody could flirt with anybody, and that wasn't a crime, right? Maybe he could weasel out whether or not this Kvarsheim was a family member, friend, or something more.

I live with my sister and her family over in Epoch. Phox gestured in the general direction of the mountain range, shifting on his feet a little so he didn't topple over. The Redhawk was still getting used to balancing on all threes.

He lived with his sister; she suddenly wondered if she'd ever asked Lestan about his family. Then she remembered that she would have to tell him about her family, too, and that just wouldn't do. But! Phox! Epoch? I've never heard of that pack, Her gaze followed his gesture, and she stepped closer without thinking about it. Maybe Phox would let her visit him there sometime. Those are mountains, aren't they? I've never seen them up close... Her voice dropped with fascination, and her eyes were full of the same sparkling wonder when she looked back at him.

He didn't get an answer to his unspoken question, so Phox was still left wondering who Kvarsheim was in relation to Reverie. Maybe he would never know. Maybe it was her brother. That wouldn't be so odd or off-putting.

A wolf who had never seen mountains? The thought really threw Phox for a loop. He'd been born on a mountain and had spent much of his life either on or around them. Really? If you ever wanted to visit Epoch, I'd be happy to show you around. The view from up top is really unlike anything else.

Was he... asking her out? Maybe. But who could really say? Maybe he was just being friendly.

As if he'd read her mind, Phox offered a visit; offered to show her around. The view from up top — that image in particular fascinated her. Reverie found herself wondering often lately what it might be like to fly, and imagined that from all the way up there, she might be able to grasp the feeling. Hopefully not literally; what if she fell! No, she wouldn't think of that.
Oh, I would love that, She breathed, and suddenly felt that she ought to offer something in return. Maybe - you could visit Kvarsheim sometime, too? If you want! Everyone is very kind there, and it's a beautiful place. They have all these huge tall stones... Reverie realized she was getting carried away, and allowed herself to trail off and just look at Phox for a moment. His eyes reminded her of the most vivid sunset — no! She reminded herself of Lestan, again.

She accepted his offer, and Phox found himself grow warm. Not from embarrassment, but perhaps it was... well, something else. Contentment? Excitement? Possibility?

It's a date!

He realized with her next sentiment that Kvarsheim was a place, not a person, and that rather quickly swung his mood in an even more positive direction. It meant that—quite possibly—there was no competition between him and some other man courting her. It wasn't like she would go around accepting dates if she was already being courted, right?

Oh, that sounds really neat; I'd love to check it out. Maybe after you come visit me, we could travel there together?

A date? She blinked, uncertain. What was a date? Maybe — it was just another word for an outing with a friend. Yes. That had to be it. And truly, she felt they would be such good friends! Phox seemed taken with the idea of visiting Kvarsheim; he even wanted to travel there with her, after her visit to Epoch. Reverie's own vibe turned to excitement, her tail swaying.
Perfect! She agreed brightly. For a moment she thought: I wish Lestan volunteered so much of his time so freely. It always feels stolen, with him. Then she told herself she was wrong, she was being silly, there was no point to comparing them, and besides — this was a better time than ever to live in the present. She'd made a new friend. I have a few things to take care of, before I visit, but I will soon! Where... exactly is it? He'd only given her a vague gesture, after all. She looked past him again, toward the mountains, though she knew she wouldn't see anything useful from here.

That would be helpful to know, wouldn't it? he replied, flashing her a goofy smile. If you head north west from here, you'll want to go right around the lake until you can cross the river. Then get yourself up a little higher until you can see a valley full of forests. We're kind of nestled in the middle of all that. I should be able to hear you so long as you're not too far off, and I'll come to meet you.

He hoped those directions were sufficient. If she kept hollering for him, she'd probably eventually find him. With their plan (date?!) in place, Phox bid his new friend farewell, step-step-hopping his way back to Epoch, with a bit more pep in his stride than had been there before.