Silver Creek I open my eyes to the light of the sun

A small, swift figure cut silently through the trees, silhouetted under the dimming dusklight. Frail beneath his furs, face drawn with weariness, the young wolfdog emerged into a clearing with a low woof. @Lorekeeper would be there, he knew, but he did not want to startle her. They were tense enough already, both of them.

I've found a place, The Starwatcher announced in a soft starlit voice, eyes warm on his companion as he drew close. It isn't far. A place where the creek splits into two. Surrounded by water, they would be safe for a night or two, or so he hoped. It'd been weeks since they'd met any others. There were scents threaded through the lands, old and new, but by now they'd become adept at avoiding these unwanted encounters.

He beckoned his companion wordlessly and turned.

It was rare to see the wisp leaving the cover of the forests. Moreso in recent times.

Only when travel called did they feel forced to leave these foreign canopies. Grueling treks promted cursings. Gentle in tone, lacking in edge one would expect to be present passive, but they were cursings nontheless. And their compainions ears would not be spared their murmers.

Rarely did they not feel obligated to constantly be on the move nowadays, but not that evening. A frenetic feeling found them admist a moment to themselves, and Lorekeeper found themselves pacing the clearing with no true purpose.

The familiarity of Starwatcher's voice soothed this somewhat, though his initial presence sent a jolt through her spine.

Oh, yes, good. That's good. The fur on their neck fell back as they nodded. With newfound relief creeping in their voice, they added, And it's secluded, yes? No others?

Of course, He said softly, glancing back to be sure that Lorekeeper was following. His eyes lifted skyward then. It'll rain again soon.

He lapsed back into silence as he guided his companion through the forest. They traveled in silence often. He didn't need to wonder what she was thinking about; their lives had morphed into one, with the same troubles and the same goals. Their success and failure was irrevocably tied, for better or worse.

Somewhere ahead he heard the thump of footsteps, the rustle of leaves. Starwatcher stepped into Lorekeeper's path to block her and went still, eyes trained ahead. For a time he only listened to the sounds of the forest, tasted the air. The steps receded in a different direction.

He let out a breath and stepped out of his companion's path, nodding once to signal that it was safe and they could move forward.

That's good, out came a sigh of relief. She followed his gaze to thick clouds, and when Starwatcher moved they were right behind.

Onward in silence they went. And for a moment Lorekeeper's mind, too, was without thought. A tranquil moment, one they wished to relish in. But with more acknowlegement to that came a budding anxiety, a fear of the future. And soon their mind would return to the chaotic symphony that plagued it all these weeks. And like some cruel crescendo came a crash of outside footfall.

The dog's breath hitched. Somehow it had become even more quiet then before. Wide eyes looked to the woods beyond, to his companion. With one nod Lorekeeper was allowed to breathe once more.

I grow tired he sighed for only the wolf to hear. I hope it's comfortable. A dry chuckle followed. One could wish for solace all they wanted, but this new world had none to give.