Swiftcurrent Creek Chimera

Her protectors were not far behind, she knew. But even after all that had happened, she felt safer here than most places; Reverie chose not to wait for their presence as she stepped toward the borders of Swiftcurrent Creek. She called out a soft song for @Akavir and @Arric, wondering only for a moment what sort of welcome she might find here.

But did it really matter?

She was here to warn them of a threat. Nothing more.

The beast of Sea-Snake lingered behind. He was a shadow amongst the trees as he watched his golden beauty from afar. She was taking a risk by calling them, howling above the skies, but Hunst had no power to deter her otherwise.

It wasn't his job to advise her. Only maim anyone who stood in her way. He was good at his job, though he knew he could do more. But he bit his tongue amongst the brush, awaiting for any sudden movements.

Vague-ish timeline... also tags are for references or to join. <3

The travel had been arduous at best—prior, at the beginning of the month, the Creek wolves had left with a lighter step—a certain air of promise lingering among them. Skins had been carefully folded to encase precious herbs and items for trade and gifting. The idea they would hunt among wolfkin alike—gain knowledge of those that surrounded them, whether near or far.

Now, returning, the party had grown sullen. And had dropped in numbers. His girls remained behind—wounded and in the care of Kukutux. His heart bled—weariness found within the pale champagne gleam of his eyes and the unkempt scruff along his chin and nape.

His first matter of business was to settle @Morwenna to her new home, and then find @Arric and give him on update of their dire situation. They weren’t far from the borders of their home when a summoning call echoed upon the cooler winds—causing the shadowrunner to pause, surprise flickering over his features before washing away to stoicism once more.

He hadn’t seen her in months—their last encounter chaotic at best—but it did not stop the Mayfair from slinging down the skin of goods they had returned with and stepping over his borders, reaching for Reverie and pulling her into an embrace, a low chuckle escaping him—perhaps, one of exasperation.

Lestan was here. What of that? Mae was injured, in another region entirely. What about that? A cartel of wolves were luring youths and seemingly trading a strange substance. So there was also that.

“Your timing is shit,” he mumbled against the nape of her fur, noting the difference and yet familiarity of her scent all in one.

Morwenna moved with an air of quiet resolve behind Akavir, the skin of supplies bundled carefully against her flank, its weight a small burden compared to the wear of their recent journey. Her gaze fell ahead to the borders, lingering on the notion of home. In the stillness, she allowed her thoughts to drift—but not so far that she missed the call floating across the breeze, nor the subtle way Akavir paused. The figure that approached was delicate yet marked by hardship, her pale coat and steady steps giving her an aura of something nearly spectral.

Akavir’s reaction, a mixture of relief and exasperation as he crossed to embrace her, stilled Morwenna’s steps. She watched, a polite yet distant expression tempering her features. Just beside the woman, though, stood another—a hulking figure with scars carved into his face and an intensity that commanded the eye. His presence sharpened Morwenna’s senses, though she masked any unease with her usual calm demeanor. She did not know his name, nor anything of his intentions, only that he seemed to be her companion’s silent guard.

Morwenna’s gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to the two in reunion, and she wondered just how far this woman’s reach extended, what past lay in her wake. Despite the formidable pair, she remained poised and unmoved, the quiet strength of her own presence a soft but solid line against their reunion. She would speak if addressed, though her silence was as thoughtful as ever, her attention drifting back to Akavir—ever her anchor in this journey.

Since there are so many. He can be a cameo if you'd like

Arric heard the call and heeded it. A grave air to his countenance. He passed a sparing glance to the beast behind Reverie and then to the one that had followed Akavir and a bitter taste rose in his mouth. Had she followed because she wanted a home or becasue she wanted a leader. Because Arric was getting a little pissed off at the tramps that always seemed to show up on their borders looking at his best buddy like a meal ticket. 

But he offered Rev a smile. Share her you dickface. He growled at Akavir, reaching to pull her into his own wolfish hug.

It felt oddly like a quiet fracturing of her heart when her welcome was that of family returned home. There was no time to process any of it, this abrupt flood of feeling washing over her as Akavir pulled her into a hug. And there was Arric, too —

Reverie buried her muzzle in Akavir's dark fur, once and forever the scent of home, and let the rest fade away. Just for a moment. Your timing is shit, he told her, and her quiet tearful laughter was her only response for several long seconds. She thought she might never let him go. For a wild, fierce moment she imagined abandoning her quest, staying here, and would that have been so terrible? Was it so wrong of her to want to live?

I'm afraid my news isn't any better, She murmured to Akavir, surrendering his embrace and her selfish dreamings both. Reverie moved to hug Arric next, sparing only a glance for the woman who lurked behind the two men. It's good to see you - both of you. Her eyes were shining as she looked them over, but she refused to let her tears fall.

Then her gaze caught on something in Akavir's expression, and she frowned. You look tired, Half-scolding, half-concerned; it was too easy to forget for a moment that they had company. She remembered quickly enough, and her ears folded as she added more quietly: Is - is everything alright here? This time she addressed Arric, too.

Her laugh like a song—there was always something jubilant about Reverie, even at some of their worst times. But that was what family was, wasn’t it—the worst of times, and the best of times? For a moment his arms tightened on her, already wishing he was not about to deliver terrible news to her, but Arric was there—insisting he share, and Akavir took a half-hearted swipe at him. “Nope, get," he mumbled, the corners of his lips quirking up in amusement. Despite the worry that gnawed at him for Mae and Cygnet, there was never anything like coming home after a long trip—nothing could compare.

He released her, taking a pace back—it was then his eyes fell on the absolute beast that stood not far, and he blinked. The last guy she had with her had been this impish little dude—much smaller. Much more vocal than the stature, there. “Dusty had a growth spurt, I see,” he murmured wryly, gaze switching back to Reverie a moment as he waited for an introduction.

Speaking of… he shifted, a few strides taking him to Morwenna where he beckoned her to settle if she so wished, entirely missing the glare his Beta offered her that could rival the ones of Cygnet and Mae—pulling the weight of the returned goods and trades she had carried to him, an ear flicking at the concern of the pale she-wolf beside Arric as she mentioned she had bad news—a snort of laughter escaping him.

“My news isn’t great, either,” he admitted, sliding down to a seat, ignoring Reverie’s admonishment of his fatigue. He could certainly use a clean up—the creek was all but calling his name, right now. “But ladies first.”

When their greetings were over and they'd settled, Reverie was reminded again of all that had brought her here — and all that she'd left along the way. Very funny, She murmured with a wry, lifeless half-smile at his mention of her husband. Dusty Rose is recovering with a pack called Witch Island - led by my cousin. Hunst is a cousin of sorts, too. She gestured with her muzzle to the pale warrior at her back.

But he's here as one of my protectors. My um - my parents, they've been gathering followers - more wolves than I've ever seen. They call it Sunfil - and they're going to come here, if they're not already on the way, She took a breath to steady herself. There are three others with me besides Hunst - and so much more to tell. But we won't be staying long. We're heading for Moonglow, then Akashingo, and then...

Reverie trailed off, unwilling to speak further of her plans in the company of so many. Well, what's your news? She finished instead, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

@Arric being brought in for this round, maybe?

A nod given to Hunst as Reverie introduced him—his eyes falling on her gilded features. “Recovering?” Was her mate sick? Injured? He let the topic drift for now—his eyes catching upon Arric as Reverie mentioned she had brought guards with her, and followers for her parents.

He didn’t know much about her parents, and he waited for the bad news to become more apparent—but it didn’t. Instead, she offered for him to share his, and he felt a light frown pull at his features before shifting his weight under the skin of items he now held, a paw lifting to scratch at the bottom of his chin scruff for a moment, considering.

“Just came back from an organized hunt for the packs in Teekon by the Moon wolves. Mae was attacked… she couldn’t travel back with us. She’s with Moonglow right now, under Kukutux’s care. Cygnet, also, got hurt, helping her,” he offered, eyes panning back to Arric with this part of the news. Arlette was going to be upset.

“It was a girl from the Sapphique pack. I should probably get back to them… but, I wanted to get Etienne and Caliste home,” he noted, before looking over to Morwenna. “As well as Morwenna… an aspiring diplomat for the Creek.” His eyes shifted back to Arric once more, a brow arching.

“During the hunt, Akashingo got word of an attack on them. Apparently, in Muat-riya, their second palace… South of here, in the desert… There’s been a lot of trouble. Wolves trying to lure young girls, leading attacks… Kidnapping. They’re trying to pass around some kind of plant or herb, it seems… I don’t think anyone knows what it is or does, yet.” He exhaled.

“Toula is asking for any assistance they can gather from any of the packs.”

That was when his eyes traced over his Beta—waiting for a response.

Arric shifted. Never quiet. Never easy around here.

He kept his mouth quirked in a sharp smile. Worry lines coloring his brows. He titled his ears forward and silently waited.

Why are your parents looking to come here, Rev?

A shift again. Are we sending to Akashingo?

Mae and Cygnet. Reverie felt a pang first for the girl she thought of as a daughter, then for the girl she'd never had the chance to love. Moss's daughter. It was nearly as troubling to hear of the attack on Muat-Riya; a conflict predating Reverie's own return to the wilds, and trouble brewing here with the coastal pack Sapphique.

Her expression was solemn as she took in Akavir's news. Etienne...? The questioning murmur slipped from her unbidden, but Reverie said nothing more for now. Instead she turned her gaze to Arric as he spoke, and her eyes darkened with his question.

To bring war, She said softly. I can't say more than that - not here. There are things you should both know, but no one else.

Mae and Cygnet - are they...? She might have said okay, but that seemed foolish. Instead Reverie trailed off with her gaze lingering on Akavir. The other questions could be answered in time - and it was clear that Arric and Akavir had much to speak about, too. The only thing to be done, she thought, was gingerly tend those few matters of the heart which might be soothed with a simple word or two.

Arric—bombarded, it felt in that moment, and Akavir felt the weight of the moment. He was tired—Reverie wasn’t wrong. A sideways glance was given to Morwenna, a shrug given in response to his Beta, for now. “I’m thinking—I’m considering. I don’t know yet,” he replied honestly. To leave the Rising Sun unprotected was unquestionable, but there was a certain part of him that felt pulled to assist Toula.

To help Eset, after everything.

But risking his own didn’t seem fair.

He blinked—Arric asked of her parents—mirroring his own confusion on the matter, and Reverie responded with an answer that was perfect for someone’s apocalyptic bingo card.

Anyone have double war on theirs, this year?

“Hurt. Seriously. Cygnet is resting here, now. I’ll be returning for Mae, soon. But I need to talk to Kvarsheim.”

Irritation skittered along his spine like nails on a chalkboard and Arric found himself breifly pissed off. It seemed they could never get a break could they. He took a centering breath and another. And frowned. 

I'll go to Kvarsheim. What am I telling them or not telling them? This way you can be with Cygnet. Because she is.

Arric buttoned his lip for a minute, fearful he would say an unkindness. And then continued softer. SHe will want you around. And she is also probably gonna want to go with you to deal with mae and you need to rest. No matter what you think or what you say. I'll get Arlette after you if I have too.

A certain wave of relief swept over him at Arric’s offer—a nod given to the man in gratitude. He wasn’t keen on leaving Cygnet—he already had to make the impossible decision to leave one of the girl’s behind, and while Cygnet was responsive and aware—he wasn’t sure how she would feel after she finally rested.

“Wait for now,” he decided. “We’ll take a day or two to recoup. Maybe see what Arlette thinks of everything. She should also have a say in what we present to the other packs.”

(In truth, Eivor would end up calling Akavir for an audience somewhere in this timeline, so… )

But after they regrouped, they could make a decision.

“We’ll need to think about training ours for battle, more often,” he noted to the larger man. “A list of who might specialize in whatever tactics or what they can provide would be good to know…” He trailed off, gaze skimming over to Reverie and then Morwenna, who stood patiently to the side.