Shadewood come in from the cold

Cailean had lived four Winters and never seen one quite this cold. He kept moving primarily to keep the chill from his bones, but even at a brisk walk he was unsuccessful in that endeavour. The cold came at him from every angle, making the air sting as it entered his lungs and unfurl in a thick plume as it emerged from dark lips. He had felt this cold only once before – when he had been less than two years old, and had been lost in a blizzard. He remembered the biting chill which had wrapped around a much younger and less powerful form. He remembered the feeling that it would always be there, gnawing at his very bones and making him forget what warmth was.

He remembered, too, coming out the other side of it a different wolf. A little less carefree – a little more serious. Cailean had been alone then, and he was alone now, but this was no swirling, rushing blizzard. This deep Winter which had hold of the lands was in it for the long haul. He could see it in the greying of the sky – that was why he had sought the relative shelter of the woods. For just a few moments, he wanted to forget the chill which seemed to permeate every fibre of him, and take solace in the strength of the oaks and elms.

He regarded a fallen limb with sombre eyes the colour of an unhappy ocean, taking extra care as he picked his way around it. Even then, with his mind intent on making his way safely through the towering trees, he was almost robbed of his footing.

Last time she came here it had been with Laika.  As she walked once more into the woods she wondered where her friend was now... if she was still even alive anymore.  Deep down she knew Laika was most likely dead, but still she had never had the courage to say it.  Laika had been her best friend, they had grown so close... and then she had just disappeared on her failed mission home to Silver Creek with Casmir... and now even Casmir was gone to, having left with Rowan and the children.

A large part of her wondered why she had come her to the Shadewood at this time.  Perhaps it had just been as simple as a subconscious decision she'd made to be reminded of those that had come and gone.  Those that her pups, the future of the pack would never know.

She paused in her steps at the scent of another and then curiously and carefully began to pick her way through the icy, snowy wood.  Eventually her eyes laid upon a dove grey male some feet away from her, whom she now eyes curiously.  "Hello," she greeted the other politely.  Then watched silently to see if they would give her a response or just walk away.

Cailean’s form was bulkier than some; if he was going to go down on the ice, he would go down hard. He couldn’t afford to lose his footing, so it was with minute attention to what every muscle was doing that he moved through the snow-laden trees. Some of the boughs were bent as if trying shrug off the weight of the cold powder; others had snapped away from their anchorage completely. It was far from a simple path the male would have to weave in his search for shelter.

He had been reduced to thinking in terms of the next moment, the next heartbeat – never any further ahead than a day or a night. Moving from place to place had rapidly shifted to moving from shelter to shelter with the sudden onset of icy squalls. And it was all in an effort to ensure that the next heartbeat thumped in his chest. He had no goals beyond survival.

But when he heard the stir of footsteps and caught the agouti form of another in his peripheral vision, some part of him which had been half buried by snow and ice reared its head: curiousity. It was something which had once been a driving force in Cailean, and one of the few things he could still take note of beyond the frigid temperatures and the chaos strewn about. His head swung up, eyes slightly widened as they regarded the stranger.

She had a coat of russet agouti and a smattering of scars like the male himself, and she spoke politely. Cailean dipped his broad head in response, ears splaying and tail lowering.

“Hello there.”

He seemed friendly enough to her.  His reponse was kind, not sharp or anything of that matter.  She found herself scanning him, wondering what he was doing alone in these woods at such a cold time... and just like a domino effect, another thought struck her.  Perhaps he could be a recruit for Silver Creek.

Still they had just met.

She decided to wait, to talk to him, see if she could learn of his strengths and then perhaps offer him a place in her pack if he fit the criteria of being able to pull his own weight, to contribute.  Perhaps through the role of an amazing mercenary or a medic like herself... maybe something as simple as one who could mark the borders all day without becoming bored.  She would just have to watch an wait.

"Terribly cold out isn't it?"  She remarked in a rather solemn tone, her eyes trailing their freezing winter surroundings, wondering just when it would finally go away.

The words came with an unfurling cloud of silver which sparkled in the cold air for a moment before dissipating. It felt as if every breath was hard fought for in these times of frozen forests and fields. Some part of Cailean told him that he should keep moving, keep those thick muscles rolling beneath his coarse pelt, but manners dictated that he not simply walk off on the she-wolf. Aside from that, she was the first who had deigned to speak to him in what felt like months of traipsing through a frozen wilderness.

Cailean had been a loner longer than he’d care to admit, but before that he had had a life and a pack. A family – though they had been ripped away from him. Perhaps it was the vain hope of reuniting with them that kept him moving, chasing shadows and dreams that would never satisfy him. It kept him sharp but it kept him alone.

He let out a hollow chuckle in response to her remark and offered a slow, deep nod of his head.

“Especially when you have no in to go to.” Cailean was without a den – without shelter of any sort, and it showed. Crystals of ice clung to his dove grey fur. Luckily his body was built to withstand a certain amount of cold and hardship, but he would have given anything for a warm spot to snooze in.

“Cailean,” he introduced himself after a moment, ears flicking back.

Cailean he called himself.  At his mention of not having a pack her interests spiked.  Perhaps that was a hint, a hint she would take.  For with Silver Creek's lower numbers, she knew that if they were to survive, if her children were to survive, she had better start recruiting others who had the right skills.

"I'm Spring," she replied in turn and then paused for a moment before continuing.  "You know Cailean, I have a pack called Silver Creek not too far away from here.  Now it's totally up to you, but to me you appear to have the right build to suit my pack.  As long as you can mark borders or do other tasks such as healing or fighting, you sure are welcomed to join."  She shrugged glancing away for the moment.  "Especially with all this cold it might be good to be joining a pack... the decision is yours though to make."

He would commit Spring’s name to memory. She seemed pleasant enough, and she had at least tried to converse with the scarred male, when she could’ve just gone on her way. It had been too long, Cailean realised, since he had had a pleasant conversation with another wolf. His small talk skills were beyond rusty, but he appreciated the fact that Spring had taken the time to speak with him.

His ears splayed, flat turquoise eyes taking on a new level of intensity as the agouti female made what sounded an awful lot like an offer. A place in a pack – a home? It was something Cailean had scarcely dared to hope for over months of solitary travel.

“Silver Creek,” he echoed, making sure that the pack’s name, as well as the female’s, would rest in his memory. It helped to say things out loud when they might be of use later. His head tilted, and one ear flicked away a fleck of snow. The pursuits Spring had named were things Cailean could do – border marking and healing moreso than fighting. He had gained his scars more through being a doormat than through any particular skill in war. But he could defend – he would defend – what mattered to him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, offering a half smile which lit his eyes. “I’ll be sure to think on that. Where might I find you, from here?”

Cailean seemed to want to think on her offer, but she was still happy to give him an option rather than none of he ever happened to think he wanted to join later.  For if she did find Cailean at her borders she would be happy to let him in at this point.

"Silver Creek is just South of here Cailean." She informed him.  "As long as you head that way from the Shadewood where we are right now you'll reach our borders."  Then with a short yawn she slowly sunk to her haunches.