Sun Mote Copse mention our ghosts, our knotted spines

scouting thread 3 of 4. tagging for reference!

Mato keep pushing west. He is reluctant to leave behind Silverlight Terrace but as beautiful as it is he knows it must be left behind: it was not ideal. @Seabreeze is blessedly patient with the starlit druid as he keeps searching. Doubt does not harbor a place within him: he knows he will find a place to build Tindómë …where they will build it because Seabreeze has become as crucial to the whole idea as Mato himself. It is something of an unexpected surprise but a pleasant one, at least. He had expected to be on his own in the task, in the conception aside from the wolves that he would recruit to the cause and (for once, perhaps) the empyrean is happy to find that he was wrong. He enjoys Seabreeze’s companionship in a way that …perplexes him, perhaps. She is lovely and somehow she grows lovelier every day …or perhaps it is not she that changes but his perception of her; and the empyrean is naïve in such things, unaware of what is stirring for her …and ignorant to what it means. He knows fondness and affection, of course. He feels these things for his family, for Rannoch and Cypress; but as he dwells upon it, enjoying the early morning sun as it shines through the bright forest, catching on the motes of pollen that dance around them like forest sprites the druid notes that it feels …different.

He spares Aerlinn a glimpse as she keeps step alongside him and wonders about connections and destinies all other things he cannot truly hope to fathom. She is of the sea and he is of starlight and moonbeams; and according to her the sea and the moon are intimately connected to one another. Does that mean …? He stops himself, finding the whole thing perplexing and a soft burn of heat creeps up his neck hidden by plush moonbeam pelage but his ears flutter back and he averts his gaze to the undiscovered path before them — the only physical signs of his brief embarrassment. It would be easy to cling to childhood but he is no longer a child. It is not a truth anymore. This is proof of it, all of it. The stirrings for Seabreeze, the consuming desire to venture out on his own and build something that is borne of his own ideas. “This place is nice,” Mato remarks, contented that he does not have any ill feelings from the territory; but it does not strike him as perfect either and this holds true in his tone. For a moment Mato is struck with an odd consideration of if he was being too picky. For a moment, lips part to let the question spill forth but he bites it back with a sharp intake of breath.

Not yet. Perhaps he would not ask it, ever. It strikes him as unseemly for an aspiring leader to second guess himself. He must be sure and consistent or else his kingdom will crumble before it has even had a change to become.

waves excitedly

he appeared from the earth itself, a ghostly visage -- or, no, that wasn't true, but it was how he felt, coming here, truly alone. but ghosts were made of mist and pale, and he was not, brittle-charcoal that he was instead, a ghoul. he wanted to feel mean. he did not want to think about his past, and so he didn't.

delight was not alone. this was a welcome change of pace, although the boy did not know how to reckon with it, it having been some time since he sought the company of another. the world was too bright for him to hide. pale eyes keep careful watch on the silvery male, hesitant, not quite hidden and not quite known yet. he would have stayed at a stand-still longer had the pollen not made the decision for him --

he sneezed.

damn. the singing-sunlight felt almost guilty having destroyed the peace of the scene, but, now there was no reason for him to stay in his (ineffectively) cloaked state. "it's dusty here," the petite boy said, not responding to the man's earlier sentence so much as explaining the reason for his undignified entrance, his tone at odds with his frame: sharp, a little sullen, blaming the world for his problems.

aw, delight is so cute! ♥

The pair continue on, Mato reflecting upon his thoughts without giving them to voice, convincing himself that he is not being too fastidious (which is a perfectly typical thing from Mato) simply because he has never regarded himself in such a way before, never truly cared about how he came off to others. Until recently. The empyrean suspects that Seabreeze plays her own part in his sudden awareness of his self; but perhaps it is also everything — all of it. The building of Tindómë once metaphorical stone at a time. It lifts Mato’s focus and attentions off of that which he can never touch in return for something that he can, something that together he and Seabreeze can build, can create themselves. That, in an of itself, is just as magical as the constellations above. His steps cease as the sneeze echoes through the copse, causing Mato’s ears to cup forth atop his skull. Silently, he spares a glimpse at Seabreeze beside him before he steps forth to greet the earthen colored wolf with pale eyes as he speaks that the copse is dusty.

Mato regards him with bright, apple green eyes, noting that he is small, wispy. Not that Mato is any great titan. The moonbeam kissed druid has always been average in every way. Umbra cape hairs bristle slightly with fear uncertainty as he regards the other but there is nothing hostile in Morwinyon’s posture. “I suppose it is,” The empyrean responds with a small tug of his lips. While the stranger finds it dusty, Mato finds it beautiful: but to each their own. “I am Mato and this is Seabreeze.” He introduces, gesturing back to his companion, wondering (perhaps absently) if she minds that he makes the introductions for them. Mato takes a deep breath, drinking in the male’s scent to determine if he is alone or of a pack. The lingering scent of others does not mix with his natural musk and the druid is left to assume that he is lone.

the green-bright gaze of the other male feels too heavy to him. he fights a frown, the hints of a sulk gathering in the edges of his mouth. is he being scrutizined for something without his knowing? it irritates him a little.

the male breaks the silence before delight can protest the unfairness of his judgement. mato. there's a second - a girl he hadn't noticed, seabreeze apparantly, and his gaze flickers to her for just a minute. a traveling pair then. friends, mates, whatever, delight wonders if he's intruding, and feels even more sullen at the thought. "my name is delight singing-sunlight," he says, puffing his chest up a little bit with the remnant pride of his surname (though objectively it is and has always been valueless). "you can call me whatever, though," the boy adds after a minute, almost shyly despite the edge to his expression. "are you together?"

Delight. Mato is given his name and the empyrean acknowledges it with a dip of his head. The other male’s name seemed like quite a mouthful to the druid but the slight puff of the other male’s chest did not go unnoticed by Mato as he gave his name. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Delight,” Mato offers earnestly with an amiable wave of his tail. At the question of him and Seabreeze being together, Mato is perplexed by the simple question, showing at the slight furrow of his brow. He glimpses over his shoulder at his companion before he looks back to Delight. Together? As in how? Like …together, together? Is he asking if they are a …couple? This is the only conclusion that Mato can come to but at the same time does not want to assume. The eloquent druid has been defeated by such a simple question that in it’s vagueness could come to mean many different things. “We are traveling together, yes.” Mato responds, after too long of a silence has passed between them. He is still not sure that is the right answer and his awkwardness is displayed in the flutter of his ears as they slick back to rest at half mast atop his skull. “We are scouting out a territory to claim for our pack.” Mato informs, hoping that this will steer attention in a different direction and effectively distract (including himself!) to something other than his inability to formally understand Delight’s question and whether the androgynous male had been referring to his relationship status or …not.

a ripple of amusement passes through him, slightly pleased to have thrown the silvery boy off. mato's avoidance and confusion all but confirms they aren't a couple, not like that, but traveling together and founding a pack together still feels very-coupley. wait, why does he care at all? 

unable to answer that himself the singing-sunlight lets the conversation be steered away. starting a pack... "you're considering here?" he asks, unable to keep the edge of incredulity out of his voice. okay, it is beautiful probably and the pollen looks like flecks of gold in the air but if he stays here he'll sneeze all the time. if he stays.. here. oh. "it's okay, i guess," delight fumbles, covering up the edges of his uncertainty as neatly as possible. "but i'd probably pick something else." somewhere like. he doesn't know, it's not his job to scout for lands, but that won't stop him from offering his opinion. though of course the pair could choose to disregard him, seeing as the wisp's a stranger, unaffiliated, except maybe he wants to be affiliated just a bit. a bit. "not much of a pack with just the two of you," he adds to this effect, perhaps not the most charming way of suggesting your interest but delight's a work in progress.

She tended to agree with him.  This land was nice, but it was not perfect and she knew that the Morwinyon would not settle for anything less.  So they would continue on.

But she was not capable of giving voice to this thought before a dark boy materialized in front of them by sneeze.  She was much less wary than her companion and as he bristles she moves, standing sort-of-forward, sort-of-beside him as introductions are made.

Delight!  The name reminds her of the moniker she had given herself when she had crashed near-lifelessly into the Teekons.  A smile plays upon her lips and she opens her mouth to speak but the boy continues talking and the question seems to take Mato aback as much as it does her.

"Are you together?"  Her ears flick back and she decides to let Mato answer this one, just as he has everything else.  And he does so eloquently, answers it just as she would have yet she still feels embarrassed, flicking her ears.

I don't think this is it, yet, she muses, speaking for the first time to the boy. and we are searching for others. A pack is not a pack with only two. Perhaps she was speaking out of turn; it was not her kingdom, it was Mato's!  But surely she knew that it would not be just the two of them, and she also felt in her heart that this was not where they would make their home.

The druid’s lips part to speak, to answer Delight’s question but Seabreeze beats the moonlit empyrean to it. “This territory does not call to me,” Mato chirps up, a bit redundant, but speaks with confidence to assure Seabreeze that she is correct in her assumption. “our search is not yet over.” They were probably running out of territory in the west and he thinks that if he finds nothing that calls to him in the Hinterlands that their only option is to head as far east as they can. He does not want a territory too close to another pack’s claimed lands and Mato thinks that this could present a little bit of a hiccup if he goes east. No, he thinks, it has to be west, where there is only one pack scent lingering upon the winds. “Tindómë is not going to be a traditional pack,” Mato speaks, picking up on the subtle undertones of potential interest. “It is correlated with the different trades. Masters will sit beneath leadership, wolves that have specialties beneath the Masters, those that have the basic trade, apprentices and then those without trades. Dominance beneath the leadership tier is depended upon skill.” Not age, not personality. If a wolf had the skill to reflect it then they had every right to show dominance over those in lower tiers than theirs. Mato's salmon pink tongue draws across his lips as he regards Delight with friendly curiosity wondering if it is that Seabreeze and him may have came across a recruit.

his attention has been drawn singularly to the silvery figure, not attempting to dismiss the girl by his side but, well, she's been rather quiet and he is deep in his own head. she did speak now, though, pulling his funny-pale gaze toward her, brow still slightly furrowed. they are looking - of course they're looking, he'd assumed as much, no one serious about pack would really try to start one with just a pair.

oh but. suddenly he feels he's in an interview of some sort. delight's intentions are written all over his face, aren't they, and their discussion of the territory slides past his ears unheeded. delight is always craving attention and unsure what to do with it when it's brought down around his head. he manages to listen despite it. tindómë... he doesn't say it out loud but he can feel the sound of it in his mouth and it is good. mato explains the premise, and "trades," the wisp murmurs, comtemplative but a little uncertain. he'd not gotten the opportunity to ... well, it didn't matter now; this is his fresh start. "i haven't any, yet," he announces a touch defiantly, then softens. "umbut, it seems that if you're looking, and i'm here, so. and i'm a fast learner." he'll have to pick something, but mato did mention apprenticeships, and despite his tender ego delight doesn't really mind starting at the bottom. he can catch up, he's sure of it.

It goes better than Mato thinks it might: Delight listens and murmurs the word “trades” in a contemplative tone. Mayo’s ears cup forth and he offers the dark male a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “I don’t require new members to have trades upon acceptance,” Mato assures him, unsure if it was a worry and if that was why the other male speaks his words with a bit of defiance. Of course it is paramount that at least one trade is earned but aside from that Mato will not be overly fussed. Their climb within the hierarchy depends solely upon them, removing potential favoritism from Mato’s path and will allow him to regard things objectively. “Then welcome to Tindómë, Delight.” It was not nearly so grand for he is distinctly lacking a territory but he feels that it is close. He feels it in the quiver of his whiskers, in the marrow of his bones. They are close to finding it. Just a little further west, he thinks. “We will keep going west in hopes of finding the territory we will claim for Tindómë.” It has been his driving force thus far. “but we are close to finding our home, I can feel it.” The druid is quick to assure his companions.

fluff participation post is garbage fluff.

Mato does not know it, but by assuring Delight that he does not need trades upon entry, it also calms the worries Seabreeze had.  He had to know she had no trades yet, but she wished to be able to contribute something to the trade-oriented pack.

She studies Delight carefully, continuing to let Mato speak.  Although this is her pack too, he is the crown, the king, the head of it all and she wishes not to get in the habit of undermining and speaking in his stead.  She expects no rank of value when they form because she has no trade of her own.  But she wonders what the dark boy will choose; such a tight, contemplative creature.

we can wrap up here-ish unless you wanna go one more round!

welcome to tindómë, and oh, that's a pretty good feeling the wisp thinks. it feels almost like - like cheating, to so quickly immerse himself into something new, something good, but hey, he deserves it, and he cracks a rare and genuine grin, something toothy and fleeting. "sure thing," del says, then ducks his head and adds, "uh, thank you," because he's not a complete mannerless oaf. he'll need to figure out a trade, and soon, because looking at the silvery prince and his .. friend, delight finds himself very lacking. he wants to redeem himself (of what? of absolutely nothing, or of being a survivor?) - prove himself, that's a better phrase, and he will. "you'll find it," he echoes, not including himself - yet - because he's unsure of the boundaries there - he doesn't wanna be a third wheel. but he'll stick around, chart a similar course. he'll follow mato wherever he needs to go.

i'll go ahead and archive this! :-)

Their support is greatly appreciated by the druid whom seeks to accept it as humbly as he possibly can. The foundation of Tindómë is being set and though there is much work set out before them, they are gaining purchase. It is the small victories that the Morwinyon relishes in; and he does not mind if it takes them a while to build. It is not as if he has ever founded a pack before and he does not wish to rush the process, does not want to skip anything potentially vital. “Thank you.” The druid speaks when Delight assures him that he’ll find it. “You are welcome to join us if you wish, or if you’d like to hang back …the choice is yours.” Mato does not want the other male to feel like he is pressured either way. Regardless, Mato keeps moving eager to find the territory that Tindómë would call home.