Sleepy Fox Hollow you know sir, if you ever lose your way

@Cyclone

time (and imrathil) steadily marched forward. in recent weeks the wilds had undergone its months-long transformation - from shriveling and waning, to becoming covered in plains of immutable snow. imrathil had more than once cursed the thick blanket of wintry slush, finding it impeded his progress south.

it also made for exhaustive traveling. the thick snowpack, combined with fierce gales, had caused imrathil to expend energy he could scarcely afford. he was relieved when he entered the sheltered fortress of what appeared to be a quiet hollow; the trees here were plentiful and dark, and imrathil rested his tired body under the eaves of a gnarled conifer bough in the hopes to catch brief rest.

Cyclone continued to roam, continued to explore, and continued to ponder names for the little group she planned to put together. Whether or not anybody (including herself) would actually follow through was an entirely different matter. Still, it was fun to think about, and it made the time pass. Neasa returned to the quiet calm of the hollow today, tip-toeing her way down the well-worn paths into the wooded valley. Was it really a valley if it was enclosed on all sides? She wasn't sure about the exact nomenclature, but she was pretty keen on it as a whole.

She came across an antler, still attached to the skull of some buck who had long since passed, and she began to gnaw on it, using her feet to keep it down while she attempted to rip it from its socket. It only had a few points on it, which meant the poor thing hadn't been very old when it had died, but she didn't give that much thought. She was much more interested in the chewing sensation and how satisfying it was.

After some effort, the antler finally broke free, and she tumbled backward with her prize. Delighted, Cyclone went prancing through the forest like a loon with the antler in her mouth, daring anybody who might be nearby to try and take it from her.

imrathil jolted awake from his restless sleep with a yelp, the sound of snow crunching under paws sounding like buckshot through the forest. he tensed against the back of the scarred tree, anticipating the worst as he collected his scattered wits.

his fears were short-founded, but his heart was still beating a steady tattoo against his chest as cyclone's form tore through the forest like a, well, cyclone. his gaze narrowed at the stick -- no, antler -- held proudly in her jaws. no doubt it was the spoils of a recent conquest, or perhaps the discovery of an old cache. imrathil's stomach grumbled in hungry dissent as he shifted upwards with a wince, his posture subdued as he was certain she had heard his very umanly cry of surprise just moment's prior.

A yelp distracted her long enough for Cyclone to drop the antler, but she was quick to pick it back up again. It was her prize, and she would not be giving it up to anybody. She followed the sound to its source: a very pretty black-furred boy. Maybe "boy" was the wrong word. "Man" wasn't quite right either. "Dude" seemed most appropriate. She quirked a brow, lowered her front half, and shook her hind end while her tail wagged.

It was the pose any wolf might use to invite one thing, and one thing only: just try and take it from me.

shaken as imrathil was, he was quickly assured by the female’s posture - which went from mildly confused to unmistakably playful. his first few steps towards cyclone were distinctly tentative - as enticing as wrestling for a trinket seemed, cyclone was a total stranger, much less a stranger bearing a grim artifact in the middle of a rather spooky forest. 

he obliged her invitation with a guarded and easily dodged dive, jaws parted in a half-hearted attempt to nip at the flat surface of the skull. his eyes were kept on her features - no doubt to confirm any suspicious shift of features should her motives prove sour.

He lunged toward her, and Cyclone pulled away with ease. This was play, not a fight, so there was no "winning," except maybe if he managed to steal away her antler. Not that she would be wounded in the end. She had no intentions of harming him, and based on his body language, he felt the same way. They seemed to be on the same page, which was more than she could say for most of the wolves she had met. For whatever reason, Cyclone continued to rub many wolves the wrong way (and they did the same in turn).

Rather than stick to a game of keep-away, Cyclone flung the antler to the right, then raced him toward it, wondering if he would be quick enough to snatch it from under her.

rofl i rolled a fail rip ingram

predictably, imrathil's clumsy launch was easily averted. in truth he was not a particularly fast wolf, even when he had been hale and free of ligament limitations -- but now, with the corded scarring that ruined the elasticity of his limbs, he was more lumbering than graceful.

cyclone managed a neat pirouette out of his grasp, and then did the unexpected - she flung the antler away. imrathil gazed to her in awe, his surprise delaying his reaction time.

well shit -- she was fast -- he lunged right after her, but was too slow. game to keep trying regardless of his failures, imrathil issued a gruff yet playful growl and lightly nipped at cyclone's receding hocks.

The light and playful touch of teeth on her hind legs spurred her forward faster, and soon she had the antler in her possession again. This time, she made it easier for him and shook the antler from side to side, letting it dance right in front of his face. Cyclone wouldn't make it too easy, though. If and when he went for it, she would most certainly pull it back, though her efforts would likely be easy for him to keep up with, provided he was paying at least some attention to what she was doing. Because this was play, things were more fun when there was some back and forth in who was "winning."

his teeth managed some contact, though it was brief and tempered — eliciting a bolt of energy from his darkened companion. he struggled to keep her pace, and as she nimbly scooped the antler up and toyingly presented it, imrathil lunged. 

his first attempt was clumsy enough that cyclone easily evaded him, but he tried again — and this time his teeth hooked around hardened antler. 

unfortunately, one of the tines smacked him right in the face as he wrenched back, and imrathil immediately released it with a pained yelp. he scooted back in an ungainly manner, readying himself for a third attempt — only this time he learned his lesson and went for a careful nip of a forelimb over introducing his face to pointed objects.

Oops. She hadn't meant to try and take his eye out, and for a second, she paused, making sure his face wasn't marred by the shaking of the antler. He took that opportunity to nip at her forelimb, which caused her to scoot back when he made contact, and she dropped the toy in the process. Instead of going straight for it, she hesitated, giving him plenty of opportunity to grab it for himself.

You're cute, she said then, her voice full of mirth.

he had gone for flesh instead, but seeing the antler released and free of wrestling teeth, imrathil dove for the antler just in time to be handed.. a compliment..?

he froze, blinking in surprise. around him the wind stirred his fur, hustling between the two souls like a raspy wintry melody that carried cyclone’s words in crisp clarity. 

abruptly he dropped the antler, and it clattered to his feet in a constellation of misty snow. with his ears splayed to the side in slight unease, imrathil spoke. i — ummm.. he was pathetic, truly pathetic — thanks... you... too? what’s your name?

He dropped the antler, and for a brief moment, she wondered if she had offended him in some way. How she could offend somebody by telling them they were cute, she did not know. Nevertheless, he seemed to hesitantly accept her compliment, returning it with the same amount of unease.

Cyclone, she replied easily, glancing down at the antler only as something to remove her eyes from him for a little while. Her grey eyes returned to him quickly, and she asked the obvious follow-up question. What's yours?

imrathil relaxed slightly as cyclone pulled her gaze from him to look upon the antler; it looked discarded, sitting there in the snow -- it made him frown quietly to himself.

cyclone. he liked the name. it fit her well, he decided -- the way she had just stormed into his life, free of any social implications and heedless of any consequence. he wondered if his name -- the name wardruna gave him -- was so befitting. likely not, as it seemed as foreign in his mind as it did on the tongue.

he labored for a response, his eyes briefly stirred with distress. truth be told, imrathil did not remember his real name -- or much at all beyond what wardruna had transcribed to him. "imrathil." his tone seemed to suggest a hollowness to his answer, and he wanted to blurt out he didn't know, he didn't remember, but cyclone was just a stranger and he knew that oversharing was often the quickest way to tell a stranger to turn quickly on their heels.

he settled for something else then, quietly admitting: "i'm.. uh.. lost." he glanced to the ground, feeling a little silly -- he was an adult, did adults really get lost? "i was traveling with someone but, i don't know where he went and i can't find him. are you part of a pack?"

It was a pretty name. Delicate and cute, befitting of the wolf it belonged to. Imrathil had lost his way, apparently abandoned by whomever he was traveling with. Cyclone frowned, wondering what would possess somebody to do that. Then again, she had abandoned countless packs... she was more of a hypocrite than she would (hopefully) ever let on.

Sort of, she replied, I'm gathering recruits to form a pack. Cyclone paused, looking him over again. She let those words sink in, allowing him to comprehend them and hopefully take the bait.

imrathil had waited with breath held, holding onto the hope that cyclone might have either seen his friend, or have packmates besides her. and while she revealed she had neither of these things, imrathil was not left hopeless, for cyclone elaborated on her own intentions to form a pack. 

something buried under layers of tired synapses and foggy memories stirred — for a brief glimpse imrathil recalled a misty beach, and a grey wolf saying something very similar before it too, faded away. his brow creased but he remained curious, his gaze lifting hopefully. can i go with you? his tone was plaintive — almost baldly pathetic — but imrathil had always been a poor loner.

"Can I go with you?" he said, and Cyclone grinned. Of course, silly! I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise. I've got a couple of others—Vyn and Dashiell—and I'm sure they'd love to meet you. She meant that, too. She would not have extended the offer if she did not think they would all get along. Starting small was the only way Libertine Coterie was going to come about. Slow and steady would win the... pack?

Here, she said, picking up the antler and tossing to his feet. That's for you to remember me by.

imrathil had not been aware he had been holding his breath as he awaited cyclone's verdict to his pathetic question. when she affirmed brightly, he exhaled in visible relief. he did not want to spend the rest of winter alone -- and he missed wardruna terribly, but had searched with little success for the guardian, and had gradually come to accept that perhaps wardruna had... well... gone.

he was jolted from his thoughts by the antler, which was flung towards his feet. springing carefully out of the way, imrathil scooped up the antler in his teeth and dutifully followed after the new tempest he had tethered himself to.