Sleepy Fox Hollow beschwerde

a foul mood had engulfed the general that morning, spat from the ashes that still smouldered after his cruel interlude with the dove.
it had begun with a failed pika hunt, followed by a fall to his chest within a hidden drift. dragging himself from the cold morass had taken a great deal of strength; he had gotten upon a patrol only to find a pair of coyotes had ravaged a far cache.
hackles upflung and face set into more stony an expression than usual, mahler sought to isolate himself until the anger passed, unwilling to take it out upon any who might approach — the clear bristle of his imposing figure should ward away any would-be conversationalists.

Mahler's mood was as clear as day when Maegi came across him while traveling one of the well-trod fox trails toward a cache she had started. She offered him a small smile but kept her distance, instead affecting great interest in a pile of aromatic pinecones nearby. She brought her nose to the ground, inhaling their pungency.

Despite sorely missing her forest, there were things to like about the hollow. It was beautiful, even in the cold and barren winter. She could only imagine how wonderful it would look in full spring—or how many herbs would be on offer then. It was, at least, something to look forward to.

In the meantime, Maegi kept one eye trained on the General, watching him pace. They hadn't had a chance to speak since she arrived, and it wasn't something she had been relishing. . .but it was perhaps something that needed to happen, eventually. Much had changed.

in the moments before he spotted the pale young princess, mahler had nursed himself back to so semblance of his usual nature by watching a pair of wood doves coo softly to one another. the sight calmed him, reminded the man that life moved on despite all obstacles.
maegi was wise; she did not address mahler as she passed near, but busied herself with the coniferous throwings.
telling himself that he had been acting a foolish boy, mahler drew back the last of his irritation and drew closer with a few reluctant steps. but maegi had never taken from mahler; they had never quarreled. "how has diaspora been for you?" he asked after a moment, lavender stare lingering upon the young she-wolf.

His question brought her eyes up once more, meeting his (but not quite directly). Good, she responded, nodding. Everyone has been welcoming, and I think we're settling in well. Life went on. It had after the war, it had on the island, and now it would here, in the cradle of the mountains.

Maegi's gaze then met Mahler's fully, finding the frustration within the lavender depths. You once talked me out of a bad moment, she said, rising to her paws and taking a couple of hobbling steps toward him. It was incredibly helpful. Can I do the same for you?

She stood, face inscrutable as she waited for his reply—if it came. He was more than able (and welcome) to leave the scene, or tell her to get lost. That was his right here as leader.

for a long moment, mahler contemplated turning her away. there could be no advice offered here, not unless he wished to reveal the depth of his involvement with andraste or how deeply wylla's reappearance had unsettled him.
he decided instead to seize upon this moment as one in which he might bond further with maegi; inclining his head, he stepped to a footpath carved through the fallen needles beneath evergreen sprawl.
"i ... have hurt somevone. deeply. i acted rashly, and now i do not know how it can be mended," the general sighed into the cold air after he and the princess had trudged some way.

It took a few beats, but finally Mahler acquiesced, joining her in walking under the pines. Have you apologized for what you did? she asked softly, glancing over at him. That's a good first step if you haven't done so.

She let out a similar contemplative exhale, breath fogging before her. If you have, and they didn't accept. . . Maegi fell silent for a short time, mouth working silently as she tried to piece the words together. I know what it's like to hurt others, even when I didn't mean to. You can apologize, but that doesn't mean things will be better. Then you just have to live with it.

Maegi turned her full gaze to the General, frowning. I know that's not the best answer, nor anything you probably want to hear, she muttered, ears folding back slightly. Shyly, she returned her eyes to the path ahead, her awkward gait carrying them slowly along.

had he apologized, indeed! "ve ... vent our separate vays after harsh vords vere spoken," mahler clipped, staring straight ahead to avoid her surely coming look of judgement. but when it did not come, mahler sought to look at maegi, considering her own pensive bearing.
"it vas not a bad answer. i did not ask you to lie to me," he pointed out. the truth was a weight, but one he would rather carry than believe in deceit. he had dealt poorly with andraste, and he must mend the rift.
"perhaps you vould be a good counselor," he mused. she did not know healing, and did not seem to wish it. but she was quiet. introspective. something ruenna had been, but the pale princess was no substitute.
maegi was, in fact, far more knowlegeable for her flaws. and mahler appreciated that she made no pretense.

She couldn't fault his tactics; she'd done the same many times over. Still, she had found that owning up to her mistakes was a far better way to mend a relationship than running away from them. . .tempting as it may be. Maegi let her face relax and brighten a little as he spoke again, and then her countenance grew puzzled.

A counselor. . . she murmured, voice trailing off. A small stream of air left her nostrils, the ghost of a snort. I don't know. I've never been one to give good advice. Silence fell between them again, though not awkward or stilted. She thought for a moment on the matter before continuing.

I think I'm more of a teacher. I like helping others learn things, like history of the pack, or my faith. Maegi sighed, shaking her head. It doesn't fill the caches or keep the borders safe. But with my paw the way it is, I'll never be able to do much more than teach or preach.

And that was the crux of why Blackfeather Woods had failed. Religion mattered not when bellies were empty.

she disagreed, but it did little to dissuade mahler's opinion. until of course she elaborated, and he began to see how the role of teacher, of narrative-maker, fit the young melonii far better than confidant.
he had seen her gait, her foot — mahler understood in a small way what maegi meant. the worth of a wolf was often physical. but that did not mean she was aimless.
he enjoyed their interludes, and she had come to offer him support during a time where he was in need, though the gargoyle would not admit it. perhaps pride, perhaps fear of being vulnerable; it mattered not. she and he were here now, and mahler warmed to their discourse.
"those who carry the story of the pack carry our memories," mahler murmured after a beat.
"and for vhat it is vorth, maegi, you give sound reason."

She agreed with that, at least. The stories her family (those who had accepted her, anyway) had passed onto her were worth more than gold to her; she'd never let their words slip away. She kept them close, as well as her own stories, to pass down to her own children. Had done so already—

Would Sakhmet remember her words? Would she remember Maegi?

I appreciate that, she said mildly, mustering a smile. I think. . . I don't know. I try, at least. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they don't. And often, I get it really, really wrong. Much too often for her liking.

She looked at Mahler, hoping to get the spotlight off her and back onto his troubles. Do you think it's something that can be fixed? Maegi asked. That you might be able to heal things between you and the other wolf?

maegi tipped the trajectory of their conversation back to himself, but mahler mulled her first words over before his mind's eye. being wrong was the first step toward wisdom, but he found the idea of uttering that aloud far too patriarchal for his own liking.
that had the unfortunate effect of reminding him the difference in their ages. though maegi had lived much in her young life, mahler faced middle age with the coming summer, and she still danced upon the very precipice of womanhood.
"ah," the general grunted, looking before them. "i think perhaps it can be. but i think there is a chance i vill not be forgiven. and i think that maybe i do not deserve it."

Her face fell—she was too familiar with the concept of 'deserving it.' She tended to opt for not, that whatever happened, she had brought upon herself, either directly or inadvertently. Still, Maegi hated to see others walk down that path, even without knowing the situation.

Then maybe it's not even worth it to apologize, she responded, a little of the old pique of youth entering her tone. Unless it'll make you feel better. . . She shrugged. I tend to run away from my problems, Maegi added, smirking slightly. It works until they come back to haunt you.

And so many had come back to haunt her. She hoped for Mahler's sake that this ghost would rest easily.

Maegi glanced at him. Do you want it to be fixed between you? she asked, brows raised.

running away from anything was never how mahler had chosen to live his days. but as he considered what maegi had said, the subject of takiyok's love and his own avoidance rose within the gargoyle's mind.
placing the concept carefully upon an inner shelf, to be analyzed later, mahler nodded thoughtfully at his wise young companion.
"i do. ve have a future," he unveiled with a wry, joyless twist to his mouth. that was, if andraste would forgive the gargoyle the temper that had been expanding to harshly heating heights within him as of late.
half a mind to tell maegi all, mahler heeded the other portion and fell silent.

I see, Maegi replied, noting the unpleasant set of his face. She didn't really think about the future; more often, she was steeped in the past, of things gone right and things gone awry. When she reached a crossroads, she would make a decision then. 

But Mahler was different, obviously. It was nice to see a fresh perspective, nice to see someone actually ruminating upon the consequences of their actions. It endeared her to the general even more. 

Unsure of what to say, Maegi remained quiet for a few moments, after which she cocked her head and took a small sidestep, allowing herself to look at Mahler more directly. 

Is there anything I can do for you? she asked, slightly desperate to find ways to occupy her time in the hollow. Anything I can do for Diaspora?

mahler did not think that maegi would have returned a high view of him had she known how cruel he had been. it was unlike the man, and therefore the more jarring; mahler agonized over words spoken each day, lamenting that he could not remove them from the ears they had burned.
a long moment of his thoughtful lilac stare; the general seemed to rouse, shaken from his reverie.
"vould you care to come upon a patrol of the outside lands?" he murmured, extending to the young princess an invitation that was more formal than the situation demanded.

She nodded at his question, a genuine smile curving her lips once more. I would, she said with feeling, and came closer to the General. Her eyes cut sideways to meet his, a smaller glimmer of excitement within their two-toned depths. It would be good to patrol with Mahler, to get to better know the mountains.

Lead the way, Maegi added. Maybe this place could feel like home, after all.

I have another thread in the pipeline for youuuu — fade this one?

ofc! <3

a smile; onward he led, and for a long time the pair roved the lengthy patrol, speaking of many things and forever chasing the scarce scent of prey.