days of greys

@Kaskara ~
Mid-afternoon, cloudy weather. PARDON THE RUST.

It had been raining most of the morning, but the showers had finally diminished within the past hour. Birdsong, in starkly bright and merry contrast to the grey pallor that hung drearily over the sodden landscape, tinkled down from misty treetops and plucked the nerves of the lanky black beast that ghosted beneath their dripping boughs. Their music irritated him, for it felt as if the notes just bounced around in his head and grew louder with each reverberation. However, the irately dismissive flick of an ear was the only indication he gave to his inner state as he made his way, for the first time in months, toward the scent of his own kind.

Though he was unsure of what to expect, he did not feel ready to deal with what was to come. However, the hunger that clawed at his belly left him little choice in the matter. He was a wraith of a wolf, all sharp angles and long, skinny limbs. His belly, once supple and full, curved grotesquely up toward his backbone, the knobs of which could be felt through the wet, black quills of his fur. He had been unsuccessful in his attempts to hunt down a meal on his own. Oh sure, he'd nabbed a squirrel here, a mouse there, but a wolf of his size could not survive on a mouthful every few days. He needed food. He needed support. He needed a pack.

The scent of claimed lands became stronger on the breeze. Not wanting to get too close, he stopped where he was and sent up a short howl alerting anyone nearby to his presence. Settling down to wait and hoping that his presence was not met with violence, he became aware of the rushing sound of water nearby -- a creek.

From the threat of Shadow on one paw and the ever-looming presence of the Sunspire, however dormant they might have seemed at the moment, life at the creek was never dull. Four pups had been born into their midst only yesterday and Kaskara had doubled her efforts to hunt for the mother and patrol the borders in turn. It was during a hunt that a howl rose from the nearest border. With an idle flick of her ear, Kaskara left the rabbit to its own devices and began the trek toward the sound and the wolf who awaited her there.

If she had been thinking of anything related to her life before the creek, she might have recognized him. If he had looked anything like himself, Kaskara might have seen the wolf that now sat gaunt and ghostly at her border. That was still very strange to say, her border. She was not alpha, but it was still her responsibility as beta and aspiring warden to intercept people here. As it stood now, however, the wolf that crouched before her looked sickly and strange, like a wolf who knocked on death's door and awaited a swift answer. His eyes were two-toned, much like hers, but there the similarities ended.

Kas could tell he had once been a wolf built of speed and agility rather than pure strength. The muscles that wasted beneath his dull black coat spoke of former fullness, of sleek power that had slowly faded away. Kaskara paused yards from him, her head held high, shoulders thrown back but relaxed, her bright eyes watching him carefully. She was not as versed in border greeting as her brother, but she knew the basics. "You call at Swiftcurrent Creek's borders. I am Kaskara, the beta. How may I help you?"

Fate and Irony, foul sisters that they were, together had a rather morbid sense of humor. Had either of them recognized the other, the situation might have turned out quite differently. Standing before him was the very female that, not so long ago, Atticus had driven from the pack he once led alongside his brother. But it was not Atticus who looked up at this exile of the Plateau; Petrichor saw a proud and beautiful she-wolf, draped in lush, silver-kissed hues of mocha and appraising him with eyes of fire, and he was humbled.

He pulled himself up in a sitting position, dipping his head down low in deference to her authority and keeping it there as he spoke. Perhaps the only recognizable piece of his former self was his voice, which came forth in its characteristic deep, husky timbre. "I seek a place to call home, my lady." He suddenly felt self-conscious; his appearance wasn't going to be much of a selling point for him, and it was embarrassing. "I am hungry, and it's costed me much of my strength. But I assure you I am healthy and intelligent, and willing to promise my loyalty to your leader."

His deference pleased her, though sent a flush of embarrassment through her stomach. It wasn't something she would easily grow accustomed to no matter how long she remained in this position of authority. She appreciated the respect that others gave her, but didn't know how to deal with the deference quite yet. Perhaps she never would.

The wolf's husky voice stirred some vague memory inside her, but she couldn't recall it with clarity. Instead of focussing on that, she turned her attention to the wolf at hand. He was gangly, tall and quite a bit thinner than he would normally be, with knobs of bone that stuck out along his spine. He spoke of being healthy, but it wasn't a picture of health that she saw before her. "Intelligence will be an asset here. However, your state of health concerns me."

After a moment's pause, she continued. "How many months have you been alone? We cannot afford to feed a sickly wolf who does not have the ability to pull his own weight after a time." Her mismatched eyes studied him for a moment longer, noting his demeanor, his stature, and his words. Together, they spoke of a wolf who had lived in a pack before. That would work in his favor. "After your recovery, what skills could you offer us?"

Her words were straightforward, but not harsh. She simply spoke matter-of-factly, painting the situation for him. They would trade their resources for a wolf of little value, at least for a period of time, and she needed to know what they would get in return. "What is your name?"

Her words were like hammerblows, but then again, had he really just expected to be accepted so easily? Something vague tickled the back of his consciousness. Something about this situation right now was familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Pushing it from his thoughts for the time being, he kept his attention focused on the lady with the burning gaze whose words cut through him like a blade, though she spoke with neither harshness nor cruelty. It was only the cold reality of them that stung so much -- he had let his isolation go on for far too long.

"My name," he said after a moment, deciding which questions to answer first, "is Petrichor. I have been on my own since the leaves still clung to the trees, resplendent in shades of fire and sunset -- like your eyes." He searched for answers to her questions, such as what his strengths and talents were, but the truth was that he simply didn't know. He had no memory of his life prior to his head wound. He didn't even remember getting the head injury. And the hardest part of his condition was that he didn't even know he had a condition -- he was completely unaware that there was a whole different life he'd forgotten about. So as he reached for answers that simply weren't there, it became apparent he was going to have to talk his way out of this because 'uhh, I dunno' certainly wasn't going to sweep her off her feet. "I'm not unhealthy or invalid, and I will pull my weight. You needn't worry about that. I don't even need time to recover. I've just missed too many meals, that's all. As for skills, well...I don't know how to toot my own horn without sounding like a pompous dick, but consider this -- I've survived, on my own, in winter without the support or protection of a pack. Even you yourself must know that's not easy. A weak wolf wouldn't have lived long enough to make it to your doorstep. I might look like hell, but give me a chance and I'll show you what I'm made of."

It was the most he had spoken aloud in quite some time. He hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until just now, and it surprised him. The look on his face just then probably gave it away, too.

Kaskara resisted the urge to snort at his comment about her eyes, though she definitely wanted to. She rarely received comments on her appearance, not because she was ugly or unseemly, but because she was usually seen as "one of the guys." It didn't bother her in the slightest, since it was something she had been accustomed to since childhood. However, when someone did give her a compliment, she was quick to ignore or skip over it in favor of other topics of conversation. Thankfully, there was plenty to talk about today.

He had been alone for a few months, then. Not long enough to lose his ability to hunt completely, but it seemed long enough to lose weight. The muscles that still clung to his frame would return quickly with proper rest and nutrition, or at least that's what her warrior's estimation predicted. "I appreciate your honesty, Petrichor, and your brevity. It isn't easy surviving alone, especially when winter is upon us, and I have to commend you for that. However, my alpha will want to meet you."

Kaskara made to lift her muzzle and howl, but noticed the deep-seated loneliness etched in his face, and thought better of it. Instead, she lowered her muzzle and watched him. "For now, I will accept you. We took down a deer recently, so we have plenty of meat in our caches. Come, let me show you." She swung her muzzle toward the packland, waiting for him to pick himself up and follow her. He looked forlorn and quite lonely, something that no wolf should feel, especially in the depths of winter.