Heron Lake Plateau nervous messed up marionette floating 'round on a prison ship

instinct told him to keep moving. he hadn't wanted to, not until he woke one morning to the memory of a sweet scent which he could not place, and not until that memory sent him down a dark and forbidden path somewhere deep in his mind.
he walked, no, it was more of a trudge. something told him he should search, and yet at the same time he felt as though there was nothing to search for. his wife was gone. he couldn't hear her voice in his head no matter how hard he tried.
he has been here before. how long was he gone?
his path is as aimless as if he were a headless chicken, but he doesn't stop until the treeline breaks and he can see the sun clearly for the first time in weeks. it hurts his eyes. he hisses and moves to growl at it as if that would do anything.
the lake is nice, he decides. it's all about the little things. his footsteps create clouds of russet, and he can feel the pebbles between his toes.
he glances down at his reflection in the lake and realizes that he cannot recognize himself. when had he gotten so old? when had he gotten so tired?
he wished he could take his son here.

Njord hunted for his family. The Copse was fertile and green, but the good weather tempted the man to range farther than their territory. He enjoyed the late Spring breeze, and sunshine on his back as he tracked game… and made a mental note to bring Skipjack and Otter beyond their range, someday, so they could experience the diverse wonder that the Hinterlands contained.

Parched, he set off for the Western Lake. As a prominent water source for the area, Njord had no doubt does and their fawns would be drawn there.

He approached the shore and was about to take a drink when he realized there was another wolf about fifty yards down the bank looking at the water. Was he fishing? Was this a Strath wolf?

Njord exercised some caution, in case this stranger wasn’t alone. He maintained distance, but chuffed and gave a wave of his flag-red tail.

The longer she refrained from returning, the more worried Meerkat would become, Towhee knew, but she needed time to marshal her thoughts before she returned to the copse with news of Swordfish. She couldn’t keep it to herself. It was out of the question. Yet she dreaded the conversation with her daughter and Njord. The joy of knowing their son was alive would surely be eclipsed by the knowledge he still hadn’t come home…

Today, she rested beside the graves of her sister and her familiar on the little island in Heron Lake, drowsing in the shade to escape the midday heat. The sound of footsteps on the far shore didn’t disturb her, of course, but a fly biting her hindquarters definitely did. She jumped up with a little yell, bending in half to soothe the bite with a few passes of her tongue.

When she straightened, she saw the two figures across the way, a few dozen yards away from each other. One was familiar—she started a little before waving at Njord—but the other was a stranger. Towhee paused for a beat to ascertain him before wading into the water and swimming her way to join her son-in-law.

She stepped out of the water between him and the stranger, pivoting to stand astride him, her secret weighing heavily on her heart even though now was not the time to impart it.

when was the last time boone had seen another wolf?
the man was a bit older, wrought with scarring much in the same way he himself was. and then a woman, one he hadn't noticed before, peeling out of the water to join him. he tries his best not to stare. he's suddenly aware of how insane he must look right now.
in response to their lingering presence, boone pushes a reserved smile to his face, tail held low against his heels. this yer land? i don't mean no trouble, he tries to call out, but his voice audibly cracks from lack of use and fizzles down to a normal volume. was just checkin' out the fish.
you used to be a leader, the memories whisper to him; you used to have your own land. but where was it? where was his wife? his head throbs and he tries to hide it by pretending the sun is merely too bright.
a pang of recognition jolts through his chest as he realizes just how alone he is.

It was obvious the male had a rough go at life. He was large and stocky… but his terrific frame was painted with old scars and he had a… disheveled, forlorn look. An imaginative wolf would have found it easy to conjure several backstories for this solitary wanderer… and though Njord wished to know his full story immediately, he had enough wisdom to know that rusted doors were not easy to pry.

Njord was surprised to find Towhee as well! Meerkat’s mother had been away for a few weeks, and they had begun to worry. The Redhawk matriarch swam towards them and docked at the shore.

The stranger had an interesting accent – it was musical with considerable drawl.

“Nay,” Njord responded with a shake of his head. The stranger offered a kindly smile which made the Laird’s expression soften. “This land’s nae claimed. Just passin’ through, huntin’,” he explained.

“My family lives in Sun Mote Copse, East of here,” he continued. “M’names Njord Sveijarn-Corten. And this is my mother-in-law,” he passed the baton to Towhee, one eyebrow raised as if to ask, what adventures have you been up to now?

She fixed her attention upon the stranger, a brawny man salted with scars. Towhee’s orange eyes flitted over a few of them before glancing at his face, noting his deep chestnut eyes. He said something, though one of her ears bent backward uneasily when she realized this was one of those times—one of those people—she wouldn’t be able to understand well, for whatever reason.

Her gaze shifted to Njord, hoping he would say something that would give her some context clues. It seemed the imposing man worried that he was trespassing. The laird quickly assuaged this concern, then provided introductions. Towhee shot him a grateful smile, maneuvering herself so she could keep eyes on both men at once.

-“I’m deaf and didn’t catch what you said,”- she told the stranger. -“Actually, I don’t want to be a burden on the conversation, so I’m going to step aside and let you two chat. I’ll wait at the foot of the plateau so we can walk home together,”- Towhee said directly to Njord before nodding her head at the stranger and gliding away to find her post.

it was neutral ground. boone visibly eases somewhat, exhaling a phew sound. he speaks to njord of sun mote copse, and the nameless woman is his mother-in-law. his chest flutters; my wife, my wife, my wife; and he reaches up to wipe a brow with a wrist, only to remember he was standing in water as a cold splash hit his forehead.
the strange woman was deaf. it's no trouble, ma'am, he makes an audible effort to mask his accent now, speaking clearer so that she may possibly understand him. name's boone. just, ah-- just passin' through.
his eyes lower back down to the water, and he watches as a fleet of geese glide down. been campin' out over by that crick down that way. hope i'm not botherin' you, or nothin', he is sheepish, oddly so. his ears flatten to his head. didn't know there were folks livin' out here.
he didn't know where here even was.

Njord thought it was unlike Towhee to dip out of a conversation. Usually, she loved being in everybody’s business…. Odd, Njord thought to himself. Yet the Laird let his mother-in-law slip away without a fuss. “I willnae be long,” he promised her.

The stranger offered a polite word and introduced himself as Boone. “There arenae many clans in the Hinterlands,” Njord agreed. “Just us… though a group has been settlin’ somewhere near tha Strath,” he advised. “Tis a quiet region. An’ verrae beautiful.” Njord’s pelagic gaze looked across the blue lake and the vibrant greenery beyond.

“Where are ye travelin’ from?” he wondered aloud. “It’s been a while since I’ve traveled far. Do ye bring news from the outside?” he asked. What was life like in the great beyond?

the hinterlands.
his ears ring with the sound of unspoken familiarity. he swallows dryly, nodding in agreement with the man. i'm fond of this here lake. good place to sit and think, y'know? maybe it'll make a good home.
a home in which no one but him would live. his heart burns.
to be honest with you, man, boone's ears flatten as his brows knit together in a display of something like shame. he lets out a sharp sigh as his head shakes, slow and smooth as molasses. i, um, i'onno. i just kinda... woke up one day and started walkin', and now i'm here. i feel like i've been out here before, but that's-- that's crazy, right?