Thunder Dome Thunder Bringer

Maman needed him home. Chaudry could not ignore such a thing.

Should Tousaint wish to return, he was sure that he would. There was no sense in continuing to search for what was not lost.

The vale was his goal. His home, though it did not yet feel as though it was. Maman had done her best. Growth was slow, but she appeared confident and so he would be too. He could see the change in her. She had grown to be more assertive, her anxieties surrounding the ridge had lessened. Grandmere would be proud.

He could not help but miss his natal pack. His brother's, aunts, uncles, and cousins. He wondered if any of them may join him some day.

He sighed, shaking the thought from his head.

Earlier in the day, Hex had been muzzle-deep in the body of a mountain hare, looking for answers, when a particularly bold crow swept down and stole a piece of gut straight from the carcass. He watched as the corvid flew away, intestine trailing from its beak like a gaudy bit of pink ribbon. 

Thinking this a kind of omen, he followed. 

The Seer had been grappling with various emotions and thoughts over the past moon. The taking of Alasdair for a warrior; the closeness of Muskrat and Golden Eagle; the great hulking men who now called this place home. 

He felt he walked a fine line, commanding authority over them. How easy it would be to cast the shadow aside —

Before he knew it, Hex had lost complete track of the bird and now found himself upon the mountain that loomed over the Ridge. And as he fretted over behemoths in his own ranks, here one came straight up the path, headed his way.

As his vision cleared, he spotted a dark coated wolf stood in his path. Not far ahead, but not too close for comfort.

Taking in the scent, it was not hard to deduce their identity as a wolf of Shadow Ridge. He felt a twinge of irritation - habit built from his days in the mother pack. But maman did not wish to carry on with traditions that relied on intimidation. Chaudry would need to learn.

He flashed a smile at the man, and found himself calling out. Bonsoir, mon ami. You are from the ridge, yes? As he heard himself speak, he wondered for a moment if the lavender-eyed boy had rubbed off on him.

The words at first were unknown, but shifted eventually into a tongue he could understand. Hex's nostrils flared, trying to catch the scents upon the man's pelt. A traveler, at least recently. . .but underneath, the indistinguishable mark of the vale.

Yes, he replied, nodding brusquely. Which makes you my neighbor, I think. Even though you're on the wrong side of the Ridge for that.

It was a question couched in a casual remark, and a slight lift of his brows accompanied it. What was he doing over here, and why? Perhaps only making his way home. . .but the route to do so sparked a bit of alarm in him, regardless.

Of course, I have come from the coast. He stated. The statement was blunt, honest. I do not plan to intrude, maman would not be happy with me if I did.

Did this stranger mistake him for an idiot? Chaudry was a large wolf, yes, but he was not invincible. Should Montagne de Cigue wish to invade, he would not be sent alone.

Kind words and false smiles were never his strong suit. He was a blunt man in nature, maman says he took after his papa in that sense. Chaudry would not know, of course. The man was long dead.

What brings you away from the ridge?

Mmm, Hex remarked quietly, nodding along with the other's reply. I followed a crow. I thought it held a sign in its beak. I lost track of it and now. . .here I am.

The Seer gave the large grayscale man a once-over before glancing upward, as if seeking the bird once more. It was gone, though.

But they were here.

Hex raked his golden gaze over the gray behemoth, mouth quirked to one side in deep thought. I lost my maman when I was young, he replied, echoing the language Chaudry had used. What is yours like?

Searching for a sign? He thought such behaviour to be ridiculous. He kept these thoughts to himself, however.

She is our Matriarche. He responded. A strong woman, a true montagnian. He spoke with a clear pride. He had been told such things his whole life, but now he truly believed it.

I believe she has met your leader - Muskrat.

That didn't tell him much about the man's mother, but he let it bide. He instead nodded respectfully, but the expression turned sardonic when the other mentioned Muskrat—his leader.

We lead together, actually, Hex replied easily, smiling. She is our strength, and I am our spirit. And I've met your maman, too.

His eyes shot up and swiveled, seeking his crow. But the harbinger was long gone, and now he was here—but perhaps it was all meant to be. 

What brought you to the coast? he asked.

He blinked as though surprised when Hex responded. Really? My apologies, she did not make it out to be as such. Chaudry of course, had never met Muskrat. Anything he knew of the woman was through other's - though he would not say so.

Why had he gone to the coast? He would not say. A missing wolf was no business of this man. Ah, nothing important. Exploring outside the mountains is all. It was important knowledge for a mercenary. How else would he plan his attacks?

The attacks that maman would never allow him to carry out, he reminded himself.

Mm, okay, Hex replied, not finding much else of use in the man's words. Exploring, and so on. . .

I will return to my Ridge, he declared quietly, with a gentle bow toward Chaudry and a brief smile. Take care, all of you.

As soon as he'd appeared, the shadow departed, fleeting through the jagged trails of the mountains. The raven was long forgotten—or was it? Had it led Hex to know more about their neighbors?

Nevertheless, he wound up at his own border, panting.