Silvertip Mountain Guide me great wisdom

Backdating to March 23 after this thread. Calling @Comet

Where to start, where to start? Well he had started by hashing out a plan with Bindi and now he had to put it into action. He made his way to the borders and then stared out across the wilderness as if some magic would lend him eagle-eye and allow him to pinpoint exactly where he had to go. He wanted to set off straight away but he couldn't be sure which direction she had gone. The wind was already fluffing up the scent, spiralling it left right and centre like Grandmother Willow's leaves.

"Where did you go?" he asked, his voice having none of the venom in it that it would have had only five minutes ago. He knew what had to happen and he was ready to do whatever it took. Those pups had to be born on the mountain, he couldn't explain why that was important - it just was. FitzDutiful didn't know much about childbirth, labour, term or any of these mystical woman things but Raissa had explained to him that it was three weeks away. He was pretty sure she needed to be resting, needed to take care of herself but he had to figure out how to explain this to her and not make her hurt.

Time for the old FitzDutiful to return.

His white feathers were barred brown so dark he looked like he had zebra patterning. Only his ash-grey face, bordered by black, shunned the pattern in this morning light. Comet shifted one wing and clacked his beak quietly together from his perch atop a small spire of rock. He was safely out of distance should this beast decide it wanted a new type of fowl for dinner. Comet felt rather smug and shuffled his feet, lost his footing with one, and almost fell. Cursing inwardly, he hastened to right himself -only spreading his wings wide kept his balance.

Just as he managed to regain his composure, Comet heard those words thrown into the barren surroundings by a voice which could only be described as lost. Feeling a bit guilty for his smugness on the topic of dinner-thoughts, Comet realised that this wolf wasn't hunting. He was currently situated behind the wolf, which was glowing an ethereal white below him. It had stopped in its prowling, and whatever it had lost was nowhere to be seen.

Wondering if perhaps FitzDutiful had lost a hatchling, the owl felt sympathy flood his veins. He had not yet had a nest of his own but he was eager to start one.
Near-silent, he spread his wings again, and this time allowed himself to topple from the perch and glide over Fitz's large head, swing by in a large half-loop, then drop to nestle on the ground ahead of the wolf. Comet cleared his throat and spoke, taking advantage of the surprise of his entrance to get his piece in before he was pounced on "Have you lost your son or daughter? I could help you look...?"
 
He didn't settle his wings along his sides, instead keeping them spread aloft to their full wingspan, so that he could make a hasty retreat if the Alpha was not in a friendly mood.

If Comet had thought he was the one that was about to get jumped, he was in for a shock and FitzDutiful leaped into the air and flung himself backwards. He had felt a shadow pass over his head but thought nothing of it. He hadn't wanted food so why would he be looking for birds. The last thing he had expected was one to land in front of him and... talk to him. Maybe he should stop hunting birds if they spoke too. There was something disturbing about eating something you spoke to.

"I... um" he was lost for words. He looked around, just to be sure there wasn't a wolf pulling a prank on him and the bird wasn't there by chance. He couldn't see anyone and so he took a very cautious step closer. "You... are talking... to me?" he felt a need to clarify before the bird's question was answered.

Presumably it was answered affirmatively and FitzDutiful nodded to answer his question. "You could say that. My mate has run off. She's heavily pregnant with out children and realy should be at home relaxing. I think pregnancy made her hormones a bit funny but we were going to work it out. She disappeared last night so maybe she is sleep walking." Deny the truth. Do not think the truth and guilt cannot be interpreted.

The wolf looked positively nonplussed to see an owl talk. Comet deduced that this was not one of the wolves that would attempt to tear him limb from limb, wing from wing. It asked a question and he nodded with a secure dip of his head, intending to hear out the answer to his question, rather than interrupt the flow. Most birds could talk, however little flitty ones like sparrows and tits tended to jabber nonsense and fluster about being eaten, whilst magpies and ravens spoke in riddles and kept to themselves. At least, in Comet's humble opinion.

The black-tipped ears of the wolf twitched backwards with concern as he divulged the truth to his panic - a pregnant mate gone from his lands! No wonder he was so lost. "Why didn't you say!" the words burst from his beak unbidden (ridiculous, since Fitz had just said) "we must find her! What time did she leave - do you know? Have you found her scent? Shall I scout from the sky? What does she look like?" He sang all of this to Fitz in one long, breathy monologue without giving room for answer until he had finished. His wing-tips fluttered eagerly.  Once he knew what this wolf looked like he could scout for her, and then they would move a step closer to getting her and the eggs back to her nest.

Of course, he had seen slightly older pups rough-housing once they were allowed to leave their dens, but it didn't cross his mind that they did not start out as shelled eggs buried deep within the ground.

Wow, this bird sure had a lot of things to say. FitzDutiful was taken aback by the amount of questions that he had it was - odd. He had once heard the phrase "wise like an owl". He didn't know what an owl was but if this was one then it was no wonder. FitzDutiful had learnt himself that asking questions what the key to knowledge and this creature sure must gather a lot of it. Time to answer them all. 

What time - "During the night I think! She was there when I went to sleep but gone by morning." - Her scent - "I was following her scent but I lost it here." - Scout from the sky - "Yes please! Any help you can give me would be amazing." - Her looks - here he faltered ever so slightly. He recalled the colours as best he could. "She's a variety of browns, mottled. She's got orange eyes and pregnant, so her stomach could be described as swollen and round." It was the best he could do right now, surely it was enough!

He wasn't sure how the bird would do at scouting - how far could the male fly? "I was going to head to the river and see if I could pick anything up there." He wasn't sure whether it was better to have the bird fly with him there and check the other side in case she had gone to Blacktail Deer Plateau, or for the bird to head in a different direction entirely. Whatever Comet wanted to do, FitzDutiful would go along with.

The white and black wolf answered promptly. All ears, the owl listened over the frantic beating of his own heart. When Fitz had finished, Comet cocked his head to one side. So she must have been here recently but her scent had vanished. Somewhat worrying. Perhaps in a mad frenzy she had decided to run away from the world and hide her tracks? Or perhaps this wolf had a lacklustre nose. Or maybe it was simply the weather had washed her tracks away too swiftly for action.

"The river is a good idea - she could have wanted a drink or a bath" he whistled in agreement, conceding the wolf's stout plan of action. "If I fly overhead and circle, I can look out for her from the sky, and you can look under bushes and... rocks and things" or whatever wolves did when they were normally tracking.

Without waiting for an answer, Comet hopped and flapped his wings downwards with ungodly strength, rising clumsily into the air from a standstill. "We'll reconvene at the river edge over there!" He tipped one wing in the direction he meant and set off, eyes peeled for a pot-bellied brown wolf. He noted that FitzDutiful's verbal description had ended up giving him a vision of a pig dirty from wallowing in mud, rather than the beautiful mate she likely was. Obviously the man's flustered, despairing brain was on the edge of madness due to his beloved's disappearance.

Even if Fitz ended up somewhere else down the river edge than the bird intended, Comet could spot him from the air with ease.

Unaware that Comet didn't have a clue who he was actually looking for, FitzDutiful set out as the bird took to the sky. It had seemed a rather unsteady take-off and he didn't want to be anywhere near in case the bird fell back to earth again. How they managed to keep themselves in the air in the first place was unknown to him and it was a rather odd, scary, mystery. FitzDutiful preferred having his feet firmly on the ground.

Racing, he rushed to White Fish River as fast as his feet would carry him. He looked around, searching under the bushes and running his nose and tongue over various rocks and stones. There was no sign of her. It was highly possible that he had just gone in the complete wrong direction. He had expected some whiff of scent, some indication of the direction she had gone in. A paw print, a broken twig, anything to help him track but it appeared nothing was going to be all they caught.

His eyes turned to the sky, looking for where the bird was. Which part of the river edge had he wanted to meet up at? There was so much of it and the gesture had been so vaguely that FitzDutiful just stayed put, hoping that the bird's memory was as long as theirs and he wouldn't forget the mission they were on. Maybe Comet had seen something from up high.

The owl hesitated overhead, checking whilst he hovered, large eyes peering down. He moved off, checking here and there for the pregnant wolf. The benefits of being an owl were that he could see minute detail - in particular movement - from a great distance. Unfortunately for FitzDutiful, no movement was to be found. Comet flew further out than he had intended, but still he saw nothing, not even a speck on the horizon.

With a sigh, he wheeled around and headed back to the river. A couple of minutes' easy flight and he could see the white male standing near the river edge. Comet swooped down in a slow, direct path towards Fitz. He landed on the ground nearby, and this time neatly folded his barred wings against his boy.

"Sorry, mate. I can't see her anywhere. I'll keep looking on my way home tonight. I live in The Heartwood" His brows furrowed slightly as he took in the wolf's dishevelled appearance. "Are you hungry?" He didn't want to point out how much Fitz looked like he needed a rest - he doubted he would be able to relax in the same situation - but he didn't really want this newfound acquaintance dying of exhaustion before he even located his mate.

Squee! Lovely thread <3

It appeared that Comet's search had also been unsuccessful and FitzDutiful visibly sagged under the news. Maybe he had just gone in the wrong direction. He would return to the inner borders for safety and then head out towards Neverwinter Forest later. He was about to say this when the bird mentioned hunger. He began to shake his head when his stomach let out a loud grumble.

"I guess I am," he replied sheepishly. "We have some food in the pack lands from our last hunt. I'll head home and get some before trying again a bit later. Thank you so much for your help." He looked at the bird, sadness in his eyes and turned beginning a slow walk back to his lands. On the way he internally raged at Raissa and everything she was putting him through. It was enough to put him off having another mate and children for the rest of his life.

The owl gave a chirrup of laughter when FitzDutiful attempted to say he didn't want food, only for his stomach to answer first. It was clear the wolf needed a rest, and when he mentioned having a cache in his packlands Comet nodded.

The wolf left with little hesitation, clearly eager to be off and looking for his mate once more. Comet watched him go sadly, until the tail-tip disappeared around a bend in the path. The small bird took flight, catching air rivulets beneath his feathers until he was so high he could only catch sight of the wolf below as a speck.

Wheeling around he let out sharp caw of good luck, then sped for home at his usual ungainly pace, where his Gwyniver would be thankfully waiting.