ten feet under and upside down

Saskia's joining thread! Feel free to invade!

The sky was still dark when she woke, and though the day was humid and warm, it was as if the sun had been blocked out entirely. The storm must have worked its way through the coast. The girl was exhausted after another day of running, but she couldn't quit - not when he was out there, alone, and wounded. What if the storm had touched down and swallowed him up? The very thought was quickly banished, but Saskia felt a constriction in her throat that did not abate, even after a solid hour of wandering. She tried to focus on other things, on hopeful anecdotes, but her mind wandered. She had never been this far from home before; the trees had thinned out a day or so ago, leaving her exposed atop some cliffs, while the brooding ocean rocked haphazardly below. This was not what she had imagined when she thought of the sea - or of seeing it for the first time. The poor girl was out of her element. Every boom of the tide, or shift of the dark clouds overhead, or flash from the still-raging storm, made her quiver and hunch. She was hardly lady-like as she fought against the elements, tasting the salty rain and feeling the cold through her drenched coat. But if this is what it took to find her lost love, she would continue - heck, she couldn't exactly turn tail now.

When she made it to the tree line again, she was thoroughly frozen by the rain. It sluiced through the gaps in the canopy and sliced between the tree trunks, hardly any better than being out in the open. Still, she cowered in the mud, pressing herself against a well rooted tree with extensive branches; it afforded some shelter, meager though it was, and the girl quickly burrowed in to the soft soil. The feeling of mud upon her coat wasn't wholly new (she had siblings after all, and they loved to track mud through the den or at the very least, streak it through her pelt after a good bath); but the mud was slick and wet against her body. She tried to work her body in to a curled shape, to make a ball and keep the heat contained, but Saskia only managed to smear more mud across her snout and throat. It would have to do. All she needed now was to wait a few hours until the worst of the rain stopped - or at least eased - and she could be on her merry way.

"If I can find his scent again..." The girl mumbled to herself, and then swiftly shut her lips to the dirt as it dribbled in to her mouth. She reared her head back and - imitating one of her brothers - spat the wad of mud back out. This adventure was awful, why had she ever considered this to be a viable plan? "Should'a stayed home."

Although his home was partially in ruins, another part of it was still sheltered; it looked like the storm had raged through only part of the territories, and Charon was glad that he had chosen the correct side of the territories to hide out in. He had not yet seen what damage had been done to the eastern side of the territories, but it couldn't be any good.

Today was a particularly stormy day, yet Charon had left the pups in the care of others and the young Beta was making a patrol along the borders. As he looked to the skies, he noted to himself to make it a quick round, since they were darkening and he didn't want to get caught out in the midst of the storm again.

Soon rain began to fell down, and after Charon had rubbed his wet fur against a couple of trees and muddy patches, and had peed on another couple of trees, some fallen from the storm, he decided to head back to the rendezvous site to dry himself. The last days had taken much from the ten month old Charon, for they hadn't had much food and he'd needed to keep watch of the pups, comfort them when the storms were bothering them, and he'd been watchful as a Naturalist to make sure the storm didn't catch up on their new hiding place, too.

With his fur soaked completely, Charon galopped along the borders on his way back into the territories and to a dry place, when he noticed a curled up wolf at a nearby tree. "Hey!" he called through the rain, "What're you doing there?" It wasn't hard to guess what she was doing here -- but he had to ask something to get her attention.

It was colder in the mud than out of it, but Saskia couldn't bare to move an inch. She felt like the end was coming. That maybe if she didn't move, she would die - but at the same time, the poor girl knew that was silly. Her body was exhausted, and what made everything worse was the lethargy brought on by the cold. She drifted in a sort of.. Mindless stupor, and only shifted slightly when a voice carried to her over the sound of the rain.

"Wha..?" She muttered, tasting more mud. With a slight raise of her head she worked herself free of her tangled limbs, and then let her ears do the searching; listening for more of that voice, if there really was a beast out there. "What're you doing there?" Oh! Suddenly Saskia felt rejuvenated. Not entirely, mind you - but enough to pull herself partways out of the muddy imprint her body had made.

With a twist of her head and some squinting, she managed to make out the shape of another wolf. A pale thing, just as drenched as she was, but not nearly as muddy. "I'm..." Lost, she wanted to say. But as soon as her mouth opened, her teeth began to chatter anew. "I'm t-trying to st-tay warm." Well, it wasn't a lie. Squinting through the rain, she took a careful step towards the stranger and tried to raise her voice so he could hear her better: "What-t-t are you doing here?"

A small part of Charon felt empathic towards the girl when she seemed startled and said that she was trying to keep warm. But whatever, she shouldn't do it on his borders. He couldn't find any scents of a different pack on her, so he wasn't sure if she was a loner or not (then again, the rain could've washed any scents off), but she seemed pretty useless to Charon. Just all curled up, clattering her teeth; she looked like she was just waiting for death, or whatever.

Charon didn't even puff his tail or heighten his head; she was such a miserable heap of fur that he didn't really think he needed to assert his dominance anyway. "Here?" he asked sceptically. "This is Stavanger Bay. You're sitting on my borders." Charon figured he ought to make it clear that this was his pack, or she might think he was just another young guy who lived here. She needed to know he was one of its leaders.

"And I'm here patrolling my borders." It didn't really needed to be said after what he'd previously said, but he did so anyway. Charon's voice was filled with disapproval as he watched her. "We've got enough trouble as it is with the storms, so I don't want you snooping around my lands unless you're planning to make yourself useful."

Her question had been flippant, and stupid. Obviously this wasn't just any old wolf (he was actually kind of young, now that she looked at him properly), and his words confirmed her suspicions. This guy was part of a pack, and was higher up on the food chain. "Your p-p-p-pack -" She parroted, and then clamped her mouth shut. If Saskia couldn't speak clearly without stammering from the cold, there was no point in trying. The stranger continued to speak, and while he intimidated her with his demeanor, she worked her tongue over her teeth and gums to try and warm them up.

"We've got enough trouble as it is with the storms, so I don't want you snooping around my lands unless you're planning to make yourself useful." He said next, to which Saskia gave a little squeal (she'd bitten her tongue). With a tiny wince, and a throbbing sensation where the cold once was, it was time for her to take a leap. "I'm sorry. The storms, the rain it - it washed out the smells." But that was just a stupid excuse. She had done wrong, and had to pay for that. "I can be helpful! I c-can... Do whatever you want."

Well, that wasn't specific, but maybe it would hold his attention for a little longer. Saskia licked the chill from her lips and swallowed a mouthful of rain. "I'm a warrior," Yeah, like he'd believe that. "And a hunter. I c-can help feed your family." Both were lies, but she was desperate. Seeing how defensive and unhappy the stranger was when faced with a lone wolf, Saskia didn't expect to find any leniency here, especially after such a disaster had struck the lands.

She let out a sigh, and seemed to lose her spine, all at once. As she sank in the mud, her head bowed. "Look, I'm just... I need help. I'll die out here otherwise." Saskia lifted her head and watched the boy's face, and it was hard to tell if the rain was matting her fur or if those were tears sliding from her eyes. "Please."

Charon ignored her yelp and her excuses. He didn't care if the rain had washed away any scents; then maybe she just shouldn't have stepped near his lands at all. It was her fault, and he wouldn't fall for her trying to make it part of his problem. The Bay had enough problems as it were.

She then said that she could fight and hunt, to which Charon let out a laugh. She looked terrible, like she wouldn't be up to much anytime soon. Maybe with time she could dry up well and make herself useful; maybe. But that wasn't any guarantee she'd be a good pack wolf. It wouldn't give him any guarantees that she would do well.

Charon lifted his tail, opting for dominance even though there was little more submission the stranger could give than she already did. She said she needed help. That she'd die out there. Charon didn't care. Wasn't his problem a wolf couldn't take care of herself.

Then he got a brilliant idea.

"Alright, I'll save you," he casually said, holding his brows in a frown. "But there's a condition. You gotta do everything I say. You'll be my slave, my thrall. You can go wherever you want to and do whatever you want to, and you'll even have a rank in the pack, so it's not like you won't have any freedom. But you're not allowed to desert the pack, and if I call for you, you gotta be there and do as I say, and you can't ever speak ill of me to anyone. Do you understand that?" Charon wasn't a charitable wolf, and, despite his youth, he looked like he meant it. "If you agree to my terms, I'll get you somewhere dry with food right now. I'll take care of you in exchange for your sworn loyalty." His own fur was beginning to soak through, he realised as he spoke, his guard hairs fighting against the string of rain washing down on them, but they would not hold much longer. He hoped she'd say yes without arguing about terms such as an amount of time she needed to serve or certain demands she made, so they could finish this chapter -- and start a new one -- and get somewhere dry.

He may have been some mighty warrior for the pack, or someone of great importance, but as soon as he started talking again it was like any hope for friendship evaporated. The stranger wasn't someone to be revered. He was not kind. Saskia was slow to understand the terms he laid out before her. When understanding flooded her mind, she was appalled - and quite offended - that this so-called offer was on the table. She was wallowing in mud, drowning in rain, and lost from her home; this guy, whoever he was, didn't have a single decent bone in his body. A slave?

But, if there was no other choice...

"Fine. I accept." Her tone had changed. Saskia didn't sound so defeated now (perhaps because she was hopeful about her chances for the first time in days), but she didn't sound particularly happy. She took a shaky step towards the pale wolf and dipped her head, feeling rain flow across her throat as she did so, running from her back. "I, Saskia, swear my loyalty to you - to -" A slight lift of her snout, and she was peering at him carefully, waiting for him to name himself before they set out. If she was going to serve this boy, she'd best know his name.

Welcome to SB! :) I'll fix your rank. I hope you don't mind that Charon is a bit of an opportunist brat -- I'm actually much nicer OOC, so if you ever have any questions or run into problems, feel free to contact me about anything. :)

The taste of victory was sweet when she decided to pledge her loyalty to him. This was fantastic. Charon wanted a slave for quite some time -- ever since he and Atreyu first talked about it -- and now it seemed he'd finally found the leverage to get one. Perhaps a day would come that he'd come to regret his decision; but truthfully, he was sick of bratty subordinates and wolves that thought this was some sort of holiday resort they could just come to until they were all better, then leave. At least this one wouldn't get to leave, if she held herself to her oath.

"Charon Starchaser Ostrega, Beta of Stavanger Bay," Charon filled in. "Do you swear it, on your own life, that it may be taken from you if you ever break this oath?" His night blue eyes shone with pride, despite his washed away appearance due to the rain. The storm had taken half his home, but at the very least it had given him something in return: a thrall, someone that would be loyal to him.

I'm super excited to play them together (I imagine they'll have lots of time together if she's his thrall).

His name was a mouthful; she wondered how often he threw it around. Saskia gave a nod to the rest of his words, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment so that her gaze did not linger upon him. His tone was arrogant. She didn't like it, but there was no other way to survive this situation except to do as she was told. "Yes. I swear myself to you, on.." she swallowed the lump in her throat, "my life."

If she was his thrall, that meant young Saskia could not continue her search - but maybe a break was necessary. She had come this far, so the wounded man she had set her sights upon must not be far. He could even be part of this bay pack. 'No point in thinking about that now.' But she was suddenly homesick. "Do you.. Require something of me, or can I find somewhere t-to dry off? Get warm?" Her eyes narrowed as she asked, but only for a split second (as if she couldn't see him for the rain, when really, she didn't want to look upon him at all).

I'm glad! :) Me too -- and yeah, they probably will :D

The glint of victory never left the young Beta's eyes as Saskia swore on her own life that she would be faithful to Charon, although it would be hard to tell it was there at all through the rain that was pounding down on them. What luck that he had decided to scour the borders for the Gods knew what reasons (perhaps they had sent Saskia down here, Charon considered, although he'd never put much stuck into the Gods that Ragnar and Thistle followed) so that he found a thrall today, instead of a mangled corpse three days from now. The storms had decided to give him something in return for devouring part of his territory.

Saskia asked if she could go then, or if he required anything of her. Charon was itching to get somewhere dry, and he decided he'd take her someplace dry. For a moment he considered if he should give her some sort of marking so that everyone would know she was his, but a moment later the thought left his mind. If he would do such a thing, Charon would make sure to do it after she was all healthy again.

"Yes, let's get you somewhere dry," Charon said, and he gestured for Saskia to follow while he turned around and started to walk back into the forest. The rain was beginning to seep through his guard hairs now, and Charon shivered as he walked through the forest until they reached a place where fallen trees -- they looked like they'd been there for a long time -- had created a mossy shelter. It wasn't big, but it would do for now. Charon shook his fur as he reached the shelter and shivered. "We can get dry here. When did you last eat?" he asked Saskia, assuming she'd followed. He wasn't looking forward to going back out into the rain, but if it'd been a really long time ago, he might have to unearth some food in one of the stockpiles. There was one not very far from here if it was needed.

The rain wasn't going to ease anytime soon, so it would be best to find a safe and dry haven for the foreseeable future; Saskia hoped that this boy wouldn't require her to go hunting for one - she wasn't exactly in a fit state to prove her worth, this very moment. But he seemed knowledgeable, which eased some of Saskia's doubts towards him. 

For all she knew, he was making all of this stuff up in order to use her somehow.  As he began to lead her away, she gave a cursory look to the surrounding trees - wondering if she was indeed being set up - only to follow doggedly behind him, not wanting to disappoint. Whether he was just playing some game or not, she had sworn an oath.

Before long, they came upon a shelter made of fallen trees. It looked stable enough (actually, it looked rather homely, and she was charmed by it a little). He shook off and began to speak, and she slunk in after him - cautious because of her level of exhaustion more than true distrust of him. "Six.. Maybe seven days? I can't really remember." Saskia responded with a slight shrug, as she slumped her rear end down.

A whole week? Charon didn't show that he was startled when she disclosed that, although he should've been able to guess judging by the state she was in. He didn't ever remember not eating for that long... Well, maybe that one time when he'd gone to kick the Duskfire wolves' butts and had been attacked by that monster in Dawnlark... But it was so long ago now.

"Wait here, I'll get you some food," Charon instructed, and although he loathed going back into the rain, he knew he had to. Charon stared out into the rain with a frown on his face a moment longer, then took off towards one of the nearer stockpiles. He glanced over his shoulder briefly as he entered the rain, but it already clouded his vision too much to know for sure if she was still there. He imagined she was: what other choice did she have? She'd die if she went out there alone again.

The young Beta returned twenty minutes later with his paws and snout full of dirt and a stiff squirrel corpse between his teeth. He put down the food in front of Saskia - it wasn't much, but it was a start and would stop her from dying overnight, at least - and shook his fur. Charon sat down underneath their small shelter, shivering, hoping he'd get warm again soon while he stared out into the rain showers.

He left her alone in the shelter, and she contemplated things while waiting. Saskia thought of home more and more, and not the one she had abandoned for this journey - that one was ruined by its own storm (perhaps the same one that hit this coast) - but the idyllic place she was born. It was the same, but her memories of it were fonder; the great stone monuments, the red dust of the canyon walls, the thin forests and warm golden shrubs of the lowlands... It wasn't the same after the storm hit. The family wasn't the same. Maybe that was why she had left --

Charon arrived back quickly, carrying a meaty chunk of death warmed over. The squirrel did not look appetizing in the least, but as soon as the smell of its fur hit her nose, she set upon it. Pinning the carcass with her paws and working at the flesh with her front teeth, or chewing at the bony bits with the side of her mouth; it tasted foul, but the meal was over quickly. Saskia licked bits of old fur from her lips and, instinct-driven, rooted through the mossy earth with her snout as if to find more. Her belly was content, but not full.

"Thank you." She finally surmised, when the frenzy of hunger abated. There wasn't much else to do now but sit and wait for the weather to improve - and Saskia wasn't sure about how to pass the time. Trying to sleep with this stranger beside her would be difficult.

Charon watched as Saskia devoured the squirrel. She must've been hungry, not having eaten for such a long time. He wondered suddenly where she had come from and who she was. Without a thought he had made her his thrall, seeing an opportunity and seizing it, but he'd almost forgotten she was also just a wolf. He sat down and watched her eat a moment, before turning his gaze back to the rain outside.

After her thanks, Charon decided to just ask. He may as well; they were going to be out here a while before the rain would die down and he could show Saskia more of the territory. "Where are you from, anyway?" he asked casually, as though he wasn't her master and she was his slave, because he'd forced her into that position as her only way of survival. As though they were just two wolves seeking shelter and chatting.

She didn't feel comfortable sleeping, but as soon as the boy asked about her home, she felt an instantaneous discomfort there too. But there had to be a way to pass the time. She could just as easily lie to him - how would he know? Saskia shrugged after a moment of thought, and then as she too peered out at the dreary rain, began to tell him... Something.

"My parents lead a small pack outside of these wilds. My mother was a healer for a long time, and she found my dad one day, very injured. After nursing him back to good health, they had formed a bond." It was somewhat true; most of what Saskia outlined was from her own silly fantasy about a rogue who had traipsed in to the territory, the one she had followed - the one that had caused her to get lost here. But it was still true, to some degree. "The pack lives in the center of a canyon, and is flanked by a small creek. It's well hidden." Not that she worried for their safety, much.

"What about you? Is this your birthplace?"

Charon listened to Saskia's story, although it didn't interest him all that much. Seemed pretty standard. Wolves falling in love, birthing children, bla bla... The canyon thing was pretty cool though; as a Naturalist, he could at least admire that tidbit of information.

She asked him about his life then. He waited a moment, as if not sure what to tell, then nodded. "Yeah. My father and mother were Alphas. But my father died from a very painful illness before I was born, and then my mom was so struck with grief that she stepped down from leading the pack. When I was a couple months old my mum was ripped to shreds by a bear in front of my own eyes." He looked at Saskia, a sad shimmer in his eyes. "The new Alpha pair adopted me then." He didn't care that he wasn't telling the truth. It wasn't like it would hurt anyone, and it was better if she thought him even more impressive than he was -- and felt empathic towards him through his tragic youth.

She didn't kno hought expect as an answer, but surely did not expect the sad story she was fed. Initially the girl just thought, 'oh', and then became filled with an acute sadness. Her expression drew taut, then became a solemn frown. But when Charon mentioned the greusome death of his mother, Saskia changed. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes grew wide, and up came the squirrel. She hunches and turned away from him hastily, but the contents spilles forth. When the moment concluded, she licked her lips and cast an apologetic look towards him.

"Sorry..." such an experience was foreign to her, and the visual Charon created with his curt explanation was too much for her. "Thats... terrible." She surmised awkwardly, not sure of what else she could say. Her stomach felt queasy even after dispelling the squirrel (or perhaps because of her throwing up, she had no idea), and she felt intensely embarrassed for her display of a weak constitution. Saskia stared out at the rain as if nothing had happened - but she was sad for his loss more than anything. The thought of losing either of her parents was... Sickening.

Charon lifted his head and his ears fell back as he watched Saskia throw up the squirrel. He wondered if it was because she'd been gobbling it down so fast or if it was because of his story that it had come up again. "I'm not getting you a new one," Charon was quick to inform Saskia. "So if you're still hungry, you should just eat that." Charon hadn't eaten his own thrown-up since he was maybe a tiny puppy, but he wanted Saskia's to survive and there was no way in hell that he was going out into the rain again to get a new one. He'd heard stories of wolves who had eaten their own vomit to stay alive, so really, it shouldn't be too hard for her to.

Now Charon didn't really feel like sleeping anymore; at least not close to the remains of Saskia's meal. She apologised -- Charon wasn't sure if it was for the squirrel throw-up or what he'd (more or less) been through, not until she added that she thought it was terrible. While squirrel throw-up was pretty terrible, he assumed that she meant his story. "I was pretty young, but you don't forget those kind of things easily." Charon had perhaps not seen his mother get ripped to shreds by a bear, but he'd seen Atreyu get ripped to shreds by a bear.

Charon shuddered visibly as he thought back to that day, and visually imagined Atreyu's ragdoll body flying through the air minus one leg, a trail of blood flying through the air and the dead paw dangling from the bear's mouth...

Charon did not seem very happy with this turn of events, but his reaction paled in comparison to Saskia; she was hungry, sure, but not hungry enough to consume rancid half-digested squirrel meat. It had been hard enough to swallow it the first time around. That, and Charon's suggestion of eating it anyway as the pile of puke and hair sat steaming next to her, only made her empty stomach churn.

She was thankful when he moved beyond it, even if it was back to the tale about his mother. The girl gave a shallow nod despite not being able to fathom the affect of such an event. She had never lost anyone - let alone in such a gruesome manner - and she was still tongue-tied by her thoughts. Saskia flicked some dirt over the bilious squirrel chunks, and absently looked to Charon in time to notice his shuddering.

"At that age, you were probably a target. She saved you." she managed to mutter, trying to make light of an awful situation, but then Saskia felt a bit awkward. She had no right to speak of his mother at all, even if she was trying to help. Her ears flattened briefly. "She must have been very brave." And maybe that was where Charon's zeal came from; his desire to throw around his Beta status, to have thralls, all of that. Saskia didn't want to be a slave, but at least she had some vague understanding of her master now. It wouldn't be the worst situation.

Absently, Charon watched how Saskia hid the throw-up, piling sand over it. She'd better not keel over and die from starvation later tonight, he thought bitterly to himself, after taking his offer for some food in her stomach for granted and throwing it all up again. He knew eating throw-up wasn't a great prospect to most, but if it would keep you alive, you'd better just do it. He wasn't going to force her, though. It was her choice.

Charon didn't like how Saskia all went and blamed him for his mother's dead, sort of, by saying that he was the bear's target. The strange thing was that Charon hadn't even been there so he knew it wasn't true, and yet he felt personally offended by Saskia's suggestions. He didn't say anything about it directly, though. "She was," he just said. Then he lay down on the ground as he watched the rain patter down, feeling bitter all of a sudden. "I'm going to try and get some sleep." Charon turned away from Saskia with his head, and he stared at the rain for a while longer, until his eyelids eventually fell shut and he drifted off to sleep.

Evidently, she had said something wrong. The only remark the boy made after her comment was an agreement, and for a split second she thought she had done something good. Something that would, maybe, make him feel better about the events in his past. It was a dull hope that fizzled out as soon as Charon shifted position; he seemed to be unhappy, which made Saskia wary. But the boy turned away and stared off at the rain, clearly losing interest in the conversation, and she would let it end. After a minute or two of tense silence, she too turned away - curling in to a tight lump next to Charon, her tail dusting over her snout. The rain became white noise as she drifted through the early stages of sleep - but Saskia wouldn't fall completely asleep. Her mind was too busy reflecting on the conversation, fixated on the topic of bears and blood.

Fade?