Blacktail Deer Plateau buried in the dark

@Saena - being vague about his previous thread as it is ongoing and empty. Also this is a lot of bleh, so you can ignore the majority of it. He's tired and hungry and looking for a place to rest for the night.

The feeling of fleeing the Neverwinter Forest was both liberating and depressing. He couldn't quite decide on how to feel, and chose instead to compartmentalize what had occurred. Tryphon would deal with the encounter later. He hollowed himself out as he moved, letting names and faces slide from his mind as he threw himself into a run. It was not a common sight, seeing Tryphon out and about with such gusto; he wished to be away from the memories, and so away he would go.

As the boy moved south he caught the scent of a herd, or of something, and the hunger in him won out. His path veered eastward for a few miles. He did not hide his presence as he once did, knowing that this herd would not be the same one he had spent weeks tracking. They would be frightful creatures. Their offense to his very presence would likely lead to a failed hunt, but Tryphon was desperate — he was always desperate.

He found patches of dead grass bitten down to the root in some places. Patches of grass which had been flattened by the boxy bodies of deer or elk, or some kind of ungulate. He followed the trail they left in their wake with their hungry mouths, and eventually his route took him northward alongside a hastily flowing river. Tryphon was deterred by the water the same way he was deterred by the sea. The scent of it, the sound, it did not sooth him but rather, caused such agitation that he lost the trail of the herd on more than one occasion. 

The river thinned as the earth rolled, becoming undulated with hills (and punctuated with a vague sulfuric scent, how strange). The herd was nowhere to be found, but at least the river had quieted down. Tryphon had lost himself to his anxiety once again. With the absence of the river's rushing waters to fill his ears he was made acutely aware of his pounding heart and ragged breathing — he had been running too hard. 

Around him was a crown of mountains; with the return of his Eeyore-slouch and lethargic gait, Tryphon began to work his way up the ridge and on to the plateau, if only so he could have a nice view as the evening began to fall.

When was the last time she was here? Saena didn't remember. She could hardly recognize the overgrown paths that wound through the forest, and the den with its dark spot on the floor felt like somewhere forbidden when she poked her head into it. The gap in the stone at the back of the den was left alone. She remembered falling back there with Junior once, but she was too large to fit behind it now, so there was nothing worth investigating. She drew away from it after spending only a minute longer at it. She could recall that the den was a significant place, but other details surrounding it were unavailable to her, so she moved on.

She eventually emerged from the forest near to where the plateau rose highest, an outcropping that jutted out to shadow the river below. It was from here that she spotted the climbing Tryphon, and without much hesitation, for Saena was feeling strangely alone in her birthplace, she began to pick her way along the lip of the plateau toward him. She kept her body language as neutral as possible, even going so far as to be slightly deferential with a wolfish grin and ears that pulled back along her skull; she'd learned recently of the more dynamic nature of dominance that came with putting her emotional arrogance aside and embracing the wild and her instincts, and now knew the value of adapting to the situation. She was an ambitious creature, there was no doubt of that, but that didn't mean she needed to stand above others at all times. It bred contempt, she understood now, and mistrust.

Showing some healthy respect in the form of situational deference was no doubt a better way to win a wolf's trust than trying to dominate them when no dominance was called for, she figured. "Were you part of the pack that used to be here, too?" she called out. She'd never seen a wolf who looked quite like Tryphon, a hard muscled creature with a strangely disarming golden mask, but she'd been away from the Blacktail pack long before they moved to Donnelaith. She could only wonder if he'd previously run with the wolves she'd once called family.

Sorry I think I wrote a novel. No need to match, I just got a weird burst of muse!

It was easier for him to traverse these craggy, pebble-strewn paths than initially thought; perhaps all that time spent on his own had paid off in some way? He was no longer the chubby little boy afraid of his own shadow. Unable to run without feeling the girth of his belly against the ground, or the burn in the back of his throat from the mere thought of motion. Now, having long ago passed from the awkward adolescent stage into one of prime adulthood (although Tryphon wouldn't ever be fully aware of this), the boy — the man — had become a jack-of-all-trades, more or less. He could handle the mountains, and the swamps, and the empty meadows. The forests made him nervous for some inexplicable reason — and really, his only remaining obstacle was his fear of the ocean. This place was not so frightening to him now that he had hardened himself.

If only he knew how closely he resembled his father in these moments. 

He caught his paw against a half-buried pile of shale as he climbed, and it tumbled down the ridge, pitter-pattering like sharp rain. Tryphon's ears turned as if to flatten when he heard it, but he pressed on. He wasn't sure if the plateau was what he sought (for the view of the stars) or if he should find some place more contained; his mind flashed to an image of an icey cavern and a pair of strangers looming over him — and in denying that memory, in not allowing it to take root, he made his decision to stay out in the open. Yet when he found his path winding higher and higher, he became skeptical of the sky above. It looked more moody the closer he got.

When a flash of movement pulled his attention down from the silver clouds, he almost got tangled in his own paws, but saved himself in time by gripping the ledge and leaning back; his ears shot forward as the pale stranger spoke, and while at first he was watching her with surprise and interest, he saw the flash of her teeth and ducked away from it, expecting some kind of assault. He may have inherited the body of a man and the spirit of the north, but not the dominance of his forgotten father.

At first he wasn't sure if he should say anything in regards to the question. Tryphon couldn't remember ever being here before, but that didn't mean much. He'd traveled extensively. But when he thought about it — and somewhat timidly glanced her way, almost apologetic for his knee-jerk reaction to such a deferential expression on her face — he could not recall ever belonging here, as one might expect from a family.

No, he finally droned, sullen but... There was something in his voice that was almost hopeful, or maybe just eager, that he could not hold back. Tryphon was not a social butterfly; he was barely a wolf. But he was compelled to turn the question back upon her, this curious woman who seemed just as eager for company as himself: What was it like? 

Truthfully he just wanted to hear her voice — any voice, or any sound — which would make this place seem less... empty.

It was Saena's time to visibly flinch. Tryphon's reaction, unexpectedly nervous as it was, in turn caused her to hesitate and flatten her red ears against her downy skull. She wobbled in place, with one paw half-extended in front of her, and tried to decide if she ought to anticipate a mild or aggressive reaction to having spooked him. Some wolves spoke first with their teeth, and she worried briefly that a man as hard as Tryphon looked might be the sort to do so.

But instead he uttered a sullen, no, and she slowly lowered her foot to the rough ground. The look the gold-masked man shot her way made her ears lift marginally, and Saena leaned forward a little at the shoulders as though to reveal herself better, but when he asked his question, she faltered. She had to mull over the answer for a few heartbeats before she could think of anything to say. Blacktail Deer Plateau was a distant memory, and she could say many things about the pack, but in the end, she settled for her last impression of it.

"Weak," she grated, and collected her limbs beneath her to sit neatly at the plateau's edge. She beckoned with a jerk of her snout, inviting Tryphon to join her. There was nothing better to do, at least not for her. "I was its heir once," she told him, "and would have led it, but it was governed by those who were too weak to uphold the natural order of the pack. In the end, I left, and in the end, so did they." She knew where the pack could be found, now, but rather savoured the idea that she could have saved what was originally here, somehow. "You seem like you've seen better days," she commented idly, but she had no idea of all the trials and tribulations he'd been through in his life, nor whether it would strike a nerve or not.

Her response made some sense to him. It did not sound idyllic, although any place with warm bodies and fresh meat seemed better than living alone, the way he did. Tryphon listened with a turned ear, but was too timid still to let his eyes trace across the woman's features; when she motioned for him to come closer he obeyed without thinking, and only slowed his pace after taking a few steps, as if reconnecting his mind with his body. He saw the motion with his peripheral vision and thereafter drifted over, and plopped himself down in a graceless manner nearby. There was still enough space for himself to feel comfortable; he did not wish to encroach, although a piece of Tryphon was glad to have company.

You seem like you've seen better days, the woman pointed out, to which Tryphon had no response. Not at first.

She was right, and wrong. Any day spent in the company of his shadow, Saghani, was better than any others. Whatever Tryphon had been through in his life — distant and forgotten, or etched forever in his memory — paled in comparison. But he was alone now. Saghani was not with him and he couldn't understand why. Her absence was a wound that continued to fester. He inhaled slowly, inflating with thoughts and pine-scented oxygen, and exhaled a thin puff of smoke — it dissipated, and he watched it, then returned to the conversation.

The wolf licked its lips as if preparing to reply, and then merely nodded. He wasn't sure what to say, and worried that if he did not say anything at all, she would leave him. It took a few moments before Tryphon began to speak, and it was with a slow drawl; some of the words crackled and squeaked as if the sounds within them had never been used before, indicating how long it had been since he'd spoken in-depth.

I was looking for someone, he admitted initially, and again licked his dry lips. But I don't think she.. She wants me to find her. Before her, I had nothing. And... I'm afraid... The words caught in his throat there, and he turned his yellowed gaze upon Saena with some trepidation, and they were filled with a great longing, a sadness. An unspoken truth he couldn't quite wrap his tongue around: Afraid I'll be alone again.

To rid himself of the hopeless feelings he now harbored, or rather had become fully aware of, Tryphon threw caution to the wind and abruptly lurched towards Saena. He did not do so maliciously, but seemed to fall forward from his seated position and had to brace himself, and then took an extra step so he could be a little bit closer to her. By straining his neck he could reach out to her with his nose, and he curiously — carefully — sniffed at the fur of her scruff, keeping his eyes wide and his senses alert in case she turned on him.

When he was satisfied, he withdrew slowly, like a snail into its shell.

Are you lonely? He asked then, wondering if she understood. He idly settled back into a droopy sphynx-like sprawl across the ledge.

Saena listened, offering an ear where maybe Tryphon hadn't had one before. She knew the feeling of looking for someone. She'd spent a long time finding her way back to the wilds after remembering herself, and her search for her daughters had been equally trying. The difference was that she always knew the endpoint of her search, whereas Tryphon didn't seem to know where the wolf he searched for was. Avoiding him, was Saena's guess. What might cause a wolf to do that, she didn't know. She'd avoided plenty of wolves in her lifetime, but she'd either forgotten them or changed significantly enough that it no longer seemed advantageous to avoid anyone.

"I'm sorry you can't find her," she offered lamely. What else was she to say? She could opine on the situation, but it didn't have anything to do with her, and wasn't her place. Whether Tryphon's someone wanted to be found or not, she could only offer her ear. "Don't be afraid," she advised him, "you can be stronger without those who would readily leave you." That was about all she could offer him. She'd learned the lesson many times over herself: she was generally stronger when she left behind those who didn't appreciate her enough. Tryphon could be the same.

Before she could say much else on the subject, he abruptly moved, causing her to flinch. The anticipation of violence was instinctual as well as learned, when it came to Saena. Usually sudden movement was a good reason to back off, but in Tryphon's case, he merely drew nearer and sought to pull in her scent. She let him without complaint, even going so far as to gingerly sniff the distance between them in search of his own. His question was as unexpected as his motion, and though her brows knitted curiously, she answered: "I was. I'm not anymore. I found... someone who shares my struggles."

She let a beat of silence rest between them, then said, "you could use someone like that, I think." There was no explicit offer, but Warbone and she were kindred through their experiences, and there was no reason Tryphon couldn't be the same. The implied suggestion was an undertone, enhanced by the gentle lifting of her brows as if in question: what are you looking for now?

She did not hold the scent of the sea, which was instantly gratifying. No, there were hints of pine and dust, and at least one other wolf component, which reinforced what she said to him. Not being alone... Tryphon was well aware of his limitations and finding himself with a pack had always been a struggle; he yearned for family and yet, he did not mesh with society. It had always been this way. This is what drove him out in to the wilds, what had him stumble upon the lonely Saghani as she prowled. They had been together for such a short time. Their shared struggles united them. But she was gone now, gone like the others, and Tryphon had no way of finding her — it was just as likely she had never returned to the Teekon as he anticipated.

He was quiet for some time after Saena's final sentiments were uttered. Thoughtful, maybe. Pining for the woman who had once been his entire (albeit somewhat limited) world. Saena was giving him a chance to be someone else. Did it mean leaving Saghani behind? Separating himself from her entirely, instead of just physically? It hurt to think about, so Tryphon decided not to. He enjoyed having company tonight. Having someone to sit with, talk to. It was different from his norm. He would not be choosing one woman over the other if he made this choice — he was choosing himself, which was something he was already quite good at.

If she returned to him, she would return. It was out of his hands. As much as Tryphon cared for Saghani he had to accept that she was a wild thing like himself, and that their last meeting on the fringes of the wilds might've been their last, period.

But that didn't mean his life was over.

Okay, he finally rumbled, sounding non-commital, except that the sharp look in his yellow eyes and the subtle lifting of his head were signals to the opposite. He looked at Saena now with some trepidation, but his fear was mostly contained, and then reiterated: I... I want to go with you. There were doubts aplenty within him. His concience declaring that no, you can't do this, or, you'll fail her too, but he chose to ignore the dark thoughts that brewed inside this time.

Whatever inward struggles Tryphon was dealing with, Saena was not privy to them. She watched in silence as he mentally warred with himself. All she could think was what he was thinking, and at length she glanced back out over the flatlands. The glimmer of the Whitefish drew her eye and she watched as a pinprick of a lone wolf trotted along its bank only to disappear to the south. When Tryphon spoke again, it spooked her a little and she started, but his admission made her grin.

"You're welcome to," she told him, having known nothing of his past issues with packs nor the possibility that he might just disappear. She cared less about that than she used to, anyway. "We're in the vale. Me and Warbone." Possibly a couple others, she reflected, but there wasn't much set in stone currently. Duskvale was a long way from forming just yet. But Tryphon was willing to become the next link of their small, wild-woken family, and Saena was more than willing to bring him into the fold.

"I'm Saena," she told him, flipping her ears back respectfully as her smile softened. "Do you want to go see it? The vale, I mean. Or did you want to stay here a bit longer?" She didn't mind either way. Her memories were all kinds of addled, but she remembered parts of Blacktail Deer Plateau, and relished the nostalgic retreat regardless of a growing desire to return to the protected vale and the ever-vigilant Warbone.

And like that, he was a pledge to her cause. Or perhaps not the cause - just to her? For now that was enough. When she spoke of the vale he listened keenly, ears turning; but then she mentioned someone called Warbone, and without hesitation he looked worried. His ears folded back, and he pursed his lips in a hard line. Someone with a name like that must be strong, he thought. It seemed fitting though. That Saena (introducing herself while he pondered) would pair off with a creature from such a brutal background made sense to Tryphon. He didn't know Warbone yet, and made plenty of assumptions.

Do you want to go see it? The vale, I mean. Saena went on to ask, but Tryphon wasn't sure. He regarded her shyly with his peripheral vision, stealing tiny glimpses with a shift of his face or his yellow eyes, and inevitably rested his attention on the distant lowlands. I'll find you. I.. I promise. And I won't be long. If these were his last moments as a lone wolf, he would cherish them a little more. And perhaps if he was lucky Saghani would turn up? But that was a dim hope. Truthfully, he had much to think about, and while the young man wanted to see this new home, he was a bit turned off by the prospect of sharing with another - and sharing his new friend, selfish as that was.

Saena hardly understood the concern that crossed Tryphon's face. She could only assume he'd met Warbone at some point, and perhaps theirs had been an unfavourable encounter. Though their partnership as sovereigns of the vale was one forged out of both necessity and camaraderie, for neither was likely to give it up to the other, Saena felt she had some sway over Warbone, though she couldn't say why. He certainly had sway over her when she was so easily made drunk on leaving behind her personality and engaging her inner wild self. She was seduced readily by his lifestyle and sought to make it her own, but she could be stubborn and stern as well. Convincing him of Tryphon's worth ought to be easy enough, she thought, if they'd got off on the wrong foot before.

"Take all the time you need," she told him with a smile. While a part of Saena was anxious to gather together wolves to run the vale with her and Warbone, that part of her had three feet in the past. She'd rushed many things in her life, and few of those had gone well in the end. While she continued to rush in some ways, taking her time in others was a worthwhile endeavour. "We won't be going anywhere, you'll always find one or both of us there."

Folding back her ears and neck and letting her body just drape on the stone, she turned her head slightly toward Tryphon, and said, "I was born here, on this plateau. I'm going to stay here a little while longer, I think. You're welcome to stay here with me." He was also welcome to go back to the lowlands—she hadn't missed his glance in that direction—but she left that unspoken. She of course wanted to know a little more of Tryphon before he left, but she wouldn't fault him at all if he did.

What was it like to have a home you could go back to? Somewhere you could remember? He listened to her in silence, seemingly more interested in the faraway lands than in the conversation, but in truth Tryphon was listening intensely to her. He wondered briefly where it was that he grew up. Where had he come from? The sea? No, the boy liked to think that he was born like any other. Not some kind of humunculous birthed from the remnants of fish, sand, and salt. Tryphon imagined that it would feel nice to have a place where he belonged; or better yet, somewhere he could visit, where he started. The closest thing he could recall was the seaside, and it frightened him.

I'd like that. He stated flatly, accidentally vague while his mind wandered little by little. Well, w-what I mean is, he liked the idea of having an origin place. The beast pursed his lips and seemed to frown at the horizon, and turned to regard Saena with the same curious expression; he looked a bit frustrated, and likely was having a hard time putting his many thoughts in to words. I don't know where I come from. I thought... I don't know. I wish I had a place to visit. But in the end he had nothing. No family, no ties, not even Saghani. Tryphon was loath to let this next opportunity fail — he wasn't going to disappoint Saena for any reason, not if he could help it.

Out of nowhere came a pointed question: What was it like?

Saena quirked a brow as Tryphon stumbled over his words, but she understood his sentiment. Saena had called many places home since Blacktail Deer Plateau, and had lost many as well, but none resonated so greatly as the plateau had. Nevertheless, to return to it would be to sink into sentimental stupor. She would be lulled into security by the memories, and that would cause vulnerability. Saena's mind was sharper than that, so the plateau was off limits, perhaps for as long as she lived. And had she known of the pack of wolves in the woods below it, out toward the sea, it would only reinforce that.

"You forgot it?" she wondered, genuinely curious. "I forgot a lot of stuff, too. I forgot my own kids and family for a time. I still don't remember if I had parents that stuck around or anything. It's... rough not remembering. I'm sorry." Her expression grew stony, but then she shook her head and let those thoughts fly away. Those sorrows had no place in her new life, and she didn't want to burden Tryphon with that. He seemed to have enough troubles of his own. "Well, maybe one day you'll stumble across it, and remember it in a flash," she tried, though she doubted the truth of her own words. Being here didn't help her remember who her parents were, after all. But she could hold out hope for Tryphon.

He asked how it was, and she crossed her forelegs, ankle-over-ankle, and sighed wistfully. "To me it was a magical place," she breathed, "the safest in the world. I so wanted to help lead it someday, but the alpha here wasn't likely to let it happen, and then I started to see the cracks in the foundation, the little weaknesses. The pack's leadership played favourites, and let their friends get away with things others were punished for, or worse." Grimly, she remembered Junior. Nowadays, she knew a mere drop in rank wasn't the end of the world, but that had never been what she loathed Dante's sentence for. It was for shattering her sister's fragile pride, when she was already so low, while letting Osprey break a wolfish law without penalty. Saena believed—deep in her heart of hearts—that Dante was to blame for the way Junior had turned out, in the very end. He'd broken her that day.

"That's why I left. I couldn't lead with those same principles, and would not have been allowed to change it." She huffed lightly. It was all in the past now, but talking about it made the wounds raw again, and she realized she had never forgiven Dante for it. Maybe on the surface, but never truly.

Close here? I dunno why the font keeps getting wonky hrrmm.

Magical. Safe. Neither of these things rang true to Tryphon about his own past - it was spotty to begin with, and his memories were such a tumultuous thing; they rolled through him like the sea, and from time to time when they returned to him, he drowned. But they never made sense, and they never made him feel good in any sense.

As Saena explained her feelings in regards to her old home, Tryphon was sullen, but he listened as best he could while intermittently plagued by distracting thoughts. He wondered if he'd ever remember his origins. His truths. Or maybe, if he was lucky, they would stay well buried? Yet the boy somehow knew that the walls in place of his mind were already in shambles; that they could come crashing down to reveal deep rooted secrets was a terrifying thought.

That's why I left, he heard the woman say, and clued back in to the conversation. I couldn't lead with those same principles.

Idly, the boy nodded his head, as if to say he understood - but he had gone quiet and speculative. Then, he shifted his weight and heaved to his paws. I think... I'll explore. And I'll come back here later, if you want to meet? Or I can... I dunno, find you... He didn't want to cut their time short, or stop Saena from commiserating over what she had lost, but his mind was drifting and Tryphon did not want to burden her in case this was the moment that wall came crashing down.

If Saena noticed Tryphon's wandering mind, there was no indication of it. She only realized there was something wrong when he indicated that he wanted to leave. Her lips turned down and her ears lifted in confusion and concern, but no sooner did she correct her expression, and nodded gently. "You'll find me in the vale just beyond here," she said, gesturing vaguely over her shoulder. "You can't miss it if you go further into the mountains. Seek us there." Then Tryphon would become pack. She thought to leave him with a parting gift—her scent on his coat—but then thought better of it, lest he not keep his word and return at all. She would remain here, poised atop the plateau, for perhaps an hour longer, and then she would retire to the vale once again.

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