Moonspear i lie perfectly still

@Rannoch

Olive, even as a woman who was already predisposed to melancholy, had been unusually quiet the past few weeks. It was easy for her to slip into her solitude; periods of time where communion with others seemed too much to bear and she went to great lengths to avoid. It was times like these when she was grateful for the support of the pack Moonspear, though Olive suspected that she would never truly feel a part of their tight-knit family, but the aegis of their food supply and tight borders was greatly appreciated

— especially when Dakarai wasn’t there to do that all for her.

Perhaps that was the reason behind her uncharacteristic desire for a new start; a wish to distance her from her past that has suddenly ceased, and undesirably so! It was painful and the pale fae knew that to grow she must face her truths [as ugly as they may be], but the lacerations to her soul never properly healed and reopened the moment uncertainty was thrown her way. The slight woman knew a new start would be a difficult concept for her, a wolf who clung so tightly to reveries of the past, but she also knew that baby steps were key.

So Olive began to call herself Farrah, and that was that.

It was a rare circumstance that the woman felt in high enough spirits to venture from her den in anything but the dead of night [as shrouded as a ghost] but there she was, in broad daylight, following the curves of the mountain’s bedrock.  The lamb had no rhyme or reason behind her movements, but when a foreign, wounded scent danced upon the wind, Farrah’s curiosity piqued. There was a den nearby, and the inhabitant was unknown to her. Her mind puzzled. She wanted to know more. Farrah took several featherlight steps towards the den, saw no activity around the mouth, and chuffed.

Perhaps no one was home.

I'm so sorry!

 

Unlike Lyra, Rannoch was still within the den. There were too many thoughts, which he couldn't quite shake off, that kept him from his usual mid-day rest. At this point, a nap at the day's brightest hour had become a routine, but, today was different. Rannoch found himself fretting over Liffey's whereabouts. Under normal circumstances, the Iota would have been able to reason with himself to assure that everything thing would be alright. But, with Liffey's whereabouts unknown, logic did not seem plausible to the turquoise-eyed yearling. Something terrible had to have happened to her-- just like the eventual fate of anybody he had ever loved. 

The scent of another, whose perfume carried the smell of the mountain, and an inquiring thought broke Rannoch from his deprecating thoughts. Though he was further away from the mouth of the den than usual, he was still able to make out some aspects of the stranger that curiously lingered. Recognizing that this was somebody he had yet to meet, Rannoch cocked his head before calling out to Farrah. 

"Hello?" he asked as he picked up his shoulders so that his posture would mirror that of a laying Sphinx.

Almost immediately, Farrah regretted her decision to approach. Her aura was nearly transparent and her movements, as always, were feathers and ghostlike — she could make a quick escape, if she made the decision to exit the scene now, and the unknown individual inside the den would never be the wiser. She would go on not knowing him, and he would go on not knowing she, and Farrah could continue her wistful ennui until her next almost-encounter with a Moonspearian. It was the best option, for she had been alone in her solitude for much too long and had surely forgotten how to socialize. Farrah would make a fool out of herself, again.

Must be why she didn’t have any friends anymore. 

In truth, the small woman had begun to entertain thoughts that she, herself, was a bad omen to others. Name one wolf’s life that had been made better because she was in it — name just one! — and Farrah would show you a wolf she had yet to bring despair and woe upon. It would happen, just wait. It always happened.

But Farrah didn’t move to leave, and instead she sat outside the mouth of the den; not the spirit who could apparate at a moments notice, but a very real, distinct reality.  The woman gathered herself, rolling her shoulders back and down to appear presentable and demure and charming, whatever that meant now,  releasing a small huff that tingled lightly on her lips. Then she heard the voice, not from inside the den, but outside of it.

Her head snapped to attention atop the finery of her neck, spirit nearly falling out of her body. Her physicality was solid [if not somewhat rigid in her surprise], but her energy was all over the place!  Embarrassed by her brazen approach of his home, of which he surely witnessed, Farrah pinched the bottom of her pale lip between her teeth and exhaled breath in manner that resembled a nervous titter. One, two, three more breaths — and then the lamb angled her locus so that the dappled man was easily in view.

“Hi,” she returned his greeting meekly. “I’m sorry to bother you…”

The voice that returned Rannoch's greeting was contrite, and because Rannoch had not felt bothered, he was confused by the statement. To re-assure his packmate, Rannoch replied, "You're not bothering me." In fact, it was nice to see somebody else and the Iota was happy that she happened upon the den. 

In an attempt to spark conversation with the moonwashed wolf, Rannoch prompted, "What's your name?" 

He was friendly enough, so Farrah soon felt herself shed her armor of debasement. Her ears pricked forward, gaze lifting and meeting his own. It was easy to be herself in the presence of kind wolves, but there were so few of them — and Farrah was far too trusting. From his few words, it was impossible to know if the convalescent was one of them, but she’d give anyone a chance. 

As much as she wanted to steel herself against vulnerability and openness, it came so naturally to her.

The pale fae pursed her pale lips, taking one second too long to respond — her name did not come so easily these days. Unthinkingly, the woman uttered a singular “O-” before clipping her jaw together, silencing her own voice. Without skipping a beat, she corrected herself. 

“Farrah. I’m Farrah.”

It was an honest mistake that anyone wishing to assume a new identity might make; she had so little practice, being constantly alone and all. In fact, this might have been the first time her new moniker had been uttered out loud, for another soul to hear, and that realization gave Farrah some pleasure. She smiled and gave tiny laughed, brushing her maw with a twiggy forearm. 

Canting her head, sure that she made zero sense to him. Farrah returned his question. “And you are…” she began, then filled in the answer by herself. “New?”

Farrah. Rannoch nodded to the name she had given him, and, giving Farrah the benefit of the doubt, he did not press to inquire about the name she had begun to speak. Instead, he allowed her to carry their conversation forward. 

"You're correct in a way," he confirmed with a smile in reply what she had said. "But, my name isn't 'New', it's Rannoch." His voice was light as he spoke to her. "It's nice to meet you, Farrah," he added quickly with a wave of his tail. 

Curious to learn more about his packmate, Rannoch asked, "Have you been a member here for long?" 

Rannoch, she repeated to herself mentally, and then outloud. ”Rannoch.” Satisfied that she had committed his name to memory, Farrah gave a distinct bob of her head. Farrah took several slinking steps towards him, past the yawning mouth of den, in order to better hear him.

Farrah shrugged her shoulders at his next question, not particularly fond of thinking about her history here at Moonspear — but, she had to admit, her time with these wolves was becoming lengthy. “It doesn’t feel that way, but I supposed so,” the shrouded fae admitted, counting the months in her head. Six. Six months, already? It was now fall, and soon it would be winter, and the cycle would start all over again, and then again the next year. Perhaps this was the place she was destined to spend the rest of her days, however many they may be.

It was at a moment like this that she might have mentioned her mate, who had once been well known around these parts — or her children, whom Rannoch certainly would have run into by now — but they were neither here nor there, not needing to be introduced. Their scents no longer mingled and clung to her fur. Their names never touched the lips of any Moonspear wolf. To any one other than Farrah, they might as well have… not existed.

That thought never sat well with Farrah, but what was she to do? Live in the past, afraid to ever move forward? If Dakarai had wanted to be here, he would have been. If Sirius felt loyalty to his Svartell blood, he would have come to her. If Aries wished to stay home with his mother, then he would have. If Cassiopeia had loved her at all, she would have never left. These were the painful conclusions that Farrah had to come to, in order to move on. Painful, yet necessary — and not yet proven wrong.

“I should have introduced myself by now,” she continued, jade gaze held soft. There really was no excuse for it, so she wasn’t going to try. “Have you settled in nicely?” she inquired, eyeing Rannoch’s wounded throat and marveling at the inanity of her question.  

Despite the fact that Farrah had not offered the exact answer that Rannoch had anticipated, he still found himself satisfied with that he had been provided. Rannoch nodded stiffly at the information, as pain radiated from the nasty wound that stretched the length of his gullet and to voice his discomfort, he winced as he ceased any action. 

"It's okay," Rannoch reassured his guest after she voiced any guilt that she may have harbored. Honestly, it hadn't been long since he had awoken from his coma, and he hadn't been able to converse until just a few days ago. "I probably wouldn't have been able to hold a conversation." His ears lowered at this realization, and he frowned. "You came at the right time, though," he assured her then in an attempt to re-direct their conversation t a lighter topic. 

"But, yes, I've settled in nicely. Lyra's been a wonderful medic, and the rest of the pack has been very accommodating." If it hadn't been for the wolves of Moonspear, Rannoch would have been dead by now. 

Suddenly, Rannoch felt odd for having to converse with Farrah with a doorway separating them, and in reaction to this feeling he offered, "You can come in and join me if you want." 

Farrah clenched her jaw as she saw the pain the gnarly  wound caused Rannoch. Though she had not experienced anything and life-threatening as that, the woman could clearly recall the pain of her own injuries just last year. The facial lacerations, the twisted ankles — no, convalescence was not a fun process in the least. Farrah almost pitied him, but she didn’t know the nature of his wounding, so she did not.

Farrah bobbed her milky visage lightly. “Yes, very accommodating.” That she could say about the Ostregas. Though with a prickly exterior, the family did seem to have a bleeding heart for the wounded who fell upon their doorstep. A bit suspicious where bears were concerned, but honest in their intentions with other wolves. Farrah, herself, had been on the receiving end of their generosities and Farrah wondered how long they would let her subsist like this before demanding more of her. Without her family, did she have anything more to give? Did they even care? Looking at Rannoch’s state, Farrah settled on this idea that the Ostregas had more charity that they were able to dole out.

Rannoch invited her inside and Farrah danced closer,  lowering her head to give a few sniffs to the awning. “Are you sure there’s enough room?” She questioned curiously.         

"Yes," assured Rannoch with a nod, "there's plenty of room." Upon waking after the incident with Vaati, Rannoch had quickly realized how spacious the medicine quarters were. With Lyra in the den, he had never really felt as though there wasn't enough room, and, given Farrah's build, he didn't anticipate feeling that way if she decided to come in.

I am sorry for the wait!

There was more than enough room for two — Rannoch said so himself — so Farrah ducked her head and slipped inside. Turned out the male was right and Farrah found it easy to place herself adjacent to him, facing him directly and regarding him sweetly. Her own den had been feeling quite expansive as of late; it was built for a family of four, but occupied by only one. It was nice to finally have company.

But now he had extended and invitation to her and she had accepted, so now it was on her to continue their conversation. Talking to others was not currently Farrah’s most well-honed skill but she would try her hardest, in the name of kin-ship with her packmembers! A loving relationship amongst her and Charon and Hydra might not be in her cards, but Rannoch seemed, at the very least, receptive.

“What do you do?” Farrah inquired clunkily, finding the small talk to sit weird upon her tongue.

As Farrah entered, Rannoch shifted his position within the den to give them both some personal space, as they had only just met. The cave's spaciousness allowed the pair of wolves to be at a comfortable distance and Rannoch was satisfied that it was able to accommodate them. Once the star-kissed woman settled herself upon the floor, she prompted some small talk and Rannoch was thankful that she had taken the initiative to get their conversation rolling. 

"I used to be an Alpha, but, it seems as though that was not in the cards for me," Rannoch mused, keeping the conversation light, "but, I am a Sitter and Coach by trade." He enjoyed his trades and was excited to get to know the children of Moonspear. "And you?" he prompted with a quirk of his brow, "What do you do?" 

Farrah and Rannoch became acquainted with each other as they conversed. Unfortunately, after a short amount of time, Rannoch began to feel fatigued as it had been quite some time since he had held a conversation for so long. Apologizing, Rannoch excused himself so that he could go back to sleep. Once his packmate left, Rannoch fell asleep quickly, feeling fortunate that he had had the opportunity to meet another packmate.