Moonspear as dark as the fallen star

It had been snowing steadily for what seemed like hours. When Dirge had retired for the evening it had only begun, dotting what few locations left uncovered with new snowfall. By the early hours of morning those untouched locales were packed full and the paths he normally took were deepening. The ambient silence gave him reason for a slow start; he took his time stretching and drawing in the sights from an unclaimed cave along a rocky stretch. With a passing thought for what a shame it was that he ruined the pristine trail he had set off, swift to suss out a thin ribbon of mountain water. This was not a long venture to some still uncharted area yet unexplored by him; he frequented this spot with others at varying times.

As he drank from the crisp waters, awareness set in. The fugue of lingering sleep whisked itself away, the dullness of his eyes dissipated for a better time. The world before him still laid untouched and full of solitude. It was solitude that gathered his thoughts and left him to peruse them. He wondered how long winter would drag on in these parts, questioned if the weather would abate long enough for a venture elsewhere. Staying in one place for too long had unsurprisingly left him stir crazy, but he was not foolish enough to take day trips unaware of what the weather would be. Getting snowed out somewhere could have easily made the difference between life and death and he quite liked being among the living.

Of course... there was also the matter of events with Moonspear as well. Hydra had filled in the blanks and he had suspected that had been for his own good. His judgments had not gone one way or another however, and as he finished getting his fill of fluids, his thoughts vacated that point for what to do next. He debated seeking out another, though the temptation to suss out Hydra and try and laze through the rest of the morning was there. That didn't seem to difficult a task as she was inclined to be in his company from frequent bout to bout. @Rannoch was an option too, though he wasn't entirely sure what the wolf's schedule was. With a snort and no particular decision, he decided to wander the slope instead—whatever happened would happen.

Liffey breathed deep and steady as she strode quietly across the wintery landscape. She had always considered there to be something so comforting and peaceful about snow, and so she wandered through it now in hopes of soaking in whatever calm it might offer her. She continued to be plagued with worry over Gannet and misgivings over all that had happened recently. The Blackthorn knew worry to be nothing but wasted time. Though difficult to deter, she tried. And that's where the snow came in.

The iota had found herself unable to sleep that night, and so she'd abandoned the attempt a few hours before dawn. She'd spent an hour or so attempting to track down game, but the trail had gone stale and she'd begun to wander down paths that were now familiar to her with only stars and snowflakes to keep her company. The sun rose to find her doing the same still, but she paid little attention anymore to her surroundings. She was lost in thought in spite of herself, and too tired now to do anything but surrender to them.

She did not notice the other wolf until he stood only a few feet before her. A last minute glance brought him to her attention and she froze, her tail flashing high in alarm and hackles raising. In a second, Liffey realized that this was a packmate and not a threat, and so she settled and bowed her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you," she said, "I wasn't paying attention. I hope I didn't startle you..." She stole a glance at his face, wincing slightly as she tried to determine whether or not she had.

An outcropping hid her away for only a moment, but that was all it had taken when she had appeared on high alert. The startle that rippled through her was a cascading wave along his hackles. They smoothed as apologies rolled out, his muteness intact until they trailed off in the stillness; he was relatively nonplussed about their encounter.

"Well I suppose I am a bit of a scare in this droll scenery," he commented with a tilt of his head. She smelled of Rannoch, but also damp. Everything smelled damp in that snow though. "Can't fault you for being jumpy with all going on now can I." There was an appraising tone to his voice that mimicked his wandering gaze—had he seen her about? He didn't recall—but nothing nefarious came of it as he cast it back to the way she had come.

"What's become of your fellow Rannoch? I was considering looking him up this morning but I appear to have the good fortune of stumbling across his lady. Liffey, yes?" Her name came back to him through meandering words, though he hoped he hadn't butchered its pronunciation to pieces.

The male didn't seem too bothered by her abrupt appearance, and so Liffey eased away from her guilt. She smiled at his comment, chuckling softly. She had nothing to say to this in response and so she was glad when he brought up a topic she could totally get on board with - Rannoch. Her ears perked at his name, her head canting at his question. She wasn't entirely certain where he'd planned on heading that day, truth be told. She'd left long before he had.

This fellow was a seriously charming one. His comment caused another smile to flit across her face as she nodded to confirm her identity. "That's me. And you are..." she paused, uncertain of herself as she took a whack at it, "...Doug?" She winced, knowing that she was totally wrong now that she'd said it out loud.

She missed the mark and knew it, if the look that flashed to her face suggested anything. He couldn't help but inwardly wince himself—a few closer suggestions came to mind as to what he could have been called—but all in all he felt a smile equal parts amused and bemused come and go.

"Dirge," he corrected, "though I have been called worse." Perhaps that would take the burn out of her social faux pas. No doubt she already had a mental rolodex of names to remember in an instant while he opted to pick and choose who he had come across idly. It waan't as though he anticipated accruing a tenure there either, so in time it seemed fair they would discard long gone faces.

"If you aren't in the middle of something pressing, perhaps you'd care to join me in a bit of aimless wandering?" Company would pass the time and perhaps scratch the itch of venturing further than he should. Two wolves certainly had better luck at finding others than just one anyway.

He corrected her and she shook her head at herself, smiling at his words. She'd been somewhat close, at least. Her initial thought would actually have been closer, but she was glad she had decided against attempting to call him Drudge. That probably would've fallen under his list of worse things to be called.

Dirge invited her to join him, and she nodded in acceptance of the offer. She wasn't really up to anything that day and she could use the distraction from her heavier thoughts. "I do enjoy a good aimless wander," she said, stepping forward to set off with him, but allowing him to steer the venture.

"So, what would you like to talk about?" she asked as they went, "Want to discuss the weather? Talk about hobbies? Or go straight into swapping life stories and darkest secrets?" Liffey smiled to show that she was mostly jesting. It was the typical order of meet-n-greet conversations, she she figured why not just jump right in.

Amusement escaped him in a well-timed exhale—jumping straight into the thick of dark secrets and sordid pasts would have certainly made quite the topic. She didn't seem to miss a beat in the art of conversation, though his interests on topics ran in another direction. Every conversation had the opportunity to gather information about something and it almost went without saying that he was beginning to acquire the pile of such to sift through.

"I've heard you're quite the explorer actually, so why not start there?" It had been Rannoch who had spoken of her enjoyment in regards to travel and with spring eventually to come, those thoughts of venturing out were gathering once again. "It is something I believe we have in common at least, probably know a few gems out there somewhere I'd imagine," and he didn't hide his want of information either. Liffey, he hoped, would seem the sort to be just as eager to share as her wolfish spouse.

Liffey tended to be a pretty open book about her life and her thoughts. She was not one to offer anything up without prompting, but she was incapable of lying and hiding a truth felt very much like a lie so often. It was pure luck that no one had directly asked her how she felt about the Cerberus, for her infallible honesty would likely get her in terrible trouble in that conversation. But this topic she was happy to partake in, for there was little she could say that would get her the boot from the pack.

"Mmhmm, the area has a lot of interesting sights to offer," she commented, "Have you seen much of it?" She wasn't certain how much time Dirge had spent in the Wilds prior to joining their ranks, if any at all.

"Bits and pieces when the weather was better," he commented as they slipped past old boulders. "I followed the river up through the summer, spent most of my time thereafter in the west and along the coast." The hinterland had captivated him for quite a time, being the poont of reference that had separated him from Saor. Nyx had gone astray somewhere before that with not much more than fleeting scents washed away by summer rains; he pondered briefly where that internal compass would guide him come spring.

"But as for around here, I can't claim to have wandered too much. Wouldn't do me well to have anyone think I've gone missing," or worse, though he did not add such. The mountain itself offered prime vistas, but he had stayed to the lower reaches for the bulk of his tenure. Winter would more than likely keep him barred from climbing too high, at least where others of more sure feet hadn't ventured. Falling to his death was perhaps the most unappealing end he could think of.

Pictures swam in Liffey's mind as Dirge spoke of his own travels. In spite of how much she loved the Winter, she was beginning to long for the greenery and warmth of Summer. His comment about it made that feeling rise in her, especially as she imagined sweeping fields of green with a gently flowing ribbon of blue stretched across it. It gave her a sense of peace that made her smile, even as her imagination continued along to the coast - a place she had still never been.

She chuckled at his comment. "The pack seems to be alright with us coming and going," she commented, considering her own experience thus far, "Just as long as you let someone know when you go and when you'll be back. I've spent a lot of time exploring the area around us. I think probably I spend more time outside of the borders than in. There's just so much out there to see, and I've always felt it was very important to keep track of the activity on your doorstep."

Sounds fair, was the thought that came to Dirge's mind wheb Liffey spoke of keeping track of traffic on their so-called doorstep. Moonspear already seemed to do a good job of that though, given their strong standing and numbers. He hadn't forgot the turn out when strangers had come calling and another died, but he also didn't see the point in voicing such a thing.

"That would be my problem I suspect, being that I never quite know when I'd be back. And with the way the weather's been as of late, I'd rather not find myself holed up and hungry on unfamiliar ground." It had been easier to do his ranging close to there, but he was beginning to exhaust his options for venture. New snowfall could make a place look pristine and attractive, but he could only pass the same boulders and broken pines so many times until the illusion was lost.

"Then again," he started on the next breath, "I never found much fun in saying this is where I'm going... oftentimes the best discoveries lay off the beaten path." His gaze shifted to her, wondering if she felt similar. If anything he also knew packs did not appreciate wild goose chases looking for their straying members either, and Dirge didn't see what business it was of anyone's where he was off to. Unless they decided they wanted to come along of course.

Liffey could understand where Dirge was coming from. It was hard to put an exact date on when the adventure would be over. That was part of the fun of exploring - you never knew what you would find, and the freedom to pursue whatever interesting things you found was essential in being able to do it well. It was a hard line to toe, pursuing her career and being a good member of a pack that seemed to value other trades more highly. But she felt she was making it work, or she was trying at least.

"Yeah, being in a pack kinda seems to be at odds with this lifestyle," Liffey commented, "Before coming to Moonspear, Rannoch lead a pack to the East that I was part of. He always gave me the freedom to come and go as I pleased. He trusted that I would always be back, and he knew how important it was for me to be able to do what I loved without constraints." As she spoke, she realized how wistful she sounded for those days, and she was. Her days with Rannoch in the Vale had been the happiest of her life. She was trying to re-create that happiness here, but so far it had been difficult to achieve. But she hadn't given up hope yet.

Yet.

"It just takes time, I think. Time to earn that trust and be given that freedom here," she said, smiling, even though it felt a little odd even as she said it, "Though to be fair, I've never actually asked. They could be perfectly alright with us coming and going as we please and I'm just paranoid." She laughed lightly. Her? Paranoid? Come now.

Now there was a note of interest—Rannoch had lead a pack. Dirge only knew fragments about the fellow, but their previous interaction suddenly made more sense. That particular scrutiny he had chalked up to some sort of test, which it had been, now seemed to be force of habit if nothing else. Beyond that he had a little trouble picturing such a thing as other bits of information had come about modestly; the hospitality was strange to him, but Liffey seemed to emanate the same quaility.

Her wistfulness stood out for a beat and he thought to inquire, but did not. He knew all he cared to on the matter and could surmise the rest. Something awful happened and events led them here, presumably among them the collapse of said pack. Just as well he didn't comment either, as she continued on and concluded swiftly in a laugh. He smiled again, that paper-thin spread that was gone in a flash to have words replace the void.

"Winter does seem to bring out the survival quailities in us," though abject paranoia may not have been one of them, "but I would imagine they're fine with some wandering. I don't push it being gone more than a day or two all the same. Best not to give anyone reason to turn me out into a snow drift. I've come to like not eating leftovers too much." For him, it was a matter of respect as much as it was keeping up his end of a bargin. He wanted comfortable lodging for the winter and in exchange he'd help however he was needed. But spring would come and he would go, of that he was certain, just not a moment too soon.

Hope it's okay if I wrap this up! Trying to clean out older threads :) Last post for me, feel free to post once more or just archive!

His comment was an interesting one that she could agree with completely. Winter forced them into unique positions that they would not normally have given consent to be in, or so she had determined from her own experience. If it were not Winter, she and Rannoch may already have been on their way from Moonspear. They still owed the pack for what they had done for Rannoch, but she imagined it would've been easier to pay were the weather more friendly. She considered this for a moment, realizing for the first time that she didn't really know if this arrangement was permanent. Did Rannoch want to stay here and begin their family at Moonspear? Did she?

Liffey chuckled at his response. "Probably a smart idea," she said. She parted her lips to speak again, but stopped short as a call sounded over the wind. It was Rannoch's voice, calling for her, and what sort of wife would she be if she were to ignore it? "Sounds like I'm being summoned," she said, smiling, "Thanks for the wander, Dirge. Hopefully we can do it again sometime soon? I promise never to call you Doug again." She gave him a grin and stuck around for his response only a moment before she set off in pursuit of her husband, eager to tell him aaaaaaaaaallll about the handsome man she'd spent the morning with.

Before their conversation could continue a call rose low through the pines. Liffey recognized it before Dirge and he watched her light up with interest at whatever pressing business took precedence. He smiled to her comment—"I won't keep you then."—and soon after watched her bound away. His thoughts of seeking out Rannoch at some point in their venture was shelved; there would be other days, surely, and decided to resume his explorations alone.