Blacktail Deer Plateau You're starting forest fires

Backdated to yesterday, the 15th Feb. This is his collar-thread for the BWP! He is just outside of Morningside's borders, close enough for someone to find if they are patrolling.

It was the distant, heavy thrum of some unknown beast that caught his attention first when he was nearing the borders of Morningside. Instantly his ginger ears had perked and his head raised, muzzle drawn skyward to sniff the air, but the scent was one unrecognisable to him. In fact, he could not smell anything unusual at all as of yet. So despite his nerves he continued forward, tail lashing uncertainly behind his rear. 

He would have continued this until he got home, but he found himself halting as the sound grew louder, evolving into a deep rumble that scattered birds and caused the fearful cry of many creatures fleeing the areas nearby in a desperate attempt to get to safety. Kieran, having never experienced such a feeling or heard such a sound, felt his heart pound against his chest and his breath came in short gasps. What on earth was happening? 

By now, he was running. While peering at the sky to see the birds dash away he had caught sight of a dark figure growing in size (though truthfully it was only nearing him) that appeared a large, metal bird-creature. Heart flooding with panic, his paws raced across the ground toward the Plateau, kicking up snow as he went, and his mind became hazy, images of his family and friends flashing by - at this point, he truly believed he was going to die. It felt like snakes were tightening, constricting around his chest and forcing his breaths to be shallow, the rumble louder than thunder, or the strike of lightening during a rough storm. He'd never seen or heard anything like this... Kieran began to block out the direction in which he was running, eyes closed out of terror and the rumbling engulfing his ears so that no other sounds could be recognised.

And that was when he felt the sharp sting in his side, vision beginning to fade to black. He tumbled, and the young hunter was left lying uncouncious in the snow, body limp with a strange, foreign contraption around his neck.

Thank God for arthritis! 

Before today, that was something one might have never heard Forrest say while in her right mind. But it was because of her arthritis and longing for the soothing waters of the hot springs that she noticed the limp body of the boy, just outside of the borders. Her first instinct was to make sure that he was alive, but upon closer inspection, she hesitated.

Not only was he stained with a foreign, unnatural scent, but he had been marked with something Forrest had never seen (and let's be clear, she'd seen a lot). Biting at her lip, she tried to think her way through the situation. She could call for @Grayday or @Shale, but she had no idea what either of them would have made of the situation.

Dream? she cooed, wandering a bit closer, Wake up, now. There was no going back — her snout was now prodding along his midsection, carefully avoiding the thing around his neck.

He lay there for a good while, a little bit of snow beginning to coat the nape of his neck and gather in miniscule piles atop his back, until he began to be stirred awake by a voice. The voice called out to him, and for but a moment he almost believed it to be his mother. His mother with fur as white as the wintry land itself, with warm eyes and a kind smile that wrapped him in a sweet embrace, lulling him softly with her gentle voice. He sighed, a puff of air releasing from his nose and dancing in the air as a frosty cloud, a sigh comforted by the peace of a loved figure, the soothing memories from the days he could simply lie beside his mother and his sister with no worries, father standing in the entrance to the den with a grin upon his face and a glint in his eye.

He wanted to see it. The boy's eyes fluttered open, startled by the sudden whiteness that surrounded him rather than the warmth of Eden's side, the lacking presence of her tongue swiping against his fur causing a soft whine to release from his throat. His vision began to clear, adjusting to the light so that he was able to make out the pale figure standing above him. It wasn't his mother, his mother was dead. "Oh!" Kieran wriggled in the snow, pushing himself up. He was wobbly upon his feet, and it was only then that he felt the weight around his neck. "What in the..." The young hunter attempted to turn and peer at whatever was coiled around him, but he could not make out anything else aside from the edge of something black that hung around his neck tightly. "What is... what is that?" He breathed, eyes widening.

No. Forrest shook her head and walked over to him, forcing him to sit back down if he hadn't on his own. In a state of panic, he didn't need to be standing and moving around; it was easier to pass out if you were lying down than running a mile a minute. Although she wished that she'd had an answer to his question, this was one of those few times when she didn't. She'd never seen anything like it. 

Forrest opened her mouth to speak and stammered for a moment, never once taking her eyes off of the thing. Look at me, she whispered, finally composing herself. She wanted to investigate, but she needed him to trust her first. I wanna take a closer look. I won't hurt you, promise. She waited a moment before moving further, then moved closer and began to nose at it.

The woman shook her head and a slight frown fell upon the lips of the youth. He halted his confused stumbling, lowering himself onto his haunches in the white snow. The pale wolfess did not answer his question - he assumed she did not know the answer either, so he waited instead for another response she might give. Help?

Kieran's tongue drew out to sweep across his lips, hesitant yet accepting. This was a packmate - he had not met her before, but it was clear from her scent that she was one of Morningside, and so he would trust her. The boy remained still, awaiting her inspection.

There was hesitance, and that was to be expected; Forrest took no offense to the boy's apprehension. While she knew that this thing was not of the making of one of their own, she couldn't quite piece together where it could have come from. As her nose touched the cold metal of the collar, she drew back in disgust. The smell odor would be pungent enough to send her onto her own ass if she wasn't careful. 

Something like this was out of Forrest's pay grade. There was nothing that she could do, as she was unsure if trying to remove it would do more damage than good. Are you in pain? she asked; that was something she could help with.

Sorry for short post *-*

The woman drew closer and touched the side of the thing, drawing back in disgust. Kieran's brows furrowed together, confusion and worry causing the glimmer of uncertainty in his gaze. What was wrong? Was it that bad?

A new question came, one he shook his head slowly to. "No... no pain. But dizzy." Even as he said it, his vision swam a bit. Oh, and... "I'm tired."

Trying to wrap up all of my MOS threads :(

A thorough investigation would come later, but because there were no immediate concerns other than the boy's fatigue, Forrest was comfortable with letting him rest (under her supervision, of course). Where is your den? she asked while nudging him up onto his paws and his weight against her shoulder. I'll help you there, alright?

The boy squinted as he felt the effects of what had happened, vision swimming a bit again as he wobbled on his paws. "I think," He wrinkled his nose, "It would be better to fly." Yes, something was clearly a little wrong - though it was only the result of the drugs. "That's quicker." His head swung around and peered at the surrounding areas before pointing to a tree further into Morningside territory. "It's called a nest, you melon. That's my nest. It's pretty." The Streiter allowed himself to rest slightly against her shoulder, suddenly caring very little where she led him. He was so tired.

His jaws stretched open in a wide yawn before beginning to walk with Forrest, gaze idly wandering the horizon as he battled to keep his eyes open.