Frogspawn Swamp used to shine in the summer

Maybe @Kukulkan? :D

Although he knew winter would be upon the Wilds faster than he'd realise, Redshank still couldn't stay in one place for long and found himself wandering once more. What meagre mass he had accumulated while with the Ironsea crew would no doubt be stripped away again just as quickly. Not that he cared. It seemed ghoulish skeleton was his look nowadays. At least he wasn't as ugly as Screech.

Speaking of. He was mindful still of the Redhawk's Plateau in the distance, giving it a single, cold glare before turning back to the half-frozen marshlands he had found himself in.

Redshank had lived everywhere; from sheltered vales to the shadow of a plateau to a brief stint on the coast. Anywhere he was guaranteed a full stomach and somewhere warm to sleep he was, well...content. But this place was an assault on his nose and had an incessant drone in the backdrop that was both subtle and loud enough to make him wonder if those really were frogs or if he was just going insane. Maybe it was both. The affront to his senses was enough to cause him to screw up his face in disgust, and the boy began to trudge northwards, unknowingly heading towards an equally unpleasant land.

phone post, since I’m on tour, but HAD TO.

Niamh had been tracking a small herd of two or three deer when she happened on a set of tracks that were familiar- but she couldn’t for the life of her place a face to the scent. It made her feel strange, somehow; her body remembered and gave her a feeling of vague wildness, but still her mind’s eye could not lay claim to a face to pair with the scent. Hackles lifted slightly from the sensation some deep-set memory teased her with, she felt the urge to mark her territory- even though this was far from the Plateau. Why she had the sudden urge to do that, she couldn’t explain- but she was going to find out.

She tracked him easily- he’d passed through the area only a matter of an hour or so before, so she took the time to hasten her step and follow until the marshy scent mixed with his own scent, throwing her off a bit as she still struggled to put a name and a face to the male she tracked. Still, she had the wild urge to claim the territory as her own and felt quite brash and defensive. It was strange how her body could recall and recognize the scent, but she herself could not.

Not until she caught sight of his angular frame and the hungry look of his face in the distance. It was Redshank, and he looked a bit more weathered but just as lean and hungry as before, as far as she could remember. Her hackles lifted when she temembered the way he’d rejected the idea of joining with the Redhawk wolves, and at the association with Screech. But she couldn’t help herself. At one point, he’d been her packmate of sorts, and she wanted to see what he thought of her now. She’d filled out a bit, toughened up and had the four clawmark scars around her left eye, marking her as a warrior. For some reason, she wanted to see him submit to her, but that was likely just because he’d abandoned their trio like a proud coward of sorts, and his scent reminded her of a time when she was foolish and wild. She called out to catch his attention, body tingling in anticipation.

Over the chorus of bugs, there was a sudden noise that demanded his attention. With an irritated what now? expression, Redshank turned, only for his features to crumple into a look of surprise and contempt..and maybe a tiny hint of fear. The gold-draped girl was the last wolf he had expected to see, though he shouldn't have been so shocked. She had agreed to stay with Titmouse on the Plateau after all. So in his mind, she was just as bad as his traitorous friend. Even more so, perhaps, for Redshank hadn't been particularly fond of "sharing" his former buddy with the girl, even after they had turned their back on him.

He stared back at her for a moment, drawing himself up from his slouch while his tail waved in a nonchalant manner.

"Wow, you’re uglier than the last time I saw you," Redshank sneered. Like he could talk. Though it did seem life had been simultaneously both kind and cruel to Niamh. Her legs, though still slim, were taut with muscle, her shoulders broader than they had been before. She also had gained a few scars, however, most notably around her eye, as well as the tooth that stuck out from her lip that gave her an almost disgruntled look. Not so sweet now, are you? He thought venomously.

When he turned to look at her, she couldn't tell exactly what went across his mind. He certainly didn't look happy, nor would she have expected him to look pleased to see her. He looked mildly betrayed, perhaps, and definitely surprised. If anything, she wasn't the company he'd wanted or expected, but that just made her a bit happier, knowing that she'd made him disgruntled. She felt as though she looked great, and his comment failed to plant a seed of doubt in her mind. If anything, he smacked of jealousy, and caused her to grin slightly, and plod forth with a confident swagger. 

"And you look even dumber...I didn't know that was possible," She said, a surprised tone to her voice added just to irritate him further. "Haven't learned to play nice with others yet, have you?" She asked, implying that his status as a lone wolf meant that he was unfriendly and unable to join a pack. It was cruel of Niamh to judge a wolf simply because they didn't have a pack- as she too had been a loner for quite some time...But she wasn't perfect, and occasionally flaunted her flaws without realizing it.

His comment rolled off her flaxen back with ease. Redshank would have been fooling himself if he expected the girl to be offended so easily. Her retort wasn't taken so effortlessly by the Cairn, who flashed his teeth in response, taking a defensive step back as she strolled closer. She had an air of what could be cheerfulness about her, though why wouldn't she? It was clear Redshank had suffered under the consequences of his choices all those months ago, even after his attempts to remedy his situation. It seemed pack life just didn't suit him (or, as Niamh correctly assumed, he didn't suit a pack).

"Fuck you," he spat with a flick of his tail, probably only confirming her thoughts. Under his breath, he added in a mutter, "self righteous bitch." What did she even hope to get from engaging with him, apart from flaunting the fact that she seemed to be doing well enough for herself whereas Redshank had hit metaphorical rock bottom? "Fuck d'you want?"

As she looked at him, she was reminded vaguely of the wolf she'd been when she'd first come to the area and met Screech. She too had bared her fangs at wolves who easily could have- and would have- killed her, simply in support of a friend she'd hardly known. Foolhardy. He stepped back and bared his teeth, and finally, it sunk in to Niamh that she wasn't taking the higher route. When he muttered something under his breath, she thought she caught it- and he wasn't far from the truth. Here she was, bullying someone who was alone, and struggling. From what she could tell of his defensive stature, he wasn't too interested in playing up, and demanded to know what she wanted. 

She paused for a moment, and shrugged. "I don't really know. I just...Sort of recognize your scent but couldn't figure out how I knew you until I saw you." She said. "Kinda seems like forever's passed since then." She admitted. And though she wasn't sure if he cared, she gazed at him flatly, and exhaled gently. "Screech is gone. Dude went savage." She said. She didn't mean to tease him with that information- and regret seeped into her voice as she delivered the message. She wasn't sure what she meant by it, but given the fact that he and Screech had been friends at one point, she figured he ought to know...Even if he hated Screech by now.

There was a quiet silence between his demand and her response, the mood seeming to shift just as the wind changed direction. Redshank's harrowed gaze did not leave her form, though his aggressive stance eased after she spoke. Her answer was fair; they hadn't even really been acquaintances when the whole Redhawk fiasco went down. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to tell her by scent either if he had stumbled across her trail. Kinda seems like forever's passed. He glanced away for a split second, his silence indicating solemn agreement, before he looked up again to catch her suddenly expressionless gaze.

A prickle of anger itched at the back of his neck, a renewed sense of blame he lay upon the girl and her ilk for what they had done to Screech. "I know," he said, a barely contained growl slipping underneath his quiet words. He recalled the far off look in Screech's eye — no, not Screech's, someone else's — unblinking and emotionless, the utter lack of recognition he had shown as Redshank pleaded for his friend to speak. Whatever had happened to him since then the Cairn was oblivious to. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know. He didn't believe, however, that Screech had just gone savage. "What did you do to him?"

Niamh lifted her head and turned her ears back when Redshank spoke. "How-" She began, but cut herself short. How could he have known that Screech had changed? The hollow tone to his voice was enough to assure her that he had indeed happened upon the somewhat catatonic, changed Screech, but how and when he'd done so...It must have been in the tiny amount of time after he'd been dragged from the Plateau and when he'd gone off on his own- before Towhee found him again. It was almost impossible to believe...Unless Redshank was alluding to Screech's body, which could have washed up on shore at some point. 

The blame was put on her, then- or at least on her pack- when Redshank demanded an answer. She shook her head. "He got a concussion, and was out cold for...Jeez, way too long. Had to feed him water while he was out, but it still musta caused him some brain damage. We all thought for sure he was a goner..." She was surprised at how easily she was able to talk about it all, despite how traumatic it had been at the time. Some sense of finality must have been gained when he'd died- as though it was the best thing for all involved that he should perish. "When he woke up, he wasn't...There. He went savage though, and attacked our alpha...So now he's gone." She shrugged one shoulder. There wasn't much more to it than that, in her opinion. It was mother nature at her cruellest, but they'd handled it as well as they were capable.

She was right in her assumption that he had encountered Screech — only a few short days before he had been tossed from the cliffs, a detail Redshank was yet to know. It had only been complete happenstance that he had happened across the Redhawk boy, and the meeting hadn't been a friendly one. As Niamh explained why he had been the way he was when Redshank saw him, he felt his jaw clench, unable to shake the feeling that it was their fault.

"A concussion," the Cairn echoed, his tone almost delivered in a disbelieving snort. And how had that happened? He couldn't say he was surprised to hear he had attacked their Alpha (who had that been again? That weird shrieking woman?), especially after such a traumatic injury. Niamh was oddly nonplussed about the whole thing as she recounted it, which only served to deepen his loathing for the girl. She doesn't even care.

Assuming gone meant kicked out of the Plateau, Redshank said with a thrust of his muzzle coastwards, 'he didn't recognise me, but last I saw of 'im was along th'coast." Though he wasn't entirely sure why he was giving her that detail.

Redshank still seemed skeptical, and for a moment Niamh thought he was going to cast blame her or interrogate her further- but he did neither of those. He simply mirrored what she'd said, and she nodded. She could've gone into detail, but she really felt as though Redshank knew as much as he needed to know at that point in time. He didn't exactly seem to be grieving the loss, though he did seem to grow a bit more quiet when he confessed the last time he'd seen Screech. 

As Niamh had earlier suspected, Redshank had seen him in the short period of time following his banishment and before Towhee tore his throat out and threw him over the cliff. She nodded. "That's probably the last place he saw anything." She said quietly. She wasn't there when Towhee had confronted him- but as far as she knew, he was dead. She flicked her tail. "You should find somewhere to live for the winter...I think it's going to be a bad one." She said, tone dry.

"That's probably the last place he saw anything." He stared at Niamh as her voice dropped slightly when she said that. He wasn't quite sure he followed, but was too prideful to admit it aloud. However, a small voice in the back of his head suggested he knew exactly what she meant by that, but the boy didn't believe. He didn't want to believe. So he ignored the voice - it was easier just to not think about it.

He gave a snort at her next sentence, feigning nonchalance as if he thought she was trying to scare him. "And what makes y'say that?" he retorted. But deep down, he knew. It would only be his second ever winter but, without a pack, it also may very well be his last.

WC: 532

--------------------------------------------------

Redshank snorted at her advice, and she rolled her eyes. There she was, trying to extend an olive branch because at one point in their lives- however brief it had been- they had been on the same team. Of course, that team had been led by a wolf who would eventually turn out to be a raping, attempted-murdering psycho, but that wasn’t what Screech had been when they had met him. He’d been a civil sort of guy- relaxed, and relatively easy to get along with, and he’d had a decent sense of humour too. He’d never expected too much of either of them, nor had he insisted on being the ringleader- it’d just suited him. Niamh and Redshank hadn’t spent much, if any, time at all together without Screech, so he’d been the one thing that had connected them. Of course, that meant that they no longer had that link- especially when Redshank had turned his back on the both of them when they had decided to join the Redhawks in the end. That was the only grudge that she could hold against him- and it really wasn’t a big one at all. Clearly, though, neither of them had been able to get over themselves, though Niamh had begun to try, with the topic change.

She gestured toward the North East, which was where the brutal winter winds would eventually come from. He didn’t seem to want her advice, but she was going to give it to him anyway. ”’Cause the Nor-Easter winds are already picking up, and those bring cold winters with them, apparently. Any winter is tough, though, dude,” She said, as though he didn’t already know that. She wasn’t sure what he had done the winter previous, and assumed that possibly he had been with a pack before as he had to be somewhere around the same age as her, right? ”I’m not saying you should come stay with us, ‘cause I doubt you’d want to. But find somewhere, man.” She said, empathy creeping into her voice. Even though he didn’t mean a great deal to her, he was a reminder of a short period of her life where she’d been a part of a small group of young and foolish yearlings who had been so abrasive that they’d thought they could take on an entire pack. That had been a good feeling, and she wasn’t sure she’d felt as invincible since then.

Figuring he wouldn’t really want to stick around and talk to her much longer, she gestured toward the North. ”We have allies...At Moonspear, and Sunspire,” She said, gesturing to the two peaks in the distance. They were very far away, but at least they were places that she knew would take in a wolf if they were friendly and hard-working...She wasn’t exactly going to vouch for him, nor did she want to sully her name...And perhaps mentioning Moonspear wasn’t the best idea, as they too had had it in for Screech at one point. ”But take care of yourself, man. Don’t be an idiot,” She jested lightly, giving him a bit of a grin.

​--------------------------------------------------