Dragoncrest Cliffs the good left undone

A clear cold night after a day spent skirting the neutral spaces (mainly prowling for game and their missing ones' cold trails), and he still couldn't find it in him to unwind properly. And, neither could he pinpoint his unease. Everything was done. Nothing majorly up-heaved or up-ended--no worse than yesterday, or the day prior. Typical, for them. There was still no news from Heda, his daughter roamed the wilds on the cusp of winter, Wildfire's misplaced pups, and the colder nights were doing his shoulder no favors, true, but this seemed to lurk deeper. He just couldn't put it to words--to his irritation, naturally.

So, it all compartmentalized neatly as another matter to brood on as he finally gave up bothering his wife with his tossing and turning and set out into the territory for a slow, moon-draped walk. He thought the quiet might do him some good, even if he didn't know what he wanted from the endeavor (besides peaceful rest after), or who else he would find so late.

She awoke with her heart racing, panting hard, and wide-eyed. Sequoia could not remember exactly what she had been dreaming, but it hadn't been good. Dacio and Opalia remained silently, softly breathing not far away, cuddled up more than she would ever allow them to at this age. Momma Portia, just beside her, was also sound asleep. Daddy Dio was nowhere to be seen. The dark green trail he left was fresh, and considering adrenaline was coursing through her veins, she doubted she was going to get back to sleep anytime soon.

Legs pushed her up quietly, making sure not to disturb the other slumbering figures that lay nearby, and she began to track down her father in earnest. Sometimes, a gal just needed her father. It didn't take her too long to find him, and she approached with a whisper: Daddy Dio?

First the turn of an ear alerted him to something of a possibility, and a voice following it soon after made him pause. Turning, he found Sequoia. Evidently he had not been that stealthy on his exit? Hopefully he had not woken her himself, but he would not be surprised if he had.

Even so, some of the funk of his restlessness seemed less dense right then. His tail waved gently and a swing of his muzzle gestured for her closer. Oh hey. I didn't wake you, did I? he said with a rough, low voice. If that was not the case: Everything good? he asked, looking to just be sure he wasn't missing out on worrying about something.

I don' think it was you, she replied, giving him a friendly, harmless nip on the shoulder. I think I had a bad dream, but I don't remember it. She shrugged, clearly not too shook up about the whole thing. Sequoia paused to plop her button the ground and scratch an itch behind her right ear, sniffing at her foot before returning her attention to Daddy Dio again. Did you have nightmares when you were my age? she asked. Y'know, normal kid stuff.

When she deflected the cause away from him, he sighed with a touch of relief. That's good, he said, meaning to both notes. No use remembering it if it was bad. She certainly seemed alright about it. It can't bother you if you don't remember it, he grinned over his shoulder at her and his voice was starting to not sound so coarse.

As for nightmares, he nodded. Well yeah, probably. I think most wolves do. For me it was a long time ago, he answered. He didn't have many definitive memories of being so young, mainly because he didn't want to; that was lifetimes ago and even . So  I definitely don't remember them. And neither did he remember ever being too terrorized by nightmares as a youth. Maybe like Sequoia, he promptly forgot about them.

How long ago? she asked. Sequoia had never outright asked either of her parents how old they were. She wondered if they had wanted to be grown up like she did. Dacio and Opalia seemed complacent being children, but Sequoia wanted more. She wanted to help out, she wanted to do adult things, she wanted to be Important with a capital I. She still didn't really know how long she would have to wait, but it felt like eternity.

Do you still have nightmares? Do you remember them now? Would she start to remember them when she got older? Maybe that was an indication of growing up. Maybe she should try harder to remember them.

Too long, he answered first, drawing out any suspense on the matter for a few seconds longer. He marked his passage by seasons, and since he had not known his mother long enough to keep such details, he couldn't precisely pinpoint the occasion of his arrival here. So, he didn't have an exact track of how long--just a pretty good one. All he did know was that he was born in the winter sometime and that his earliest cognizant memories were in the spring. But.. I've seen five springs, so five years. Give or take. he did eventually answer with, side-eyeing her to make sure the answer was enough.

As for the present, and whatever nightmares came with it: I do, occasionally. Five years worth of life gave his subconscious five years worth of material to work through; his worst seemed to involve drowning, or smoke. That one he really knew why. Some I remember, some I don't. I guess I don't know why some stay with you and some don't. He kept a casual stance about it, really, as he approached it as a fact of life--one of those things that just happened to almost everyone, most likely. But all dreams are like that for me, though.. he added.

The young Drageda wolf remembered enough to know that there were four seasons. She had been born in the warmth of summer when prey was plentiful, the weather was mild and warm, and she could lay in the sun for hours on end. Now, though, they had entered fall which was chilly and windy and rainy. She was not terribly fond of the cold, but she was thrilled to be having new experiences. Five springs seemed like an eternity to Sequoia, and in that moment she felt very, very young. She wondered how long that felt. It also explained his "too long" answer.

Daddy Dio also explained that he still had nightmares, but he remembered some of them on occasion. He mentioned that all of his dreams were like that, which she presumed meant that he remembered some and not others. Do you dream about me? she asked, clearly hoping the answer would be yes and that they were good dreams. Maybe he dreamt of what she would be like when she was all grown up, successful and worthy of his pride.

Thankful to not dwell on the details of time passing, and having passed with him included in it, he smirked gently to her question. Hmm, yeah, he replied. She was still young enough to be a rather recent addition to what he considered his peaceful normal, so he couldn't exactly aim to recite a bunch of dreams featuring her, or any of her littermates.. but good dreams for him usually did involve the company of his family--of Drageda, too.

Not always but.. you're there. he added thoughtfully. What about me? Am I in your dreams? again he grinned. Was it too presumptuous of him to assume so? What else do you dream about?

Sequoia was delighted to hear that Daddy Dio dreamt about her, even if it wasn’t all the time. She wanted to believe that she was the golden child in every way, shape, and form. She was certainly better than Dacio and Opalia. They were such children, and Sequoia believed herself to be lightyears ahead of them in maturity. Whether or not that was true wasn’t really up to her, but by gods she thought it was. Nobody would ever make her believe she was anything less than a full grown adult (at least mentally).

When he asked if he appeared in her dreams, she nodded with a bright smile. Lots of the time! Kiwi did tend to appear more often, and even Momma Portia, but Daddy Dio was there often enough for young Sequoia to notice. Sometimes I just see your scent, but you’re almost always there. I guess I usually dream about everyday stuff, like practicing hunting and exploring the close by places. Considering that took up most of the girl’s time, it only made sense she would dream things that she knew.

He always found the most solace in the simpler dreams. The company of the family, the pack, and the rest falling neatly into place--he was fine with that, and although most weren't remembered for all too long, he'd take that any day over dreaming of the times long past, of sorrow, of strife--all the ones he could more readily fashion into nightmares.

But, she confirmed, his tail waved as it would be that they had dreaming about everyday sorts of things in common. A certain phrasing let him segue into a question he had to follow with, too: What does my scent look like? Having her alone made for a good chance to try to understand that facet better. Seeing scents seemed unorthodox at first glance, but in a way, he maybe he understood--their noses were good, sometimes he felt like he could almost see a particularly ripe trail.. but not quite in a tangible way he could ever explain what it looked like. With thinking along those lines, that was how he tried to make sense of it, somewhat. Was it just a particularly gifted sort of nose? Or was there more at play here?

Nobody had ever asked her that. Green, she replied, but not the same green as Opalia. She’s brighter. Seq tried to remember if anybody else was green, but she couldn’t think of anybody else right off the bat... at least not anybody she knew very well. Momma Portia is pink, like the bottom of my paws. Dacio is... kinda light purple, like some flowers I saw one time. There were others, of course. Sequoia’s oddly-wired brain had slapped a color on every wolf she had ever had any meaningful contact with. Little did she know it was a quirk and not something everybody possessed.

Actually, she was now even more curious about her own color, as she had never smelled it. What color do I smell like, Daddy? she asked, tilting her head to one side.

Just like that, she had his answer: green. While it was so simply put, he still needed a second to wrap his head around these details of who was what colors. She had their whole little family already mapped, colored, and all. It wasn't a way he had ever thought about them before, somehow, and neither could he fully grasp how she made it sound so simple and just so.

Unable to argue with any of that, he did hate to have to disappoint. I don't think I know the smell colors as well as you do, he said, sighing softly. He couldn't answer so readily.. and he had to put thought into it; he couldn't just take a deep breath and know. Somehow, that wasn't how he felt it--yet she did?

He tried to use her same train of thinking in answering, though, and considered colors he felt were quintessentially.. Sequoia. But, if I had to say.. hm--I think it would be a bright, warm orange. Like a sunrise I saw once, a very.. golden sort of one? Shot in the dark, but maybe? He figured orange seemed warm to suit her, and like a cheery, sociable sort of shade perhaps. Without knowing what it meant to smell the colors out exactly, he was just trying to draw a parallel somehow if he could help it.

Well, that was odd. Daddy Dio didn’t seem to know right away what color she smelled like. Maybe he couldn’t see the colors like she could. Or maybe it was like her eyes: only some wolves were born with it. After a little while, though, Daddy Dio did finally settle on what he saw her scent as: a bright, warm orange. Being Sequoia, she immediately assumed that was the best color to ever be. It sounded very, very pleasant and warm, which was exactly the kind of thing everybody wanted to be, right?

That so— she paused mid-word to let out a yawn —ounds nice. Blinking her eyelids, which suddenly felt a whole lot heavier, she gave her father a lick on his chin. I’m gonna go back to sleep. He was, of course, welcome to accompany her back to the wolfpile, but she would just as happily escort herself. She was a grown up now, as far as she was concerned.

He was still caught up in thinking about matching color to wolfscents, and to their very beings too, so thankfully his answer seemed to work well enough for her. He chalked it up to a good eye, anyway, so even towards things he couldn't see, he could kind of rough it out anyway.

When a yawn split her jaws, he felt a hint of one looking for him, too. It didn't quite get fully formed, but with how contagious they could be, maybe his time was numbered too.

Yeah? I should head back too.. and try again, he said through a tired-sounding sigh of his own and with that, he let her lead the way back. He followed after her slowly, trying to coax himself into the mindset of sleep before they returned to the comfort of the rest of the family. Once he was there and cozy among them, he knew he would probably relax better.

After giving Sequoia a gentle, fond nudge of goodnight, he did his best to settle in, too.