Blackfeather Woods Let my eyes be the rhythm

Backdated to 3rd Dec

The woman had returned, slowing her pace as she reached the borders, she howled for @Relmyna and @Wintersbane.He'd like to stick his nose into this. She wondered if others, too, would come. 
She moved into the woods, hoping to meet them along the way and to conceal the battle wounds adorning her face. She'd kept moving, assessing her injuries when she could; subsequently jumping at every lupine sound. 

Her gaze was hard, but the soft blanket the trees provided gave her comfort and relaxed her body. She was at home here, and comfortable. Still, she moved with purpose, supposing she needed to tell the Listener of the threat Moonspear provided. Understandably, she would also tell the Listener of her tracking efforts. She had taken the time to note where they were going despite her battles. The woman hoped they could hunt before they all moved off.

Another thought entered her mind; Maegi. Her scent on the borders has depleted. She was yet to return. She just hoped that she could be there for when she did and that her friend was safe.

maegi had gone. mou had gone, presumably to follow.
relmyna had grown worn with prayer and worry, and now a cry rose, and blood upon the air.
the mother had not answered.
no, no, she had delivered flicker back unto the shadows of blackfeather, and crimson bled into the atmosphere, though no wounds were readily apparent. the feather tangled behind her ear swung forward at her grim jawline, and relmyna breathed. what has happened? for she did not know. the stench of redhawks had not followed flicker home, and at least for that there was some relief.
seafoam eyes filled with worry, she was silent, waiting for the gamma to answer.

a call rises upon frigid air for relmyna and him; and though he has only spoken to her once ( and that conversation did not go very well ) he recognizes the voice to be flicker's. while he finds it odd that the summons is for him and not their dark master he makes his way towards where her howl'd originated from nevertheless. it does not take him long to join the scene — easy to follow the listener's scent trail that, the closer he draws, begins to mix with flicker's; heavy with blood. his hackles bristle with unease as he joins the duo, muscles tense as he moves to the listener's side. his glacial gaze sweeps over what he can see of flicker's appearance, stuck close to the shadows as she was. it does not offer him much but he can smell wounds despite her best attempts to conceal them.

he does not speak — assuming that the listener has already addressed and encouraged flicker to inform them of why they were summoned — favoring, instead, a stalwart presence with a stony curiosity edged with unease.

"The mountain pack," she started when Wintersbane appeared, "I must've got too close. But when they attacked me I was on neutral territory." Her eyes turned between the two, letting a lighter pack fall to reveal a ghastly slice under her right eye that had bled to stain her fur, mixing with the colour of her muzzle. Other cuts splattered across her face, oozing still as she moved; her muzzle was painted with Revui's blood.  "They had no right for this, I had done naught to provoke them,"  her sullenness, mixed with feline anger, was evident. She turned her head back to the shadows, satisfied that she should come across more genuine from her words.
It was, after all, the truth.

A pause.
"They wanted information. I gave them nothing. They have a young mercenary in training with the bloodlust of a lion." Her eyes tilted to Wintersbane, the soft glint showed why her attention turned to him; to find his reaction. "One of their numbers came here, looking for the captive. I fought him, made him leave." Her eyes slid back to Relmyna, collecting herself for what would come next, then she'd talk about organising a hunt. It was important, but the safety would come first.

the mountain pack. relmyna did not know who they were; grateful for wintersbane's presence among them, she let her eyes settle with a healer's appraisal upon flicker's wounds. they would look to her now, to know what it is that they must do. and in truth, the listener was weary of running, weary of fights coming to their borders. even now, she dreaded the return of mou and maegi, wondering what chaos the pale pair would bring with them.
come with me, she mouthed instead, intending to lead them both to her den of herbs, where she would clean and bind the woman's wounds. the mountain pack had been here, yes, after the woman called fire, who had gone. but it seemed even her departure would not let blackfeather rest. you did well, flicker, relmyna praised gently. i am relieved to have you safely back among us.

flicker begins to speak as soon as he arrives, diving right into things by claiming a 'mountain pack' etched those wounds upon her flesh as she tilts her face into the light for the pair to see. wintersbane studies them with a clinical grimness — he's no medic but they don't look life threatening. only painful. he suspects she speaks of moonspear for that is the only 'mountain pack' he knows of, lest one cropped up very recently in the sunspire region. you are blackfeather, the tundrian rumbles, breaking his silence. for some packs that is more than reason enough. such was the burden of the legacy they cloaked themselves in. such was the burden of the blood-red pawprint pressed into the blue-black fur of his shoulder.

flicker looks at him when she mentions a young mercenary in training with the bloodlust of a lion and there is an annoyed roll of wintersbane's shoulders. why do you look at me when you speak of this young mercenary? the dark brother demands, brows furrowed wondering if she was insinuating that this young, bloodthirsty mercenary reminded her of him — in which case made him want to inform her that she truly knows nothing about him at all.

oh, once upon a time; sure. he would fight everyone and everything. he didn't care. all he lived for was the rush of adrenaline and the pain and the power that came with winning. but he has shed his skin of that reckless, ( stupid ) foolhardy boy.

did they want information on mou-screech-titmouse-whatever the fuck he calls himself these days? wintersbane inquires of flicker as relmyna leads them to her medicine den. i suspect i know which mountain pack you speak of; and if i'm correct: they know he's among us and they want him dead. he's a source of a lot of trouble for them and wintersbane has long since begin to wonder if he's worth all the trouble. as far as wintersbane's concerned mou-screech-titmouse is dead weight and if they didn't cut him loose soon he will drown the whole pack in blood. they'll kill anyone that stands in their way. it was a grim threat that hydra parted him with and how the strategist in wintersbane approached matters like this — with clinical coolness that could be mistaken for blunt cruelty and logic — is that one life is not worth the lives of the many; but he keeps this to himself largely under the suspicion that the listener will not share his viewpoint on that.

For some that is reason enough.

The words almost stung, but she knew what it meant, and leaving the pack now would just land her in more trouble. Plus, she had no reason to leave, she couldn't leave them. So, she only sighed softly and turned her gaze back to Wintersbane to answer his question, "Wolves like him wish to take out the strongest link. One like you may be his target." She supposed he'd think it was patronising, to even suggest the adolescent could take on the yearling, she decided to soften her meaning before he could even start to scoff, "therefore, you have to get to him first if it ever comes to that." a small smile, he seemed like he could relish on the thought. Perhaps the thought of herself getting her ass kicked was good enough; she did speak wrong against him, she'd concluded. Whatever.

"Mou-who?" she questioned, she had never met the troubled boy and she had no sense of him; imagine the fury of the Moonspear at that. "They asked, but I don't know him. I lied and told them he left," a shrug, "It won't hold them from our door."
A pause, "If they come here, I'm out for their blood. Assholes..." She muttered her vow, she would love to have spilled the blood of Hyda in the snow. She looked much like the older female on the mountain, perhaps they were related. A shake of the head, "They had no right." But what could she do about it? Unless she trekked back, there was nothing she could do aside from recover and hunt.

quick phone post; so so so sorry for the wait

 

they moved through the dark wood. relmyna said nothing, only listened to the words spoken by the dark brother and the fierce guardian who had returned, scarred by the mountain wolves.
a sudden sense of weariness overtook the woman. to be blackfeather was to be marked, and it had caused her great pain already. arrival at her medicine den brought the listener away from flicker and wintersbane; she returned with a small bundle of comfrey.
her stores were low, and so relmyna must go out into the world and draw more. but weakness had become her lot; she dared not hazard a trip in the icy threat of full winter.
as the others spoke, she chewed the root to a gummy paste and then, if flicker allowed, began to smooth it across the other’s wounds. it would draw the edges together, bind them fast, and the listener’s tongue worked to clear the blood as she laid the medicine.

wintersbane listens in stoney silence as flicker offers him an explanation at his request. it did strike him as patronizing and also in some bizarre twist: as a compliment. her words left nothing to be desired; she saw him as the strongest link and for a moment he isn't sure how he feels about that. likely, she meant that he was physically the strongest of them — was he though? from some of the brief glimpses he's gotten of kove he would bet that their dark master is formable himself. she thinks that the boy is the problem ...and it would seem like a beast over eager to battle is but that eagerness brings with it clumsiness. no, it was hydra that would be the real threat.

the cerberus would be the real threat if they brought war to us. he says. he doesn't explain how he knows; is it relevant? does it matter? wintersbane grew up in stages of his life going through a proverbial metamorphosis from child to teenager to adult and each stage brought with it something that shaped him into the man he is. he doesn't and hasn't spoken about his time in moonspear not because he fears retaliation but because he didn't see how it mattered at the time.

he struggles to grasp how to explain mou-screech-titmouse but she makes it evident that she understands who he's speaking of all the same. i don't know what his real name is. hypocrite. was he not the same way? had he not shed name after name like a snake shedding it's skin? roarke. kahlil. drogon. wintersbane. i don't know what is true and what is fiction when it comes to him but i do know that moonspear and redhawks want him dead. seemed like a lot of trouble for one wolf. a lot of trouble that the shrinking blackfeather woods was not equipped to deal with.

looking at it from a tactician's point of view, we better hope neither pack decides to march against us. we won't win. not with our low numbers. they had what? a handful of adults. two kids. and absolutely no allies to call upon. connections and contracts had long since been severed by the leaders before and thus there were no lingering favors to call upon. as much as wintersbane enjoys a good fight ...he does not enjoy the prospect of facing certain slaughter.

i could go to moonspear, speak with hydra. she used to be my mentor. maybe she'll listen to me. wintersbane pauses briefly and adds and redhawk. they still owe me a favor for saving the life of one of their cubs. he draws in a breath. he doesn't hold much hope but it's something. blackfeather woods might not have connections or favors to call upon ...but wintersbane does. perhaps i can dissuade war so we no longer have to keep looking over our shoulders, waiting for the moment they come to end us.

The woman nodded slowly as they walked, listening to Wintersbane and following the path of the Listener. The threat of war was a real worry to her, but one she vowed to prevent.
At any cost.
She wouldn't let the forest fall under attack because of her actions; deserved or not.
She sighed heavily, trying to dislodge the sinking feeling of her heart falling through her chest and the tightness in her throat.
She knew, as she supposed the rest of the pack did, that the woods wouldn't be able to stand against an attack, especially not from two other, larger packs.

They came to a stop and the Listener started her work on putting some plant matter into the wound and cleaning the remains of the blood. She held her breath, tensing as the pulp was applied tot he wound. She looked at Wintersbane for some time, formulating her next words. His help would be appreciated by all; certainly, it could avoid a war.
But she knew she'd still be looking over her shoulder for a long time. Perhaps forever. she'd been marked for a member of Blackfeather and had been attacked for it.
"Everyone would be grateful if you did so. Though it may avoid a battle, it won't end the war." When the Listener had finished she said her thanks and departed from their company. Blackfeather was a target, no number of favours could keep it from their backs.
She needed time to think.

Last post here

last for me also <3

she listened to them speak, but the hum of their voices was all but lost in the whisper of the gods. she was beyond this conflict, beyond the tension between flicker and wintersbane. she committed herself to her task, nursing the woman's lacerated flesh with the breadth of her skill, and when she had finished, her gaze traveled briefly to the silver-ruffed man who had come to mean so very much to her innermost heart.
be careful, came the gentle movement of her lips; relmyna turned her eyes upon him more fully once flicker had departed. it was greatly meant, and yet she doubted the man would take her advice. much as she felt for him, he had outgrown the ageing wood, outgrown her in ways not yet recognized.
and suddenly, the great weight dragged at her soul again.
reaching up to his cheek, relmyna brushed her ragged lips there once, lingering a silent moment before turning to pad into the haunted shadows.

i'll go ahead and archive this.

a solemn nod is sent in flicker's way as she adds her thoughts to his rumination. wintersbane knows, as he knows the sun will rise and fall each day, that it might stop a battle but it would not stop a war. if they wanted blackfeather woods to pay for what had been done — whether it was one or all of them responsible — they would pay. he watches flicker depart before his gaze turns to relmyna, softening as it always does. for her. always for her.

something stirs in his chest as he looks upon her. warmth and an ancient sadness that is abrupt and a bit disorienting. he doesn't understand it. not now. i will. he promises, leaning into the brush of her lips against his cheek. you too. this trek would take him away from the woods for some time ( longer given what would take root a few hours after his departure ). he watches her disappear to and turns his head towards the borders now, heading to them and then over them on the journey to bide them some time.