Chimera Fields (;*´Д`)ﾉ

It was by hunting mice and other small game, as well as scavenging off of abandoned carrions, that the boy managed to survive; he had left home without the proper knowledge, forcing him to learn along the way or die trying. Somehow, he managed, but it was not without trial and error. Each day was a learning experience, each night a lonely one, and every hunt a risk. Oftentimes he wished he were home and longed for his family—but, as time went on, he found that their faces were fading from his memory. He knew them by name and name alone, the voices that once spoke to him a mystery and their faces skewed.

The canvas of his past was terribly smudged, making it hard to miss it even when he knew that he should...

But perhaps that was for the best; he did not know it but he had travelled so far from the creek already, that his previously made decision to abandon all hope appeared smarter each day. And he did not stop, either—Kubo remained on the move at all times, stopping only when sleep was required. It was better this way, or so was how he felt, for the longer he moved meant the warmer he remained. Whilst that was no life for a child his age, the boy continued, trotting steadily across the snow that blanketed the land.

The word on the wind spoke of a gathering of beasts in this region, the kind that spoke in tongues and called out to the gods of old, those gods which welcomed the blood of their ilk in supplication; these were his people, and he was intent on finding them wherever they  rooted themselves. So it was that the youth tread across the snow, for all purposes a vantablack shadow against the ice, scouring every inch of the terrain for signs of his brother Marruz. He'd come this way — the boy was as certain as ever about this.

That is, until the scent crossed through a gully. The snow was nothing more than murkwater and his brother's path vanished alongside it; if Marruz came this way then he might've been deterred by the slush and its seemingly endless depths, or he'd crossed and had his trail devoured by winter. 'For the love'a Mora, you just had to make me work, didn't you—' The man thought as he came to a halt. His broad paws crunched against the snow and for a moment, all was still.

It wasn't only that there was water — there, lingering nearby. A deeper scent. Fresh, but not familiar. Mithras huffs a breath and gives the gully one last grimace before he departs from it, pushing off the burm of snow and taking up a direct line of approach. He doesn't have to go far to notice the stranger's tiny shape (compared to himself, but Mithas always had an ego that gave him titanic proportions). It wasn't his brother, that was certain. But he approached nonetheless, and called out with his heavy voice, You there—what do you know of this place? As if the first local would hold all the answers.

A voice.

He jumped.

Startled beyond what anyone might consider normal, Kubo’s legs locked up and he slid to a stop. With ears splayed out sideways, he swung his head around to look at the one that spoke out. Did he know him? Had they met before? He was certain they didn’t and that they hadn’t. But if they were not familiar with one another, then why did the male call to him?

It didn’t make sense. But, then again, had anything made much sense since he’d set off on his own?

“Nothing,” he suddenly shot back, surprising even himself.

Calm down, boy...

Ah, there it was again—that feeling. For now, he had no other choice but to ignore it.

“I’ve never been here before,” he added, quieter this time. His previous outburst originated from a place he knew nothing of—Kubo knew only that he was in no position to behave in such a way, neither mentally nor physically. Months had gone by now, and he was still without another. Still alone but still surviving, living off of scraps which, of course, had ultimately resulted in his less-than-slim figure.

But that was life.

Dash frequented the eastern parts of the Chimera Fields where the grasses (or the snows, this time of year) ran up against the rather ironically-named Neverwinter Forest. The Coterie wolves had been settled in the Forest for a short time now, and Dash often found himself venturing from their hideaway for a breath of fresh air. Something about the tree branches constantly blocking out his view of the sky made him feel clausterphobic. 

Dash had yet to venture this far west, and had he come this way in the warmer months he would have been facinated to observe the mark of the tornado upon the fields, cutting a deep trench across the grasses as far as the eye could see. As it was now though, the gully was mostly obscured by a thick layer of snow, more or less disguising its existence from anyone unfortunate enough to take a misstep. 

As it happened, Dash was a misfortune magnet. The boy sank down into the hidden gully with a yelp of surprise, and his cry rang out across the fields. He found himself up to his neck in snow, reminding him acutely of the avalanche that had buried him and his sister so many months ago. The memory triggered more panic. Dash thrashed about desperately, and a stream of whines and yelps spilled from his throat.  He could feel himself sliding deeper into the ravine, and he was too wound up to realize that his wild attempts at escape weren't really helping things.

The exchange was brief and, in hardly a blink’s worth of time, Kubo was right back at where he started—alone. He travelled with his nose pointed towards the ground and a sway to his gait, exhaustion nagging at him; he knew he should stop and rest, perhaps even find a meal to fill his stomach, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop moving, not yet, and so he pressed onward. He fully intended to leave the open expanse of land far behind him before settling down, knowing well that no good could come from being out where everyone could see.

And yet, it was not towards a forest that he found himself moving but towards the sound of distant cries.

Kubo was not the helpful sort—in most situations, he couldn’t help, as everything required far more strength and energy than he had available to give. And as he came upon the flailing wolf, he knew that the predicament the stranger had gotten himself into requested the actions of any other wolf but him. It was unfortunate, really—for the one struggling to right himself.

“He... hey!” he shouted anyways, keeping back from the Earth’s wound so as not to fall victim, too. “You need to, uh... you need to calm down!” Would that help? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, doing so would answer the question, whereas his current struggles only added onto the distressing situation.

@Kubo I guess we can continue on, since Mithas is inactive.

 

Dash was snapped from the flashback by a voice, shouting through the haze of his panic. Calm down? The advice was so ridiculous that it actually prompted Dash to still in his incredulity. If there was ever a time to not be calm, this was it. Dash opened his mouth to shout at protest to the really-bad-advice-giver, but he then noticed something odd. 

He wasn't sliding anymore. Granted, his situation wasn't improving, but at least he wasn't falling further into the ravine. It seemed that being still was a better plan than thrashing around. Maybe... maybe this kid wasn't the worst advice-giver ever. "You.. you got any more suggestions?" Dash asked hopefully, doing his best not to move a muscle. It took a lot of focus for Dash, as he was almost constantly in motion.