Dragoncrest Cliffs We can hear when we are hollow

The afternoon sun was weak and watery as it shone down on Drageda's south-western cliffs, warming the stone and casting the beaches below in long shadows. Near the edge where Eurycrates had trespassed and subsequently died, Ephraim was seated and considering a large, firmly placed boulder. He'd discovered it not three days past and returned several times to mull over it, but just what he found so interesting about it was unclear from his face.

Perhaps focusing on it gave him something better to do than dwelling within his own head. Maybe he was reliving that night in his memories, using the boulder as a point of reference or maybe even seeing not a boulder, but a wolf standing there, challenging a whole pack. He didn't spend long there, maybe fifteen minutes once or twice a day, but while he was there by the rock he didn't move or speak.

He simply sat and watched shadows crawl slowly over its surface as the sun moved.

@Blixen

A/N: dated to today, post-heda’s death

Pigeon-toed, hobbling everywhere. Perpetually drowsy, full of sighs. Almost into an amorous third week. And now, an abysmal hunger, and all of this, with a belly that had yet to ‘bump’. Because of her skirmish with those ridiculous Rusalkans, and not simply for the sake of her pregnancy, Aure had refrained from edging past Drageda’s borders. Yet, it didn’t stop her from from returning to the site of the reason as to why Raleska had assaulted and cursed her so. Aure, herself, knew she had acted sentinel at the crest of the cliffs when Eurycrates had been downed; alas, she hadn’t known him by name, but she had seen and heard it all. Wished she hadn’t.

Who she didn’t mind seeing, though, was Ephraim — at least, she assumed him to be. In the days that waned wartime and waxed the aftermath, the ivory skayona hadn’t actually met the burnished coywolf. Excursions to seek her brother, and returning only to reunite with him, had all but required her attentions. And now, with Vonn having parted to repay his debts and to pledge himself, Aure’s attention was now quartered between the kru, this tragedy, Elysium, and her copii that were yet to come.

Aure couldn’t let herself be donned in the veils of solemnity anymore than the kru couldn’t shake theirs. Wouldn’t allow herself to be, not even with her skirmish, since having revealed her bearing whelps. So, tottering in a so-sleepy, crotchety-like manner, the scarred she-wolf picked her way towards Ephraim’s post. And when she neared the younger, pearled a soft ”Buna“ towards him.

Ephraim turned a slim ear in the direction of someone's hobbled approach, but couldn't place the sound of their steps as anyone he knew. It could have been any one of the Drakru; many of them were still recovering from injuries, himself included. But when he turned his wedged head to the sound of her unfamiliar greeting, he found someone he didn't really recognize at all. Surely he'd seen her in passing here and there, but Ephraim couldn't put a name to Aure's face. His fault. He'd been so disengaged since the conflict, he never bothered getting to know half his pack.

I don't know what that means, Ephraim admitted, removing the remainder of his attention from the boulder. Maybe he was only using it to send his mind to another place, another reality in which Heda wasn't dead and he didn't feel lost in his own clan. Haven't seen you around, he prompted, I'm Ephraim. Skayona, he added, but his lips turned down at the thought. He was no good as a Skayona, fleeing from storms like some babe. He wasn't even sure he was good as kru anymore; Blodreina had made it clear, at least the way he had misunderstood her, that the only worthy kru were those born to it.

Been here long? he asked, rather ignorantly, for Aure had accomplished far more than morose Ephraim in the past month-or-so.

"Only 'hello'," her voice light with promise, the she-wolf made to situate herself alongside Ephraim. She hadn't quite come to know the young coywolf, but she had caught him frequenting Verx's time in those sparing glimpses she's given to her mate. "I... don't believe we have met, no?" As her mind sifted back through the memories before this moment, she couldn't truly pinpoint where or when she'd seen the boy before, and she thinned her lips at this. Of course, there was the off-chance that in the aftermath following the war, she'd tended to him amongst the rush of poulticing gougings and gashes and heaves knows-what-else with Rose.

If Aure'd known that Ephraim had been involved with some misunderstanding with Blodreina, well... they'd get off to great start already. She was, of course, rather gladdened to find that there was another skayona in the pack, "As am I. Skayona, of course, not an Ephraim," a gentle trill of a laugh. "I am Aure; I've been here for some time, really. I would have to say, ce? Practically before ze cliffs were raided, so... Nearly three months, yes?" In her musing, her voice had lowered, as if speaking more to herself and her thoughts than towards the young male beside her. Aure's eyes were rabbit-soft and silver, peering at him a little wonderingly, too. "Have you been here for some time, as well?"

Ephraim shook his head lightly, affirming that they hadn't formally met. There were a few wolves like Aure among the ranks whose names he didn't even know. That was entirely on him. He should be making an effort to get to know the rest of his pack, but since the fighting began, his focus was mostly on himself and his nightmares. He revisited them at least once a night, waking him more often than not, so that even his fur had a disheveled appearance now that he never would have allowed before.

Another Skayona. Great. He should be pleased to know there was another wolf who practiced his craft here, but the problem was that Ephraim didn't practice it. There had been that big storm with the three bucks, and then that other storm the night of the fighting, and since then he found no pleasure in looking to the skies. Glad there's another, he said, and he meant it, but perhaps not in the way Aure might interpret it. Glad there's someone else doing his job, he meant, so no one was likely to notice that he was slacking.

Yeah, been here a while, he answered, lifting one narrow shoulder. I was rescued by my adoptive dad during a bad storm when I was pretty little, went with Heda to Trigeda to learn, then came back a while ago. I was her second. As for the exact time, well, he couldn't say. Wasn't it true that time seemed to crawl for children? It felt like a lifetime. Swallowing the painful lump that formed in his throat at the mention of Antumbra, he sniffed lightly and asked, What brought you here? What made you stay, is what he wanted to ask, for what newcomer would stay when their first days were marked by battle? But that would be rude of him.

The curl of her lips was still there, at the notion of gladness (apparently) that Ephraim spoke in, and the mention of "Trigeda" did pique her interest; the way Verx had spoken of it made it sound like some faraway Shangri-la for warriors. It wasn't hard to believe. Of course, she listened to the tale he had to tell, and then — "What brought you here?" She dimpled at the inquiry, because a coloratura of the past autumn came back to her, and how she'd come whirling to Dragoncrest on the winds of winter.

"Nothing. Well," she pearled, eyes creasing with her own amusement, and her head temporarily swivled back to Ephraim, a soft little huff, "I've since reunited with him, but I'd originally made my way to ze coast in ze hopes of finding my brother. We, ah, come from ze far north — I suspect it is uncharted to most." Giving a flippant shake of herself, she reiterated her story, "But, otherwise... nothing truly brought me here." Primly, the astronomess feathered her tail neatly about her paws, humming quietly as her starlit gaze went out to sea.

"Ze last thing I ever thought would come of it would be a place here, war or no. Sometimes, I..." Her smile faded then, just a tad, and her ears curved back a smidgen. "Well, I haven't exactly been able to find time with ze heavens. And, you? Do you look to ze stars - or storms, possibly?"

Nothing. Wasn't that the truth of most wolves' lives. He felt they must all do that from time to time, stumble around until they found somewhere where they could band together with others and find comfort. That was probably what his life would be if he hadn't found Etoille and if Antumbra hadn't given him a chance to prove himself. Nothing brought Aure here but the search for her sibling, but then what made her stay? He was back to his unspoken former question, only now he had grounds to voice it in a fashion.

Does your brother live here, then? he wondered, wracking his brain for any mention from any of Drageda's wolves about the distant north. He remembered Currituck suddenly and asked, are you from the big snow wolves' mountain? A friend of mine lives there. She didn't really look like a big snow wolf, but... then again, he'd never met one and didn't know how they might look. He'd expected large, strong wolves like Antumbra and Vercingetorix, but cloaked in white. He supposed her pelt matched, and she did have an assortment of scars that begged their own questions, which he kept to himself for the time being.

Aure seemed ready to say something, then seemed to redirect. Ephraim wanted to press her to continue if only to answer that question that was plaguing him as well—why did you stay—but she asked him something then, stifling his voice for just a moment. Not really, he admitted in a quietly abashed voice. I don't know much about the stars and... I really don't like storms. I try to watch the clouds though, predict the weather. But I'm no good at it.

Before she progressed to his inquiries, she canted her head as she watched him, all easement and considering. It was hard to adapt yourself to something you adored, but had no way of furthering your knowledge when those knowledgeable weren’t present. Rather than entirely console him — she was sure he’d had enough of that, from the tone — she instead replied, ”I understand. There are times when I am not too fond of storms, myself. If this weather-watching has felt muted, there can be no shame in departing from it for a skill more suitable.” Her lips pursed for a moment, then, ”Even if there is nothing to be found, as long as you try, that is enough.”

“I have dedicated most of my life to ze constellations; until I arrived here, I thought it would be all I would ever do. But, I have found myself practicing remedies, or advocating for ze cliffs whenever I take to excursioning.” Rising back up with a stretch of delicate shoulders, her scarred face was quiet, but not unkind. ”I do not enjoy the time spent with them as much as I do when I spend time with ze heavens. It is only... out of necessity, I suppose, if I am available at present.”

Another roll of shoulders, this time a little flustered, along with a meek laugh that followed. ”I-I do not mean to ramble. However... my brother does not live within Drageda, as much as I wish he would. And, ah—“ another soft laugh, finding Ephraim’s stumble endearing, ”No, no, but I suppose my Twelve- my mountains could be considered such. Far, farther north — past ze Bracken Woods, farther and further still.”

She looked back to the younger then, the curl of her lips becoming sheepish. Why was she letting her tongue run away with her this evening? It was ungracious. ”I would have been delighted to have come across your friend, though, I am sure.”

Aure had a lot to say, and Ephraim found himself a little slack-jawed as he considered the light-haired Skayona. He felt that her advice was unsolicited but he wasn't one to interject, normally, and kept his trap shut, merely nodding in semi-grateful acceptance of her opinion. Ephraim knew he should depart from his role in the pack and find something that suited him better, and it was nice hearing it from someone else, but that also felt a little bit like admitting he was a failure, something he wasn't keen on doing. Especially considering recent developments.

The rest all kind of bled together. Aure did answer his questions, but took her time getting to the point, and by then Ephraim's interest had waned somewhat. He politely waited for her to finish, though, then wet his lips contemplatively. What to say in response to all of that?

Why do you talk about the sky like it's alive? was what he settled on; after all, there wasn't much to say about Currituck (he hardly knew her, truth be told) and he wasn't super interested in hearing more about the mountains, considering he would never see them. Another day, perhaps Ephraim would have shown more interest in distant places and been more pleasant company... but being as morose as he was of late, it was hard to find interest for much of anything. It wasn't personal, though Ephraim hoped Aure wouldn't notice enough to take it thusly.

Just as much as she seemed unaware of talking the ears off of all kru, she didn’t seem to take his next inquiry to heart. Rather, it gave her pause once she settled down; and for a moment considered that, to those others, she might as well speak of the heavens as if they were alive. When it came to her self-seasoning of the skies, Aure wasn’t one to boast — not as Stigmata was keen to, anyways.

Speaking of the skies was like... like... How to put this into less decorative words? She’d always had trouble with connecting with others, nevermind on a less-flowery basis; something she always fidgeted at, humming in thought. ”It... it is how ze sky is for me, I suppose. You could say, er, it is like revisiting a fond friend,” she began, a little haltingly. ”Only, rather than every other fortnight, it is every other night, for me. I... I was born beneath ze stars, and...” This was where she faltered, then upon the reasonings and the whys as she nibbled on a scarred lip.

Unbidden, and more to herself than directly to Ephraim, she queried, ”You, ah, know Verx, yes?”—she was sure the younger male did. Although she’d given out her little origin story to few upon first meeting, dragul had been the first. The first to know that, and more, but, ”Ze stars were there on ze night when... when my brother and I had been desecrated,” a quiet cant of her muzzle, to her red hurts. ”We’d been some months younger than yourself, and then some.”

Aure withdrew into herself a little bit, but continued, ”Stars were — and remain — my constant, even if there is, er, no true use for them on ze cliffs.” A flustered little roll of her shoulder, ”They were there for me when I thought my brother had died in his sleep beside me. They were there for me, too, when he awoke ze night after. I... suppose it is why I speak of stars as if they breathe; but they must, somehow, to shine so brightly, no?”

He didn't know why he expected anything but a long-winded explanation, but it was difficult for Ephraim not to want to roll his eyes as she went on and on about it, alluding to things he didn't know anything about. He felt impolite, being so impatient with Aure's manner of speaking, but it was just part of who he was now. His patience was worn thin by stress. It happened to the best of wolves, and no matter what Ephraim thought or how he presented himself, he was very much still a kid on the verge of a mental breakdown. He didn't have the time or attention span for these kinds of long, philosophical discussions.

So he did his very best to listen, but a lot of it went over his head. She and her brother had been desecrated? Her brother had almost died? What did Vercingetorix have to with any of this, and why was it only every other night? It was all too confusing and convoluted for him. By the time she finished his face had darkened into the lax thousand yard stare of an art student in a lecture about the reproductive habits of damselflies.

It took several seconds, therefore, from the moment Aure finished to Ephraim acknowledging her in any way, which surely made him look like a slack-jawed buffoon. Huh, interesting, he said unconvincingly, though he winced a little when he realized that his disinterest might come across as insulting. He definitely wasn't cut out to be a Skayona if this was the kind of stock from which most naturalists sprang. He could never care that much about the stars or anything inanimate and unliving. What does Verx have to do with any of that?

overdue & quick ending oof

A part of her had been aware of Ephraim's boredom, and all the while there'd been a little voice in the back of her mind, yapping at her to just shut up already! At his query of what this had to do with the cheka, well - she'd known she'd prolonged his suffering enough at it was.

So as much as she'd liked to answer him, Aure decided it was in both of their best wishes to put this rambling to a close. Being as it was, although she did not reveal to the boy any further things of herself, she did conceed to bid him a meek farewell, before wbbling to her paws and straggling right back up the cliff-face she'd picked her way down.

Aure wondered and hoped, despite all the awkward discussions tonight, that Ephraim wouldn't dwell on the haunting that'd come with the mark Rusalka'd left on the cliffs. It didn't do well to dwell on such melancholy things; but then again, she barely knew the lad, didn't she?