Redhawk Caldera ghosts in the willows

@Oleander - nighttime, 55 degrees F. 

The crags here were huge - hard to climb, but the boy was determined to get to the top. He was careful in his steps, calculating them as he would in a fight. And it was remarkably easy, he realized, when he got into the swing of things. For just a while, here, he could forget about things - forget that there was still a puppy to find, forget that he'd hurt Memory, forget about his past. 

Finally, Clarence reached the top, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. It was warm out tonight, with just a hint of wind to ruffle his splotched fur, and it felt even more crisp at the top of the mountain. The boy closed his eyes against it with a small smile. When he opened them again, he surveyed his surroundings. 

Lush greenery surrounded him, leading down to the base of a smooth lake, reflecting the moon above. Clarence padded down to the water and lowered his head to take a drink, admiring the ripples his tongue caused on the surface.

He had settled here at sunset, nestled under a certain set of stacked rocks. Half asleep by the time night had settled over the lands. By the time he noticed the stranger, he thought it nothing more than an illusion of moonlight.

A poor companion he was at that moment as he raised himself to a standing position. A tired huff escaped him as he walked a tiny circle. Then nestled right back down.

Clarence's eyes flicked over toward the source of movement and he tipped his head to the side. The figure was settling down for the night, it seemed, and Clarence suddenly realized that his own body ached with exhaustion.

The boy lowered his head and approached the resting wolf, ears angled forward. "Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?" he asked, voice hushed, and came to a crouched halt a few meters away from the other wolf.

Oh. It talked. Well, that wasn't right for something imaginary. Although a harder look at the figure made them seem less ghastly and more solid.

No. Mumbled softly with one tired eye fixed on the stranger. Place is pretty big and...I don't own it all or anything. He didn't own any inch of it, actually. Something dawned on him as he watched the stranger.

Just don't think you can get cuddly. Offered first with a huff of air. There's miles of space to sleep.

Oh, his eyes were very pretty. Bright green and silvered in the moonlight. Clarence smiled slightly and waved his tail in an attempt to be friendly. 

Clarence settled onto the ground a few meters away, stretching out and relaxing against the cool ground. "Don't worry, I won't," he assured with a slight chuckle. "I don't own it either, but it's really cool up here."

The boy peeked one red eye open to look at the boy. "My name's Clarence," he offered, feeling as though it was customary before they fell asleep near one another.

Clarence sounded like a silly name. Which was ripe coming from the guy with Oleander for a name — not that he thought such a thing.

'M Oleander. Huffed as he shifted some more, the pebbles and stones under him threatened to prod his ribs. Where you from, Clarence? Since it was seemed pretty dang clear neither of them came from this place.

Oleander was a cool name, Clarence thought, in direct contrast to the other boy's thinking that his name was silly. But their names were a bit similar in feel, he thought - it was neat. 

"I'm from south of here. My pack lives in the woods," he explained, curled tail thumping on the ground a few times. It was nice of the boy to want to talk to him rather than being angry at his forwardness. "What about you?" Clarence continued, laying his chin on his forepaws and looking up at the green-eyed wolf.

Pack down in the woods sounded pretty standard to him. Nothing crazy like a mountain dweller. And then the question was turned on him. While that was probably fair, he didn't really have a good answer!

Uhhh, Drawn out as one hind paw came up to lazily scratch his face. Not really from here. Did the whole leaving home thing that you do. Or at least what he had been taught to do.