Moonspear Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job

Only when a heart did heal was it able to break again, a shattered glass hardly held together by glue once again falling to ruin. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter now—her littermates were all gone, leaving her alone on the mountain. Perhaps she was to blame for it all, perhaps… had she not fallen so far down the rabbit hole, had she not allowed her grief to consume her—would they all still be there? Hydra remained, as she always would, as did her sisters and their families; they remained together whilst those she once shared a womb with were gone to the wind.

Perhaps, perhaps—

Defeated by the world itself, there was little left to hurt her, little more pain to endure. As the days passed her by, creeping slowly into a new season, there was a numbness developing from within, incomparable to even the strongest of winter storms. If she could endure this, all of this—if she could continue to make it through life like this, to grow stronger from it all, maybe it would be enough to bring her family back together.

Keeping the thought close to her, Yama descended the mountain and took to the woodland, nose to the ground and searching—for a meal or a soul, she would take either.

In prowling the woods in pursuit of his next hunt, the dark Ostrega's trail carried him along to sign of Yama's recent route. Interested enough in checking up with her, especially with everything as of lately considered, he shifted course and made short work of what remained to separate them. Soon, relieved when he could see her earthen shades, he announced himself with a low chuff, and slipped from between the trees to hopefully join her.

Intending to place himself beside her, and maybe even match stride if she kept to hers, his tail swayed gently as he said Hey, first and foremost, while he would gauge the rest of it from there. Jarilo felt that they could benefit from a little catch-up, or even just some company if she wouldn't mind his any--despite the fact that they had never been overly close before; she was a reclusive sort, he knew, taking those habits from their mother and honing it for herself while he was often pulled this way or that lately. But, now they were both the last remainders of their littermates who roved these slopes. He wanted to know that she was handling it alright--as well as any of them could hope to, at least.

had 2 nab

Where scent trails evaded her, the steady patter of footfalls reached her ears eagerly. Swiveling her ears to better determine the direction of origin, she slowed and glanced towards her elder brother just as he slipped into place next to her. Briefly, her pace faltered as she wondered whether she should stop or continue—but with the latter option chosen, she hardly missed a stride anyway. “Hey,” she returned, voice quiet and strained, unaccustomed to being in use; when keeping to herself atop the mountain’s peaks, there was no use for words. Anything to be said to herself never strayed from her mind and those she would see in passing never received anything more than an acknowledging nod, if that. And for that, her voice paid the price now.

Yama was quiet for a long moment thereafter, uncertain. Even before things went downhill, she was never particularly close with Jarilo; she knew him as her brother and viewed him as such, too, but there was not much of a bond there. He was hardly anything more than a stranger, truthfully, and she blamed herself for that. Swallowing nervously, she glanced his way once more, and asked, “What are you doing here…?”

In the quiet of the moment, he let it be for a short time, unbothered as their steps carried on. Company with her was not common for him, but he held her in dear favor all the same but it occurred to him that she might be more aware of the distance between them. Hunting, mostly. he replied easily with a small smirk despite not having any good trails to act on for the moment. A work in progress, of course. Trying to, anyway, at least until I go back to more patrol, he added, since the earlier endeavors went on without a hitch, and even without his continual presence, he knew the outerlands were covered. It seemed like lately, his efforts were probably better spent divided, soon to be mothers and their new whelps to consider and all.

Same question, though. What are you doing down here? he asked, for as well as he knew, she was not a frequent feature of these woods. How have you been? the older brother asked, though it was up to her how much she answered with, of course.

As he spoke, she fell silent, listening to his reasoning. He was there to hunt, an attempt made between patrols, she gathered. “I… I can help with hunting?” she offered, albeit awkwardly. Truthfully, she wasn’t too sure how much help she could be; oftentimes her hunts were small and quick meals to feed herself atop the mountain. To hunt as a pair… well, it wasn’t a concept she was particularly accustomed to, her time spent alone wearing well into the skills she should have as a pack animal. But she was lacking, and this she was well aware of.

To take her mind off of it, she asked, “What are your patrols like?” Hunting she could do on her own, generally speaking, as long as the prey was small. But patrols were something she’d never touched on, her interest in accompanying others on them minimal, at best; she asked now only because she was curious about him, wanting to better learn about her family member.

“I… I don’t want to be by myself anymore,” she answered after the question was returned. “I thought by coming down here, maybe… maybe I would run into someone.” And she did: her older brother. Her brother with more questions, his next a difficult one to answer. “I think I’m getting better,” was her response, practically dripping with uncertainty. “I want to be better.” A better packmate, a better sister… a better aunt, a better daughter… she didn’t want to continue to be carried through life on the backs of others.

Good! Because my trails so far haven't been the best, but it's early still, he swung his head forward in a gesture very welcoming to more of her company, however she may see fit to provide it. He did often do best when there was a task involved--something to structure himself around, and maybe she could enjoy the same. Patrols are usually a lot of routine, honestly, and a good day is one just like the one before and hardly more than an attentive walkabout. Like take this morning: quiet, mostly covering ground to make sure everything is peaceful and a lot of marking to keep things fresh. Easily he could go on, more towards the times when it was not so straightforward. He knew to stay prepared, because complacency would do them no favors. Since even before spring started coming on, we've had a few stubborn foxes hanging around low on the mountain.. but around here we don't generally find too many trespassing sorts, wolf or otherwise. Most things with a nose get the hint, though to mix it up a bit, there's always the Glen to consider too... A claim this long-lasting with this much traffic didn't leave a lot of room for doubt, so often, the mountain remained secure.

Before his explanations could go further, though (and he gladly would if she wanted to hear it), he had to give her credit. That's good, I mean.. not that being by yourself is always a bad thing, but that you're getting better, and know some of what you'd like it to be--that's an important step, after all, he said, his efforts at encouragement a bit unsteady but sincere--a point he hoped to drive home with a matching tail sway and fond expression. Jarilo wanted her to know he could be a useful someone to help her at this, at her pace, because he had never been someone in any particular hurry himself. He was still figuring out what he wanted most days to be like, too, and only more recently was he beginning to grow into a role fit to make their parents truly proud.. or so he liked to believe. I'd like to do what I can to help with that, in any way of course. We're both the last ones of our respective litters still here, alive and kicking on this mountain, after all. I think that's worth something, at least.. a start, he half-rambled when he didn't know quite how else to package his feelings, or how she might take his deluge of words, too.

There was a split second during which she was borderline regretful over having asked, as he dove into a full explanation; Yama was not against words but, having secluded herself for so long, she was notably overwhelmed by the constant flow of his voice. But she followed along as best she could, nodding when it seemed appropriate, although, in the end, she didn’t fully understand the appeal. That is was a necessity, she understood, but for someone to seem happy and willing to partake in it…? It left her baffled—but to match her confusion was a subtle interest, a sliver of doubt in herself. Perhaps she found herself disinterested in the task simply because she’d never done it before, and therefore had no experience to relate his words with. “Maybe we could patrol and hunt?” she suggested, attempting to display at least a bit of interest in it—clearly, she would never match his own but… whatever she had to do to readjust. “I want to see what it’s like for myself,” she added, genuinely curious—or rather, she sought an experience to link with his explanation, to see if she might perhaps enjoy it, too.

More words came and Yama, once more, tried her best to follow along; she offered a small smile here and there, appreciative of his words, despite how many there were—it was a drastic change from the silence she’d grown so accustomed to, after all, but she wanted to learn to enjoy it. To partake in a conversation as well as he was able, and to do so with as much ease. But, for now, she would settle for baby steps.

“I think I will always like time to myself,” she admitted. “It… is what I’ve gotten used to. But I don’t want that all of the time.” Not anymore. And when he offered help, she faltered—her recovery was quick and the slight stumble hardly noticeable. “I think—” a pause, as she pondered what to say. “—I think your company is help enough, if you don’t mind mine.” Interaction was all she truly needed, someone to observe and learn from. If she could have that, maybe everything else would come easier. Maybe she could even someday be as outgoing as her brother, as quick to answer questions and offer help—maybe, someday.

For matters he was well-versed in and easily invested in, all within a comfortable scene, he was quick to overload. Maybe it was too much, but he didn't need much encouragement when it came to opening the floodgates of ramble. As one able to be talkative when he was at ease, especially from a family prone to quiet sorts, he was also used to this being overbearing--or obnoxious. But, he nodded easily with a soft grin to match. Of course, it's easy for them to go together when you're on the lookout, he replied. There's been plenty of times when I set out for one and end up finding the other, he mentioned, and of course, he was happy to be there with her while she tested them for her own tastes.

He wanted to believe he could help provide a safe opportunity, no judgements or pressures, for her to try them and if one of them that he did favor didn't work out for Yama, then so be it; he was just glad to give her the chance. And hopefully, they wouldn't find anything dire on their circuit to completely turn her away from it, though that was sometimes just up to luck. Though.. most days did trend towards quiet, there was never any knowing ahead of time.

Then, after a thoughtful, but fleeting pause: I think that's important to be able to appreciate that time to yourself. Some cannot, and.. that seems like it would be stressful to me, since it seems easy to spiral into being alone strictly meaning.. loneliness, or worse, when it doesn't have to, he detailed, perhaps generously, but he righted quickly. A bit of both is nice, I think. And I definitely don't mind your company, any time, so long as mine's not too rambling for your tastes either, he smirked back at her, good-natured as he was. Though life was sure to keep him busy in the weeks to come, from rank and family alike, he wished to hold fast to the siblings he still had here with him; they were awfully few and far between compared to what had once been, and some distant part of him would always ache for this. What did their parents think? Jarilo had never missed their encouragement to fly freely if life and opportunity called for it, but were these the circumstances they had envisioned? Something made him want to doubt that when he thought too hard about it.

The suggestion made was agreed to and further insight provided; she wondered what the end result of their trek might be, whether it be a mere patrol or if they might fell prey—but, on the off chance they found something, would the two of them alone be able to handle it? Whether it be predator or prey, could two alone endure the task? Yama did not doubt her elder brother, nor any of her family members for that matter—but she did doubt herself, and could not help but question how much help she would truly be. No matter, she put on a brave face and nodded, eager to at least try—

—the effort put forth matters more than the results yielded, right?

Time to oneself proved to be a good thing, which she was thankful for; although she did wish to begin expanding her horizons a bit, Yama did not, in the meantime, want to be viewed any longer as the local hermit. But if Jarilo, as extroverted as he seemed to be, could understand the necessity of time alone, perhaps others would, too. It brought a larger smile to her face, one capable even of bringing light to her eyes; genuine joy, it seemed. “I was… taken aback by so many words at first,” she admitted. “But I think I appreciate it now.” She found she much preferred to listen, rather than speak herself—others were easier to understand that way.

Gently, she bumped her shoulder to his before picking the pace up slightly—and then, ultimately, slowed again to fall in line with him; she wanted to observe what he did on patrols, after all, and couldn’t do that very well if she simply plowed ahead.

I know I can be chronically wordy when it's something I do know about, he replied, though apologetically splayed his ears despite the snicker he punctuated with, self-depreciation no stranger. He did freeze up, tight-lipped, when he was less certain though. And I've had a lifetime of lessons, plus, when I was young, I was a pest with questions. Annoyed the hell out of our mom with it, believe me, from a family that doesn't always say a whole lot, he added as well, to prove his point and make it be just so much. But really, he took no offense--though he'd try not to open the floodgates so badly on her, even if she had coped with listening this time. It could be a lot to sort through. But among all the noise that does come pouring out of my running mouth, I'm glad some of it might be almost useful, he added, smirk included as she sped up a notch.

Above all, he was.. glad for a moment like this, however simple it may seem on the surface, and even if it veiled itself as duty. He watched her settled back beside him, then cast a wandering look beyond their route. The winds had shifted, though the change was terribly subtle. Smells a little like foxes.. but it might be too old to have anything to do with it, he supposed aloud, before he took a quick pause for a pee (all the talk had worked one up, apparently) on the nearest, knee-high sort of brush--honestly, he wasn't discerning enough to linger for a second thought, his focus elsewhere, on ahead. Anyway, he jogged back, squinting. Maybe it was just an overly hopeful nose, but maybe it had been something. He still didn't see any signs of actual mischief, or worse, though.

They carried on, together, with this vague pursuit and a conversation that came and went as it needed to from there.