Lone Star Mountain see in the dark

She saw the mountains long before they reached them. They stretched across the entire horizon and were, in a word, inevitable. Not long after crossing a creek, Haunt led the way into the foothills, threading through the rocks until climbing became unavoidable. Instinctively avoiding the scent of a pack, she slipped a little to the north and began scaling a very barren and bleak slope, @Vex hopefully in tow.

Long after darkness fell around them, making visibility very poor, Haunt woofed to get her brother to stop. She looked around, wondering if they were being followed. Would their mother come after them? The thought made an ear twitch as she sighed and dropped wearily to the ground to rest. Despite how tired she felt, she tipped her pale snout skyward to sift through the smells on the breeze.

She could still smell the very pack they'd skirted. Haunt wondered if they shouldn't have steered clear, after all. What if they knew something about Kaertok? She exhaled through her nose, eyelids drooping as her yellow gaze sought Vex in the dark.

darkness fell; first like a veil and then a blanket across the flatlands as they headed towards the mountain range that had been a small swell from the limits of the bypass.

falling back into his place as rear guard, trying to keep a keen eye on the shadows around them that taunt him with intent easily taken to be malicious. he shares a similar feeling as haunt, but refuses to look back. come hell or high water, they'd made their decision and turning back wasn't an option.

hadn't been an option when vex originally set off into the grove, and then pushed further. it was an unspoken understanding that arbiter would tan their hides, likely regardless, but the small part of vex that worries about the punishments awaiting them hopes that by finding kaertok they can help soften the blow.

his sister's golden gaze finds him in the darkness that engulfs them and let outs out a low reassuring chuff to communicate 'i'm here'. he draws in a breath, the scent of the pack they skirted around lingering up the sharp scent of fallslick rock. d'you think we should find a place to rest? until morning? to vex, this makes sense. they are in unfamiliar terrain and too young to really be out on their own ...and though he doesn't exactly want to come right out and say it:

he's tired.

She snorted in response to his question, the look in her eyes fond despite the derisive noise. "Yes, here," she answered him simply, thumping a paw on the shale to invite him to come rest alongside her. The temperature had dropped significantly, so they should stay together to keep warm.

While Vex presumably got settled, her mind drifted back to the nearby pack. She wished she could simply send up a howl, asking for any information about Kaertok from anyone within earshot. But Arbiter might overhear and come put a stop to this. Haunt didn't want to risk anything thwarting them from locating their sire.

For a long time, she remained quiet. If not for holding up her head, Vex might even think she'd fallen asleep. But she stared out into the darkness, contemplative. She was trying to decide their next move. Should they go visit the pack in the morning? Or should they keep going up and over the mountain and into whatever wilderness they found on the other side? How far would they go? And for how long?

"Maybe we should split up," Haunt whispered, apropos of nothing. It was perhaps the foolhardiest thing she could say, but... "We could cover more ground. And if anything stops one of us, the other can keep going."

At night, they hunted, and their business was their own. He had conferred with @Stjornuati about what he had learned of the coast and though there had been much more to discuss, the duo had delved into a pastime of their own when the last bit of light had faded along the mountains. There were always little treasures and trinkets to find along the stones and though they had number enough to hunt properly, discretion had long been their calling card.

They scavenged and searched, made their mental maps of the various ridges and rocky trails that crisscrossed the division between one sloping valley and the next. They sussed out whatever pieces and parts they could find that might tie them to their hringja, their purpose. They loitered in the safety of the raven’s and their stony roost and tonight, they scavenged for both canine and avian alike.

Along a ruddy path, he heard voices, and paused to listen.

His head turned to find Stjornuati and he leveled a question with a look—should we?

There were packs here, at least one of which he was certain but he too had scented another with the chilly air. It could have been them wandering along the slopes doing just the same, or a retinue of hungry draugr looking to test their mettle. He hadn’t the slightest clue they had come across two children out for an adventure, and they would perhaps not know that they were close to two scavengers who looked more hellhound than gentle guardian.

It was curious to the man of pale fur that so many children ran amok in these wilds without parent or guardian to herd them and protect them. Were these two separated from kith and kin as Miwa was, or had they strayed from their flock with purpose? Sharing the look with his brother, Stjornuati motioned that they move in to see what was afoot. There was an internal hesitation, a lingering doubt that these two were truly alone as Miwa had been, but they would not discover the meaning of this unless they approached.

Long legs carried him across the steeped planes of the mountain, head low to the ground as his nose caught the feathers of their scent and led him near. Like spectres in the night, the two brothers closed in, one from one side and one from the other, so that if they pups scattered, they would be easy to catch. Litlu börnin, are you lost? He asked, drawin gin their scent. The scent of others had faded some but still hung about them like cloaks of bright red. Curiouser and curiouser.

vex settles in beside his sister, drawing his tongue across his front left paw in preparation for some shut-eye, though he’s not sure how much sleep he’ll actually get. being so far from home, unsupervised ( as far as he knows anyway ), and in foreign lands sparks to life some primal instinct to remain attentive at all times.

vex’s head swings towards haunt as she suggests, then, that they should split up. were they older …like the adults kaertok saw them as …he would’ve agreed. maybe there’s some sense in vex’s head after all as he visibly hesitates; mulling over his response.

i don’t think splitting up’s a good idea. he vetos the idea, despite that he’d originally planned on going at it alone. you wanted to tag along so we go together. vex says firmly, trying to mimic the firm, ‘no negotiation’ tone he’s heard their parents use numerous times.

vex’s lips part to speak only to jump to his paws, hackles bristling at the approach of the strangers, their footfalls lost during his attempt to ‘big-brother’ haunt. the two males are large — of course significantly larger than the two kids — but vex stares them down with eyes the color of gunmetal, hoping, futilely, that it’d have the desired effect.

no. the anneriwok lies all too easily; drawing from little more than haughty bravado.

Vex vetoed her idea and Haunt didn't feel particularly nettled about it. He made a valid point. Nevertheless, she sighed. It wasn't directed toward him, it was her visceral reaction to this entire situation, the expression of her weariness. She hunkered closer to the ground, pressing her shoulder against her brother's, and fell into another ponderous silence.

When two strangers materialized, Haunt immediately rose back onto all fours. They were on either side of the pups, so Haunt instinctively turned her back to Vex to face one, leaving him to confront the other. She heard his stolid answer to the drawled question, though she didn't look at either one of them as they spoke.

Her focus remained fixed on the shadow before her, nearly invisible aside from his glowing green eyes. Haunt couldn't make much detail out in the dark, though the scent spoke of masculine strength. She licked her chops and lowered her head without thinking, drawing in an uneasy breath.

She felt fear, of course she did. They were unknown. And though she and Vex weren't technically outnumbered, they were certainly "outgunned." Haunt desperately wished Kaertok was here, or even @Arbiter. Their mother surely wanted to kill them, though she was a safer bet than two wildcards appearing out of the night.

That thought prompted Haunt to speak more quickly than ever before in her life. "No," she corroborated Vex, "our father and mother are close by. Hunting."

The children were sharp, rising to meet them out of the darkness instead of just cowering and running away. It amused him, just as much as their answers to Stjornuati’s probing did. The boy offered them a curt response, but the girl elaborated further and he saw it for what it was—a means to wave them away. Solpallur’s gaze roamed over and past them to see beyond, but he could not help but wonder why they had been left alone. Hunting in the night was certainly one particular pastime he enjoyed too, but the mountains were not the place for it in his opinion.

His nose worked the air curiously, putting their comment to the test.

“Við veiðum—” he begun in a rumble, but cut off. They would not understand him, just like the others. “This one and this one’s brother hunt,” he supplied instead, the common tongue still a stilted and horrid thing in his mouth. His gaze had come back to them then, resting on the adverted gold gaze of the child before him. She did not favor him, but the deference would not sway his watching eyes.

“Hvað er að foreldrunum hérna?” he asked aloud, this time for Stjornuati to hear. “Þetta gerir þrjú börn sem við höfum fundið, af hverju reika þeir svona?” He did not like it, though his tone any time suggested he wasn’t fond of anything in particular at all.

His gaze shifted to the boy, and then his brother, and he pondered further.

“We call them? Your kin,” he went on, ever-stilted. “This one thinks… börnin not be alone. Not here. The… Stjornauti, how you say stóru kettirnir hunt too now.” His teeth clicked together for emphasis, frustrated with his lack of mastery. And when he rounded his gaze back on the girl and her wary expression, he murmured roughly: “Do not fear.”

But they probably would.

Their parents had taught them well, Stjornuati observed, watching as their backs went to touch, their answers firm and guarded. Despite this, the pale wolf did not believe their statement, much as Solpallur did not. The darker wolf gave voice to the thoughts that circled his own mind, nodding to show as much.

Yes, He answerred, before the children could discourage them so. There was no reason for mothers and fathers to leave their babes in such a locale, so even if he had believed them, it was possible that Stjornuati would have called for their guardians no matter what. As it was, his head tipped, muzzles rising to loose a long, low note to resonate against shale and stone, calling for whoever was out in the darkness and undoubtedly searching for these two.

There had been little time for rest. The coyote was a detour that she had felt was necessary, but she wished it hadn't taken as long as it had, but she didn't dally after the kill, and some specs of the evidence still clung to her fur. Look, she didn't need to outsmart a CSI team here, it was just a coyote, the thing she needed was to find her kids.

And she wasn't too far behind by now, lucky or unlucky for them, the freshness of the trail had driven her on. Was this all because of Kaertok? While they might miss him, her opinion went strongly the other way. She had asked for warning of him leaving before, but if he wasn't dead under a rock somewhere, there wasn't much of an excuse. To be brief: he simply wasn't worth the effort his children were putting forth to find him. If they were just adventuring for the hell of it, they weren't much less foolish.

The howl increased her pace, and she'd likely appear on the scene far before they were expecting. Her fur bristled as she galloped forward, a pale ghost appearing from the darkness night, face lit in a snarl that grew for two reasons. She was angry, angry at the children, angry at the world, and she was in absolutely no mood for nonsense. Had the two strangers been farther from her brood, she probably would have focused on bowling the pups over and teaching them a thing or two about respecting the rules that they had so flagrantly broken. But as that was not the case, she didn't stop at a distance but continued forward to take a protective position up near her children, not feeling safe at calling them back to meet her with the way the men were positioned. Arbiter's ears were forward, tail stiff behind her, eyes flicking between the strangers. But she asked nothing with her voice, her sharp glance and teeth asking what the hell was going on from anyone who'd answer.

hiii mom!

we don't need you to call anyone. vex quips quickly; not knowing that arbiter was hot on their tails anyway. we told you. we're not lost. vex repeats, voice accented with an indignant tone. he makes the assumption that no one would answer anyway ...which makes him wander what the two males planned to do with them when that was the case.

he's comforted by haunt at his back, and his upper lip curls back as he stares down the stranger facing him; summoning all the haughty bravado his lanky, still growing body can hold, scoffing at the assurance not to fear.

who's afraid? he sneers; leaning on his sarcasm as his defense mechanism to hide that he's worried ( ok, maybe he's a little scared ). fear, ironically; hits him like a wrecking ball as arbiter appears like an hellhound of wrath. he wants to shoot haunt a look but doesn't dare move his gaze from the stranger even as he swallows thickly because he knows once this situation is dealt with haunt and him were in for some deep shit.

Little did she know, her lie was in fact the truth. When the wolf closer to Vex howled for their parents, Haunt's heart thudded in her chest. Neither one would come and even an answer was unlikely, though perhaps Arbiter might overhear it. That was as far as Haunt's guessing went before her mother abruptly manifested as if the howl had magically summoned her there.

Haunt should've found the sight reassuring, even though she knew her mother would be angry with them. Arbiter's wrath was likely preferable to whatever these strangers might have in store for them. Instead, her appearance triggered the pup's fight-or-flight response. For the moment, she didn't even consider Kaertok or her joint effort with Vex to track down their father. Haunt thought of no one and nothing at all as she simply sought to flee all the perceived threats.

The terrain was rocky and unfamiliar. And it was dark. Heedless of these obstacles, Haunt sprang into the shadows beside her swarthy adversary, intending to slip past him like a ghost and vanish into the night.

Much to his surprise, it definitely seemed there was a shred of truth to the girl’s words. Out of the darkness and growth along the mountainside erupted one very angry mother; the very thunder of her snarl made Solpallur bristle uncomfortably and curl his own lips back in response to her. His tongue lashed out between the narrow gap of his teeth, only for it to disappear and his jaws click shut just as quickly when the paler of the two children bolted from the very spot.

He was torn then, jerking in an attempt to try and follow her and knowing it was the wrong move to pull. He did not look for a fight here though he favored a squabble over talk—if there was one thing that the northerner knew well, it was that there was no greater tempest than the one unleashed by a mother trying to protect her young.

“Heimskulegt móðir,” he chided her in his rough mother tongue, “we do not harm the börnin. Keep safe. Fáðu börnin þín.” His teeth clacked together to get his point across, displeased that she had left them lying where they were. His snout snapped to the direction the girl had gone, gesturing.

“Taktu son þinn.” Another command.

He cared not if she understood, the spark of disappointment and ire in his gaze would explain.

Where Solpallur did not chase after the child, Stjornuati's reflexes were too quick to draw anything but a chase from him. Prey ran. Bolted, even. Predators chased. Behind him, he left the trio: the raging mother, the bewildered brother, the fearful child. All of it whisked away just as easily as the wind combed through his fur, strides long and powerful as he ran after the pale girl.

Thought gave way to action, catching up with the child in a brief stretch of time before instinct ruled supreme. The diminuitive size was perfect for the next movement, jaws reaching as he overtook the girl and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, where teeth might puncture but lack the harm of any other bite.

If there had been words to spit at her, they were muffled by the fur against his tongue, the muscles of his neck pulling taught as he promptly dragged her back the way she had come, back to her fang-faced mother. She could pitch a fit all she licked but with his teeth latched into flesh and fur, it was unlikely she'd rip away from him without bringing great harm to herself.

The one man was starting to explain -- even if he was particularly hard to understand, some was clearly not a language she'd heard before. Claiming they weren't going to harm her pups despite boxing them in the way they were. 

All might have been well and good aside from the fact that Haunt then bolted. And apparently her shout of, HAUNT, and despite her name almost doubling as "halt," that seemed ineffective. There was far too much of her father in that child -- and considering he had up and vanished, Kaertok hadn't exactly proven to be a particularly reliable role model. From a prowl she sped up to run forward again.

Problem being, there were two of them, chase one, the other could escape, and they had enough control over their own bodies now that she couldn't capture and retrieve fast enough to keep them on the same track. She had to make the practical decision, between the certain location of her son and the uncertain path of her daughter, and she chose the former. Her bound forward came to a halt and she spun to Vex -- the one easier to control just by virtue of him freezing rather than sprinting -- entirely ready to tackle and pin him to the ground if he tried to move an inch, but with a terse question that maybe could put her ahead of Haunt if there was a particular location in mind, Where were you going? Besides right into a pit of trouble. They'd successfully done that bit real well. You were being hunted. And not just by her, but by the now-dead coyote. Her glance flicked to the men -- man, the other disappeared -- and the direction Haunt had gone down -- then back to Vex. There was underneath that the anxiousness of wanting to chase, but also not wanting to lose the child that was here. She couldn't be in two places at once. This had never been an issue with Terance's children. If she was to chase her daughter, Vexation needed to not earn that name right now. They needed to go catch her.

the scene unfolds at a rapid pace that leaves vex scrambling to keep up. haunt bolts and he hesitates, watching as the pale male tears after her. vex's hackles bristle and his feet itch, wanting to bowl after him ( as he could really do anything ). but he's torn, between arbiter's wrath — not solely directed at him and the dark stranger who he doesn't trust.

his heart flutters rapidly in his chest. w-west! vex spits out. we were lookin' for dad! he yells; startled and confused and angry. hunted? but that wasn't what scared him, though perhaps, it should've been. mom, we gotta save haunt from that man! a sharp glance was thrown to the dark male — though vex wasn't one to talk about not being able to reign in his siblings.

for now, however vexation plays the role of obedient son ( too little, too late ), waiting on arbiter's direction.

While she managed to slip past the shadowy figure, she didn't get far before stumbling on some loose scree. She didn't fall, though all momentum was lost, allowing someone—Haunt couldn't be sure who—to snatch her by the scruff. She let out an undignified yelp of surprise, fighting against the instinctive impulse to go pliant. Instead, she began to writhe as if electrocuted, her fight-or-flight response now switching into the first gear as she planted her feet to resist the subsequent pinch and tug.

Despite all her resistance, she found herself dragged back before her mother, brother and the swarthy, green-eyed shadow. Haunt's panic peaked, causing her to wrench herself severely in her assailant's grip. Fur and flesh alike tearing, she let out an earsplitting noise somewhere between a scream and a snarl. Perhaps out of sheer vehemence and will, she managed to tear herself free from his toothy grasp.

She did it with such panicked, violent, unthinking force that she flung herself into a nearby outcropping. Her head hit the stone with a sickening thunk and Haunt crumpled to the ground.

This is my last post, do with her what you will! ;)

Stjornuati was the one who couldn’t resist going after the child, though much to Solpallur’s surprise the mother didn’t go bolting right after him. Had she, the scene would have more likely devolved into a mess quickly; he would have had to chase after her, and leave the one pup to fend for himself. Only even he knew that the child wouldn’t have held still either—there was a resolute fire that burned bright in the boy, even now shrouded in the shadow of his mother.

So he watched and surveyed instead, an ear turned to listen in the direction his brother had gone off in, and his eyes locked firm on the matron and her ward. Only time would tell if his brother would succeed and come hauling her back, though the distance between them just enough to render any action near silent. He did not hear the sound of her head meeting stone, but he would hear what would follow for certain.

164 words

312

Chaos. Children, or at least this pair, was the embodiment of chaos, a force so wild and erratic that it could shift entire paradigms, the resonance of their existence warbling against the wine-glass moment. A whirlwind of thoughts, regrets, and laments thundered through his mind as the child struggled. Where his teeth not grabbing flesh and fur, he'd have commanded her to stop her nonsense, informed her that if she would stop struggling like a little demon, he would release her, herd her towards the mother who raged nearby.

The glass shattered.

The trio reached, the pale child thrashed and flailed, a fish so slippery she rent herself from his grasp before he even had a moment to release her. Heimskulegt barn.

A moment.

He watched, droplets of blood flying through the air, mangled white and red falling falling falling. He tried to move, tried to ctach her again, but there was nothing he could have done to change the outcome she had so foolishly chosen. Head met stone, body crumpled to the ground and before anyone could move, the healer's instincts drove him forward to stand over the girl, fully aware that he was chancing the mother's ire with this action.

Bíddu!

The word thundered amidst the storm of chaos, looking directly to the mother and letting all else fall away. Move her not. His voice was quieter this time, though no less frustrated. With himself, with the child, with the mother. This one is læknir. Heal. This one must check sá litli for deep hurt.

A paw lifted, slow, agonizingly slow, a careful movement as livered eyes stuck to the mother; if she held the grace to give him but a moment without attacking, the ghostly male would tune his attentions to the child once more, head lowering to set his ear abreast the young one's chest, listening. Waiting.

Hoping.

Feel free to PP if need be, don't want to hold this up but wanted to at least have her here!

Meadow—at such a delicate age and completely unable to grasp the concept that the two brothers were still accepting her presence—was hyper aware of their presence in so very many ways. The exploration of those feelings was best left kept at bay for now—but when the commotion could be heard drifting down the edges of the unforgiving mountains, Meadow was quick to appear, concern flashing within her gaze as she sidled up closer to Sol.

Her eyes flickered between them all—a strange woman, a girl, unmoving upon the ground, Stjor commanding those to keep her still, and a boy. Her fair nose crept tentatively to the soft shoulder fur of Sol, seeking to ease some of his tension and her own as well.

Arbiter continued her abrupt speech, and pointed glance towards Vex, You are not old enough! And that bit was not up for discussion. She left no breathing room before continuing, Then stay with me. I can't chase you both. Now come--- She'd started moving forward after Haunt, but then froze at the approaching noise. Her ears perked up and she looked that way. Oh? Haunt was being returned to them?

His dragging Haunt back didn't bother her at all, at least on paper. She deserved it. Arbiter slowed, features shifting to be more neutral, thinking all this was over. Hell, Arbiter might have praised him had things ended there. Except then the fool of a daughter decided to try to flee or whatever the hell her issue was. Crack!

For the first second or two it was like it hadn't even processed -- she just knocked the wind out of her, whatever. She probably deserved it. Except no -- she was actually out. Arbiter gawked, outright. She was very rarely a wolf to ever be caught off-guard and this was one of those times. Uh. What even just happened and was Haunt not waking up to bite off his nose? What? It was probably one of those feels-like-forever-but-was-actually-less types of moments.

Click. The first clue he'd best move was the crinkling of her muzzle, followed by the growl as she moved forward. Arbiter was not a size or shape that was made for sprinting, so he had a couple more seconds to move the hell away from Haunt before she got there. She would bite him if he lingered within reach when she got there, but her priority was to check Haunt herself -- even though Arbiter was no medic, she still wanted to see what the hell happened. Instinct said to protect and care for her pups and she didn't know that guy at all, or what the hell he'd maybe done to make Haunt so eager to get away from him. Back up. Had she known him as a person perhaps she'd have done exactly as he wished, but again, he was some stranger. An ear was on the now three -- where did the other come from -- wolves, the other ear on Vex, her nose and eyes on Haunt. Arbiter didn't touch her, and assuming Vex came along, she'd say to him quietly but sternly, Don't touch her, as well.

quick post before work. i tried to touch upon everything but if i missed anything feel free to poke me. <3

vex’s ears splay back against his skull as arbiter chides that they aren’t old enough. he wants to argue; it lingers like whiskey on the tip of his tongue: burning but he doesn’t get the chance to utter anything but a breath. defiant wild child as vex undoubtedly is, he also knows that he’s already in a heap of shit and running away wouldn’t be wise. not with these strangers surrounding them. his hackles prickle and a low growl rumbles in his throat as he follows his mother’s gaze to see the lighter man dragging haunt back.

with too much going on, an overload of all of his senses and all of his primal instincts — especially with the appearance of a woman, touching the large white male tentatively — he doesn’t notice haunt’s injury.

not until he shadows arbiter and realizes his sister isn’t moving. panic swells within him. haunt? he chokes out her name as he is instructed not to touch her; comforted by the fact that she still draws breath. it is brief. anger and fear meld together within vex and he turns to face the light colored man; accusation in his fierce gaze. you! he spits. you did this to her! he snarls; knowing that he didn’t stand a chance. even as an adult he’d have been hard pressed to fight off three wolves but gods how he wants to. how he doesn’t care that he’s young and green and laughable.

the rage that courses thru his veins makes him feel invincible and he just barely keeps himself from acting upon it. arbiter already had one kid out cold …but everything about his body language is hostile.

word count: 281

He heard the approach of another, head turning to catch sight of Meadow. Her presence was not unwelcome, though he disregarded her for the time being for the further breakdown of things. The mother then, full of a rage that quivered through her harsh tongue; the son followed with something that dared to boil over. He didn’t act upon it and perhaps for the better, for the sharp gaze of Solpallur held him fiercely.

It was a stalemate. He didn’t care much for those. This was a disaster.

They needed to extradite themselves.

“Við þurfum að fara,” he said to his brother. “Þeir kunna að vera fleiri og við ættum að bjarga skinnum okkar.” Even if they presently outnumbered the rightly angry party, the fact that they smelled of others had not been lost of him. A party of three stood little defense against a lurking pack.

At the mother's behest, the pale wolf moved from his place over the young female, nosing the gentle Engi as he did. Her presence, while appreciated, only ratcheted his tension a little higher. Dark eyes slid to Solpallur as he spoke in their language, nodding in agreement though he paused yet a moment to look at the mother. She yet breathes. A healer must clean her wounds and she must be watched the first day and night cycle. Wake her frequently.

And then he turned from the children and their rightfully-angry mother, looking to his companions with a grim expression writ across his face. His guilt would hang heavy across his shoulders for a while; he had never meant to hurt the child. Only catch her.

They'll exit here if they're not addressed further!

The tension was thick in the air, combing through the silver fur of the girl and causing her skin to twitch with the irritation of it. Her own muzzle found its way to either brother, not just seeking comfort to them but offering them the support; even if but from a lamb.

Still, as the Northerns began to move away, she paused only a moment, her gaze like flint upon the heated duo. It was a moment of realization for the gentle Engi, for she realized it rankled her that scorn was set upon her comrades. 

It would seem she had become attached--something she had tried so hard to not do. With a sweeping once-more gaze, she shifted, her gait gentle but sure as she strode after them.