Broken Antler Fen soolai, soolai, soolaimon

Now that Towhee was back and doing better, Caracal found himself in excess of both energy and free time. Today, he decided to use up a little bit of both by paying a visit to Brecheliant. He hoped to see his dad and wondered if Tierra might be there too. But he would be lying if he said he wasn't mostly looking forward to the possibility of bumping into Bridget again.

When his nose told him he was approaching the heavily marked borders of the fen, Caracal stopped with a flourish. With a small smile on his lips, he threw back his head and howled to announce his presence.

The young man would meet neither his beau, nor his father, but a grayscale she-wolf, old by his standards, who happened to roam around the borders, checking out the various scents of animals other than wolves. Lele had caught sight of movement earlier - his russet pelt was hard to miss against still very green backdrop of grass and brush. Her first impression had been that of a fox, then of the most peculiar wolf she had ever met. 

Cautious and curious about, what he was going to do, she drew closer quietly and sat down, observing him keenly. It surprised her that he acted with a sense of familiarity - he was not afraid of the borders the least - which could mean that he either was mannerless by nature or he knew someone here. The latter was proven to be true. And when no one responded to his call, she thought it was appropriate in this situation to make her presence known and find out, what he wanted. 

"Good day," she greeted him, when she came out in the open to stand in front of him. "What's your business here?" 

Even though he didn't recognize the wolf who appeared along the borderline, Caracal waved his tail. He stood still, letting her approach, ducking his head as she came closer. When he sneaked a peek upward through his eyelashes to get a glimpse of her up close, his breath caught in his throat. Forgetting decorum for a moment, he whipped the rest of his head upward to goggle at the disfigured half of her face.

She greeted him as if nothing was amiss. Caracal blinked, realized he was staring and dropped his head again. "Business?" he repeated stupidly. Feeling flustered, he took a breath and said, "Sorry. I'm Caracal. I was looking for my dad, sister or Bridget, if any of them are around." He paused, then couldn't help but wonder, "Are you... okay?" Tentatively, his eyes raised again, trying to ascertain her wound without being rude about it.

Without looking daily at her reflection, Lele often forgot that her face may give creeps to those, who saw it for the first time. No wonder, she frowned, when Caracal's first reaction was that of shock and repulsion. Her looks did not define her, but it did sting, when upon the first meeting, they acted as if she was an invalid. Pity and sympathy offered, when it was not asked for, hurt.

She had to remind herself that the guy meant well and probably hadn't encountered any occasions, where these good intentions paved a road to hell. She ignored his last question and focussed on, what was important. "Any message I should give them? Since none are around presently?" he would not want to wait outside borders for very long, would he? Because she was not going to give him permission to enter.

She ignored his question, which made Caracal feel a flush of chagrin. He fully averted his eyes, though not before noting that the flesh on the left side looked more like scar tissue than a fresh wound. His concern faded, though not his curiosity. He wondered how she'd been injured and whether it still hurt. Was it as healed as it would ever get?

He knew he shouldn't ask, so he didn't. Anyway, she wanted some answers from him. "No, not really," Caracal was forced to admit. He paused for a beat before wondering, "What's your name?"

With nothing of importance to say or do, Lele saw no point in continuing the conversation. Time was a precious thing and he should not waste either his or hers. "I will pass the message that you stopped by to Teya and Eljay, but you should leave now,"  she ignored yet another question of his (no intention to be rude - she simply forgot that he had asked something) and looked at him pointedly. She was not going to give him advice on time management, but she was very good at making it evident that this brief interview was up.

Not only didn't she give him a name, she told him to leave. Caracal's head reared back in genuine surprise. Weren't their packs allies? What had he done to earn such cold and dismissive treatment?

"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused and curious. "I mean, can't I wait here and see if one of them comes around? Oh," Caracal blurted suddenly, wondering if maybe she didn't realize. "You know our packs are allies, right? I'm from Redhawk Caldera. Sorry, I should've said that earlier," he apologized, tail wagging a bit sheepishly, hoping this would thaw her a little bit.

Caracal refused to obey Lele's polite request and she listened to the rest of his arguments of staying right, where he was, with a weakly concealed annoyance in her expression. Whatever his alliance with the pack was, the important thing here was that he had  questioned the authority of an older person. It would occur to her later that, while Larkspur had not been her birth-mother, nor had she been a good parents, she had still managed to teach her stepdaughter a thing or too. Pass over some qualities. And at this moment Lele was more a Larkspur than her gentle-hearted father Tambourine. 

"You have no proof of, who you are and whether you belong to the pack you claim to live in," she told him coolly and took a step forward, eyes trained on the young man's face and her body language displaying both dominance and a threat of consequences, if her earlier request was not fulfilled.

He blinked at her retort, rendered speechless. He had never had to prove his identity before. Caracal's mouth opened and closed, yet he could think of nothing to say. It slowly dawned on him that he would not win her over. He should just leave and try again some other time, avoiding this ugly woman if at all possible.

He felt a little bad for thinking such a mean thought but it was more about her attitude than her appearance. Still silent, he threw up his arms as if to say, Okay, have it your way. With a last slightly befuddled look, Caracal then did as she commanded and left.