Shadowwyn Moor It came gently calling

Inkeri stepped from the packlands. Breath frosting in the midafternoon air. The sky was clear and bright, the sun shining upon them. Lulling unsuspecting visitors into the sunny air, into a sense of peace and security.

Then the wind chill cut you through and the air would grow pressurized from the cold. However, docile creature moved through the snow drifts easily. Her sweet eyes tracing along the drifts and rises of the area. It looked lonely, barren, sad. But she imagined in teh spring it was beautiful here.Blanketed in colors that rivaled all things.

She sighed. Her thoughts going to Anja, and Lucius. She was saddened that she had not been able to make any relationships work since them. Bjarna was trying, but the language barrier was an issue, and she had no one and nothing to speak with. Her's was a lonely existence.

She briefly wondered if even the wolves of Kvarsheim would even notice if she just simply disappeared as Sanja had?

It had been a long time since the young man had wandered from the Strath.

A stiffness still laced his side where the bison had struck him, and he stopped for more breaks than he knew he would have a few months ago, before the accident. And still, he felt good to be up and about again, more himself, after many days of feeling like a stranger in his own skin.

A stranger in his skin, and in the pack. Time had given him eyes to see how very different they were from him, and though he felt guilty even thinking of leaving his mother there, those thoughts brought him out here today.

He breathed in the bitter wind strewn about along the plain. Mounded snow marked the contour of fallen trees amongst the rocks. He stepped further onto the moor, and his head turned when he caught the silhouette of another against the sun staines sky.

Oh! Hello miss, he said, and startled with a laugh. Her fur almost melded into the frosted earth, you think the wind knocked those trees down?

Forgetting traditional introductions, he danced his words to the conversation that always mattered more: hypotheses and questions relevant to no one, probably, but his own curious mind.

Hello, thank you for joining in <3

Inkeri was so oblivious to the world around, lost in he chaotic thoughts, that she wasn't prepared for another that would come upon her.

She blinked in surprise and her ears went to her skull, but for the first time in a long time she didn't bend her knees and immediately become submissive. She would blame this on the fact that she was startled and so dee in thoughts, her body just didn't work. And she would deny long into the night, that she was becoming more secure, because she daren't. She wasn't made for security and happiness.

She blinked sea green eyes at him and smiled friendly. I don't know. Know. But, been that way long time. Time. It is pretty in it's sadness. Ness.

She winced at the repetition, more proof that she was broken and not able to just be normal. Her accent pressing at the edges of her words.

This stranger though he seemed okay, he held himself stiffer than most. She wondered at it. Was he hurt? Or just not very friendly? He seemed friendly enough, so perhaps the former, but on the outside she saw no obvious markers for agony.

<3 <3 !!

Oh no - he startled her, for sure! And as her ears went slick Turmeric smiled a nervous grin and tucked in on himself, to make himself seem a little smaller. Not a hard thing to do; when it came to his height, he'd definitely gotten his mother's genes.

But she seemed to recover with a blink and a smile - seemed, being the key. He couldn't help but cup his ears at the peculiarity of her voice - the stutters and stammers. The mention of sadness. The brief wince that flickered across her face.

A familiarity stirred in his heart.

Though his mind probed after the trees, his soul probed after her.

Do you come here often, then? he asked, drawing a couple slow steps forward and closing the distance so they wouldn't have to yell over the wind. He glanced back over the windy moor. Seems like a peaceful place to think, he gave a little laugh as the wind shivered through him, cold, but peaceful.

He had a gentle face, and kindness colored the contours of his cheek. He was small, smaller than her, but not by much. Though he had a little bit more girth to him than she had to herself. But she ate barely enough, she just didn't often eat. Having grown up that way, it was a habit she just couldn't quite break. She was always afraid to eat more than she should.

Inkeri shook her head and ghosted forward on gentle paws, and then settled to her haunches to curl her ink and paper tail around snow and dirt paws.

I do. Do. She gave a decisive nod a tiny little jut to her chin. She would speak with him darnett, she was tired of being so lonely and quiet.

She sniffed. Oh no Are you cold? Cold.

She looked around. There is more cover over there. There? We can go there? If you want. want?

She neared him with what seemed like practised grace, gentle and delicate in the way she carried herself. He sensed a softness about her, something he missed in the wolves he knew. The wolves of Hildibrandr were not known for their softness.

Turmeric thought her rather pretty, with her slender face and with the way her eyes so vividly shone from the rings of black around them, and he couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious of himself. He knew his bedrest had filled him out, and even though he'd had time once he'd healed up enough to find his rhythm and work himself back to how he was before, he simply hadn't had the motivation to do anything but menial work of collecting herbs and sorting through his mother's old piles. The world had seemed too heavy to do anything more.

But he had left all that back in the Strath, or tried to, and he tried not to worry about her thoughts towards him or the press of sadness that so easily overtook him. Her soul seemed gentle, and her little edge of confidence made him smile.

Oh, only a little, he said sheepishly, a broad grin still plastered on his face, but I'd never say no to going somewhere warm, he shook himself, and signalled for her to lead with a little gesture of his paw, and said, I'm Turmeric, by the way! Good a time as ever for an introduction.

Inkeri did not consider her movements graceful. She considered them a necessity. Given how she was raised, the constant abuse. She had learned early on to make as little noise as possible, to take up as little as space as possible. And that had bled into her everyday life.

He studied her like a scholar, and it brought a small blush to her cheeks, but she quickly ignored it.

Okay you follow me. Me.

She led him towards a small outcropping of trees. That bolstered them from the wind. She would give him enough room to settle beside her. They could both enjoy the view and stay warmish.

I am Inkeri Kvitravn. ravn. Well Met Turmeric. Meric. She had difficulty with his name at first, but she was able to wrap her tongue around it by the end of it.

He followed her towards the swath of trees that hadn't yet fallen from the winds, and he considered them a moment before he joined her beneath them. Turmeric settled in next to her, and while he knew they would be warmest if they shared each other's heat, he left a small space between them but sat close enough that the wind would still have a hard time pressing through.

There was something endearing to how she tried his name, and he smiled when she finally mastered the effort. Don't worry, when I was a kid I could hardly say it myself sometimes, he said with a laugh, you can call me Merry if you'd like, it's a lot easier.

Inkeri, he repeated, and considered her again with a thoughtful look, it suits you, he said, his eyes softly aglow. He shook himself. Well, I have a question for you, Inkeri, he gestured towards the copse and the fallen trees upon the moor, have you ever thought about how much wolves are like trees?

Though it offered very little more than room. It kept them warmer a tinge than where they had been. The male Turmeric settled next to her, but he gave her space. She appreciated it.

Merry. Merry. She smiled at him. I like it. It.

He studied her again. There was a deep seated knowledge in those evergreen eyes of his. Something that hinted at more than what he appeared to be. Something she could certainly appreciate. He must be a deep thinker.

I have not. Not. How are they like trees? Trees?

Her smile broadened his own, even as he wondered what thoughts lay behind her happy face. Perhaps she was filled with a genuine content. There were wolves like that, after all. He'd been one once himself. But her remark to him about this place being pretty in its sadness made him think otherwise.

No one careless came to places like this to think. No one knew beauty in sorrowful places unless they had seen it once themselves.

Well, look at those trees out there, he gestured with his paws to the ones strewn across the ground. They lay scattered and distant from one another, with large, lonesome spaces running between them. And then, look at these trees around us, he gestured to the open space they'd found within their little copse. Sheltered, protected. They grew close to one another - and when he looked to Inkeri, he had the shine of a question in his eyes, what do you see? What do you think? What differences are there between those trees and these?

Inkeri was not content, not anymore. Once upon a time, she would have said, she was content to live her life the way she was, but now. Now. Well things changed, wolves left, wolves hurt you.

She followed his paws and studied the trees. Aquamarine eyes going to each one. A tilt to her head as she thought of what he said. There was more to this question she knew. So she wanted to be sure to answer honestly.

Those ones are lonely, but beautiful. And they hide many things beneath them. Come spring they will be home to other creatures, and small little buds will grow out of them. Hopeful. Hopeful.

She studied the trees around them. These ones are small, and yet sturdy. Using each other to keep themselves up. Up.

What do you see? See?

She had more thoughts than he had even considered, and when he looked to the fallen trees and saw them from her perspective, he saw them with those repeated words: hopeful, hopeful.

He knew the repetition was on in her stutter - but the echo drove the feeling even deeper than when she'd first said the word.

I see how the trees on the moor fell because they had no one around them, and I see how the trees in the copse are still standing because they had each other to help weather the storms. The strength of family, of our packs. But, he paused to look over the moor again, I think I like your thoughts better, and he gave a sideways grin, though I wouldn't say it made the trees out there seem very wolfish in the way I was thinking.

Hopeful. Hopeful. No, she'd given him new thoughts entirely, and his brow furrowed as he considered again. Which tree do you think you are? On both our definitions, and he smiled at her with another sheepish splay of his ears, I do very much like yours.

She was growing comfortable enough to not wince after each stutter. As she would talk it would slow as it always did. However, that didn't mean she forgot it entirely.

Her ears fell backwards at his words as she studied the ones on the moor, and it caused a blooming ache near her chest. She knew how they felt. Though she did have a better time of things now. To think just moments ago, she was thinking of disappearing. That seemed unfair to her pack mates now.

She looked at him, her gaze a little vulnerable. Growing up, I was the ones on the moor. Moor. Just sister Anja and me. Me. Then we came here. Here and Anja disappeared. Left me. Me. So then I had another friend, but he left me to. To.

She studied the trees around them. But I am hopeful. Hopeful. And I have a pack now. Now. To help me. me.

She smiled shyly. What about you? You?

He noticed the shift in her countenance, how her ears fell back when he shared his thoughts with her. He wondered if she felt it, too, that understanding shared by those who knew what it was to be alone.

Turmeric knew he had asked much of her - and that they had only known one another for a few short minutes. But she opened up, and he felt his own heart flutter. He met her gaze with gentle encouragement.

So she had been alone almost all her life. Forgotten, and left behind. It was his turn for his ears to fall back, and he offered a soft, I'm sorry, though not enough to interrupt these weighty things she shared with him. They were hardly enough to make up for the years she'd felt like those trees on the moor.

He knew what it was to lose a sibling, a friend; he knew what it was to be left behind.

But she accentuated her story with the hope she had uttered before, and he smiled a warm smile, even as his eyes felt as though they must look sad, even as she met him with a bashful look. He felt his cheeks flush.

It sounds like you're in a good place now, he said, and he meant it. His ears splayed, I should be like the trees in this copse. I have a pack and a mother who loves me, he sighed when he thought of her, and he dropped his gaze, but I feel more like the trees on the moor even when I'm with them. And not like the kind you described. I feel hopeless, even though I'd like to feel hopeful... I've had wolves leave me, too... he shook himself and offered her a half-smile, so I admire the strength you have, to keep going, to still see things for what beautiful things they could be. I know I've only known you for a little bit, but I can hear that hope in your voice. To be that tree that gives itself to others, even though so much was taken from you. One day I'd like to be like that, too. I just don't know if I'm there yet.

Even with her sister, who she loved so so much. An unhealthy type of love, the kind that made her wish to do nothing, but be with her. To do as whatever her sister had asked. Because she needed her, and she had told herself, Anja needed her too. But that had been a lie, perhaps Anja had loved her in her own way, maybe she had needed her, but not anymore. But even before then Ink felt alone. Lucius had helped to heal that balm a little, but then he too started not needing her. After she helped him learn to fish, and hunt. He no longer needed her.

She smiled at him, albeit a bit sadly. It's okay. Okay. I just realized. Realized. I am what someone needs for a time. Time. Then when I can't help them anymore. Anymore. They go. Go. But at least I am needed for those few times. Times. It will be enough. Enough. Det er nok

Her own language dancing gently there. Repeating the mantra to herself with her tongue.

She nudged him with he nose in the side and smiled. You will get there. There. Perhaps this pack you speak of? Of? Perhaps it isn't the right place for you? My old pack was not the right place for me. Me. Though it was a much different circumstance. Stance.

I just learned to take life slowly. That it is okay. Okay. For me to be okay and sometimes not okay. Okay. It is okay, not to be okay Merry. Merry.

The sadness he had sensed in her finally broke through that smile, and Turneric wished there was something more he could do for her then, something more than sit and listen.

Though sometimes, that was all someone needed. Maybe this was all she needed. Maybe it was what he’d needed, too.

Det er nok. His ears tipped at the foreign sound, and though he wished to ask after the meaning, he hesitated. The way she said it so securely… he took the words as something of great meaning to her, and though they’d shared many vulnerabilities, he stored this phrase in his heart to ask her another time.

Well, even if it is enough, I still hope you find someone who stays. Maybe it’s a blind thing to say, but I do really hope that for you.

They weren’t words of promise, and he knew she might always be the one who was left behind. But he hoped she wasn’t. And isn’t that what hope was?

He gave a soft laugh at her nudge, and bumped her gently with his shoulder, happy for the contact. Her questions brought more somber thoughts.

I’ve wondered that, he said after a pause. He wondered, too, what circumstances she’d come from. I’m… a lot different than my packmates. I didn’t know it at first, but… he knew it now. Turmeric shrugged and laughed a little, Guess I know it now. And that’s… kind of why I came all the way out here. Just… wanted to see who else might be out there.

It was okay not to be okay. It seemed like such a pleasant thought, but it settled in his stomach in a sour way. He had to be okay, even if he knew her words were true.

He just didn’t believe them.

But he smiled anyway, and tucked his head down in a grateful nod. Thanks, Inkeri. I’ll remember that. His grin turned sheepish. So, where is your pack, then? I figure I’ll be in the area a little while to check things out, and it’d be nice to know where I can go to see you again.

It was more than enough to have him listen, for however long he had. She was certain that he would never see her again, because he didn't need her. But she held onto that small ember of hope that he may return. Such a sweet thing as he.

Inkeri smiled. If not it's okay. It is enough that someone needs me for a time.

Inkeri motioned that way. We are Kvarsheim, that way. Way. They speak Icelandic. Ice. I speak Norwegian. Norwegian. We are small, but friendly. You come and stay with us. you want to. To. I make sure you have a place. Place.

She smiled at him, softly. It is a no strings. Strings. Attached.

Maybe it would be enough for her. Maybe it could be enough for him. Turmeric wondered how anyone got over that want to be needed for more than a season, to be needed for longer than when they were useful, and happy to be discarded when their usefulness ran dry. Did it ever get easier, saying goodbye? Did the hurt ever subside? Did you still press in, and press in deep, even though you knew all this good would come to an end, even though you knew you set yourself up for a deeper pain?

It still hurt to think these things, and they did not reach his voice.

Turmeric gazed in the direction Inkeri gestured: rolling fields, lined by a distant haze of forest and mountain. Kvarsheim. Small, and kind. And a home, perhaps.

His heart fluttered with warmth at her offer. Thank you, Inkeri. You know, I'm glad I met you here today, and his smile came easy for her, and I'll truly think through your offer. But if the wolves of Kvarsheim are anything like you, I think I could enjoy a new life there.

I'm good to fade or keep going! <3 Just let me know!

Inkeri wasn't sure if her words helped him at all, but she was surprised that they made her feel better. Though if he had asked her of the pain, she would have readily admitted that it did. Hurt that was. She always had felt the hurt. But her life was always a little better after each interaction, and loads better than the life she had lived before. She had learned to be happy and content with simple things. Small scraps of kindness.

I am glad to have met you. You. It can be home. Home. I will make it so. So. But you think about it. It.

She waved he tail happily, and settled firmer into her seat. She would stay and converse if he wished, or she'd head towards home, if he wanted to have a moment to just take what she had said and ruminate.

Fade here is fine, since we have an updated one.

Sounds good! Last post from me, and I'll archive! ^^

Home.

The word resounded in Turmeric's heart, and would continue to do so, in the days to come. A place he had, but did not have, not in the truest sense. His home had left him, many moons ago, and though pieces remained...

... perhaps it was time for him to start somewhere new, just as his mother had done.

He didn't wish to leave yet, and when Inkeri showed no signs of leaving, either, he decided he would stick around and talk for a while more. It had been a long time since he'd spent a day with a friend - even a friend as newly made as her - and he wasn't quite ready for it end.