Lost Creek Hollow naranja

today silvertongue flitted around the borders. under the watchful grey skies, which eventually turned to falling snow once more, the coy one pushed small grey rocks into a pattern. a fairy-circle, there to the left of the hollow's entrance. silvertongue was not truly superstitious but she felt a degree of protection could only help riverclan. soon — soon they should go to kvarsheim.

this time he had realized a collection of forming scents. more than what the creek with the men had carried.

he wondered just how much they all knew about each other.

and maybe he was extra lucky to catch somebody along the borders, easier to communicate this way. he had no interest in a spat, after all.

hey. you live here?

thx for joining! shall we bring this to present? <3

silvertongue turned quickly, in the beginnings of a catlike bristle that smoothed when she saw he meant no threat. the fact he was quite handsome also did not hurt. a dark mask held waterblue eyes that she thought missed very little. he was not a large man, and very filthy to her coiffed eye. "si. this is riverclan."

works for me :D

riverclan.

and he thought he had heard a man talk like this once, but he thought too little of it. not concerned about the things he had accidentally left behind.

pretty name. and he meant it, even as his eyes fluttered to look around them.

what's riverclan about?

the stranger was brusque. silvertongue unfurled herself with all the grace she had been taught in akashingo's court. she approached with small, elegant steps, leaning into his space with a confidence that said she was in command. "who is asking?" glassblue eyes rested without fear upon his own, a sweet, devious little bow curving her lips.

veran did not know what to do with grace.

he had become comfortable with the rough edges of magda. who he missed terribly but did his best to not think on so much as the days grew colder.

and so he found himself with a bit of unease in his gut, a stiffness to his neck.

just me.

a lick of his lips.

silvertongue enjoyed his unease. it brought power to her. but she was not here to be cruel; soon the vixen drew away. yes. he was alone. "and what is your name, just me?" her lips were still gentle. "i am silvertongue."

his ears raised up tall, alert, as she moved away once more.

veran. but he had not missed her name. nor how fitting it seemed to her. silvertongue. his nostrils flared slightly with the inhale of scents around them.

he wanted to ask more and yet he hesitated, wondering might barb him next if he did.

"and are you looking for a home, veran?" she rolled the r of his name and smiled more warmly this time. he seemed quite flighty. "riverclan is still being built. there is room."

i don't know. you haven't told me about riverclan yet.

and this time he was smart enough to ask, to find out first before he drifted later. granted he realized that maybe his ability to leave was a greater power.

if things got too weird or hit the fan...

suppose riverclan was a collection of spies! how could they be charged with giving all their information to a dirty man with a closed mouth? but this was beyond a tease, it was bordering insult with those who did not know her. "it is a place of peace led by crowfeather. we work with others beyond our borders and he is teaching us to speak with the stars. we heal, not only ourselves but others, in both body and soul. but we also keep to ourselves in this place." her voice was earnest, filled not with jest but with the quiet determination she felt to ensure riverclan stood.

a place of peace.

and yet didn't others usually have to fight something for peace? it never seemed to be a given thing one could just have.

i know how to heal, and i know plants. a soft exhale. i wander some. to learn, to trade, but i'm good at coming back.

if he wanted to.

"crowfeather knows plants and stars. sandulf knows hunting and guarding. i am learning it all. but a healer is welcome." silvertongue pointed in the direction of the stone circle with her chin. "that way is kvarsheim. they do not all speak our language. but they are our friends. one of the leaders, bjarna, has asked us to trade hunting with her."

crowfeather; plants and stars.

sandulf; hunting and guarding.

silvertongue; all.

it seemed they were small and had a spread about them. yet they had already connected with another group. kvarsheim, a place of different language. it reminded him of the change the saints had done and for a moment his lips thinned in thought.

i can help with that too. hunting. his body loosened some, not feeling the heavy presence of her so keenly now.

you know there's a group starting up by the creek along the mountains?

map!

silvertongue began to back toward the hollow, moving gently enough so that veran would understand to follow. "i did not! what are they like?" so he already brought riverclan something to use. eventually silvertongue moved to walk beside him. the roar of the falls grew and grew. she stopped, waiting for veran to take in the deep green of the hollow, even veiled in winter as it was now. the interlocked branches of the trees did not only bring a constant comforting shadow, but much less snow was able to reach the earth, leaving naked if dry waves of grass throughout.

i only know there's two there. both men.

which meant it wasn't a breeding pair prepared to pop up come spring. although he supposed if they found wives or women? it hardly mattered much to him regardless. all he owed was another visit to arric maybe.

it seems like they have troublesome visitors up there, though. a group wanted their land and they fought them off. just the two of them.

granted he didn't sound impress by the whole ordeal. it seemed a bit silly, beyond his own wants and thinking. which left him free to be impressed by the waterfall. the naked, dry ground. he saw potential in all of it. it showed in the soft warm bloom of his features.

do you have a garden yet?

fade? im so thrilled!!

two men. silvertongue attempted to hide her interested amusement. when veran went on further to say that they were fighters of note, she made her mind then and there to visit, and soon. she only nodded at his words almost sagely. "there was a woman here, briefly. faun. i will show you where she stayed. faun also knew plants. there may be growing things there, for you to begin your own garden, veran." silvertongue was pleased by how she had found what gentled the man: not her beauty, not her words, but the land. she would leave veran there at the not-stale but not-occupied den, wondering if he would take it for himself. but the woman would not go without a goodbye and a gentle instruction for him to visit @Crowfeather in the following days. already he and veran had several things in common.