Ghost Lion Crag it's the rest of a stump; it's a little alone

for @Bronco - whatever works! can be dated for whenever the last few days

Brecheliant it would be. He thought about stopping by Moonspear, but. . .why? It had been a nice pack to dwell in, to be sure, but everyone he held dear there was elsewhere.

Perhaps one day, he'd return.

Right now, though, he was missing his father. And being separated from Fennec for the time being gave him the perfect opportunity to spend some time with Bronco. Get to know his family, his younger kids.

Brecheliant was a happy place. He could live and love there. Mourn Caracal there.

Killdeer strode the heights of the crag, almost able to see above the mountains that separated the outer reaches of Teekon from the valley he'd grown up in. He took it easy, walking slower, adjusting to the altitude and lack of oxygen that came with it.

It reminded him of living with Mereo, and he felt a kind of pang at the thought. Life had been easier, there. Soldiering was just. . .easy. Mentally, anyway.

Damn Germanicus.

hehe I missed the tag on this but you can trust me to always check out a Killdeer post <3

The good news was that he'd grown a bit, though the word 'stretched' was probably a bit more on point, considering that 'growth' was supposed to be for living cells. When he looked into the river to appraise the age of his face, it showed him nothing but the sky above him. He huffed softly. He was curious to know roughly what age he looked like now, and would have been at least a little bit satisfied to know he looked to be at that point that is the last time a wolf still looks like a puppy before they start really looking like a wolf. 

His legs were long, but thick and his joints were massive. He'd grown into his paws, but his body was long and lanky, trim about his middle. His tail was long and whiplike, having not developed into a full brush just yet and while his ears still looked a bit too big for his head, his muzzle was giving them a run for their money. He was in full-gawky mode, but at least he didn't have to shuffle to move anywhere anymore. 

From what he could tell, he was a still quite opaque. Aside from not having a reflection, he couldn't see through his limbs or feet at all. He left behind no pawprints, and couldn't even stir a deaf leaf to move, but he looked very much solid. 

Thus, you'd think it might be difficult for a ghost to stumble and yet stumble he did, snagging his long claws on the ground which seemed like his one tether to the physical world and went tumbling arse over tea kettle down a little hill. A few little rocks followed his movement, though no leaves fell as he blundered through bush after bush until he came to a stop. 

When he looked up, there was a little clearing allowing him to see up toward the peak of the crag- and there he was, bringing an ache to Bronco's soul. Given that it was no longer restricted to his heart (as there was no point for a ghost like him to have one) it resonated throughout his entire spectral body. Unable to stop himself, he cried out. 

"Killdeer!"

haha awwww

Someone called his name, and he turned, head tilted sideways, ears cupped forward. What came to greet him was a gawky golden youth, a little ways away. 

Just a kid, and not one he knew.

Yeah? he replied, and against his better judgment—like, what if this was some sort of elaborate ruse? Was he about to get jumped? fuuuuck—he made his way toward the boy instead, taking cautious but deliberate steps.

I'm sorry, do I. . .know you? Killer continued. There was something oddly familiar about the other wolf, though he couldn't place it. Pelt of burnished gold, much like his—

Oh! Are you one of Dad—uh, I mean, Bronco's kids? That must be it.

But why were they so far from Brecheliant?

As soon as the name left his lips he regretted it though he doubted that he might even be heard, until his son turned toward the sound of his name. Bronco felt both yearning and despair to see that his son had grown, maturing over the months into a fine young adult. It was the marker of time that he’d missed- time he would never get back. That his son was able to see him at all felt like both a godsend and a curse. 

He waited for realization to hit, wondering still if news had reached him yet, and by the way he spoke, it seemed doubtful. He panicked, wondering in that moment if his son would realize something amiss- and find out that his father had died from a ghost. 

He paused, when Killdeer spoke his name. It felt odd to hear his son avoid saying the word “Dad” though he supposed in this case it was only because he wanted to make sure he knew who he was talking to. 

”Uh, yeah,” He said, with a nod. For a second, he wondered if he’d be dragged down into the underworld for lying to his son. ”I’m Coltan,” He’d used the name before as an Alias to protect his family from the strangers who had hunted him. 

He felt something pinch within his chest. He fought back the glistening sheen of tears that begged to fall. ”Dad told me lots about you; he talks…” the tense was wrong- but he had to roll with it. He hadn’t even come to terms with using past tense for himself yet anyway. ”About you all the time! Says he calls you Varmint,” He said. Part of it was the truth- his children did know of their older brother, but it was not likely they would know the sight of him. ”Are you…Comin’ to visit?” He asked, his ears flicking forward. It felt odd to have two, full ears; he felt grateful that in death, all of his injuries had been forgotten. He shrugged a shoulder reluctantly. ”I, uh, could use some help finding my way back.” 

Another lie. But if there was nothing else he could do…Maybe he could help his son connect with his younger siblings.

Sure enough, the boy confirmed his suspicions. Oh, hey, Coltan, he replied, smiling with an accompanying wag of his tail. He wasn't totally on board yet with the idea of his dad having kids with another woman—a tiny piece of him desperately yearned for his parents to reconnect—but most of the angst had passed, and he was excited to meet a younger half-brother.

Of course! Killer replied, when the boy had explained his predicament. Warmth had pooled in his stomach at the word 'varmint'; he was so looking forward to seeing Bronco. I was headed that way, yeah. So now we can go together.

He nodded down the trail that would eventually lead them away from this place and around the mountains. Wanna get going?

Killdeer wondered how much the younger kids knew about him, besides his nickname. 'Lots' could mean anything.

His tail waved as his proposal was passed. He worried that at any moment, Killdeer might sense that something was amiss, though it seemed unlikely he might guess that he was actually leading his dead father back to his home. It hurt knowing that he wasn’t recognized, but his son had never seen him this young, or without his scars. 

He had no idea how long he would have, but if he had some purpose left on the earth, he would delay it as long as possible so that he could spend a little bit more time with his son. 

He nodded and looked awkward to Killdeer’s side. It felt strange to be this much shorter than his son, but he felt it comforting nonetheless to see him grown.

”Dad said you went travelling a little while back.” He said. ”Where did you end up going?”

He smiled as Coltan fell alongside him, though feeling strange all the same. He'd always expected that, when he'd have siblings, they'd be. . .well, the product of his parents. Full siblings. Fully ingratiated.

He didn't know this boy from any other, and yet, they were brothers.

And he didn't know how to feel.

Oh, Killdeer said, caught off guard amid his ruminations. Um. . .oh, all over, really. My Mom and I wanted to really see the sights for a while. He laughed aloud after a heartbeat, realizing his mistake. Well. . .I saw the sights. My mother is blind. So I guess she doesn't see but like. . .explores in her own way.

Once he got this kid back to Brecheliant, he'd head back and wait for her. She deserved that, even though he knew Fennec could take care of herself.

He cast a glance at Coltan, brow raised. How'd you end up all the way over here? he queried. It was a ways from Brecheliant—and that was a tight-knit, family pack.