Dawnlark Plains hymn to blood

"elodie doesn't think i should visit the pack nearby looking for this woman and the man," lestan murmured to @Swordfish. "but i think i need to go."
deadened voice was the backdrop of their hunt today, and it was indeed just a hunt, tracking a wounded young deer across the plains and keeping the ridge just in sight. "no need to go with me," lestan added of the place.

Ellie had grown fond of Lestan. She seemed to do what she could to keep him from danger. There didn’t seem to be much that could be said to sway him from his goal. The trinket he had lost still ate away at his sanity. Swordfish couldn’t imagine how a pack of strangers would take his appearance on their border. 

Yer not goin’ alone. 

The young wolf’s words did not leave room for argument. 

Swordfish swung his head up, tracing the deer’s path just ahead of them. There were places it could attempt to bed down, lay low. The animal was not in any physical condition to put up much of a challenge.

"you can't very w-well forbid me, shardik," lestan chuckled, meaning it as a jest even as the sound of it flattened blandly. 
"b-besides, suppose t-they tear me apart? n-no reason for it to h-happen to us b-both," the mayfair stage-whispered, stammer returning as his voice warmed, perhaps for the first time in weeks.
he was suddenly not focused on the deer.

And ya can’t forbid me from followin’ ya! 

The bear-hunter scowled. It was not lost on him, this shift in tone. The black vanished from his gaze. Lestan was normal - as well as he could be - for a few moments. Swordfish was stunned into silence, afraid to shift his companion’s rise. Afraid that the darkness would return to Lestan’s face and his voice would become drab and cold. 

Yer not gonna get torn apart with me there anyway. So it’s best to avoid that altogether, hm? he said in an even voice, nudging the other man with the soft of his snout.

properly chastised, lestan pulled his eyes from swordfish and found the distant figure of the deer, standing tall with a stillness that tugged at him, somehow. "w-we won't a-argue."
and he would not, choosing instead to get away before his companions could stop him. he'd certainly dragged them into enough.
crouching, the mayfair explored the warm tracks with an outstretched paw, then slipped deeper into the tall grass, knowing he was not alone.
but the rise loomed, prickling him with sensation.

We will argue.

The young wolf huffed a breath through his nose. He didn’t want Lestan to frustrate him. Not when he seemed more… himself, or at least how Swordfish had grown to know him while searching for Blossom.

While the two pressed on, Swordfish insisted.

Yer gonna drag the two of us out here an’ then scamper off an’ what? Leave us waitin’ in the woods? Seems real smart, Lestan. Real clever not knowin’ where yer goin’ or what the fuck yer doin’.

At some point in his rant, he had lost the edge to his voice. When he let silence fill the space following his words, his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He didn’t even know if Lestan would listen. In moments, the black could return to his eyes. The life stolen from his voice.

he was — hurt. angry. and both of those things broke past the blackness wanting to coalesce in his chest once more. "i d-didn't ask y-you to come, shardik! n-neither of y-you! s-so —" and he wanted not to hurt, "d-don't c-come. w-whatever happens, i d-don't want you h-hurt."
and he turned! and stormed off! the hunt forgotten as he tried to deal with the fact that someone indeed cared for him, and he wasn't sure what to do with the sensation.

"I d-didn't ask y-you to come, Shardik! N-Neither of y-you!”

The bear-hunter fell silent. His head swung low, defensive, hurt. The silver-specked glint of his eyes would no longer meet Lestan. He kept them trained to the ground, to the bugs and the dirt and the filth. The earth passed beneath him while Lestan pushed ahead, placing distance between himself and Swordfish.

The last of Lestan’s words had started to crawl beneath Swordfish’s skin.

I don’t want you hurt.

It was much too late for that.

When Swordfish lifted his snout, Lestan was gone from sight. The young man slowed to a stop before he plopped himself into a seated position and looked out at the great stretch of land he had never explored.

Swordfish couldn’t protect anyone. He didn’t know why he even tried.

little had escaped his notice.
when lestan dragged himself back, it was with heavy note of contrition in his face. no venison for them. he laid a grouse near shardik but said nothing, creeping into the lee of a moss-covered stone to cover his face and sleep.
sleep would drown the guilt for a while.

Lestan returned with only a grouse to share. Swordfish watched as his companion tucked himself away, hiding his face and slipping into dreams.

The bear-hunter did not sleep. He watched and listened. He waited for a sign that Ellie would come find them, catch up and talk sense into Lestan. The madman seemed inclined to listen to her, to accept her worries. Perhaps because she had a way of delicately voicing them where Swordfish was only capable of brash confrontation.

When he picked the meat from the grouse and ate, he was left with a burning anger in his belly - a hunger that could not be satiated.