Swiftcurrent Creek yiron

backdated to sept 20! <3

skaigona tried to think of the last time she had seen a place so large, and decided that it had not been since the winter hunting of moonglow and duskfire. situated along an opportune stretch of the wide freshwater creek, so many scents laced into a wicker-weave of protecting threat that she was temporarily overwhelmed.
urging @Ezra along, the young woman stared into the packland as if gideon or anselm might appear, then tilted back her tired head to sing: have you seen a boy? young, grey, with golden eyes and two tails.
her boy. her gideon. skaigona wanted to cry.

ezra is tired, he can feel it in the heaviness of his limbs. this is the most he's travelled in all of his short life and though he is persistent in his determination to find gideon and anselm there lingers with it the consideration that when they found them ( because hope is a vicious plaguing thing that refuses to leave ) he was going to sleep for at least three days.

his steps pause as he moves to stand beside his mother, their approach to the pack's borders stilling when they reach what had always been assumed a respectful distance away.

his mother howls, asking after gideon and ezra's golden gaze is steady on the treeline within the territory, scouring. hoping against all that his brother and father might appear to greet them.

They prepared to leave—he did not wish to rush their journey, particularly when he wanted to ensure a pace Mae was comfortable in. The call at the borders had found him mid-hunt—the porcupine hanging precariously from his jaws—careful only now to touch the undersides of the creature.

One quill stuck sorely to his cheek—throbbing. When he came upon mother and son, his pale eyes swam over them, brows knitting together before releasing into the stoical mask he presented most of the world, and unceremoniously dropped the dead porcupine to his feet.

Nose lifting, tongue looking to press against his lips and clean some of the blood, he boldly moved closer, eyes first falling upon the tired and hungry boy—only then, his eyes softening.

Tilting his muzzle to the direction of the fire-tinged woman, he presented a cheek—testing. “Help a guy out?”

He had meant to seek Arlette—but maybe this other wolf could save the Beta from feeling the need to lecture him on being more careful.

concern. was it pity? a muscle leapt along her jawline. their introduction was unexpected, not with names but with a request.
heda of yesteyear might have blushed and simpered girlishly to be so close to a man. skaigona of today's hour did not keep herself from registering the height of his shoulder, the expressiveness of his eyes — but she hesitated no longer than a second.
her movement was compound, fluid; a paw raised to push his muzzle aside as her teethtips snipped for the end and plucked it from his flesh without sugar-coating.
a fat drop of blood welled. her tongue caught it in a medicinal swipe before the loner stepped back. "i need information," she said with a more pressing tone; trade to trade, and she had become a trader with each second of time she bartered and lost in gideon's wake.

ezra watches the man approach with a porcupine carcass in his mouth and his stomach rumbles. a betrayal. unable to keep his thoughts hidden, he scowls as the stranger approaches boldly, asking for help. it deepens as his mother helps to pull a spine from the man's flesh; his expression a quiet, seething seastorm.

it took all of his willpower not to cringe.

ve're looking for my brother and father. ezra speaks up, goldenankh gaze turning chilled as it cuts from his mother to the stranger.

The sharp pain of the quill was removed—a sweep of her tongue and she moved back. He moved back to the carcass—not missing the stink-eye of the youth and remaining unaffected by it. A paw lifted, rubbing his cheek with the back of his wrist before nudging gingerly at the carcass—beginning to slice open the belly.

“Haven't seen a kid with that description,” he offered, pulling out the meat and innards—his tongue sweeping over his lips once more. A pointed look given to the glaring youth. “What does your father look like?”

He continued the cleaning of the carcass—he wanted the quills and possibly the hide—and when done, he picked up the remains of the porcupine, nudging it behind him and stepping back to the pile of meat presented to mother and son. “Please, take it. You’ll need energy to continue your search.”

anselm. skaigona had not allowed herself a moment to think of that day long enough to do more than cringe; she had believed what amadeo said of the man, at least in part. having experienced anselm's mercurial mood, she had not stopped to consider;
ezra was cold; had she ever seen him so cold?
"they all share the same silvergrey fur. the same eyes," the loner murmured despite the fact that the question had been to her son, trying not to falter beneath the realization that she was desperate to know anselm too was all right.
this offer of food brought a guarded look, but again skaigona did not wait. "all right," said with acceptance, her own goldcoin eyes filled with a grateful moment.

beneath his desperation has always nested rage. quiet. and cold. a defense mechanism. if he is like the cold mountains then nothing can hurt him. and though his hope remained a persistent and resilient flame there were days worse than others where it grew dim. where the lack of answers or leads or trails left him despondent. it was exhausting.

or perhaps living like a vagabond was exhausting.

my father's name is anselm and my brother's name is gideon. he offers, in the hopes that maybe the names might ring any sort of bell of familiarity.

he looks at the meat with another cramping rumble in his stomach and swallows back the saliva that pools in his mouth. but he would not eat it here, not on this pack's doorstep. it felt like a charity that while he would greedily split with his mother in private, pride kept his feet still from dining on it with an audience.

The boy relaxed only in the means of offering names--the woman shared a more apt description.

He contemplated this--stepping away from the given meat to allow the two travelers to investigate it further should they wish, his own muzzle tipping upward, calling out to the wolves of the creek to see if they knew anyone of the description given--

--of the names given.

The ivory woman had called out prior, but perhaps no one had paid attention. Or, perhaps... no one had any information to give.

I haven't met or seen either, he spoke to them, turning his gaze back to the pair once more. But maybe someone else here has. One of our newer members has been looking for a wolf named Anselm, i believe. Etienne? The heavily accented wolf had only filled Akavir in on some minor details of his past--the name only just familiar given the man shared he wished to travel around the creek in search.

He paused then, inspired by the quilled body behind him. Have you considered looking for them at the pack hunt gathering that is happening across the mountains?

The call came for someone who knew Anselm and Etienne swiftly answered. But a cold look stole upon hus face at the sight that met him. Though he did offer Ezra a tiny smile.

I know dey names you ask for Akavir.

Etienne lifted his head. And stared at Heda barely concealed anger in the golden depths.

it was enough; the food was enough. she prickled at the continuing conversation, wanting nothing more than to spirit ezra away — away, away. 
etienne. and there he was, the scathe of his eyes open.
heda of yesteryear might have been affected; skaigona stared blankly at the man who had loyally tended the hollow and then rivenwood.
"where is this gathering?" she asked, pulling her eyes slowly away from him and back to the leader, akavir. it might be worth going. "there's sickness in the bypass. it killed my sister." and that was it, wasn't it? druid had changed. druid had snapped for her and nothing had ever been the same again.
"thanks," she said of the porcupine, helping ezra to gather the thing. daring not hazard another look more toward etienne, skaigona prepared to leave, studiously avoiding any more eye contact with the creek wolves.
if the healer was here, anselm really had disappeared.

swiftcurrent creek had turned into another dead end and disappointment, despite that ezra had not allowed himself the full force of hope, still hangs heavy in his chest. heavier still when etienne appears speaking that he knew gideon and anselm but offering nothing else. which to ezra meant that etienne had no idea where his father and brother were either.

he does not know what transpired between his mother and etienne but there is a tension there. ezra takes not of it but does not capitalize upon it.

they needed to keep moving. perhaps to this great hunt ... or perhaps to the taiga.

with his mother's help, he gathers the meat gifted for them, offering a simple thanks. eager to keep moving.

Etienne appeared--the harsh stare he delivered the she-wolf at their border would rival the oncoming winter frost itself. And where they might be? He had a feeling Etienne would have spoke this already--but it begged to be known.

Their two impromptu visitors were collecting their gift. Akavir's ears slid back at the mention of the sickness, his own eyes hardening now. It took one of ours, too, he informed her. But that was all he would mention.

His Lilitu.

The gathering is across the mountains and toward a glen in a place called Great Bear Wilderness. From what I know, a lot of wolves will be there. It was an invitation event--but who's to say a lone wolf or two won't just happen upon it? He doubted any would bat an eye at the mother and son duo.

With that, he turned his muzzle to Etienne, his voice lowering. Come find me later when you have a chance? With that, the man scooped up the empty carcass of the porcupine. He would clean the quills from it later. First, he needed to find Arlette.

Etienne could not keep his anger to himself. How he wanted to rage at Heda, but it would do no good. But she had abandoned 4 babies. 4. And it made him so angry the sea collided in his innards, furious.


A nod to the leader. Okay. He would stand and watch as Heda and Ezra left. Lifting his paw and farewell if the child turned. Not Heda, but Ezra. Who looked so much like his father it hurt.

akavir was forthcoming, even welcoming. skaigona kept her eyes from etienne even as his wrath burned into the side of her face. he didn't need to show it; he didn't need to chastise her, and she was grateful he said nothing more.
in one moment, she shared more with akavir than she did anyone else; her stare fractured into pain she hid in the next moment, from both men. "i'm sorry."
her voice was a ragged murmur.
what she had done, she regretted and both did not. there was no room for nuance in the face of righteous anger.
it was unexplored even by her, unexplored even in the grief and the rage. fixing these directions in her mind, skaigona wheeled and did not turn again.
not until the creek had fallen far behind did she pause to see that ezra ate, gratefully finishing the morsels herself. the hard look in etienne's eyes would stay with her forever.