Otter Creek Don't really care what they would say, I'm asking you to stay

For @Stark Haelvyr <3

With most of the pack returned to their borders and newcomers among their ranks, Panacea felt free to range far from Swiftcurrent Creek in search of the missing child. This was a relief, in a way. There were simply too many wolves he didn't know, too many things happening all at once. His leader had taken some others and left, and had come back tense and missing one who had gone with them. That, most of all, didn't make any sense to him.

But he didn't ask questions. He just left, letting @Akavir know on his way out that he'd be gone for a time. Searching.

In truth there wasn't much to search for. Panacea found no trails, no signs. He crossed the mountains without much hope, his eyes always finding a bright waterway stemming from between giant stone spires. Idly he traced a path toward it until it became a creek burbling alongside his feet, then followed it down from the mountains. Still he found no evidence of the pup's presence.

Stark shifted atop the sun-warmed boulders, the heat seeping through his thick fur, a rare indulgence in his otherwise relentless existence. His single eye cracked open, narrowing against the sunlight as the sound of paws crunching over pebbles reached his ears. The fast, purposeful rhythm drew his attention, and he stretched lazily before sitting up, his powerful frame silhouetted against the jagged spires beyond.

Below him, a bright-furred wolf darted along the creek’s edge, nose to the ground, moving with a restless determination. Stark tilted his head slightly, studying the stranger with mild curiosity. Whoever they were, they looked like they were chasing ghosts.

“Lose something?” Stark called down, his voice sharp and dry, carrying easily over the gentle burble of the creek. He cracked a wry smirk, readjusting his stature to lean closer to the edge of his sunning rock. "Lose someone?" He swiped his nose over his scarred maw, his yellow eye glinting in the sunlight. “Or are you just practicing your sniffing skills? I’d give it a six out of ten, at best.”

His tone was mocking but lacked any true malice, more a way of entertaining himself than anything else. With @Needle gone for the moment, off doing whatever pups did when they were without adult supervision, he was rather... bored.

That wasn't to say he missed the nuisance. No, no.

A wolf called to him from above; Panacea, unused to an audience, tucked his tail a little as he turned to squint up at the stranger. A pale wolf, scarred. He could see that much from here. It took a few seconds longer to process what the man had said — and then Panacea sighed through his nose, long and weary.

I didn't lose 'em. I'm just the unlucky bastard assigned to search and rescue, He called back, ears half-folded. Panacea was too filled with self-loathing to rise to the bait. Anyway, you're wrong. More like a two outta ten. I'm about to call it quits.

Stark shifted slightly, his posture steady atop the sunlit boulder, though his gaze remained fixed on the weary wolf below. “Search and rescue,” he echoed, voice sharp, each word enunciated with a regal flair. “How noble.” He spoke almost as if to taunt.

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t reach his cold, calculating eye. “Calling it quits already, are you? Truly inspiring. I’m sure whoever sent you out will be thrilled to hear you’ve resigned yourself to failure.”

He leaned forward, the shadow of his towering frame stretching over the rocks, his tone turning cutting and deliberate. “Tell me, then. Who is it that warrants such lackluster dedication? Some lost soul who’s better off forgotten? Or perhaps you’ve convinced yourself they’re beyond saving, and that absolves you of trying.”

Woah buddy, Panacea blinked. Sounds like someone needs a couple years of therapy. And for once it's not me! He was oddly cheered by the thought. Seriously though, issues much? Panacea didn't need the whole bed and breakfast package with his guilt trip; he had that covered well enough to know there had to be serious trauma behind this guy's whole weird act.

Look, great talk, but I gotta get going. Seriously though - therapy. Works wonders.

He turned, eager to get away from the strange interaction. Maybe he'd find a therapist of his own when he got back to Swiftcurrent Creek. What if he wallowed in angst long enough to turn out like that guy? The thought nearly made him shudder.

Stark watched the wolf’s retreat with a faint curl of disdain tugging at his lips, his single eye narrowing as Panacea turned to leave. “Therapy,” he echoed flatly, his voice cutting through the air like the snap of a whip. “The modern cure for spinelessness, no doubt.”

He stood then, his hulking frame casting a shadow across the creek bed as he stepped closer to the edge of his perch. “Run back to your masters, little courier,” Stark called after him, a faint snarl upon the lip. He didn't take kindly to being dismissed.

The wind rustled through his thick fur, carrying with it the faint scent of the mountains far beyond. His gaze lingered on the stranger for a moment longer, dismissive but sharp, before he reclined back onto the sun-warmed boulder.

“Therapy,” he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with quiet mockery. “What absurdity.” Shaking his head, Stark settled back down. He paused, only to raise his head once more, eyes swiping across the surroundings of the creek.

Where had that girl run off to?