Bitterroot Valley Enter, Pursued by a Memory

looking to meet some other Great Sky kiddos! tag for reference/mention

Barrett woke early, before sun had kissed the sky, well before dawn—when @Sega had called for their hunt. The outlaw moved quickly this day, towards the clearing where the drying racks stood, their pelts slung over them, drying. He viewed them carefully. Paid careful note to the precision in which they had been crafted. Curious as to who had managed to accomplish the quiet beauty that laid within the handiwork.
So Barrett drank in the quiet scents of the valley. There were seven others, he knew. And in his heart of hearts, he wanted to know them. Not to replace the gang he had left behind, but, if anything, to remind himself of it. To know the feeling of family once more, though he did not wear such warmth upon his face, nor within his stature. He stood straight, tall, with a gaze hard as stone, brows furrowed on instinct.
Callahan, he reminded himself, was his name for these people. Not entirely as a lie, but, a method in which he knew to protect himself. Careful ever-so.

And—though, surely no one would be up this early—should he see someone, he would call a Mornin', and nod his head, somewhat gentleman-like in his approach.
Now all he needed was a cowboy-hat to tip.

twitch had no business being awake at this hour. it is a fact she knows and acknowledges, and yet sleep has evaded her at every opportunity. so she wandered. quiet. small. doing her best impression of a shadow that wouldn’t bother anyone so that no one would bother her—at the very least, it is a skill she has practiced, therefore, surely!, none would come to her.

she caught their scent before she sees them: new blood, smelling of smoke and earth. she hesitated at the treeline, paws sinking into soft moss, debating the smartest course of action (turn around and pretend she saw nothing was winning by a landslide).

the choice is almost made by the time she realizes he is looking her way, and tragically, she has been staring a bit long for it to be considered normal.

with apprehension already settling in, she steps out anyway, ears tucked half-back, looking anywhere but at him. it lasts for all of fourteen seconds because she simply cannot help herself.

her eyes snag on his height, the bulk of him, the weight of his stride. handsome crossed her mind and she kicked it straight back out before it could settle anywhere noticeable.

he dips his head when she’s close enough with a polite “mornin’,”—she blinks once, as if surprised he’d bothered with courtesy at all. she softens her posture to something presentable in response, “hello,”

she’s a bit awkward sorry I just wanted to meet this guy i_i it gets better I promise

stop i love her so much already

A girl, he saw. Maybe a half year younger than he. Pretty, she was. Lean and tapered, body of a dancer, though her stride, her posture was much shyer than the confidence that one would require on a stage. That was fine, though, because this outlaw sure knew how to talk: You up mighty early, hun, he observed, a smile laid upon a singularly-scarred face. Wine-dark eyes studied her for a brief moment.
He drew himself only a step closer, giving a nod of his head. Barrett would not breach her space, lest he was invited to. Name's Callahan. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss...? And he looked up at her from a lowered head, as if trying to make himself appear smaller. Careful in this moment. A clear attempt to be friendly.
Gentle, was his rugged, southern tone.

twitch froze like he’d pressed a thumb to the back of her neck. hun. the endearment, however innocently he means it, hits her harder than any teeth ever had. it goes clean through her, warm and wonderfully disarming in all the ways she was painfully susceptible to. her ears flicked, gaze stuttering away as she minded herself to be calm.

her tongue kisses her teeth as a warming smile creeps along the corner of her lips. “couldn’t sleep,” she said, tail sweeping behind her, “figured I’d go for a walk.”

she watches him the same way a doe would eye a hunter; wary but curious still. that smile of his was unfair—dangerous—and even when he has her, he dips his head to try to soften his own size. it makes her chest tighten with something embarrassingly appreciative. her pulse flutters once in her throat and she blames it on anxiety.

callahan, he introduces. it suits him. he asks for her name in turn, and she gives freely. “uh- twitch is fine,” she offers, voice low.

twitch cocks her head as if in consideration to his words, humming like she is mulling it over in her mind—“pleasure’s mine, i think, but thank you.” she retorts—too honest, too warm—before she cleared her throat. “you’re new, i take it? sega picked you up?”

Twitch, he smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgement. He could see the smile rising on her face, as if fighting her consciousness on the permission of its' arrival. Barrett would like to see her smile, he thought, for he was already quite curious of the woman before him. But he would keep distance, for now. Kept his stature soft.
Indeed he did, came an answer. Picked me up a day or two ago, down by the woods, few ways, eh, south-west'a here, and he looked around, now, throughout the clearing. Thinkin' I like it, but, haven't had the chance to meet many of yer folks yet. You'd be the first, Twitch, and he gave a smile. Wanted to move closer. Investigate her a lil' more. Kept a reasonable space between them, instead. He was no longer a boy, couldn't do what he pleased if he wanted the lady to be comfortable. Which, oh, he very well did, but, still, he extended an invitation:
You mind if I take that walk with you, hun? Asked the outlaw.

Got a hunt with yer chief later today. Reckon it could calm my nerves a bit. Whaddya think? Tail swept low behind him. No force behind his words. Only a softness as the stars kissed the raven-dark sky. Purple rimming the horizon.

twitch’s ears ticked at the offer, barely a motion, but it’s enough to show she’d heard the name tucked in there again. this time she only breathes out slow, like she could will her heartbeat back to something normal. his distance helps, and so did the way he carried himself: big but not looming, polite without being stiff. most wolves his size didn’t bother with that kind of gentleness, in her experience. much less talk, much more teeth. it earns him another small glimpse of her smile before she could think better of it.

“first?” she echoed, tone soft but not shy. “not sure if that’s good luck on your part.” she let her gaze travel over him more officially this time, quick and assessing, more curious than flustered. she’d met worse men and women. she’d run from worse. he wasn’t that.

at his question, her tail swept once through the grass. “i don’t mind,” she said, stepping to the side to make room for him on the narrow path between the birches. “if you haven’t had a tour yet, i can give you one.”

a beat, then a wry twitch of her mouth.

“and sega’s good. steady. probably won’t be as scary as he makes it sound.” she glances at him from the corner of her eye, the smallest tease slipping through. “if you’re as capable as you look, you’ll be fine.”

Good luck? Well, Seems lucky enough so far, he mused, brows raising for but a brief moment. And at her acceptance, he pulled forwards, finding himself, now, a single step away from her. Closer, but still, more than enough space to breathe between them. I'd quite like myself a tour, miss, Barrett replied. Should'ya be willin'.
Nothing but good things about Sega came from this ladies' mouth, and he nodded slowly. Felt himself soften, maybe. Less weary. But still, he held an uncertainty deep within. Not anxiety, for he was not scared for himself in the sense of safety, but instead, perhaps something different. Something... more personal. But he was drawn back to reality by Twitch's voice. As if she were some sort of guardian angel. He smiled at the thought, and, at what she had to say. Capable as I look, huh? He chuckled.
Careful, it'll go to my head, and with that, he shook his head back and forth, giving a brief round of his shoulders. He flicked his tail, now, and said: Lead the way, miss, and he gave a small nod forwards, beckoning.
Can't say I'd know where'ta go without a guide.

his confidence in her is astounding, really. “ehh, don’t think i’d go that far, but sure.” the corner of her mouth hooked upward as she pushes a scoff through parted lips.

“willing?” she repeated, snorting softly. “y’say it like you’re asking me to escort you to a ball, callahan. it’s trees and dirt. i think we’ll survive.” she stepped forward anyway, brushing past a birch trunk, letting her tail flick lightly to the side, enough motion to mark her forward path.

she let out the smallest laugh—low and smooth and short-lived. “although, if one compliment from me takes you out, i think you’ve already lost.” she flicked her tail once, brushing a leaf off her hock with a lazy step.

she sucks in a breath to refocus, turning her attention to the land around her. ”the geography isn’t too complicated, s’ easy enough to navigate when you have the base down.” her nose points north next as she speaks: ”Lake’s that way. Good spot to bathe, maybe catch fish if you’re lucky.”

He gave a roll of wine-dark eyes, then, humorous in their creasing, and yet, not quite understanding the manner in which she referred to herself. She was a pretty thing. Polite. Nothin' bad about her that was noticeable right away, and, well, wasn't that the best way to be? Keep your flaws—keep em' covered. Like him, in a way.
Oh, that was a compliment, hun? He grinned. Head moved to face her. Eyes studied her expression, curious. Uncertain. Willing. Take me out to dinner first, hey? And that sentence was lined with a laugh, deep and gravelly. Warm. And it was just as quickly that he breathed, regained himself. And Twitch seemed to refocus, too.
Good thing I've got someone to show me around then, he hummed. Made a mental note of the lake. He could use a bath, now that he thought about it. Try fishing up here... though he wasn't sure how successful he'd be...
At least, not in this body.

An odd thought. He moved on quickly.

You got a favourite spot 'round here, lil' thing? He asked the girl, giving a single quirk of his brow as he moved only ever-so-slightly closer.
No ill-intent, nor hidden motives. Pure curiosity for this particular woman.

“oh, har-har, you think you’re very funny, don’t you?” she shot back—rat bastard was lucky he was so charming. “you’re built like a boulder. saying you look capable ain’t exactly poetry.”

his comment earns him a sharp, incredulous snort. “i’m not a really a ‘hunt on the first date’ kinda gal, so you’ll have to make do.” a smirk, fleeting but real. playful without inviting too much.

he didn’t crowd, which she appreciated, but he drifted just close enough to show interest. the question snags her attention more than the closeness. favorite spot, little thing? she blinked at that, ears giving a tiny startled twitch, but she played it off with a lazy shrug. laying it on thick, this one.

“mm. depends what you mean,” she answered, slipping between two ferns, brushing one aside with a hock. “there’s a grove by the borders. has a willow tree, pretty flowers, good cover.”

she kicked a stone out of her path with a soft scrape. “if i want space to think? the lake. forces you to face yourself. shows you with or without the pretty parts.” a pause, “but if you plan on taking my spot, i do bite.”

A boulder! He laughed. Okay, okay I see how it is, he nodded, gazing upon her with faux incredulousness; a raised, though tensed brow and an open jaw. A 'first date', she called... this, and to this, he just chuckled, shaking his head. He was not the type to move so quickly—thankful that it was a simple tease. Though, still, he wasn't entirely against the concept.
Grove sounded nice, but, again, she mentioned the lake. He thought to his reflection. A face he had yet to see since he arrived here. Wondered if, even in this body, he still wore a scar 'pon his face. Chuckled at her empty threat. Wouldn't dare, princess, he smirked. Seems you like that lake though, huh? Yer second mention of it, and maybe she could show him that, too.
Just know, princess, he continued. I reckon I could take ya, and Barrett looked at her, again. A sidewards glance. A little cheekier, this time. Playful. Not a move, per se, but rather, a test at their compatability—for nothing more than friendship, of course. Instructing himself to go slowly.

twitch nearly tripped over a root. not because she was clumsy—she wasn’t—but because princess landed like a stone right to the forehead. what kind of princesses has he been meeting that he could make such a conclusion?

“alright, now you’re just pulling shit outta your ass, aren’t you?” she puffed, “and yeah, i like the lake,” the girl went on, tone steadier as she pushed a branch aside for him to pass. “very quiet and serene. doesn’t talk back, which is more than i can say for you.”

she gave him a sidelong glance—quick, sharp, a little amused. “second mention because you asked about favorite places. i don’t rotate my answers just to keep you entertained.”

but then he threw that last bit—I reckon I could take ya—and her ears pinned halfway back in immediate challenge. her head whips around to his like the mere insinuation offends her. her eyes dragged up his frame—quick, unimpressed on purpose. she makes a judgy sound from deep in her throat, brows knitted playfully.

“you’re full a’ shit, cowboy. you’re big, not fast.” a small smirk curled at the corner of her mouth. “size only helps if you catch me first. s’cute though,”

Shit outta my ass? He echoed. You ain't ever heard a man talk to a lady? At least, to him, referring to the women of the gang lovingly, affectionately, was the norm. You'd be punished if you disrespected them, and he'd learned from a life of being an annoying pre-teen that even scoffing was enough to deserve an ass-whoopin'.
He noticed the branch she pushed; ducked past it and gave her a nod. But, again, Barrett spoke: If ya hate the conve'sation, say so, he pointed out, a grin still warm upon his face, though his tail flicked in a manner that betrayed his demeanor. If she wanted him to stop talking, he knew how to shut up.
But, still, she kept it going. Bigger means my legs too, princess, he smiled. Means I can move further, quicker. Got them big strides, ya hear? I could catch ya, and still, he insisted. Cute, huh? Ya wanna test that? A baseless threat. One that he made with a smirk on his face. Playful still.
However, a small part of the outlaw wished for her to accept. So that he may chase, and find, and catch, and so that they may laugh, and laugh, and laugh. However odd a thing that may be to wish for. However impossible.
He would wish still.

“i’m not big on socializing, so i really couldn’t tell you,” she shot back, tail giving one lazy sweep behind her. “they aren’t usually looking for conversation, usuallly just chasing me off.” she kept her eyes forward now, muzzle tilted into the shifting light—but the slight smile tugging at her lip proved she wasn’t to all disapproving. if anything, she was feeding him rope just to see how much he’d take.

the man seemed to double down then, and something bright flickered across her features. annoyance wasn’t quite right. neither was offense. more like a spark being flipped back at him. hazel irises flit to him briefly before returning to the trees with a satisfied hum, a breath of laughter. he was thicker than she was in build, and she’d stake her life on the fact that she had more experience in escaping than he did.

“oh, is that how that works?” she tilts her head to a foxish little angle, meeting his sideways glance with one of her own. “depends, big guy. you gonna give me a head start on account of those ‘big strides’?”

He felt a sudden bloom of pride, when she said that she 'Wasn't big on socialising', because, whether or not that was entirely true, she was still here, walking, talking with him. And he was not so sure what made him quite unlike the others, in the sense of being able to hold her interest, but by God, he did not want it to stop. And so, he would reply, still grinning:
Lucky us then, hey? That yer not runnin', and I ain't chasin', he mused. But, with a raise of his brows, he added on, Yet, and looked back to Miss Twitch, smile still bright and wide. Met her hazel gaze with his own; feigning a scoff like it was a challenge. Depends, she said, and for a moment he felt his heart, his very soul, in fact, surge forwards.
Barrett hummed, now, as if considering. In the same breath, he spoke: I'll give ya five secon's, he offered. None more, n' none less.
He would wait, now. Wait, and wish for her to accept.

twitch slowed just enough for her heel to scrape the dirt—an instinctive pause, brief but telling. the forest opened a little around them here: birch thinning out, moss soft underfoot, morning light finally threading between the branches in pale ribbons. a perfect place to get lost in, she hoped.

five seconds. hell. she glanced at him, and there was something almost like panic in the quick flash of her eyes—then it smoothed over, something practiced and sly.

the girl purses her lips before conceding: “…fine,” she said, chin tilting up to his as her front half drops into something of a playful bow, “but you gotta turn around first,” the girl grins. “making the best of my five seconds, right?”

They stood face-to-face now, and Barrett made no attempt at hiding the way his gaze wandered over her features; from hazel eyes to sly grin, round cheeks and plumed fur. And she tilted her chin upwards for just a moment before dropping into a bow. Barrett chuckled, stretching his shoulders.
Right, right, he mused, tone low and gruff. South rolling through. Ya need me ta close my eyes, too? Humour quite evident in the way in which he spoke. Spin 'round five times, huh? He found himself sat upon the grass, filtered sunlight warming his pelt. Paws twitched, muscles tensed, as if bound to spring upon the slightest whistle. Ready to chase, should she commence.
I'll count when yer ready, princess, he practically purred.

twitch did not give him the satisfaction of a verbal answer besides a laugh. the moment he settles—broad chest lowering, she clocks her tongue and shakes her head. he asked if he needed to close his eyes. to spin around—she needed none of it.

”nah,” she called lightly, voice drifting from somewhere a little further than she’d just been. “wouldn’t want you trippin’ over yourself before we even start.”
a twig snapped under her hind paw as she inched another step back. cheating. absolutely cheating. she didn’t even bother pretending otherwise.

she steps backward, then another, then another until she’s standing atop a fallen log. not running, just creating an early distance.

“mkay, you can count now.” she added from over her shoulder, already turning her trot into a lope, a steady gallop. she would be gone before he’d finished his first number.

Her voice was further, now, and Barret scoffed, but otherwise did not comment on the quite obvious cheating. He'd confront her when he caught her, because, call him proud, but no matter how far she got, he would catch up with her eventually. A twig cracked. He hummed. Stretched his forelegs.
And she said that the outlaw could begin counting, so, without any further acknowledgement, he did: One, he started, a grin still upon his face as he did. He knew, now, that she was probably running like her life was dependant on it. Two, he continued. Voice projecting, so that she may continue to hear him. Something of this 'game' made his heart thump hard in his chest. Excitement. Instinct. Three, rolled his voice.
The closer he got, the more he battled the urge to stand and run. Four... the word was drawn out, now. Much louder than before. He would wait a moment before announcing the last second. See just how far she got.

twitch hit the ground running—literally—her paws tossing up leaf-litter as she bolted, breath already sharp in her chest from the mix of adrenaline and poorly contained laughter. barrett’s “two” rolled through the trees like a warning bell, and she cut right, then left, snapping branches and kicking dirt with enough recklessness to confuse. she wasn’t fast enough to outrun him forever, but she could damn well confuse him.

she veered off the obvious path, slicing through a thicket narrow enough that only something her size could slip through clean. she left just enough noise there for him to think she committed to it—then immediately doubled back, hiding among trees and bushes as she returned to her original path at a different angle.

four.. she counter internally, pulse spiking. she didn’t look back, wouldn’t dare, because then she would panic. the birch opened ahead, thin white trunks giving way to deeper greens. she pushed harder, shoulder brushing a fern as she ducked under a fallen limb, tail streaming like a banner behind her.

the grove was close now, she was sure. perfect cover. perfect place to vanish.

Five! Barrett called, voice carrying through the trees. He was quick to stand, even quicker to spin on his heels and sprint, full-bound, after the scent that Twitch had left behind. The speed in which she travelled left impact upon the forest floor, turning right, left, dirt scuffed and branches felled.
A thicket bore her scent, and Barrett pulled forwards. Flicked his ears to face the shrubbery. He smelt her, but did not hear her, and was unwilling to try and wedge himself into a space so small. Drew in the air. Turned back, only to find an onslaught of her scent from further up. Damnit, he murmured, cursing himself for the time waste. She was a quick one, he could see that much, and for all he knew, she could be far beyond the taiga by now.
He continued to run, back on the original path, following whichever scent she had led behind. Saw the sunlight breaking through the birch, leading way to the plains, and decided, to hell with it, and barrelled right through. Made slight pause as he caught her scent upon a fern; smirk raising upon his face.
Eyes focused in on her figure—a furthering dot upon the horizon. Tail high behind her. Didn't waste his breath on words, instead, used his heavy paws, his well-muscled build, to power himself forwards. Would find himself in range to tumble into her, soon enough. Such a thought was warm within his mind.

she shoves through the last stretch of birch with everything she has left, breath ragged in her lungs, paws striking the ground in uneven rhythm. she wasn’t built for sprints like this; light and quick, yeah, but her stamina was shit and she could already feel the burn licking up her sides.

she flattened her ears and pushed harder, claws scraping for purchase as the ground dipped—but if she could just make it under the first sweep of hanging branches, he’d lose sight trying to follow.

the grove’s edge is just between the trees. almost there. almost—she can even seen the hanging leaves from the willow—but no. there is a tremor of earth behind her, the rush of something big closing fast, then impact, heavy as a horse. she squeals.

He nearly lost her within the trees, but he surged for the final stretch, using his back legs to kick him forwards and knocking into her. A moment of panic at her squeal, where he made sure that he wasn't crushing her, laying on his back from the tumble a pawstep away from her.
Breath left him in quick succession; the rise and fall of his chest, as pants left his throat. Ya cheated, he said between. Heard... the twig snap, and he turned his head from where he laid on his back so that he may look at her, where she, too, would likely be laid on the grass within the grove.
The grove. Oh, he huffed, rolling to his stomach and pushing himself upwards. Is this, he breathed. Er, yer grove? Still, his breathing was ragged, but his chest rose and fell at reasonable speeds, now. Stepped forwards, once, twice, a few times, really.
Until he found himself at the base of a willow tree.

the world spins in shades of green and brown and blue until she skids to a stop on her side, breath gone, chest heaving uselessly. “ow.” she hisses, but the disapproval is thin, hardly genuine. her limbs flail like a newborn fawn, trying to find which direction was up. a whine scraped out of her as she dragged in a lungful of air that burned all the way down. “took that boulder comment personally, i see.”

once she rights herself, she stills. for a long moment, she only lays there stunned, ribs fluttering in shallow, useless breaths. then her head jerked up, ears pinned, eyes blown wide like a fawn. callahan doesn’t appear to have any easier of a landing, ending up on his back like overturned tree roots.

“me? cheat?” she rasped, still catching her breath, “nonsense, you can’t prove it, you were turned around,” she coughed, trying to wheeze the air back into her chest. there was laughter under it, thin and breathless, but real.

her tail thumped once against the grass in a weak, lopsided wag. she could feel her heart hammering under her ribs, each beat too big for her small frame.

she watches him stand and walk closer to the tree through messy strands of fur stuck to her face. nods, even if he is not looking to see. it’s a quaint place, wrapped in green with leaves dripping down like curtains, wildflowers at her feet. dotted with pink and violent and varying shades of yellow, pretty petals and vines of all sorts. “depends, like it?” she won’t believe him if he says no.

At her denial, he laughed. A genuine, hearty laugh. One that rumbled from his chest, long and rolling, bellowing like thunderclap. Sure, princess, he hummed, turning towards the other side of the tree.
Whatever ye'd like ta tell yerself, i s'pose, and Barrett would use this opportunity to cast a glance back towards her, where she continued to lay on the grass with fur in her face. He chuckled at the sight, then looked back towards the tree; to the grove around them. Like it's an understatement, hun, the outlaw mused. Don't think I've ever seen a place quite like it, nor had he ever met a lady quite like this one...
But, there was a first time for everything, right?

This yer lil' hide-away, huh? He hummed, making a slow circle of the tree. He looked back towards the woman, came a few paces towards her, and plopped back down onto the grass, arms out-stretched before him.
Looking quite comfortable, one might add.