Blackfeather Woods your stars in my lungs

He had slept for a long time. It was strange because the last thing he remembered was tearing into that dark woman, his own blood staining the ground in almost equal measure, and then

walking through the woods, a freshly killed rabbit in his jaws. The scent of strangers on his pelt. Pups, a woman, a fam --

He'd stopped in his tracks and turned north, marvelling at the sudden change of the seasons. His wounds were no longer grevious. If he thought very hard, he could picture a pale woman with kind eyes coming to his aid. Oh dear -- just stay still. You're still very weak. Let me

He had to find Moonshadow. She'd be worried, he knew. Only, he was far from the wilderness where he'd last seen her. Far from anything he knew, except that, somehow, the land was achingly familiar. His?

It didn't matter. He was her only family. What had become of his timid sister in his absence? He couldn't imagine it'd been very long, but he felt as though it'd been months since he'd last seen her, and the journey back to the Teekon Wilds took weeks and weeks. Finally, though, he found them, and the faintest trace of his sister's scent. He was surprised, somehow, to follow her scent to Blackfeather, and worried as he tipped back his head to announce his presence.

Just how long had he been asleep?

Her search for Falling Star ended in failure and she felt hopeless as she returned to Blackfeather. She couldn’t keep anyone safe not even herself. That woman’s marks still were fresh on her face, the female couldn’t teach them to dress them so she let them be. 

It had been night when a single howl broke through the trees. Moonshadow had been curled around her pups, @Rowan and @Moonshine when it awoke her from her slumber. That one single howl; filled with a familiarity that she knew all too well and she carefully arose from where she laid; being gentle enough to not wake her children and set out to the borders to check who had summoned them.

As she trekked through the woods; she saw the figure of a wolf. It was faint due to her eye but deep down she felt as though she knew who it was and as she got closer he guess was right and she felt her heart sink to the floor. “N..n..Nightstar.” Oh how she hoped it was him this time; hoping it wasn’t just another illusion. “I...Is it really you?”

She moved with a serpentine rhythm, purpose in each long stride that led her to the call. There had been a few lately which was more than there usually was. Weary as she could be of strangers (such feelings were usually present in the way her silver gaze seemed to chill or how her tail curled) she welcomed each company to the woods. Assessed them for threat levels and then...well, she could only go from there to wherever the arrivals wished to go.

The Merei had been a touch more punctual than the Wood's Morta. Regardless her tail raised every so slightly to inform the stranger of her standing among the three of them. Of course, she had just barely caught the tail end of what Moonshadow has said. Unaware that she had uttered the man's name. Silver eyes roamed to look him over before settling on her packmate with a sharply raised brow, but softer look in her gaze.

Explain.

The shadows seemed to shift, and then she stood before him, looking and smelling subtly changed. Or was it he and his perceptions that'd changed? He felt like a stranger on her doorstep, his tongue heavy and his teeth too numerous in his mouth. "Moonshadow," he breathed, his voice a low and husky from disuse. Even his voice felt strange.

Before he'd fully registered even his sister's presence, another inkdark shewolf shimmered into being. The whole encounter felt like a fever dream; like the same sort of thing he'd just woken up from. The stranger's silence seemed to intensify this, as well as the colorless glint of her eyes. She was a sharp and pretty thing, and he thought of a pale, lissome girl with a sudden pang of longing, but he did not know who or what it was he was pining for.

A beat too late, he remembered to lower his gaze, and splayed his ears and gave a perfunctory sweep of his tail to show his contrition. "I beg your pardon," he said in a soft, hoarse voice. Speaking over the hush of the forest seemed almost criminal, all of the sudden.

The female was about to speak when Jakoul had appeared and Moonshadow couldn’t help but continue wagging her tail. “Jakoul.” She stated simply. “This is my brother Nightstar.” She still couldn’t believe he came back. She still couldn’t contain her happiness at the thought that her brother was indeed still alive.

Family of their Morta it seemed. A brother.

Ah. It was more of a sound than an actual word. She cast a gaze upon him once more, assessing his state. The man seemed well enough to be showing up on their borders as, presumably, a loner. Respectful too. The Morta was not a powerful or dominant creature by any means but she had grown to appreciate those who showed her the respect of her position.

Her posture eased ever so slightly, motioning with her sharp muzzle for him to do the same. Stay? It was not an offer but a question. Ah...or... Oh what was the word they used? Visit? The word lacked grace as she spoke it, warbling almost but it didn't deter her confidence. She still stood tall with her gaze locked on the man.

Nightstar's yellow eyes flickered between the two, his uncertainty over the question posed tangible in the air between them. Stay, of course, except he really had to get back to... to... 

His gaze finally settled on Moonshadow, mystified as he took in the changes, both subtle and overt. There was a wound dulling one of her green eyes, and a scent about her that he knew well, by now. "You ⁠— y-you're..." he began, but a feeling rose up within him and almost drove him back the way he'd come. More and more, he was sure there was something that he'd missed; something he'd needed to find or do before he'd left the forest in which he'd awoken.

Nightstar steeled himself, chasing off the strange figures at the edge of his imagination. "To stay," he said softly. "My place is with my sister, and I've nowhere else to go." But although his words were decisive, his tone left room for the woman ⁠— Jakoul ⁠— to disagree.

Something seemed to be a little off about her brother. She wondered what had happened to him in the past year that he had been gone. As he spoke she wondered what he was going to say and it felt as though he had been staring at the wounds on her face and out of habit she glanced down at her paws for a brief second but once he said he was to stay she gazed back at him but remained quiet as she waited for Jakoul to speak.

There was little to nothing stopping her from sweeping the male into the fold of Blackfeather, initiating him as one of them, but she had one small thing to ask of him. Perhaps one of the more important questions truly. Skills? What do? She seemed to soften some as her head tilted with curiosity. The Morta had no desire to keep the two siblings apart but she needed to know that he would not be useless in their ranks. There was work to be done around the woods — along with plenty of young mouths that needed to be fed, protected, and cared for.

A sneaking conviction that he was of little to no worth to a pack needed to be fought back before Nightstar could respond. "I can hunt, and I can defend the borders if need be," he said, and both statements were entirely true. There was no reason he should feel like such a bastard. He chalked it up to having abandoned his sister the way he had, even if he hadn't meant to. He'd still let her down, and he was feeling, more and more, like he'd let her down rather more badly that he'd originally thought.

His gaze turned to Moonshadow, but he was reluctant to speak the questions burning on his tongue with an audience here. He was reluctant, even, to speak to his sister. She didn't need to know how much time he'd lost -- it would only make her worry. But he had to find out himself. How was he to do that without telling her more than she needed to know?

permission granted to skip Moonshadow. last post from me <3

Silence swept over her for a beat, thoughtful of his words. They needed more defenders. With mothers busy with their children, Jakoul knew it would be wise to seek a second set of hands for her border work. She would task him in the coming days perhaps. Come. She ushered him in finally. The Morta would aim to brush against his shoulder briefly, mark him with the scent of Blackfeather. Welcome. She would rumble before turning around to leave.

A look would briefly be cast to Moonshadow as she rumbled warmly. Show woods? Although she had little doubt that the woman wouldn't do such. She would aim to leave unless she was stopped.