Broken Boulder Crucible of Broken Blouder

Conserve his strength - that was something he could concentrate on easily enough. So there he sat beneath the fir tree, the gentle breeze blew the glacial fed pond’s scent to him and the icy chill made him shiver a bit as the time passed by silently.  The scratches along his nose were not deep and likely wouldn’t even scar, but there were three of them - one running the length of his soft black nose while the other two ran the length of his muzzle width ways. They’d long ago stopped bleeding, though his nose was keen and he could still smell the wound well. It was along his shoulders that the damage had been done. 

The left shoulder held scrapes and scratches, the right held six puncture wounds that were deep and two clawed tears, not as deep as the punctures but they were lengthy and curved down his shoulder blade. No infection had set in yet but any healer knew it was coming - coyotes weren’t known for being clean and healthy, Leila though, hopefully she knew just how to handle this situation. As per the doctor’s orders, he sat beneath the tree’s coverings and conserved himself in the dusk light. 

Green eyes moved off to the horizon, the distant creek was running gently through the curves and occasional rapids, a log was fallen into the creek and jammed against a rock to create a gentle pocket of the current where a beautiful tan colored doe stood with her speckled fawn, they drank heartily. Redmoon eyed them curiously, he did not hunger and so they were safe this coming night, but he knew by his nose that he was upwind of them - surely they could smell a nearby predator, yet they remained confident in their stance. Fidgety of course, but they did not find the desire to find flight. Redmoon had recognized this sight before and he instantly knew a buck was very near to protect its doe and fawn. It was also a display that he knew came from the packless scent he gave off. 

For well over a year he’d traveled alone and he rarely marked territory for he learned it only gave off his position. The deer knew he was alone and that this wasn’t his hunting grounds. Thus they feared him little and considered his station no more a threat than a rat. He didn’t mind, he wasn’t here to make his name known or his presence fearful. He was content. Naturally though, alone he couldn’t take down a doe or buck without some cunning - but he also knew that other smaller prey would be easier with less risk involved. Surely, the deer had nothing to fear from Redmoon. 

Suddenly a new scent was added to his and the doe and fawn looked up from their dusk lit sip of cool water. Ears perked in his direction and he simply observed them in this moment as they took stock in this new scent and soon enough they were gone into the bramble setting. Seconds later a gorgeous buck strutted out, his rack was immense and grey ran his chest with whites to show his age and strength, crossed the creek and snorted at the wolf pair before making off with his kin. The sound of a frosty angel filled his ears and they snapped to attention, her mere presence added to his own had told the deer that he was actually not alone and the addition made his threat level rise enough that fear took hold and caution pushed them away. He recalled how he and Anubis had taken down a mule deer somewhere deep in the Bracken Woods. His mind drifted to something he denied - there was strength in the pack. 

His interest level with the ideal of being one of a pack was quite low. Things were easy out here on his own. Sure he went hungry most of the time, any simple wound could make him go lame and kill him, shelter was scarce - but he was the master of his life - a vagabond and a king in the same sense of the meaning. Nothing to fear save for the fears he allowed. Her scent was caught through his coppery filled nose and he couldn’t help but listen as she spoke softly to him. Her voice was a medicine in itself and it calmed his rambling thoughts and his rough hewn heart of granite. Her concern ran as gentle as the creek, though as he looked downstream the rapids intensified, he saw himself there. As coarse as the stone’s surface but tempered by the stream’s caress. A direct reflection to what was going on here as she warned him of the stinging sensations to come. 

Instantly he tried to think of something manly to quip, something light hearted to ease the tension and worry in her, but all he came back with was - “Let’s have it then.” He sat up straight and positioned himself tall and broad as a statue. His determined stare concentrated on the task at hand and he froze like solid iron - only to be shattered when she next made a request, her voice near trembling with true concern. 

But what was he going to talk about? He certainly didn’t have an interesting life - living from day to day, scrounging up whatever he could find and hoping it didn’t rain in the afternoons while digging thorns from his weary pads thanks to this accursed wood he found himself in. But before he knew it, he was humming a tune of words through his rough and youthful voice. He went back and recalled a time where he was happiest, a time before the Caller had found the names of all his kin. “Have you ever heard of the Scorekeeper?” He swallowed uncomfortably as he continued while looking up at the darkening sky above, “up there, watches the Scorekeeper. He’s no god that I know of, I don’t even know if he’s a he. But the things we do in this life are taken and tallied under the Scorekeeper’s watch. Every action, valorous or cowardly - all are taken into account. He may taken a tally or give one. In the end, when the Caller knows our names in death, we will go to see the Scorekeeper and he will give us our tally. The worthy among us will reap a life of harvest and we’ll travel out here in the wilderness alone no more.” He paused, “Blackbriar was his name, the hunter who taught me to survive. As a pup he’d take me out for days at a time when the moon was right and we’d drift as far from pack lands as we could - or as far as my little legs could go. Distance soon became a span of time alone, we traveled and moved as far as the crow could fly. Over the southern mountains and into grassy plains as far as the eye could see. He taught me to live out there in the wilderness, how to hunt and dig a hole to lien against the wind and rain. I was taught that if you want to survive - you don’t have to be the strongest or the fastest or even the smartest - you just have to stand up tall, square your shoulders and believe in yourself.” His ears flinched backwards as she worked, the sting catching him off guard though he regained his composure and kept talking. “I’ve been standing tall ever since and this, here is a place I’ve been too more times than not. I won’t give up on those wolf pups, not for the Scorekeeper, not this time. This time it’s for me.” Raw and righteous fire filled his eyes, Redmoon was quite serious and he’d see it done one way or another. 

 He paused, glanced over his shoulder at her and grimaced with a slight smile that had many sorrowful nights on it. Taking her in as the dusk lit scene began to settle, the moon was out and bright while a light, late shower began to spring up and as it shattered against the canopy of the fir tree it showered them in a glistening mist. 

“Thank you.” He offered quietly. 

Time began to spend its way here but Redmoon realized that this was something he’d not ever really had, a companionship. However temporary it may be. She probably had a family or a pack to call home - once this was over she’d leave and go back, he would still be here ‘neath the tree tops. He didn’t like the prospect of a pack life, but inside he didn’t want to lose his chance here. He watched as the flakes of blood dripped from her coat to start revealing the crystalline perfection once more, it inspired him to know more - since night had fallen and the rains would make traveling four hours back the way they’d come quite inadvisable - or so his instincts told him so. 

“What has brought you all the way out here?” He asked sincerely. He figured it was quite obvious what he was doing - finding the next day’s light and little else.