Whitebark Stream Fate's Calling (Leila, Slade, Cry)

was a tale of hardship, Cry had been raised with expectations from a life that had given him nothing at all. Redmoon was sympathetic though he did not let the tale sway his decision. However, knowing it was a measure of faith. Cry was reaching out in an uncomfortable manner and as untrusting as Redmoon was, he picked up on that notion right off. This wasn’t easy for the dark pelt to divulge and while the red pelt wasn’t particularly the sensitive sort, he understood what it took for someone to open to a stranger on behalf of another. It was necessity.  

He nodded, accepting the story for what it was worth. But there were questions here too. ‘What was stopping Slade from killing Cry once they traveled to go see him. If Cry had rejected this Slade and abandoned him to a bear, surely there was retribution to be had.’ Redmoon though kept his thoughts to himself, no doubt Cry was already considering the consequences and was fully prepared to face them. 

Perhaps that’s what this was all about. A pilgrimage for Cry while saving his sister from an unfavorable situation while using Redmoon to help with the journey. He smiled inwardly, unable to blame this dark pelt - with three wolves unified as one, they could make the journey safely. That was another thing then, where was Slade? This thought Redmoon did relieve into the night air. “Where would this Slade be then? I have a feeling he’s nowhere near here is he.”

What had done it though for Redmoon? Was it Leila? Partially, yes. If she was going to be moving far from here then this was the only chance he’d have to see her again. Even if Slade rejected him, Redmoon was fit enough to survive in the wilderness somewhere nearby. What of Slade? The story of Cry’s, how Slade had come to a suicidal rescue against a bear of all things, such loyalty couldn’t be bought. It was partially this as well - such unyielding sway was unknown to Redmoon. He was curious to meet Slade for himself. Finally a third portion of his agreement came from knowledge itself. These wolves had much to offer and Redmoon was a sharp bit, if he could learn their skills then his own survivability was on the line. He had little desire to become an assassin, he wasn’t a murderer. But learning how to really fight was something he’d vowed to do after his scrapes with the coyotes up north. 

In conclusion, there was more of a future with these wolves than there was without them. 

Again he nodded, “Fair enough. Let’s go meet your Slade, shall we.”