Jade Fern Grove slender capes of red and chrome

For @Swift. If I've read everything right, the bear-chased trio is back soooo that's where I'm setting this in the timeline. Figuratively, anyway. <3

Midday brought on the caress of cool winds that Pasha remembered but could not place, though the reason why they reminded him of something was lost on him. Perhaps it was reminiscent of their lives along the mountainside. Perhaps it was a chilly touch from the fringes of his infancy. Truthfully, he paid it little mind as he wove his way through the varied paths of the grove, paths that were beginning to be worn in by the wolves that made up their pack and home.

He had been considering stealing away to the borders, but thought better to risk it. His mother and siblings were only newly back home, and what had happened to them in their absence was enough for him to reconsider his own plan of action. His usual plan of action. The whole ordeal set unease into him, the very notion of evil in existence in their world nothing more than a concept in his mind that was not put to the test. That was no longer.

Pasha's trek came to an eventual slow as he picked up on the thinnest of scents in the air — Swift. He had seen the marks that covered his brother's face, the worst of them no doubt to set as scars. And there Pasha lingered for a moment, debating if his brother — who in the past had been so sour over their move, so sour over so many things — would entertain his company. He thought it best to take something, and moved to unearth a cache nearby.

Several minutes later and no doubt streaked with damp earth, Pasha was working steadily to follow after Swift with a beat-up hare clutched between his jaws. He had no real concept of where his brother may have been tucked away to rest, or whether or not he was there. He couldn't have helped to be standoffish towards the whole event from start to finish; the world had thrown things together so quickly and to Pasha, it had happened all at once. His brother's discontent, the notes of discord sown between his parents, and then suddenly, the absence of half his family. It overwhelmed him, but he was determined to work through it somehow.

glass animals — black mambo

we are back indeed! :D

He had scarcely moved since returning home; a combination of exhaustion a profound sense of defeat had rooted him to the den in which he had been laid. His sister had not left his side much, though she was gone now to perhaps eat or get a drink. He had never been partial to closeness or affection, but in the aftermath of losing his eyes and with it the only world he knew, he found Allure's presence comforting, and he was grateful that she chose to spend so much time with him.

He did not like to admit it, but he was afraid to be alone. So, when he heard the sound of paws close to the den, and caught a whiff of his brother, he pulled himself to the entrance and chuffed.

Slowly, he wove his way in closer and closer to the area in which he suspected his weary family was tucked away. And sure enough, he found it roughly the same time he heard a chuff to grab his attention. Swift wasn't hard to spy out from where he rested, but the sight that Pasha saw stirred those uneasy feelings right back to the surface. He idled for a bit too long, not sure of what to do, and finally prompted himself to draw in closer to the den.

Close to Swift, he set the raggedy hare down and nudged it towards his brother. "I brought you something," he said, content partially with the fact that Swift's eyes were closed and he wouldn't see just how worn out the poor thing was. Nothing would have beat something fresh, but Pasha knew better than to exhaust himself chasing after something he hadn't really figured out how to catch. "Wanna guess what it is?" he went on to say, this time aware of how much that unease filtered into his tone. Swift may have been scared to be alone, but Pasha found that he was scared of how his brother would react to him.

It was not lost on the eyeless Frostfur that his brother hesitated to come to him, and his ears fell back. He could not see, but he could feel how he affected those around him, and he heard it in the words they spoke to him and within earshot of him. It hurt him, but his attention did not linger on that pain as Pasha came to him; oddly, for that was exactly the sort of pessimistic thing the sour boy traditionally got stuck on. He was simply grateful that his brother came at all.

He could smell what his brother had brought. He heard the soft scuff as the rabbit's fur brushed the ground. He had not much of an appetite, but that Pasha had brought him a gift warmed him and lifted his spirits some, until he heard that familiar unease in the boy's words. He sighed deeply, and was quiet at length. "Are you afraid of me?" he murmured, his forlorn voice scarcely above a whisper. He did not think his brother feared his reactions, but rather, the sight of his wounds.

Swift did not answer his question, instead lost in silence that enveloped Pasha as well. For several long moments, the more colorful of the two considered simply leaving. Perhaps his brother did not want his company, or simply was tired and wanted to rest. Or maybe he had already started resting. Quietly, he let out a breath only to begin to catch the words that Swift murmured with a turning ear.

"What?" he said, though the question did nothing to punctuate the fact that he had picked up on the gist of the query. "I, I'm not afraid of you, Swift. I just didn't want to bug ya if you were resting. That's silly," he went on without pause for his brother to repeat himself. A halfhearted chuckle trailed after his words.

"I missed you," came his voice again in the lull. It almost felt like a childish admission to make, but then again they had all missed him. They had missed Allure and Bazi too, of course, but Pasha had yet found a way that he was comfortable to articulate such. To him, it made more sense to make sure it didn't happen again and thus, he had put himself to work along the borders.

He was not inclined to believe his brother, but his tongue was not quick to respond and he was too depressed for much of a reaction; his disbelief went unspoken and unshown. In the lull, his brother confessed that he had missed him. Swift swallowed, and slowly he pulled himself forward, reaching ahead to probe blindly until he found the ruff of his brother's cheek. He nuzzled Pasha at length. It was perhaps the first time he had shown such affection for his sibling. "I missed you too," he whispered.

He had. He had missed his family, and he had missed home for they were his home. Not the grove, for he had been suspicious of the place since the first time he had seen it, and that he had been chased from it by bears did nothing to bolster his opinion. Rather, it had sunk it further, and laced it with a fear that they would return here.

Swift drew back from his nuzzle. "It's rabbit," he finally answered.

When Swift came closer, Pasha could not help but watch. He thought maybe at first his brother was displeased with his answers, and maybe he was about to turn himself around and disappear within the confines of the dark and earthy den. But that turn he thought of never came, and the young wolf fought every urge to grow tense as his brother reached for him. Instead of some spiteful and mean hiss of words or a cold touch, he found the warmth that had always been apart of Swift's being. The nuzzle was something that Pasha couldn't help but not return himself, though he did it with gentleness. It would not lack the warmth that stood behind the fact that he was genuine in the notion that he had missed his sour brother.

So at least if nothing else, they could agree on that.

As their brotherly embrace broke off, Swift answered his question with certainty. A smile beamed across Pasha's muzzle for a moment, even though he knew his brother would not see it. Or could not see it, anyway. He was of the mind — or at least hadn't listened to the babble of adults for once — that Swift would simply see again one day. "That's right! I thought you might get hungry or something, and since you know, you're supposed to rest and all... I thought maybe you'd want it." Not like he'd be going out and hunting, right? And besides, Pasha wanted to contribute to helping him heal too.

His appetite had been near nonexistent to since the attack; he had scarcely consumed a bite, and certainly not enough to maintain his current weight, let alone provide for his growing body. He knew he had to eat, and further to that the preternatural guide in his head insisted (in a not so pleasant way) that he do so.

"Thanks," he said, and a sincere gratefulness could be heard in the words instead of his more customary sarcasm. He bobbed his head as he nosed around for the rabbit, until his chin bumped the slain creature. He pinched it between his teeth, and pulled it toward him until it rested between his paws. His ears turned as he considered it and willed himself to eat, but he hesitated for he had abstained for food long enough that his stomach now felt nauseated with the emptiness.

"Did you want some?" he asked, and lifted his head to face toward his brother, or so he believed. In actuality, he faced somewhere past Pasha's shoulder.

It was a bizarre thing for Pasha to endure, having to watch his brother do something as simple as reach out for some tender morsel of food. His stomach knotted over the fact that it seemed to elude Swift however briefly; the same feeling dissipated when his brother had grasped the hare to pull it to him. Instinctively, Pasha stepped away from Swift to settle elsewhere, though it was close enough that he did not feel his brother would think himself alone. Hell, if he had wanted to, Pasha probably could have reached out to smack him on the head... not that he would have. Perhaps if things were much different, yes. But as it were, they weren't, and the best that Pasha could do was keep his pale sibling company.

Reclining out against the sun warmed earth, he heard Swift speak to him again. Another offsetting sort of thing — Swift wasn't even looking in the right direction. Pasha chose not to let it bother him, or at least tried to. "Nah, I'm good. I dug up some food earlier." A chuckle escaped him as he recalled. "It was uh, something I saw Whittier bury this morning. I don't know where he got it but I think he'll live without it." Not like he really needed it anyway, right? No doubt that their rotund sibling would be bawling about it later though.

His lips twitched with a hint of mirth at his brother's joke. He may have laughed, but in that same moment he was reminded that he would never see the plump shape of Whittier again. He frowned at this, but as he remembered how his sourness affected Pasha before (and how terrible he felt about it after), he made an effort to lighten up. "You'll have to tell me how round he gets," he quipped. In direct contrast to his gluttonous sibling, Swift was rather slim in keeping with his name. He looked fast.

He bent his head to the rabbit, and though he still felt ill, he started to pluck at the fur on its leg, until he had exposed the muscle. He nibbled on this.

"I'm sure you'll hear him rolling by from a mile away," he said, a faint smirk coming to pass across his countenance. It was probably a little mean to pick on Whittier, sure, but Pasha couldn't resist it either. If he had to guess what their brother was doing right then and there, he was probably about two paces from trying to crawl back into the womb of their mother. Truthfully perhaps none of them had missed Bazi as much as Whittier would have.

Stretching out a bit more as his brother nibbled at the rabbit, Pasha blew away a tuff of fur that came rolling towards him. He was tempted to keep on talking, but about what? For as curious as he was about what had happened to them all, he knew the story. He had heard the story, obviously. But that didn't seem so appropriate to talk about. Neither did talking about patrolling the borders, or picking on their brother any more. No sense in beating that dead horse. He was faltering and the sense of walking on eggshells was coming back full force.

last post for me but we can have another!

The brothers fell into silence, the white one chewing on small strips of flesh as he liberated them from the rabbit's haunch. In this slow manner, he managed to consume half, before his face contorted at the mere thought of having another bite. He knew he needed to eat more, but that would have to wait. He lifted his muzzle from the rabbit, and quietly said to his brother, "I'll save this for later."

The silence before did not bother him, but it was then that he realized he was not sure how to relate to his sibling. Playing, exploring, tending to duties... none of this seemed possible anymore. He was not sure what to even talk about, as he felt he lived now in his own world separate from what happened outside his den.

"I think I'm going to sleep," he murmured, before he retreated further into his den and curled into a ball, his spine facing Pasha.

The silence became bearable within time, but perhaps only because Pasha let his gaze and thoughts wander a bit. He pushed himself away from thinking about how things would be now and instead thought more of himself — specifically how things would be once he was truly grown up.

It was the sound of Swift's voice that stirred him from those thoughts and probably romanticized dreams; his attention snapped back not unlike a rubber band returning to its original shape. His voice was quiet again, as though he had been hurt for more deeply than the wounds that crossed his visage. Pasha almost wondered if it was because he had been so quiet, but withheld asking what he had done wrong. The possibility stood very firmly in his mind that yes, perhaps Swift was really just tired.

"Okay," Pasha said as his brother began to retreat towards the comfort of the den. "I'll come by later." And he almost said to see you again but this time the words managed to stay firmly lodged in his mouth. They were promptly swallowed into nothingness and he too rose and ventured off. Once he was some distance away from the den, he found himself surprised at the lighter feeling that consumed him, and a shaky sigh escaped him. Things were tricky, very tricky indeed.