Hushed Willows tangled hills and tiny verio singing

He had been out to survey the territory when the rain started in. Nothing more than the outer band to something far more omnious and out to sea, the rain light and warm; the thunder itself a low rumble too quiet to drown out anything. Mordecai felt the temperature drop right out as the earth quenched its perpetual thirst, but this too would pass. Even in the absence of warmth the humidity clung to him like a wet blanket and much like the rainwater that was soaking him, he drug it around beneath the cover of trees that were not going to be making a convenient umbrella any time soon.

But at least like the ground, he could tell that the forestry was regrowing too. It would have been nice to see the willows, especially ones that were knitted together and offered the seclusion that he could come to discover about the Keep itself. The last couple of days had been nothing but a flurry of change, from names to faces he would take time recalling accurately, to the acceptance that it would going to be fairly warm in their shared lodging when his children—how decidedly larger they were now, at that—opted to drape themselves over him. He would not trade these comforts, however.

As another rumble of thunder followed him between trees, he came to pause on a lumpy overlook. Habit left him tracing his solitary gaze in search of prey. Higher ground had always been good for that, but nothing came of it in the few moments he devoted towards it.

iron & wine — new mexico's no breeze

Stark couldn't allow his guard to drop. Not now, when they had lost a wolf to starvation, not now, when the pack was trying to settle under the two female Alpha's. Though he had never heard it spoken openly, the dissenters numbers were steadily dropping. Trick and Nova Rose were alone in their grumbling, the hopes that Warbone would just reappear was becoming smaller. If the male did return he was uncertain how the females would handle such a thing; who would leave their position, if they did so? 

There was also the matter of Reek. It was a great distance from the Grotto to the Keep, and Stark had made it at the height of the famine. Now that the grass was returning the prey was also coming back - only a few days ago he and Silas had caught a hare, though he made the pup take it back to his family. There was a chance the male would have the strength to come looking for his son, if he could tear himself from his religion long enough to do so. Stark didn't like the idea of Reek coming around, but the prospects of being followed, of being found had dwindled in the weeks since the visit. 

So it left Stark mulling his thoughts, caught in a summer storm as he was heading back in towards the Crook. The rain was welcome compared to the heat, his dark pelt seeming to just attract all manner of unpleasantry. His blue eyes caught another figure moving, a male he didn't know well but seemed to be one of Harlyn's wolves. "Heading in?" He asked, assuming the thunder was keeping everyone bound inside.

The weather changed in an instant; Mordecai felt the swift and increase of the wind, felt the rain beat a little more steady against him and the ground. But it did not sway him to seek shelter, at least not yet. It wasn't until he had nearly finished his survey of the lower terrain and felt the presence of another that he became compelled to pull himself away. If there were any game to be found, it was no doubt hunkering down to wait out the storm, and with it he brought his solitary eye to rest on his company.

"Tempted to," he answered during his once-over. Harlyn had mentioned him, but Mordecai didn't recall the specifics. His attention had been elsewhere, perhaps selfishly set on his family. "But a little rain never hurt anyone. Beats the heat, right?" His gaze wandered then, back towards still unfamiliar scenery. How bare it still seemed; it was a wonder any of them still stayed.

To the male's words Stark offered a small grin and nod. "Definitely." As dark as he was the heat sapped most of his strength, with the famine, the rest. Stark didn't like to just wait though, he hated the idea of taking his time and of lazing about. Some days were meant for it. He regarded the other male for a moment, imagining the pair that he made with Harlyn. "I'm Stark," He offered after only a few moments. No need to dig into his personal business for the reasons that he had been gone, no need to analyze the time the male had been apart from his family. That was his and his alone. 

Stark was glad for the sake of the family that they'd found each other. As hopeful as he was of his own reunion with his sisters he could only imagine how much more important it was for a father and his family. "I met Silas the other day. Well. I mean, I met them all, but we had a little time alone. Helped him catch a rabbit." The male offered with a genuine smile. "He's a good kid." Shy, but, determined, and in troubled times like they'd had it was a welcome thing. Other children might have wilted under the pressure but at the least the boys that Stark had spent the most time around had kept up the hope it seemed. 

For the Keep that meant good things, if the young hadn't been so dampered by life. Tambourine probably wouldn't even remember it, and maybe the famine would only be a blip on the other children's radars too.

As far as first impressions went, Mordecai sensed that Stark was a better sort than the one who had greeted him along the borders. He spoke easy, nothing superfluous in those mannerisms or words to suggest that there was anything that needed read between the lines. It may have been what he had to say, or maybe because he avoided temptation via the way of curiosity to ask why Mordecai had gone separate from his family for so long. It may have been none of those reasons either, just an intuition that led him to like-minded individuals.

"He's a good kid," he echoed, "they all are. It's a shame that we've had such a rough year for them to be brought into." From the cougar to the trek they had made to get away, and now this famine... it was a wonder that they were in as fair shape as they were. All of them, really. "I'm Mordecai, by the way." He didn't know whether or not his name was known, though there had been a brief moment of acquaintances made and so on. That had been pushed down in memory; he couldn't have claimed to have paid total attention.

Stark agreed with that sentiment - it was an awful year to be born. There was likely not to be any regret in the tawny pair for their children, but, if it had been possible to see the future maybe they would have held off a bit. As it was, they'd had their children, and if they clearly remembered everything then they'd just be stronger for it. "They'll certainly appreciate everything they have." Stark offered after a moment of mulling it over. He wasn't a father, not really, but he had to think that children would appreciate their parent's efforts.

Stark nodded, he remembered hearing Harlyn speak of him."It's a pleasure to meet you." Stark said evenly, for a moment just soaking (literally) up the rain and the cooler temperature it offered. "How long have you and Harlyn known each other?' He asked. The children - he assumed they were less than half a year old, but he was a horrid guesser of ages. Young or grown, unless they were greying he was rarely to get things right. He only knew Tambourine's age because the puppy mirrored the time he'd spent in the lands. 

He did not answer immediately, instead raising his head as though he could truly gauge how much time had passed. The reality of such was that he hung on a previous statement, wondering if his children would appreciate all they had. He had nothing that would discredit such a thing, but rather the thought of whether or not they would hold an inkling of resentment for all they had gone through already lingered. He was projecting and caught on soon enough; the question discarded itself for another time.

"Quite a while," came his answer, with little thought. Long enough, he deigned to think. She had been either following in his wake or was steady at his side for some time. Well over a year of seasons, perhaps more. Long enough that he had long lost track of the days and the plethora therein of adventures, separations, and the like. But he did not elaborate on the length or stories behind it.

"How long have you resided here?" For the way Stark carried himself, Mordecai wagered that he was higher up on the chain of command. Perhaps he had come to the region with Warbone originally, or perhaps he had been recruited to claim grounds. Still, it was an interesting point he sought to investigate, if nothing else than for his own benefit.

For Stark it was still hard to imagine being present and connected to one soul for so long that you forgot where you started and they began. He was connected to a few people, sure, and he was very close to a small handful but could he say it's the same level? He wasn't sure. He twitched his dark lips, corners curling into a smile. Their family seemed to be whole and together and to someone like Stark with more of a wanderers heart it was admirable. 

"Since just after the locusts died off." It was an easy way to say how long and mark out the months that had passed. It felt like an eternity, and now, seeing the promise that things were going to change. With the rain not letting up it meant that the long dormant seeds could grow and sprout and with that would come along the hungry mouths like their own. They'd have to be careful, ride that fine line between feeding themselves but not killing off the promise of the future. 

"I wonder how long before things get better." With any luck things would improve soon. 

*CRAWLS AWAY FROM WORK, LIFE, ET AL*

Mordecai wondered too when things would be back to normal. Rather, he wondered if there would be a time when everything seemed normal again. It had been for the longest time that a constant black cloud seemed to hang over his family, though the famine had done nothing more than whittle them into thin cut-outs of themselves and concrete that feeling even more. But so far, having come to the Keep, things felt like they were on the slow climb back up. Whether or not they would make it all the way back up that hill or plateau out somewhere else was anyone's guess; he certainly did not want to venture down that rabbit hole of thought.

He didn't comment on the length of how long Stark had been there; the locusts seemed to last an eternity when day in and day out they had been plagued with them. How whatever restless sleep they acquired only revealed to them the distortion and destruction of the landscape that had once held untold beauties. Even now, with the regrowth, Mordecai still found it fairly barren like a mockery of what had once been colorful valleys and woodland.

"I guess we'll find out one way or another," he finally said, his gaze returning to Stark briefly. "My only hope is that it's before we start having to deal with winter. If things felt thorny then, they'll be worse when it's cold." It didn't need to be said, he thought, as it was probably a niggling thought on the back of all their minds. Yet things so far seemed good, even if he wasn't quite ready to go out and say they were promising.

THIS WAS ONLY TEN DAYS LATE. WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE TWO YEARS WITH AS MUCH STUFF AS HAS HAPPENED??

For Stark his thoughts didn't question that things would improve. He had to believe it. He had to buy into it. There was no other option for him than to have growth and progress for the sake of their pack and their families. They were not both fathers, not in the truest sense, but Stark had been there since only a few days after Tambourine's birth and he had taken up a mantle that he'd never asked for. 

"We'll be smarter for this winter...store even more. The pack barely had a chance to get things together before the famine hit. It's a wonder we didn't lose more people." He said quietly. That had been something he had anticipated but had passionately fought against. He couldn't do everything for everyone no matter how much he'd run himself ragged. "I don't think I've ever been so happy about a rainstorm." He mused with a small smile - it just meant that they would have more plants growing and feed the ones already trying so hard to recover. 

lmao... also omg i am so tired. working half my scheduled hours for a week in two days was insane. and i still have two more days to get through. @___@

It was a wonder that the Keep was still standing given the way summer had gone. Even with Warbone absent from its helm, it seemed to be swimming along just fine. It was a small comfort to know that at least here, they were away and safe from the cougar, and with a much larger pack at their back they had better chances for food. Contested food, no doubt, but at that point any morsel was a morsel more than they would have potentially had out in the open wilderness.

Mordecai only made a noise in agreement to Stark's statement however—it was also good to see the rain. Whatever inclination he had to return to the Crook was ebbing away; it was too easy to listen to the rain patter across the otherwise dry earth. If it would push the greenery to come back in, then perhaps the herds would truly follow. Maybe then they'd be better off to feed themselves.

"Guess it's that time of year again," he said, daring a glance upward with his one working eye. "It always seems to get rainy all over at some point. Last year we had some pretty bad storms that came ashore," he added, though he did not remember exactly when such had happened. But he had seen the onslaught of such... and was also hit with a painful reminder that those discoveries had come along their journey to the Hollow.

For Stark the biggest bounty in his mind had come from the river. Thankfully the fish didn't seem to get the memo that they should have been starving and while they certainly weren't well fed they at least had something from the fish that they could catch. It made things easier on them than some of the other packs no doubt - ones with no water to sustain them. Stark's curiosity was piqued when Mordecai mentioned how the previous seasons things had been just as bad. Storms were welcome, now, for they heralded new growth. 

Destruction was an option, but it was a risk that Stark could only look forward to. "I'm hoping it won't get that bad...but maybe with the Crook we might be safer. It seems sturdy enough if things get too bad." He'd only seen a couple tornados and it had destroyed trees and brush - but their rocky home might be perfect to make them survive. "Was that in the pack you two lead? Or did I get some details wrong." It wouldn't be the first time, and he didn't mind being corrected. 

*wiggles into days off*

Mordecai too thought that the Crook would provide them natural shelter from any storm that could have dared to ravage them. He didn't voice such, but his head nodded in faint agreement as Stark mused. If anything, should they have all still been there come winter, he hoped that the cavern would provide them with natural warmth as well, though he could not offhandedly recall whether or not the Wilds had been through a bad winter. He had still prepared for it in the best way that he could, both when he had led the Spine, and again with the Hollow.

And naturally, their conversation turned towards the past.

"No, we were fortunate enough to avoid any permanent damage to our home," he said. Though when the worst of such weather came, Harlyn and he had not resided there. While some parts of their past were laid bare, Mordecai skirted the memory in regards to that. It was simpler to think that they had been at the Hollow then, rather than about to sever their ties with the Plateau that had housed them. There were untold what-ifs in that memory den he did not wish to entertain.

"Other places were not so lucky, from what I remember. Total destruction, wildfires, and so on. You can't really tell that something happened through those areas now, at least. Probably can't tell much at all with the way things look now." Maybe if one was high enough up they would have seen where forestry had been stripped clean and felled, but to them on the ground? It was simply background. He wondered for a moment though, if the barren valleys and meadows would show with all the foliage yet to fully return. He wondered how the Hollow looked and shook his head dismissively.

For Stark this was the worst natural disaster he'd endured. It wasn't the same as squabbling over land or resources. Those petty disagreements were nothing compared to the way they had to work to just make it day to day. Stark couldn't fathom dealing with it as Harlyn and Mordecai had - with three little children along for the ride. Hell, he had been playing surrogate to Tambourine and it was hard enough with just one. 

Stark nodded, listening as the male spoke. Apparently it had been an issue for some of the lands, but nothing that Stark had seen had showing to still recovering. Everything was dead as it was, at least until the past couple weeks, so any evidence would be long gone. "I'm eager to see everything once it blooms again. The lands just sort of....blended, with everything gone like this." Stark said evenly. "The place I was born was different - one of those sorts of pleasant lands, trees, open plains. I didn't have much experience with mountains until I struck out on my own." He admitted. 

"The Crook is still strange to me. I spent a couple seasons on my own mostly, and being crammed together is unsettling sometimes." It was one of the things that hadn't really grown on him, but, maybe with winter it would be a benefit and not just an oddity.

Well, that was at least one thing that they had in common. Technically two things, as Mordecai had both travelled and did not entirely care for being crammed into one locale with so many other bodies. Sure, there were little niches and nooks to fill, but there were times when he simply wished that he could have been with his own kin, rather than the extended kin they had been brought into. It was a need for privacy, perhaps above all else.

Still, he couldn't help but give a humored huff at the statement.

"I've seen a lot over the years. Where I grew up was very dry. Desert country," and funny enough, he did not add, how now he preferred the seasons and rolling hills and deep valleys. The greenery was so much more pleasant than the scrub and brush that grew. But there were times when he longed for those vistas, too.

It was funny now, he had not considered the possibility a couple of years ago that he would ever find himself settling down. Yet it had happened for better or for worse and as time passed, he found he did not care to venture far at all himself. There was always so much to do and having children, well, it complicated any notion he had about wandering too far. The guilt he felt over having left them even to try and seek out a herd some weeks back was still raw.

"Guess all of this just grows on you, eventually."

He would have melted out in all that heat. Or more aptly, burned up into ashes and dust and just floated off on the wind. With his dark coat he would have been made quick work by the environment and that would have been miserable. Stark was at least getting more comfortable with the male, and even if they didn't know each other that well - this was miles better than before. He needed to get more comfortable with the other wolves of the pack. "Something like that." Stark said with an easy laugh. "Or maybe it's getting that way. It's still weird thinking of staying anywhere." 

Any other time Stark might have turned away, ran until his paws got tired only to get up and do it again. Resources, the little Tambourine - Octavia, well, he found himself finding more and more reasons to stay where he was and that was so strange and new to him. Stark looked over at Mordecai, offering him a little smile. "When this all blows over y'wanna go see about catching something for dinner?" He was hopeful and maybe he could give something to all the kids. 

thought we could wrap this soon for the current plotties!

"I suppose we could try and see what we could scare up," Mordecai answered with a bob of his head. Things were hardly back to normal, but that didn't mean they wouldn't have been able to find something. There were the streams, rodents; surely something that would have made for a dinner however meager. But at least it seemed the worst of the famine was coming to pass. So long as the herds returned, they would manage.

Until then, it seemed it would be a waiting game.