Moonspear redemption interlude [bwp]

Weather: 18°F, Snow (3–7 in.) starting overnight and windy in the afternoon.
Winter storm warning!

A heavy storm had prevented Dune from getting back as soon as he hoped. Thankfully, it was still before the sun had set when he finally made it to Moonpear's borders, tromping through the snow and sporting his new collar. He had decided that he was chosen, for some reason, to carry this burden. Why he was chosen, he could not say. But something about it seemed Important.

Finally making his way to the rendezvous site, Dune let himself flop to the icy cold ground, tired from fighting the wind, snow, and elements that he had battled on his way home. He scratched at the collar, but he had long since given up on removing it. Now it felt more like a privilege than a nuisance.

The day had started off so promising. Overcast in general but for a change nary a flurry had been cast from on high—it may have been a redeeming factor for the disdain this long winter had been putting on Dirge. Snow he was no stranger to, but the season seemed bitter and vengeful, at least if such things could be. Yet by afternoon the winds had shifted and the skies had opened; the snow had yet to stop and seemed to have little sign of slowing. It was an irritant though he knew to be grateful as things could have been worse. At least in the confines of Moonspear's territory, there was shelter to be had if he chose it.

Still these thoughts were of little comfort, and already he felt the silence of the wintry landscape weigh down on him like a hefty blanket. His thoughts, even so far as to say his desires, were deafening, maddening. Feeling quite the caged animal and out of sorts, he had thought to seek out @Hydra for distraction when another sort snared his attention all sprawled in gathering snows.

Recognition locked in faster than his ability to recall a name of the newest face in their crowd, but their paths had crossed briefly. He was't Hydra but he was someone and for lack of better things to do he shaved distance between them with careful, quiet steps; if Dune was asleep then he wouldn't bother. No sense in waking, let sleeping dogs lie, so on and so forth.

All of that went out the window to still him rather quick when he laid eyes on the collar. It was the scent that came first, of a dank leather so out of place to all else to account for. There was something else he couldn't quite place, but the instinctive curl of his lips and bubbling growl spoke his unease where no words could.

been waiting for this haha & tag is for visibility... sorry i rambled. >_<

Others are still welcome. ^__^

Dune was zoning out when Dirge approached, and he was rather confused by the way in which he was approached. The two had met, if only briefly for an exchange of names, but Dune could not remember there being any hostility between them during that encounter. Perhaps there was something he was missing, but Dune did not know what it was, nor did he know how to fix the situation. So instead of trying to fix it, Dune merely rolled belly-up, hoping to appease the higher-ranking wolf.

Maybe Dirge thought he was out to claim his rank (which wasn't entirely untrue, but Dune had wanted to get settled in first and prove himself through hunting and guarding). Whatever the case, Dune clearly wanted no fight, and he whimpered and whined in an attempt to clarify this to the growling and rather domineering Dirge. It was when he was on his back, and the collar pushed into his neck, that Dune realized that it might be the cause of this display. Was Dirge jealous that he had not been chosen to wear it? He could not know, at least not right now, for he did not want to risk provoking the wolf further.

((Quickie intro - gahnay needs more friends))

The sound of roaring the other day had brought him to gaze curiously out, but unfortunately, his limited mobility had prevented him from finding the source. Still, it ignited his curiosity, and he wondered what manner of beast could cause such a racket.

Completely unaware of the connection, when Gannet saw Dune in the distance, he approached, feeling the need for company. Another packmate was there, staring, and when Gannet saw the subject, he stared too. His head tilted sideways with confusion. What was it? Did it hurt? He moved tentatively forward to take a sniff, keeping low. Dune was higher on the totem pole than he; he didn't want to offend. Just to look and discover.

His grumbling and growling was cut short when another joined them and his focus shifted to Gannet swiftly. It was the first he had seen of the fellow since the fiasco on the borders, though his thoughts hardly trickled in that direction. All attention returned and rested on what Dune was sporting and Dirge watched the leery, limping approach than go himself.

"What is it?" he pressed, as though he could somehow live vicariously through Gannet's perspective. His voice held onto what thin wisps of authority he could muster over the unease. There was little to damper it, but curiosity was apt to get the better of him too.

Gannet drew close, and even though Dune was technically above him on the totem pole, he did not wish to startle him (and especially not Dirge), so he remained on his back, belly up and tail tucked. It was not Gannet who spoke, though. Dirge was the one to ask the question, although Dune was not quite sure who it was being directed at. He let out a small whine, nervous feelings creeping into his chest. Dune had been so sure that this was a good thing, and he was still sure, but how could he explain that to the others?

"Gift, I think," he said meekly. He had been chosen, had he not? This was some sort of test, some sort of trial, and Dune was bound and determined to pass it with flying colors. He yearned for acceptance, for approval, and he had a good feeling this device was all part of some grand scheme.

Hydra had been heading toward the borders when, to her fortune, the wind informed her of Gannet and Dirge's proximity. She quickened her pace and when she noted a third was among them, on the ground, the quickness in which the distance was closed seemed like a blink of an eye. Confidently she moved onto the scene where she noted Dune was on the ground, submitting completely. She did not question the two longer-standing packmates, she was certain there was a reason—

When she saw for herself.

The furs along her nape prickled. Your throat, Hydra looked to him. It was the most vulnerable thing upon a wolf, other than their stomach. It's trapped! Hydra closed the distance but was unaggressive in her movements. She, too, wanted to investigate the scents upon it. Who was killing Dune? Was he dying? It seemed like he was in stable enough condition... but her nose would suss out the details. It knew illness.

A gift? It didn't look like a very good one if it was; it wasn't edible, nor did it seem comfortable. Gannet's expression clearly showed his skepticism, and he took a step back as now Hydra barreled in to see it. If this was a gift, he hoped Dune would be the only recipient.

"Why?" He asked, wondering how and when it had been given. Maybe if Dune has done something, Gannet could just avoid doing it, and then he wouldn't have something strange around his neck.

Hydra joined them next, braver yet to investigate this strange turn of events. Dirge took a tentative couple of steps forward as she spoke, almost affirming his thoughts. The collar was secured well around Dune's neck but with no solid ideas as to what it was or why... Dirge's brow furrowed as a frown set on his face.

"Hardly what I would call a gift," he said in a low voice. If Dune's neck was trapped in it, who knew what else it could do? "Where did you find it, Dune?" Better yet, if it was a gift then who had given it to him? But that question he kept onto, instead wanting to know where to avoid.

Hydra appeared (as she seemed to do often), and told him he was trapped. That was not untrue, considering he felt trapped with all these wolves hovering around him and drilling him about something he knew very little about. Gannet asked why, and Dirge wanted to know where he'd found it. This was all becoming a bit much, and Dune's heart began beating a bit more quickly than it had been before. He was not sure who to answer first, so he said nothing, whimpering and looking wide-eyed and scared at all three of the wolves who crowded around him.

This was his gift, yes, but he had not asked for it. He had not wished for it. And all he wanted right now was to be away from the scrutiny of the three wolves who seemed to think he was a threat.

Hydra sensed his anxiety though was not given pause due to the nature of the situation. The others inquiries she knew were made due to just concern, but Hydra threw them a sharp look to let them know she'd handle it from here. It softened, though, and her face shifted to one that somehow conveyed her appreciation for their being here for their packmate. A lot was going on for Dune right now; between these scents and his throat being trapped both, she could see how he would be overwhelmed. 

She looked back to Dune, taking a step away. It was not done out of fear but rather to give him some space. You're not dying? She asked. He didn't smell like death, but he smelled... something. It was peculiar, though she could not put her name on it—it was something she had not ever been exposed to thus far in her life.

His question was immediately followed by Dirges, but Gannet didn't mind. Anything he asked he never was upset to not get an answer; especially because he saw how uncomfortable Dune had grown.

Sensing Hydra's intention and claim on taking point, Gannet backed up, sitting a short distance away to simply listen rather than crowd. He stretched out his legs and laid down, placing his head on his paws as he watched them continue to inspect Dune's new 'gift'.

((Feel free to skip him!))

Hydra voiced a question into the crisp air and for a moment a sense or morbidity overcame him. Yet, he thought. Given the track record of the denizens of Moonspear it seemed the stranger the quality the higher the odds, but one instance was hardly the baseline. Dune didn't seem interested in supplying answers so much as he did wanting to alleviate what had become an uncomfortable situation; Gannet, however, briefly earned Dirge's attention as he sought to survey from a better place. He almost missed the sharpened expression of Hydra, but it was not quite a deterrent with their mystery.

Stepping in cautiously, his focus returned to the collar with renewed unease. It didn't seem overly ornate by any means but it was foreign enough that he couldn't quite decide how it had ended up on Dune in the first place. He appealed to Hydra in a brief look, ears turning back as though the very gesture would pull the veil off her gathering thoughts.

"Does it look like it will come off?" Or fall off maybe, like a bizarre growth that had come about in the overnight unexplained. He wasn't brazen enough to dare coming closer, halfway wondering if he did that he'd magically start sporting one too—nevermind none of the others had. At least not yet.

Hydra and Gannet stepped back, which put Dune more at ease. He still was not sure why everybody was making such a fuss about it. Perhaps if he could have seen it, he would have felt differently. With the way it was wrapped around his neck, he couldn't even catch a glimpse of it. It was weighty, but not uncomfortably so. It occasionally itched, but beyond that, it seemed harmless. If anything, he had thought it was a token of... good luck? Maybe?

She asked if he was dying, and Dune shook his head, wondering why she thought that. He had made it back here from where he had been yesterday, had he not? Dirge seemed to remain suspicious, though Dune did not understand why. He was alive, well, and it was not as if he was trying to bother anybody with it. He shrugged at that question. In a way, Dune wanted to keep it. Somehow he did not feel that sentiment would go over well with the current crowd.

Eventually, after much fussing and questioning, Dune was let go, where he promptly scurried off to be alone, away from the questions and doubt and looks that he was getting.