Twisted Slough Into terror, into valor

@Screech

This time Gannet went west. It wasn't a direction he often took, but because of this, it seemed the most interesting! He thought a bit about inviting Jarilo and making good on his offer, but something kept him from doing it. Playing with the new Moonspear pups had been fun, but it was a bittersweet feeling. He knew that no matter how hard he worked, or how much he wished it, deep down he'd never be one of the mountain like they were. Generally, this didn't bother the light-hearted boy, but today, it urged him to take this run solo.

When he hit the river, however, he was forced to backtrack, heading all the way north to go around the monstrosity. Just the thought of being in the water sent an icy clutch of panic into his core, and the nightmares and events were to recent for that. Ever since his near drowning he had nursed a healthy fear of quick-running water, and it was a fear that likely wouldn't leave anytime soon.

This route brought him along the coast, but amongst an array of large stones he stopped, staring at them curiously. They weren't mountains, or hills, and their shape was bizarre. He wound among them, momentarily content in wondering how they came to be and why they were there.

I keep forgetting about this. Bumpin' so its right after his thread with Niamh!! Tagging for the mention.

Screech felt terrible after his encounter with the golden girl, and couldn't stop a small wave of depression from sinking in to him. He had yet another name to strike off his decidedly short list of allies — and he also found himself yearning for the companionship of his friend @Redshank - maybe he'd had the right idea in fleeing the plateau? Screech hadn't ventured far from the lake since his family had abruptly arrived and usurped his would-be rule, and now he found himself roaming further north, eager to put some space between himself and his problems — chiefly driven by his encounter with Niamh, and the failure and confusion he felt about all that mess.

He didn't want anyone to think he was leaving leaving, as in, for real, but at the same time couldn't face anyone to tell them of his departure. Let them think what they will, he surmised. They'd judge him either way, and right now Screech needed some time alone. As he went north however, he'd forgotten about the muddy, silt-heavy slough between himself and the pristine beachfront and was soon marooned in it. The mire swept all around him, and no matter where he stepped he seemed to sink in to muck.

Great. Just what he needed.

There was another here. At first Gannet didn't realize it, he was so caught looking up. But the sound of another squelching in the terrain reached his ears, and he snapped to it, catching sight of Screech presumably before the other noticed him.

Immediate recognition spawned a reaction, and he barked an enthusiastic greeting. Holy shit!! Awkwardly due to the muck they stood in and his off-kilter gait, he made to bound towards his brother. What was he doing here!?!?!?

If he made a wrong move, it was possible to step in to the slick muck and get suctioned down for good - or that's what it felt like. He imagined it would be like stepping in to quicksand; the more he struggled, the worse he'd feel.

But it didn't last that long. The mud wasn't even that bad, really, just wet and cold and everywhere. 

Then, as he struggled to find solid ground, a voice broke through the still spring air — one he hadn't heard in a long time. Along with it came a faint scent that he vaguely recognized; a part of him detected a note in that aroma that made his fur stand on-end down his back.

Moonspear.

Screech turned and pulled himself from the bog with a splash and a squelch, and after a few stomping steps, wheeled around to see Gannet. What?

It was slow going, but eventually, he got close. The sight of Titmouse's face took him aback only an instant... it was still his brother, scars or no. "You're here!" he exclaimed, though it meant to be a question. Why was he here? How was he here? So much time had passed since he'd left, but Gannet was glad to see he'd gotten away and was (mostly) okay.

He wanted to glomp him, but remained back... mainly because Tit looked super confused, and Gannet didn't want to chase him off.

I totally meant to write Moonspear and my fingers didn't agree, I'm editing above in a second, lmfao.

Confused was right. He stared at this pale wolf and couldn't quite make out who it was; his eye said Gannet, his nose said Moonspear, and a part of him kept seeing the image of that pale girl from the mountainside as she careened for the borders — then sat there, lifeless, as he ran.

But his ears heard the stranger's voice, and it was enough to at least keep Screech from losing his mind entirely; he pushed thoughts of the Moonspear wolves out of his mind as best he could, and got a little closer just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Gannet seemed just as surprised as Screech — where had he come from? Why did he smell like those evil bitch sisters?

You joined them? He blurted emptily, coming to this conclusion at the same time as he spoke it. It was the only reason he'd carry their scent and still be left without any mutilation. But that didn't make sense — Gannet had been there that day, hadn't he? Or was that just something Screech had invented? He shook his head, incredulous (that Gannet was here, and that he supported those lunatics). I don't believe this.

His brother seemed less enthusiastic, and Gannet's posture dropped some, becoming slightly more tentative.  Was something wrong?  He'd assumed his family would be as happy to see him as he was, but that didn't seem to be the case.  Gannet frowned curiously at Titmouse's question.  He'd joined them?  Of course he had.  But that was right... he didn't know.  He'd gone by the time everything happened.

"I saw you, and I tried.  But they caught me, and stopped me.  And then they let me stay."  It was about the shortest and least descriptive way of saying it, but it was exactly what happened.  He looked down, then back tentatively.  "I'm glad you ran."  He added, a confession.  He didn't argue with Hydra on it any longer... it was pointless, he knew, since she was still convinced he was guilty.  But Gannet knew that, had he stayed, they would have killed him.  And he was glad that his brother had gotten away and was here standing now, even if he did seem somewhat less than happy to be there.

The explanation was short, sweet, and senseless. He didn't need details to have a fast opinion on the subject. If Gannet had been there that day he would have seen the whole thing; yet still somehow, he had been made a victim. If the wolves of Moonspear weren't so quick to jump to conclusions and accusations then - well, what's done is done. Thinking about it too hard would just lead Screech down a path he didn't want to return to.

He listens in silence as if he's not quite sure what to make of the sounds coming from Gannet's mouth; like he could be hallucinating a ghost or something. Eventually he scoffs - Oh yeah sure, I'm glad I ran too since staying would've meant being dead and all. They caught up with me eventually though. He didn't need to mention what they'd done to him at that point as he carried their mark with him every day. But he did add, Does Towhee know? Does everyone? That you left us to be one of them?

Screech stepped back and the bog sloshed around him, but he didn't care about the murkwater soaking in to his fur at this point, he was too focused on making sense of this apparition.

and suddenly this thread is one of Gannet's most recent now <3

Gannet's face fell as Screech remained unreceptive, going so far as to step back. Had he done something wrong? Then it clarified the instant he brought up Towhee. Oh. He was upset for the same reason... because Gannet had chosen to stay vs return.

"They know. I was stuck. Hurt. They helped and let me stay." He tried to explain, but he knew it wasn't the right words, and it frustrated him that he couldn't find them. But now there was something more.... something he needed to ask, because when he thought it, his stomach dropped a bit. "Did they do that?" He looked pointedly at Screech's face, and tentatively took a step forward. He had a hard time computing it - Gannet had never known the anger that came with needing revenge. Even when Peter had been killed, his only thought had been protecting his home, never hunting the killer. He didn't understand but he guessed, from the way his brother spoke, that it was so.

Screech held firm to his position while he listened to the other wolf speak, but he had to resist the urge to take another step back when Gannet tried to close the distance; it didn't compute with him that the Redhawks would allow one of their family members to be held captive, held for medical care, or whatever. They had a perfectly capable healer in their ranks — so that didn't really fly with him. All the same, once the conversation turned back to Screech and his messed up face, he could tell that Gannet was honest in his ignorance when it came to the Moonspear wolves.

The silver boy couldn't stop his gaze from narrowing. Who the fuck else would hunt me down and rip my face open? That what a rhetorical question, obviously. The followup: They forbade me from ever going home; they said if I was ever caught near the Caldera, they'd gut me. I went north but apparently not far enough, because the three bitchass sisters found me. He'd never be over it. The trauma was one thing, the ego-smashing beatdown by three stupid girls was another, and being constantly reminded only made things worse.

He couldn't help but bare his fangs at the memory — but he hid his fangs after a second, clearly not intending Gannet any harm (or so he thought). I had to keep running so I've been living to the west, at a plateau. At least I was, until everyone showed up and took it from me — but what do you care? He watched Gannet again, sharp-tongued as always, you smell like them. Are they your family now?

Gannet knew what the Moonspear wolves thought, and that their views of Screech and the other Redhawks wildly differed from Gannet's own. When he had joined them, it had been with the understanding that the decision was his.... he'd assumed that being a part of them, and separate from his birth family, would mean they kept away from them and conflict wouldn't occur. Maybe that was naive, but it was what he had expected.

Hearing that they had tracked Screech down, attacking him well away from the mountain (and not in defense of it) struck Gannet in the hollow of his gut, and it showed clearly.

"Why would they care about the Caldera?" He asked quietly, frowning. Why would they mind if he went home.... it wasn't their home? The news that his family was alive and well.... simply moved.... was glad indeed! But it was overshadowed by a sick sort of feeling that Gannet couldn't put a paw on.

"Yeah." They were, sorta. He didn't know if they viewed him as family, though, especially after this conversation. "They are." He looked down. "They didn't want me back. Not really. Hydra did." They hadn't come for him, not until he was already healed, and by that time it was too late. He'd promised to stay. He didn't regret his decision, but seeing Screech's face, and knowing Hydra had done that to his brother, had him shaken.

That.. Didn't make sense at all. What happened to convince Gannet that his own family wouldn't want him? Screech wanted to be offended by the accusation but he didn't have enough information (which didn't usually stop him), and he felt a weird kinship with the abandoned boy. Screech felt abandoned too — hell, even with the rest of his family around him nowadays, he still felt like they didn't want him at all. Like they'd developed some kind of adaptation for his absence that meant reintegration was impossible, or something. Maybe not in those... grand terms.

That doesn't— he started, but then stopped and stared at the mire around him, sighing and trying to collect his thoughts so he didn't fly off the handle. The thought of Hydra wanting anyone made his skin crawl. I don't know what happened with you and the rest of the family, but you're a Redhawk, not a — whatever the fuck those girls are, those mountain people are. You can't just — just let them take you away from us. It doesn't matter what people say, you're a Redhawk and always will be, and you can't let them turn you in to something less than that. He was partly talking out of his ass but he had conviction, so that helped.

If only he could take his own damn advice.

If you get sick of their bullshit, you can always leave them. Towhee and the rest — and me — we're all west of here at a plateau. You can come home whenever you want. Although it seemed like Gannet had made up his mind, and he was set on keeping his word, which was much more than Screech could ever do.

Gannet listened, allowing Screech to finish and pausing to ensure he had said all he needed to say. Really, he used the time to get his own thoughts in order too. Which... they did. And when they clicked, he felt sure, though that icy feeling still twinged uncomfortably. Gannet was so rarely angry, he'd honestly forgotten what it felt like.

"They won't," he said simply, and when his head lifted, there was for the first time almost something challenging in it. He wasn't a fighter... omega was his natural form and it was where he thrived, a creature of peace and compromise. But he was a Redhawk, and he was proud of that name and the parents who gave it to him. The mountain could do a good many things, but they'd never take that. He just did not believe he needed to live with the Blackthorns to be a Redhawk. His family was gone... only memories now.

"I promised.... Moonspear is home. But" he stopped a second, unsure how to say it. "I'm glad you're with them. And that they're there." It had been horrible finding them gone and assuming the worst. He hoped that Screech could find the home there that he hadn't been able to.

If Screech had any trust in his family, it was thoroughly shaken now that he'd encountered Gannet. If someone like him could be cast aside so easily, abandoned to the crazies at Mount Moon Piss, then his own fears were easily justified. The conversation he'd had with Quixote was still fresh on his mind and it seemed particularly relevant now; Screech found himself doubting the very words he'd just spoken to Gannet.

On one hand, sure, they'd probably welcome Gannet back in no time if he needed it. But what about him? Screech was hanging on to his plateau even though it wasn't his plateau, he was trying to make nice with his siblings but ignored half his family, and if they ever wanted him out — really and truly — he'd be out for life. They barely wanted him now, for fuck's sakes.

I'm glad you're with them. And that they're there, Gannet added with some finality, and Screech could at least glean some sort of end to the conversation from that social cue. He didn't want to leave Gannet here, but the boy had chosen his path and there was no way the Redhawk could follow — those sisters would have his hide. It was nice to see you again, Screech murmured, fully sincere. I'll — I'll talk to Towhee, tell her you're doing good.

He hadn't necessarily meant to bring things to a close, but as usual, conversation wasn't a strong point. So he just nodded when Screech agreed to talk to Towhee, say hello. He wasn't sure if she would care or not - their last meeting had made it hard to judge. But he appreciated Screech making the gesture.

He moved forward and, if Screech would allow, bumped his nose against his brother's cheek. "They were wrong. I know." He said. There was no way he could know for sure, of course, what had happened. But he knew Screech was no idiot, nor a senseless killer. And he wanted to make sure Screech knew he knew it, before they parted. That he was glad they had run into each other, and would always be glad, no matter who he might choose to run with now.

Gannet gave him support, and that was something he didn't expect after all that he'd said and all they'd both been through. Not even his littermates gave him that — the benefit of the doubt — although Towhee tried to, he couldn't shake the feeling she was just trying to make life on the plateau easier. A part of him would always doubt his siblings, just as they doubted him. But not Gannet; even while he pledged himself to the enemy, he was on Screech's side. That had to count for something.

Screech felt a nervous little smile creep across his face, but he returned the affection - briefly - with a touch of his nose to his brother's scruff, and then turned and headed back through the bog towards home.