Herbalists' Cache it was his last day on the force

forward-dated a couple days, tag for visibility

He wanders a bit away from @Korei Julia — never too far to hear her call, but far enough that he feels alone. He needs it, at least a little bit, even if he's more or less defeated the purpose of leaving the pack by taking her with him. There are so many thoughts in his mind, each wrestling desperately for the spotlight —
Most of all, irrationally, he thinks that he misses Broken Boulder. Or at least, what it had represented. A new start, a fresh beginning with friends and a lover and all the optimism in the world until things had come crashing down. He misses Lennon, and Lily, and Xahi — he misses the giant split boulder, the way the sun reflects off the creek in the evenings — he misses Paradise Garden.
He misses his siblings.
He plops down without warning among the foliage, at once feeling rather dejected, and wonders how he'll manage another new beginning. Perhaps he has no room for new memories — perhaps he's used all his chances, and now he can only drown in the ghosts of all the pain he's created.

He stood somewhere in the distance, staring at the golden form that laid upon the earth like a fallen god. His head did not ache as much as it used to and yet...he struggled to recall why they looked so familiar. Why there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that was warm.

His large shaggy form approached the gold-kissed male slowly. Each step was careful and precise. He wanted to be close enough to be seen but he did not want to intrude. When he felt that he was within eyeshot he let out a low woof to announce his presence — if he had not already been noticed.

He's oblivious to the presence until the other wolf is far too close for comfort, but the measured way in which the stranger approaches keeps him from truly startling. He fluffs up a little nonetheless when he finally notices the other, registering the familiarity of the scent a moment before he glances up just in time to hear the woof. It's —
Outlander? Not looking super pissed off? Truth be told, Alarian wouldn't have thought him the type to let go of grudges quickly — but he's too used to being wrong to be very surprised. His gaze flits over the other male's figure, noting the thinness to his form, his unkempt coat. Even through the alarm and bewilderment, concern spikes through him, though he doesn't rise yet. Are you — what happened?

It was like hearing his name breathed life into him. He tested the waters of the stranger by moving forward another few tentative steps. The look on his face was cautious. He knew them and yet the name felt heavy on his tongue and seemed to crawl into the back of his throat. He did not speak, not until a concerned question fell from their lips.

I don't know. He answered honestly, his voice hoarse and devoid of the mellow deepness it once carried. I wish I knew. The shaggy male mused aloud as his gaze roamed over the gold-kissed male. There were memories soaked into that lean frame and the name of the male seemed to creep up his throat before it breathlessly escaped him.

Alarian.

The recognition in his face is too flickering, too uncertain for Alarian's comfort; what terrible fate had befallen the male, to leave him questioning his own recollection? He wonders if their last meeting has been forgotten — how convenient for him. It feels twisted to think about it that way, though. He swallows hard as he listens to Outlander's admission, ears pinning back slightly. Yet, his expression brightens by fractions to hear his own name; a small comfort, at least.
He rises slowly, uncertainty written into his own posture and expression. I'm sorry, He says, brows drawn in a sympathetic frown. What is he supposed to do, here? Unbidden, several images spring to the front of his mind — Outlander framed by the foliage of the Bracken Woods, the way the sunlight had dappled the ground, Delight's face emerging from between the trees. He hesitates. Do you — need help, or anything? God, he hates himself.

For some reason, the apology sits uncomfortably within his mind. Why is he sorry? Why? Outlander had always — pre and post injury — needed to know things. Suddenly not knowing anything aggravated him to the core, even if he hid it. He merely bit his tongue and nodded his head, accepting things for what they were.

Help might be nice. He admitted with a soft shrug of his shoulders. I don't have anywhere to go and don't have access to a healer. Doesn't make recovering easy. His voice grew soft and his eyes stared at the ground between them. He sounded pathetic, absolutely pathetic.

His chest aches with sympathy at Outlander's response, and he takes a step forward before he realizes what he's doing. He hesitates for a beat — but what's the worst that could happen, really? So, still a little hesitant, he presses his nose gently to Outlander's shoulder if the touch is allowed. It's a brief gesture, but he hopes it helps a little.
I'm a medic, He tells him as he pulls away, tail swishing. It's nice to feel useful for once, actually. Herbs are a little more limited now, with the cold weather, but I can help you. I also um — I have a traveling companion. My friend Korei Julia. She's really nice — she'll probably like you.

He accepted the touch, although that was all he did. He did not lean into the male or even return the touch in another form. Granted he can't deny the comfort that comes from the touch.

Oh. He's a medic. Outlander almost felt like he should have known that but he didn't know much of anything anymore. For the time being at least. Things seemed to come back slowly, like he was collecting breadcrumbs of everything that had happened before his re-arrival to Teekons.

Thank you. He mumbled softly. What's she like? He asked with a touch of curiosity. Nice was a good adjective but it didn't give him much to work with. Most importantly, would she mind him crashing into the duo?

What's she like, he asks, and Alarian finds himself pausing over the question. Korei has been something of a mystery to him lately; once, he'd have described the sweet girl as naive, dependent to a fault, often oblivious to the world around her. Sometimes these things still ring true, but recently he's seen a new side of her — a side that seems to understand some things even the most intelligent wolves he's met have failed to grasp. A side fierce enough to insist that she follow him, even when it meant abandoning safety and a home. And honestly, it makes him think he doesn't know Korei as well as he'd assumed.
She's easygoing, He settles on after a few beats, knowing that, at least, to be true. A little shy, but she gets along with most everyone. She's been a loyal friend for a long time, and she's always trusted my decisions. Probably a bad idea on her part, but he finds the support invaluable — and it'll make integrating Outlander as part of their group easier, for sure. Do you want to meet her?

Before he could even ask, Alarian has taken the words right from his mind and out of his mouth. Please. He answered softly with a gentle nod of his head. He wanted to get meetings right out of the way if he could. Then he could get back to his normal self. Or at least get back onto the track of normalcy.

Is she nearby or should we go find her? He asked in a hushed tone as he pain in his head started to flair a bit more. Maybe if he just ignored it it would eventually putter back out to an unnoticeable thing. Outlander heavily doubted he was that lucky though.

He's glad Outlander seems eager for introductions, offering a tentative smile as he gestures in the direction he'd last seen Korei. Come on, I'll take you to her, He says, turning to lead the way. If all goes well, maybe this will prove to be some kind of strange second chance at the trio that had crumbled a year ago — a chance to make the ending a good one, this time.
Or it'll all fall to pieces again, and this time he won't pick himself back up.