Barrow Fields i am not your carpet ride, i am the sky

marmots. 

she remembered hunting them what seemed hundreds of years ago, back in saltwinter. and she remembered they had been in members aplenty here, likely because for some strange reason, the fields were rarely tread by predators.

except, of course, caiaphas.

she bent down and placed her ear along the thin, crisp layer of ice-filmed snow -- and beneath the groan and the shift of the earth she heard the chattering, burrowing sound of life. the snow was too thin to house many tunnels, but following her nose she caught a fresh scent before too long.

listening intently, caiaphas alternated between listening and plunging -- and before long, the sylph had a small pile (mostly juveniles) of dispatched rodents ready for ankyra's growing cache.

He moved casually across the wilds, knowing his purpose but unhurried to greet it— Mwe searched for a home, but the details were vague. He didn't know where or when it might be, nor did he really give much thought to his expectations of what it might be. And so he continued on his journey, purposeful but without true direction. It would all fall into place in time, and Mwe was nothing if not patient.

When his wandering brought him close enough to spot a wolf in the distance, still and then plunging, still and then plunging, over and over— the clear antics of a hunter— Mwe kept moving and kept his distance. He was not hungry, and had no desire for a conflict over resources nor infringe upon anyone's hunt, loner or otherwise.

it was not every day that company came by and respectfully kept its distance; caiaphas looked up from the shelf of ice and snow in time to see a male pass across the barrow's lonely field. she paused from her work and watched him, ears tilted forward in quiet interest. he looked assured - and for a second she thought he looked as if he had a destination - and yet, from the impact of each of his paws it seemed he was simply waiting for time to gather its sails, trusting the wind to be his kismet.

intriguing - caiaphas placed one paw in front of the other and pulled herself out from the snow-encrusted hollow her body had carved. standing protectively in front of her stockpile (even though he had given her no reason to suspect he was interested in it), caiaphas sniffed the air between them with a haughty breath and spoke. "you from drageda?"

He paused when he noticed her approach, allowing her to close the distance between them and assert herself before her cache. She was lean and carved, more coyote than wolf— but somehow, he could concede that she was no less beautiful for it. Mwe diverted his gaze from her face as she neared, though he remained otherwise relaxed and unperturbed by her haughty exhale.

Mmm, he rumbled his denial, a slight shake of his head to emphasize the sound. His scent was his, and his alone— untamed as the wilds. What is Drageda?

if not for the fact his pelt remained unmarred by the scent of others, caiaphas might have doubted him -- yet at his answer, she visibly settled. the tail she had not realized had been climbing upwards went limp, and as the male looked away, she found herself recasting her gaze as well. he was a proudly made wolf, she decided - and he smelled purely of cold winter air and open wilderness. frankly, a hell of a better perfume to caiaphas than whatever scent a drageda member was packing.

feeling slightly less defensive, caiaphas issued her own quiet rumble -- one which could possibly be construed as approving. "hm. it is a pack." she motioned with a jerk of her slender head to the cliffs behind them. "lives on the cliffs. where are you going, then?"

He hadn't connected her tension with anything other than his presence, and he hadn't blamed her for that, either— but when she relaxed visibly at his denial of being from this Drageda, it was clear her mistrust had nothing to do with him specifically. A rival pack, or perhaps she was exiled. Either way, it was none of his business, and he did not press the matter or comment further— though he made a mental note of the information.

Mwe remained awkwardly quiet after her query, considering his answer— perhaps more seriously than the situation called for. To answer 'home' seemed unnecessarily dramatic, though it lay in the grey area between truth and a lie. It was what he longed for, truly, but he had no way of knowing where he might find it. He could only trust his instincts, and that he would find it in time. But that was perhaps a bit too involved for a brief meeting between strangers.

Finally, Nowhere. A shrug. Anywhere.

caiaphas believed, for a second anyway, that she had caught the man carefully considering an answer -- why? the length of time made suspicion instinctively stir in her belly. he could be lying, or scheming, or worse --

but then she reminded herself not to be hysteric. it was simply a loaded question for most wolves -- and honestly, wouldn't she give the question the same selective attention?

the male's answer - after so ponderous a study - was anticlimatic. she did not hide the sag of her shoulders or the flinty narrowing of her eyes. there wasn't much to go off of there - but he didn't smell of drageda, and even if he were somehow a doublecrosser, she suspected that was too clever a design for their kind. powerful warriors often were not powerful tacticians - and it would have taken weeks for them to bleed their scent dry of his fur.

she resigned herself to believing him genuine - at least until proven otherwise. "a helpful answer." she replied somewhat flippantly, though the edge fell from her tone the further she spoke. "i'm from the sound - it's back there. we're settling down for the winter. if you got nowhere to be.. and you help me carry this load back, you could turn that 'nowhere' into 'somewhere'. if it suited you." she supposed she should mention the irascible neighbors.

eh, at a later date.

Could the time be... now?

If Mwe had taken unnecessary time to consider and respond to a far simpler question, you can imagine that Mwe took his time with this far more serious question. He did not toss his loyalties about as if they weighed nothing, meant nothing— but it was winter, and she was not asking for his life's history. What was the harm of accepting the offer, then parting ways if the situation turned out not to be mutually beneficial? She was taking a leap of faith on him, and Mwe supposed he could do the same in return.

I am Mwe, he said simply. Perhaps he should have said something more or asked more questions— particularly of his new home, and after another long pause— but Mwe only moved toward the fresh pile of marmots and collected as many as he could in his jaws. He looked to her, waiting placidly for her to lead him to the sound.

had she been privvy to his thoughts, she might have informed mwe he was thinking, quite literally, of saltwinter -- the sound's prior (and failed) reiteration of pack-life. it had been a good dig while the dig was going - food came and went, the wolves went freely -- and then by summer, each had found their own corner of the world to haunt.

only, caiaphas kept coming back.

the male extended a name -- an important thing to give, caiaphas supposed.. and here she was , inviting a stranger to their home without even knowing so much as his moniker. she had done worse.. and would continue to do worse. "caiaphas. i'll show you where we keep those." the male had already -- graciously -- taken his share of marmots -- for a moment she felt a wild prickle down her side, as if worried he would gallop off with her children's meals.

he didn't (A+ THANK U). the raze of quill-like hackles on her back calmed. scooping what she too could carry, she trotted back towards ankyra - food and a recruit in tow.

Mwe followed dutifully, not knowing what to expect— it would be a shock to him when they finally reached the cliffside, the beach, the sea. To learn what Caiaphas had meant when she said The Sound, for he had never seen the ocean before. Never even heard of it! But until that moment, he was as a leaf in the wind, following the coywolf's lead and pondering with amusement that his life would lead him here, to join forces with a mixed breed and on such a whim.

Already, he felt a kinship to the coywolf. That was unexpected, too; but her way of communicating was familiar and instantly comfortable. Loyalties had yet to truly form, of course, and trust was tenuous between them at best— but this was the beginning of something, and he felt a shifting in his heart.

the agouti obliged -- and caiaphas might have been inclined to give him all sorts of orientation speeches, only her mouth was as stuffed to the brim as his -- meaning their entire travel was largely spent in silence.

not that she minded; by default, quiet was her favorite condition -- and if the male was as obliging as he seemed, the siren might find herself reluctantly admitting he was not a terrible addition to his roster, either. considering caiaphas was a miserable old oyster, that was not all a bad thing to be seen as in her eyes.

once they made it to the sound and disposed of the marmots burdening their mouths, caiaphas would show the stranger his new quarters -- and gladly introduce him to a (better) seafaring, picaroon lifestyle.