Heron Lake Plateau (futuristic space music)

Tags for ref, no obligation!

Unsurprisingly, since Qui was a dude, he was keenly aware of the possible disaster unfolding.  Okay, maybe not a disaster, but from his POV, it very well could be.  His entire goal was avoid the hell out of Towhee and Poe because that was the easiest thing for everyone -- hopefully every guy in the pack could do that, too.  Probably not.  He had to pay attention, because there were a few times where he found his steps wandering, away from what he was actually trying to do and he'd have to veer himself back the way he'd originally meant as soon as he'd realized what was happening.  Then when he'd go home he'd sit there trying to not be too obviously ogling @Raven until his head cleared.  It was also starting to make him a bit anxious about when her heat would arrive as well -- then again, maybe it was going to be soon and he just couldn't tell thanks to the distraction the others were providing.

The fact that he wasn't hiding behind Raven was possibly in a sense courting disaster, but someone of rank had to keep up the borders.  It probably wouldn't be a good idea for Towhee to do so and he hoped she wasn't, as that might attract more trouble.  Trouble.  Yeah.  He honestly didn't want to think about what the hell must be going on since it sure didn't seem like either of the women were taking the "hide away in seclusion" route.  Not that he could exactly argue, see last year.  Goddamn it, were they gonna have a plague of random pups?  If Towhee had pups, would they all be deaf too?  You know what, let's stop thinking about her.

He was supposed to be on patrol.  He was doing a pretty good job at staying on task right now.  Kinda.  His mind was trying to be annoying and run through a whole variety of worst case scenarios, but as long as he stuck to the avoid the hell out of people plan, it'd be fine.  Probably.  It didn't seem like this chunk of territory had been popular for the latest goings on, thank goodness.  At least it was easy enough to wander along and pee on things or scratch stuff without too much of his brain active.  Maybe he'd run into @Kite or @Owen or someone else safe.  Or not.  This was the Redhawks, so posting this thread in the first place means there's a high chance of stuff going horribly wrong instead.

I know our first thread isn't finished but I see no harm in playing as if it is, right?

Rye had to admit, the place he was starting to call home was really growing on him. He was cozy, happy and felt in place amongst the others. He'd met all kinds of characters during his stay, he was sure there was more to come considering there were pups about. Which Rye has yet to see a single one but he guess that was due to the fact he ventured out of the pack often and usually stuck around the lake or cache when he was within borders. So to say the least, yes, Rye was enjoying himself here and there wasn't much he could think of to ruin it for him. The male should have known all good things have commercials and today was one hell of an ad break.

Yes, it had been a rough day for Rye, getting thrown into Towhee, dealing with her and then getting into a fight over her too? Rye held his head low, grunting and mumbling profanities as he limped his way towards the border. He didn't want to be anywhere near the lake at this point because not only was Towhee in heat but Poe was too. Rye dreaded the thought of being around both, he learned his lesson in fighting for women he barely knew. The wound he earned from fighting for Towhee was still oozing blood but not as badly as before, a small steady stream of drips dropping from his matted fur. Matted with blood and saliva, more specifically Aillils saliva. Rye let out a low growl at the thought of the male, damn him. He didn't understand why that other male had to barge in and ruin his fun, he got there first after and did the - Oh shit Towhee could get pregnant. Ryes' eye shot open wide and his ears flatted back against his skull, he couldn't believe what he had done and just how fucked he was. 

Panic was rising in his mind, reaching critial overflooding levels, the kind that most often lead to him jumping ship. Though Rye knew he couldn't just do that, if they ended up being his he would have to step up right? That's what his mother told him to do but his mother wasn't here so what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her right? Rye whined, his panic slowly turning into a crisis in his mind as he thought about the Alpha and the seemingly endless possibilites for punishments he could recieve. Quixote would surely kill him, Rye just knew it. As the male was approching the border Rye spotted a familiar black silhouette walking towards him along the border. Rye couldn't make a mad dash into the woods or even weeds due to his flank, so instead Rye prayed he wouldn't die to the jaws of Quixote.

Owen had been glad to smell Poe's presence around the packlands here and there, and had had a vague idea that maybe at some point he should track her down and see how she was doing. He'd never quite gotten around to it, though; it hadn't seemed an immediate or urgent matter... until all of a sudden he found that it suddenly was much more so, out of nowhere. Something about the scent trails he'd been picking up more recently was bugging him extra-much, and making his feet restless and leaving his nose twitching and tingling. It was all very strange...especially when he happened across Towhee's scent trail and was left standing in confusion trying to sort out why he felt the need to check in on her all of a sudden as well. Surely her spirit guide/other half X could do that perfectly well, and his parents talked to her more regularly than him in the process of all that Important Pack Business... but Owen couldn't shake the feeling that he really ought to go find one or the other of them, like right now, and preferably maybe even both.

His usual ambling wanderings turned into a more-purposeful trot, lanced through with sudden fresh concern as he smelled intermixed now a bit of...blood?! Well crap, maybe there was some sort of psychic sense within him that was trying to tell him one of them was hurt and nudge him in that direction. Though if some sort of injury-alerting spirit was on the job, he had to admit that somewolf else like maybe his mom seemed a lot likelier of a candidate...but maybe the spirit was having trouble finding her for some reason. She did keep pretty busy some days after all. ...The wolf he ran into was neither Poe nor Towhee nor even Raven however but rather Quixote. Oh— hey Dad, he said, cresting the ridge and then halting in surprise. Uh—you haven't seen Poe, by chance, have you? ...Or Aunt Towhee?

Even as he was speaking, however, his gaze wandered past his father to the not-entirely-familiar male hovering a short distance further beyond Qui. The guy smelled enough like pack that Owen wasn't overly concerned about that part—besides which with his father on patrol hereabouts, any unwelcome intruders would surely already have been put on notice—but what caused his eyes to involuntarily widen was the sight and scent of the guy's injuries. At first Owen wildly wondered if he had been wrong after all about the stranger smelling sufficiently like his local packlands, if maybe Qui had been after him and was now planning to move in and finish the job— but as Owen cautiously took another several deep sniffs he realized his father's scent wasn't on the scruffy grey-and-brown male. Someone else was responsible for all the toothmarks and saliva and blood. Oh uh, h-hi there, he said, recalling enough of his manners to greet the dude at least even if he still couldn't help staring, his eyes tracing the zigzagged and matted fur and the bare patch on the shoulder with horror and fascination intermingled. Owen involuntarily took a step closer to his dad, lurking in Qui's shadow like the insecure wuss he was. What happened to him? he whispered to Quixote, but the words came out rather more loudly than Owen had quite intended. Whoops...had the guy heard that? Though really given the sorry state he looked to be in, and with whatever trouble he'd so recently gotten himself into, the other wolf shouldn't be very surprised if he evoked some gossip, here.

Yeah no problem!

There were a few scents drifting Quixote's way from Rye -- along with blood -- which did make the alpha a bit unhappy.  At the distance they were at he wasn't entirely sure but... Still.  He could make a few guesses, to varying degrees of awfulness.  Some really would result in him getting driven out of the pack, so for Rye's sake, it had better be the most lame of the bunch.  And then there was Owen, who though he was an adult in the ranks, still didn't have enough worldly experience to know what was going on.  And in all honesty Qui wasn't entirely ready for his kids to be adults -- time had gone by way too quick and Raven would probably be way better at the potential impending conversation than him.  It probably meant that she'd have to sit down with the girls and give them a similar talk, though.  No way he was opting in to that one unless he had to.

Now Quixote was sitting at the middle of a crossroads -- the collision point of two super awkward conversations and he was just the pinnacle of clearheaded and thoughtful right now.  Ooh boy.

Okay, time to break this down into manageable bites.  Shove any stray feelings in a box and deal with it later -- he needed rationality.  Step one, Owen was closest to him at this point, Hey, nope I haven't.  And you shouldn't for a little while either -- tell you why in a bit.  Still, he was glad to see his son.  Even if dear lord he didn't want to have that conversation.  Though Owen had been better at not going full on conspiracy theorist as of late, Qui would have to make sure he didn't end up making the boy think women were aliens or something.

Step two.  Rye, part one.  First, to Owen to answer his rather-too-loud aside, I'm not entirely sure.  But we'll sort it out.  Do you know what plants your mom uses for wounds?  We may need some of them, but I'll need a closer look first.  C'mon.  If he did, that'd be a great excuse to shoo him away for a few minutes if he had to.

Rye, part two.  Quixote walked forward, probably with Owen in tow.  He honed his attention in on Rye, though, wishing he could properly telepathically communicate so that he could keep Owen out of any particularly questionable parts, Rye. This is my son, Owen. I see you got into a fight? Eyebrow raise.  Hopefully Quixote made it obvious that he had an idea of what probably happened.  That he didn't need every detail -- and didn't need his son to know every detail either at this point, yeesh. But then, a pointed look at the injury, Should probably get that cleaned up.  Lake or river's your best bet, take your pick.

Sorry for short reply, brain is fried from lack of sleep

If Rye had to equate his feelings to something, he would say its like someone let lose a ground squirrel in his guts. Twisting, moving and shoving them every which way, it was god awful and it only seemed to get worse with the introduction of Quixote's son. Yet he still managed a quick nod of the head Owens way. Then came the eyebrow raise from Quixote, that, coupled with a few other things, said everything it needed to. So thankfully Rye would adhere to the alphas' unspoken request. But there was the problem of telling him just what was in plain sight by the lake, he didn't just want to say Towhee was there screwing around but a warning was due. More so now with the young'un around, Quixote probably wouldn't take too kidnly to his son seeing that. Rye swallowed hard, grinding his teeth as he went through the maze of secretive verbiage, picking words off the hedge as he went. "The lake is a bit busy right now, I think I will go to the river and clean there." That was probably a little too on the nose but it would have to do. Rye really wanted to talk in private, knowing it was better to spill his guts now rather than later but that would have to wait.

<3 ...well I can't promise mine is any better, heh, but hopefully it's comprehensible and not too typo-riddled, at least.

Obviously Owen was pretty limited in his interest and/or ability to properly Adult still too; it wasn't just Qui who was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole young-spawn-growing-up thing. Perched beside him on half-crouched forelimbs Owen stared up at his father and tried to work his way through that cryptic and bizarre statement, And you shouldn't for a little while either. What? Why the heck should he avoid his aunt, or his friend for that matter? Was something that terribly wrong with them?! Owen's green eyeballs inexorably were drawn back to Rye's festering injuries as vague speculations stirred and started wildly churning in circles in his young (and seemingly rather thick) head. Qui's so very pointed emphasis on the word fight did not illuminate things for young Owen any further, and in fact only threw him into more confusion.

He attempted to regain some regal gravitas as he returned Rye's nod, but failed at this pretty miserably, especially with the lurking horror so readily apparent in his riveted gaze still. This guy Rye hadn't, like...beaten up Towhee, had he?! Maybe X had left those bloody scars zigzagging all across the guy's body! Maybe it was about to be up to him and his dad to finish the job, one way or another, a prospect that left Owen's stomach roiling and recalled that weird stranger Sizzle all too vividly: Owen was pretty dang sure he was not up to such a task yet, and maybe not ever. His eyes went even wider with shock as Rye responded, however, with an equally vague, "The lake is a bit busy right now..."

Owen regarded Rye with growing awe as yet another fantastic possibility occured to the gangling youngest of the males. Was it the fabled monster of the lake that Rye had just been fighting that had left him so sorely injured?! Wow! Owen had never known a wolf to take on the lake monster before. That would be a hella impressive feat. His tailtip twitched from one side to another as he looked upon Rye with growing confidence and respect both. ...His father's words (that Owen's author totally didn't forget to respond to above, too) came back to him and snapped him out of his reverie, though. Oh, uhm, well...nnnno? I dunno. They're some of the green ones, anyway, but...no. A laden pause as his eyes wandered back up and down Rye in something now akin to hero-worship fascination. I can show Rye where they are though and he can pick them out for himself though, he blurtingly suggested. I-i-if he doesn't know where the garden is, that is, I mean...?

My turn to be short and late, heh.  Aaaa, wow weeks are a lot more crunchy when you suddenly dump an hour or so every dayish into fitness crud. Gee.

Good, Rye got the message.  And Owen seemed hopelessly confused but Qui wasn't exactly sure that was avoidable at all.  That was like... Owen's standard status in life, wasn't it? It was a little unfortunate that Owen didn't know what the plant was either, though Qui was more in a "I'll know it when I see it" camp rather than limited to "it's green."  You know what, they could take that moment away from him to explain things.  Or something. Hell.  Whatever.  Something.

Anyway, let's get this cat-herding operation going before some other Obvious Distraction showed up.  Hopefully it'd be the opposite way Towhee and Poe went, too.  Well, to the river then.  You can wash that off thoroughly, we can go find that plant while you do that... he indicated first to Rye, then to Owen as he talked. And see from there.  It'd give him a little bit to figure out how the hell to explain things to Owen, at least.  And then figure out how to deal with Rye (Towhee would be later.. Except events would unfold that would make it so that wouldn't even happen) without giving himself a migraine.  Anyway, he started walking in that direction, but wasn't going to take more than a few steps before making sure they were following.

Sorry I was gone so long but hopefully things calm down in life!

 

Rye had settled into comfort at the lack of a lecture or Quixote running him out of the land wearing more wounds but it was a false sense of comfort. Owen was there, perhaps Ryes' only buffer between his real punishment. Real talk would begin once the youth left, and Rye knew it but let himself remain in the false comfort a little longer than really needed. He kept his tongue still, opting silence as the better option than blabbering on about anything really. A simple nod of his head and Rye was following the alpha, keeping in theme with is silence, down to his own foot steps. The walk to the river would give him plenty of time to come up with what to tell the alpha exactly, honesty was the best bet, the little Rye knows about Quixote told him that much at least. 

In typical Rye fashion, his mind did not come up with a plan but instead put Towhee front and center. The possibility that he could be a father of 2, 3, maybe even 4 pups was scary nwo that he was truly faced with that fact. Fatherhood, as Quixote described it was, interesting. At least thats what Rye got from what the alpha said but that still didn't stop the fear of being a father. Ryes' pace quickened and soon he past the alpha, he didn't notice until his feet suddenly got a whole lot colder and wet. Forcing himself out of his own mind, Rye got to work cleaning his wound and the fur around it. Watching as the water washed away the blood and took it down stream, so far the wound had minimal pain levels and the blood had stopped. At least that was something good to come out of that day.

*growls at RL* Well it's efinitely not behaving too well over here, at least. Grumblemutter... no worries, though! My posting speed has been nothing to brag about lately either, obviously.

Owen trailed obediently though slightly reluctantly after his father; his eyes kept straying to Rye, instead. Quixote seemed awfully reticent, and Rye likewise seemed to wish to bite his tongue in the presence of the curt and cryptic alpha, but maybe if Owen could hang back enough to get Rye at least kinda on his own, the story of this obviously epic battle might be more forthcoming? Or heck—given that Towhee and Poe were apparently also involved (X obviously wouldn't be all that much help) maybe one of them might prove more willing to illuminate the tale a little further... except Papa Qui had warned Owen to stay away from both of them, right. What the heck?! Was there something Qui had witnessed that he didn't want his son privy to? Owen's confusion was growing more, not less, in the wake of all this as more and more thoughts came crowding in and swirling about his young brain.

The real answer didn't even cross that selfsame mind, however. And Rye was soundlessly sticking to the path alongside Qui, which really limited Owen's options here no matter how much he was itching to pepper Rye with the questions that kept popping up in his brain like multiplying out-of-control rabbits. Rye peeled off as they hit the river, though, and Owen slowed his steps and opened his mouth to begin the questioning when Qui looked sternly back at the boy again to make sure he was following. Owen folded back his big red ears, swallowed down his queries once again, and dragged himself reluctantly after his dad. Dangit. What the heck, Qui. Interrupting a perfectly good interrogation, and probably just so he could give cryptic brooding remarks that told his son nothing, if Owen didn't miss his guess.  Hmph.

Hangdog and a bit sulky, Owen followed wordlessly after Qui with a last lingering look thrown in Rye's direction. Owen hardly even noticed when they came up on Mom's herb patch. Stupid green things were not nearly as interesting as epic pondmonster battles to the death, after all. When his vacant eyes registered the location, however, the brilliantly springtime-green expanse gently waving their multivariate leaves in his direction in the passing errant breeze, Owen's rump slumped to the ground and he only halfheartedly scanned the vegetable matter. Stupid plants. River water would do well enough for Rye, right? It didn't look to Owen like he was dying or anything. Which logically meant there was no good reason Owen couldn't've just stayed behind and listened to Rye recount his enthralling heroics, no good reason at all. But it seemed pretty obvious Dad had just dragged him along here as an excuse to get him away from Rye and probably Towhee and Poe as well, phooey. Which Owen supposed meant he oughta pay attention to Qui now, even if only halfheartedly. His eyes flickered to his father, then away, then back again, but even as they nominally turned in the black wolf's direction it was apparent that his attention was really only half-there. S'one of the green ones, like I said, Owen resentfully half-muttered.

Was it wrong for him to hope that neither of the women would end up with pups?  Maybe?  Honestly he didn't know so he was gonna keep that thought to himself.  At least he didn't think Rye was gonna run off into the sunset, because the only thing he could think of that would be worse than a couple of litters of unexpected pups when Raven still hadn't had her heat yet was the possibility that one or more might be a single mother relying on everyone else to help care for them.  Could they bear those resources?

As Qui and Owen headed to the garden, he gathered his thoughts.  It was only when they arrived that he finally spoke up with the summary he'd concocted, The reason you really want to go find Poe and Towhee right now is because they're in heat.  It's their bodies telling everyone, whether they like it or not, that they're ready to have puppies.  And it tells every guy in the area they should totally help with that.  It can make people do stupid things, like get in fights they might not otherwise.  Right now it isn't as big of a deal for you, but it will probably be a lot more distracting when you're older -- but if you know what it is, that can help you from doing something you otherwise wouldn't.  Especially since getting in fights isn't ever great, and having kids is a big deal that you don't want to jump in unless you and the pack are ready.  Ugh. Was he explaining this at all well?  Obviously he was avoiding the gory details at the moment -- that wasn't part of the question that had technically been asked, after all.  Any questions? 

And if Owen had any questions, that'll get answered at the beginning of the next post but would actually go here time-wise.

And yeah, pretty sure it's these ones.  Forget what they're called, but they should help with his wounds.  Other than that, after collecting some of the herbs (just be thankful he was like 95% sure it was the right ones), I've got some that can be used now, you've got some we can give him to use later.  So let's head on back.  And so they did, exciting stuff.  Qui wasn't paying too much attention to the walk because he was pretty sure that he'd somehow mentally scarred Owen or something.

Anyhoo, eventually they made it back to Rye, who was hopefully all cleaned up by then.  Qui came forward and set down the plants he carried.  These are supposed to get chewed up and put on the wound to prevent infection.  Do you want to do it or should I?  Owen's got another pile of 'em that you can use later.  I think they should be good for a couple days.  Quixote gave him a choice partially because well, he definitely was not a healer, so he might not be comfortable with it or something.  Who knows. Just seemed appropriate to him.  It was just fortunate that he'd picked up a few things from being Raven's mate.  Gee.

Ryes' mind was like the current below him, forever moving rushing down stream. His wound still ached, but the blood and dirt was gone and with the medicine to reduce infection chances he would make a full recovery. Back to the state of his mind, the river. It was filled with Towhee, the other male and the thoughts that surrounded his deeds. He knew full well responsibility will be his, Rye was sure Quixote would be pleased with that but not so pleased a punishment wasn't in order. He almost didn't hear Quixote talking about the medicine until the backround noise got his attention. He looked towards the alpha, a blank stare was all he could muster as a response for the moment  but eventually he nodded.

"Ah, thanks. I'll just take them and go, no need to check in on me. I'll be nursing my wound for the next day or so." He plainly stated, an emotionless look pressed to his face. Shock, worry and regret was tackling every other emotion and stuffing them away. The gravity of the situation was scary, Rye couldn't lie. He didn't want to be a father, he wasn't ready. It had just been a rough day for the male and he needed time to sort himself out, hopefully Quixote wold underunder. "I don't plan on ditching Towhee, or this pack. Dont worry, you have my word even if it means little." And with that, he grabbed fhe medicine and left. Heading in any random direction north, west, south? He didn't care. Anywhere was fine by him.

Last post for me unless needed, if so just say. I don't mind!

Sure thing—unless you for whatever reason really WANT to respond to Owen's inchoate nonsense here, ahahaha. Dumb kid.  :P
That is of course assuming all this belated hasty confused rambling can be made sense of, eheheh  <.<;;  Rawrgh! May try to get this edited for clarity agan later, we'll see, though most of it's just Owen once again misdirecting himself inside his own head anyway, in practice.

Owen ratcheted his spine up to sit up straight, bit by bit, as his father launched into what actually ended up being a bit of a rant—Owen was a bit startled that obviously all this drama had touched a nerve in the male alpha. The kid's green eyes were distracted and a bit blank even as they obediently latched onto his father's matching pair, however: Owen was also put out and unconvinced that Qui was trying to offer up this dodgy-feeling explanation that this was just some sort of normal "in heat" thing (a phenomenon Owen hadn't really run into, and didn't really "get" on some fundamental level still...obviously...but which in any case seemed far too tame and humdrum to him to be able to explain away all the weirdness and excitement and furtiveness on everyone's part). It just didn't seem to fit; down in his bones Owen felt that there was no way he could possibly be getting the whole story here, or even the most exciting part of it. He had zero intention of getting into fights or spawning kids of his own...wtf, did Quixote think he was stupid or something?!...but at the same time Owen felt restlessly dissatisfied and his brain kept wandering off on tangents and returning to his earlier, far-preferable private suppositions. Giant pondmonster fights halfway to the death were exciting, after all, while "going into heat" was incomprehensible yet somehow still pretty ordinary and boring, at least if you asked Owen. So when his father finally asked if he had any questions, what unthinkingly and slightly plaintively popped out was, But what does that have to do with the pond monster?!

Owen was already glancing distractedly back over his shoulder towards Rye again when his mind caught up with the question it had insisted on voicing. ...Whoops. That had been a bit dumb of him to voice aloud. After all, he'd never yet even gotten Qui to admit the thing even existed! So he really didn't think he was going to suddenly get a confession here and now just because a whole bunch more confusing nonsense was all of a sudden happening. No, if Owen wanted to really get to the bottom of all this, obviously he was going to have to go behind his father's back and do some deeper investigating of his own. ...You know what? Never mind, he said, glancing back to Qui and trying to look intelligent and attentive and as if he had totally been paying attention this whole time and swallowing all this BS wholesale. They're, uh, in heat and all, stay away from them, right. Got it. The more he thought about it the more a bit of frustration with Rye was starting to build within the gangling teen. Dangit, why hadn't Rye butted in with a more satisfactory explanation of his own?! The whole impassioned babbling explanation by Qui seemed so frustratingly incomplete, while meantime Owen was so sure Rye would have some sort of totally contradictory and far-more-interesting story to tell.

Thankfully for Owen's increasingly restlessly dancing feet, Qui had some idea of what he was doing and didn't take too long to grab a few plants and start heading back in Rye's direction. Owen didn't quite surge ahead of his father after he haphazardly grabbed a few matching green stalks of his own, but obviously had some impulsive drive to do so that he was fighting down as his paws repeatedly almost did just that before reeling themselves back in check and letting his elder and superior patriarch precede him most of the way back to their packmate. Despite his thirsty impatience however, Owen wasn't quite sure how to begin, and only got as far as, Uh, so uh, we got you some of these plants...see... while gesturing vaguely in Qui's direction in a thoughtless - Yeah here have some super-duper great plant crap - manner that also managed to be slightly and clumsily sarcastic. Fortunately I don't think Rye likely caught on, and with even Qui's more-tenuous grasp of ptero it was likely that Owen's distracted rudeness went mostly-unmarked, particularly as Qui launched into a more-useful and coherent set of instructions of his own to Rye. ...Rye, though, Rye was almost as distracted as Owen himself had been. And as unhelpfully reticent as Owen had thought his father would be. Rye seemed not fully in possession of himself as he noped on outta there, but was too traumatized and preoccupied to offer up anything meatier than a hasty promise to stick around the pack and...also around Aunt Towhee?!...before he skedaddled. Owen made a frustrated noise of inarticulate complaint after Rye's vanishing tail— - But—! ARGH! - —but although he instinctively lifted an eager paw toward the trail Rye was hastily blazing, Owen glanced back at his father and immediately hunkered back, hunching a bit grupily down in on himself. A scarce moment later he picked up his big ivory paws again to move off away from Qui but with different intent. Um, right...guess that's that... he half-mumbled with no real thought to it before likewise escaping the scene entirely.

If Rye was going to go hang out with Aunt Towhee, after all, then Owen was obviously going to get in a big heap o' trouble if he followed right after the guy. The boy knew his own tracking abilities weren't really up to par, but felt he had no choice but to make a very deliberate and obvious completely different choice of direction to exit in as he too ditched Qui in order to wrestle with his own internal problems elsewhere. And fortunately for him his father was probably too distracted by whatever other issues had him fretting to up and chase his son down, at least so long as Owen wasn’t too obviously and immediately disobeying. Owen was still so deeply convinced that there was something more to all of this that Qui just wasn't telling him, though! It couldn't just be some heat thing, and obviously whatever secret story all the grownups and Poe were privy to that Owen wasn't was keeping Qui's mind at least as preoccupied as Owen's own. Maybe he should try to track down Poe, the teen mused as he scarpered off with only a brief last glance in his father's direction... once he was sure he wouldn't get absolutely reamed for doing so, anyhow. That might be the only way the boy was ever going to get a more satisfyingly complete picture of the story here, or so he was convinced.

I think it's pretty much to an easy wrap up point anyway.  Asked Bryn if she wanted to post again but if not I'll staple on a concluding paragraph and archive in a while!

The only pond monster there is the feathered kind called a goose.  They were kind of jerks, after all.  If people wanted to hunt them out of existence he'd be perfectly fine with that, ugh.  Winter was better because they didn't stick around.  And Qui had no idea what a pond monster had anything to do with anything either.  Guess that was pretty much just Owen being Owen... Like usual.  At some point it'd be nice if he grew out of the whole seeing conspiracies in shadows thing but that seemed kind of unlikely (or just unfortunately so for Qui).

Yeah everything was just a giant pile of awkward.  And maybe it was a good thing that Rye exited quick after.  Qui had responded with a nod but there really wasn't much else to say at this point.  It gave him a headache, that was for sure.  Maybe some point later they could talk through it again.  If/when it was clear whether or not there was going to be an unexpected litter in the pack.  It'd certainly carry more weight then.  Later on it would turn out that it wouldn't be necessary, for multiple reasons, but hey, right now the characters don't know.

He turned back to Owen.  So, with that detour done... Do you want to go hunt something for everyone's dinner?  We can head to the thicket up north of here and see what we can rustle up -- easier with two.  It was probably gonna be a few of the grouse, if so.  But either way, Qui was keen to get away from the territory for a bit.  Fresh air, clear his head and all that...

Yeah Qui go hunt down my RL and throttle some sense & stability into it kthx gyagh! Eheh. >.>
Anyway, just getting this ready to archive, meantime!

Owen bit his tongue and didn’t rise to the bait with the whole geese thing. He knew geese well enough to give them a wide berth... and while they might quite arguably be monstrous birds, they certainly weren’t THE Monster. Nope. Try again!

Owen was already trying to scuttle away when his father pinned him with another question. Not quite fast enough, dangit— Oh, ah, well...no, no, that’s all right, I’m not hungry, thanks all the same, he managed to awkwardly stammer out. Qui could go find someone else to be his patsy. Owen hightailed it outta there, now making sure to swing wide of the supposedly-in-heat girls and the grouse-laden thicket both.

Somehow he felt like he'd somehow messed up this whole thing.  Qui was pretty sure he hadn't, but the feeling was still there.  Maybe it was just the whole "kids grow up" thing.  But it'd give him some doubts, as Owen frequently did.  How had they gone wrong?  What could he do different?   Sigh.  Hopefully something he could figure out.  Later.  Not now.  

Okay, then no complaining if I bring back something you don't want.  Can always come catch up if you change your mind...  He reached out to lightly headbutt Owen's shoulder before turning to head off.  Though he did only go a few strides before pausing to make certain of Owen's decision.

Yeah, he was totally looking forward to the conversation with Raven when he got back.  Quixote better find something tasty to bring home with him.