Neverwinter Forest the slightest touch forced to fold

Another day, another outing, and this time he reached towards Moonspear's somewhat closest neighbor. Relatively speaking, it was more the mountain beyond the evergreen forest that called to him as a vantage point... discovering that their northerly neighbors were still there just happened to be a mixed bag of bonuses. Though their run-ins were tangles at best, he hadn't paid them much thought or mind until he was forced to follow along their borders at a distance.

Where others had reached a dissolution of numbers to retain their home, it seemed that the bloke here had a decent handle on what he was doing. It was either that, or he was every bit as stubborn as he had seemed from their first encounter. Perhaps now there was more substance to what he had from those weeks ago, but Dirge couldn't recall or tell.

It wasn't like he needed to cut through to get anywhere close—he opted to go around this time and almost without saying it helped that there were no signs of wayward children having gone over borders in search of one thing or another. Though on that note... he recalled Isilme, and thought of Dragomir in the wake of that. The boy had integrated well for the most part, at least he thought so. Perhaps he'd find him when he turned back to the mountain later.

For now, with a wary eye to watch the fringes of a wood he held at arm's length, Dirge continued to cut a trail through the snow around the claim. No sense in raising alarm when he was out for a jaunt, or so he hoped.

@Mal & @Cam, if y'all want it.

Mal was coming from the other direction.  Patrols.  Normal things.   Scratch the snow here, pee there, blah blah.  It was a good way for him to clear his head and think about things.  Recruiting floated near the forefront of his mind.  He totally screwed up not inviting Cupid back with him, but it wasn't like he could rewind time and do it.  It wasn't like he was thinking too clearly at the time, for whatever reason, but that wasn't something he thought too hard about.

Apparently he wasn't alone out here -- someone was around the outside.  His steps slowed for a moment, ears tipping forward.  At least at this distance the one coming opposite along the outside wasn't familiar, but as Mal got closer, it did become clear.  Moonspear.  The scent was a reminder too.  This was the... Kinda reasonable guy? Not the one who was reasonable then flipped out later.  And obviously it wasn't that lady who came when he called about the crazy trio.  They hadn't gone and given names, really -- they were just a jerk-amoeba to him.

While he'd been gone, Mal had done a bit of growing -- mentally at least, physically he was much the same aside from being more put-together these days.  Sure, they'd lost some members, but they'd gained others, and all things considered, it wasn't as bad as things could have been.  He didn't bless the guy with a tail wag, but gave him the courtesy of remaining as neutral as possible as Mal got close.  Came back, huh?  Hope it's just a social call.  Any movement in his peripheral vision was gonna draw his attention -- they came in a mob before, this could be no different.

Several more minutes in and he thought he was in the clear. It was quiet, the perfect sort of midday adventure that could very well leave him to his own thoughts and devices until something else of interest comes up. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending upon the position, his luck never quite went that way. It's Mal that comes into view around a bend where he's forced to step in closer to the claim because of a creek, and it's Mal that spied him all too easily and called out.

At least this time, Dirge is grateful that their crossing paths is even-keeled.

He slowed in his pace, if only on the social cues. Anything else would invite trouble.

"Not really a social call today, just passing by." Short and to the point, but also this time lacking the bite he had afforded the yearling. "Thought I'd free myself from the wife and kids and go for a stroll for a change of pace," and that was only a half-truth. Hydra could spurn his advances all she wanted, but he had never really had to try and avoid the children. With their newfound freedoms they were keen to explore rather than be plastered to his side at all times.

jump in whenever miryam!

Mal's modus operandi had been to be of good humor, maybe a little playful when you really listened to what he was saying at the borders, but here there was definitely no such wiggle room -- his comment earlier was as close as it got.  Moonspear had earned the lack of trust, and Mal was split between wanting the guy to go away and wanting some intel on what they might be doing.  After all, if they were still being bananas, he could tell his people just to not go west or whatever.  Maybe.

Still.  He had stopped, was alert, and was mentally trying to do the equivalent of prepare to disarm a bomb without proper training just in case. She the chick who came by about the three psychos?  As far as I can tell none of them came back after that.  Mal was totally not against offering information if it ensured that they were gonna be left alone... Only issue was he wasn't sure he had any.  So what should he ask that'd be useful?  Had to be something.

Whatever, something obvious.  It wasn't like Mal had traveled much recently, but if prey was back, then that would explain the lack of contact (thank goodness), I guess since I haven't seen you guys in a while, I assume stuff is doing better at your mountain or whatever.  They hadn't shown up again -- Markus had been the last one to have to deal with them, and then things had been quiet.  But now things seemed to be returning to normal, or so said a couple of hoofprints.  He hadn't found the deer yet, but he kind of got interrupted last time and just hadn't bothered to look today.

He huffed at the description of three psychos, but Mal was right about that. They were psychotic, at least what little bits and pieces Dirge had put together about them. And as far as he knew, they were still out there somewhere... though preferably wrecking havoc somewhere else far, far away. It had kept them on edge for a spell, still did in some regard by any wager Dirge made, but he thought his ventures outward were worth the gamble.

"Yeah, that's the one," he murmured with the same good note attached. "And we've been tending to our own for the most part. It's good those nasty strays haven't turned up again, too. But you on the other hand seem to be fairing well. Winter hasn't been a kind season thus far," and while Roangeda had fallen into disrepair, Mal seemed to be doing something right after all.

"Must be hiding a herd in there, aren't you? They always liked that forest." Humor colored him further, and a smile graced his features. He didn't know if it was the sort of thing his company would take to, but short of knowing what else to offer as an olive branch it seemed the best route.

Humor.  A certain part of him wanted to believe that maybe everything was a mistake and Moonspear was full of reasonable wolves.  Yeah, that was too much of a stretch.  He wasn't going to relax that easy, and Mal wasn't entirely sure what would make him relax.  It might not be something that could happen today even if this guy broke down and begged.  Yeah, we've done okay, all things considered.  No thanks to Moonspear, other trespassers, shortage of food, winter in general...  Hell, Mal had never been able to actually hunt the deer before all hell broke loose.

The kind of joking about the herd kind of put Mal in a weird place.  They'd never been able to hunt the deer -- everyone was off on their own, then the deer were gone, now... Maybe they could soon.  But just in case, it was one of those things were it was best to tell the truth as it wasn't as appealing. So, Mal shook his head, I haven't seen them with my own eyes yet.  But I wouldn't exactly be eager to tell you if they were, it's not like your pack has exactly made a lot of friends here.  Like did he even care what they'd done to Markus and Cam?  Probably not, based on Mal's interaction.  But at the same time, if there was a tentative way to keep them out of their fur, he'd take it (and then bad talk them behind their backs until someone else became a greater danger).

Burying the hatchet was proving to be a bit more difficult. Though mildly aware of what all had transpired, Dirge couldn't have claimed to have a hand in all of it. Nor did he anticipate that they would make friends every which way they turned. Yet the turn of words did little more than spread a demure smile to his features—perhaps it would be unwise if they all shared where they had seen things.

"Don't feel bad, it's not just here that the herds are lacking. Word has it that it's still that way everywhere, even now that the quaking has stopped." A pause followed, and his gaze drew outward towards the plains would be had the snow not obscured it. "Though if you do come across any, be wary of them. We've found a sickly few brought down by their own illness than any of our ilk. Once you've caught wind of them it's a hard stench to forget." Presuming, of course, that they already hadn't.

Had all that just been so easy to sweep out of mind for this guy?  On the one hand, Mal wished he could just forget it all and start over, but that didn't seem right or fair for Markus and Cam.  Well, that and Mal was pretty good about holding grudges on his own.

Still, this guy was even giving them a fair warning about unrelated stuff.  Ugh.  It didn't ring true with anything he'd smelled, but that didn't mean it wasn't true, and it'd be easy enough to tell if he was right... Why was he being nice-ish?  I don't think anything like that has come our way.  What we've found has been pretty obviously normal.  Another way it was good to be a small pack made up of inexperienced people who weren't gonna even try?  Maybe.  

But as helpful as it was, it avoided the point of the matter.  Look, obviously you don't think stuff that's happened has been a big deal.  So then how should I be describing your pack to.. I dunno, the kid who got chewed on by you guys?  Okay, the stick had done more damage, probably, but the whole thing had happened because of Moonspear.  Well, that and the idiots of Elysium being bad at teaching children, but that was a given.  How did you just excuse messing up a kid?  Why wouldn't he continue to be suspicious of ulterior motives when they were perfectly happy to mutilate the innocent?

So they were lucky and good for them, he supposed. Not so much for the likes of them up in the mountains, but perhaps their luck would still turn if the herds were driven in their direction... if they were so lucky. Maybe it wasn't quite the card to play, but it had seemed the right sort of information to pass along given what had been shared about them and the trio who pursued Dragomir and his absent sister.

Which that topic came to mind too... only to be sidelined by the next statement that was pressed to him. His brow furrowed in an instant; there had been several instances where he recalled action being taken, but the problem was that there had been several. And as for any of them being children, he could not genuinely recall.

"Chewed on?" Who had been the one to set teeth to a kid? More importantly, why? "We don't set our teeth on others for sport, but we have had our share of scavengers as of late, and some more aggressive than others in the sense that they've come far into our claim. What kid are you talking about?" Forget the lively social tone, he had taken this seriously.

Oh, so he didn't know, then?  That was a shift.  See, there were reasons Mal was particularly standoffish, and they were pretty justified as far as he could tell. I doubt he gave a name -- black, green eyes, looking for Elysium. I don't know what all exactly happened -- he wasn't very clear about it other than a couple of dark wolves attacked him, and he was bitten and skewered by a stick.  But whatever happened left its mark.  He hadn't pushed.  The reaction with that other trespasser showing up made Mal just want to keep away from the whole thing. Let's be real, he wasn't a psychologist, so avoiding stuff was easier.

Cam was innocent, the ones that were at fault were far away. Elysium tried to teach its children to be nice and that people should help everyone and whatever, but they failed all of us by doing so.  If he got too close, he showed up expecting to be helped and got teeth instead.  They didn't wait, they didn't ask questions, because how did anyone get away with going and attacking a kid that Mal was sure meant no harm?  How do you excuse that?

He couldn't stop it—a wince crossed his features at the word skewered.

But a fountain of information turned into what Dirge guessed next as a bit of a history lesson on Elysium in the next breath. Whatever it had to do with the kid was lost on him at first and in essence, he almost felt as though Mal answered his own question as to why the kid had teeth set to him in the first place.

It was still troubling, if only for the fact that kid only drew a thought of his own, and how easily they too could meet the same misfortune if they encountered the wrong sort. Though certainly by now he thought they would be able to know the difference—they certainly would know how to conduct themselves, knowing not all were friend outside the range of Moonspear's claim.

An uneasy expression set his jaw; he did not like this information.

"If he's old enough to know better and where he shouldn't have been, the biting on our part is likely, I'd admit... but skewering isn't quite our style," though note made, maybe it should have been. He wouldn't tell Hydra about that note. "Though generally we don't seek to maim where a warning will suffice. I'd expect more of that from our neighbors to the south, or that Blackhead mongrel and her lot." And if he had been younger than that? Dirge felt they would have taken him in, but that was beside the point.

He shook his head; was this even worth getting to the bottom of?

Probably not. It would go on the docket regardless.

"I'll see what I can find out from our end of things... but did he heal? Or does he need more aid?" He wanted to say that they had a healer, but even that seemed worth warranting a harsh reply that he could already piece together.

So did this pack not know anything about what their buddies did? Mal tried his best to make sure all those he was protecting knew what was up. Sure, he couldn't talk to everyone all the time, but making sure important stuff like that was going on was well-known seemed like.. Well, important. And given the number of trespassers they'd dealt with...

Physically healed up, at least. Mal wasn't entirely dumb enough to toss aside the weird way Cam had acted when that dumb trespasser chick wandered through -- like he reverted or something. Mal didn't have a word for it.  He's still a kid, though.  A kid who was looking for help, not anything bad, some warning. And whatever they'd done to him, Mal had seen as particularly cruel.  Someone stealing, sure.  A starving adult, sure.  But Cam was a kid, still was as far as Mal was concerned, and Moonspear was repeatedly showing themselves to be kind of be over-reactive jerks time and again.

He did find the note about the neighbors to the south an.. Interesting sidenote. Wait. He was a little curious, but still pretty reserved, as was obvious from the fact he wasn't going and rattling off a whole story here, And you mean Nightwalkers? Yeah, he thought they were sketchy, but if that was confirming it, and he'd have to pass that along to make sure everyone knew. At least if they tried anything questionable, there was still that sort-of-alliance that Mal figured they could fall back on to prevent anything crazy. Then the ones at fault would be Nightwalkers, or so Mal was pretty sure.

"Yeah, those would be the ones," he remarked, jaw setting. "I take it that you've met them as well?" Even with their continued semblance of loyalty to Moonspear, Dirge could not help but be wary of them. Sellfangs had a certain way about them that would never quite sit right with him, but maybe it only meant that he held tight to some old fashioned ideal, or the illusion of an ideal to begin with. Perhaps they all traded their loyalty for something—all the more reason such notions of freedom and wanderlust were inland for him.

Though all things considered, he was curious just what Mal thought of them. It was no secret that he didn't think particularly highly of Moonspear and vice versa, but he did have his cordial moments. "I'm not sure what to think of them, really," he admitted. Were they more decent than they seemed? He doubted it, remembering all too well the friend of Arcturus that had been tattered by their wandering sets of teeth. But perhaps the real question was if his own were better than that. He could not answer himself.

sorry i took forever :(

It's no prob! <3

Mal thought that the pair who showed up had been pretty telling. Perhaps he'd have learned more if it had been closer to present day, but as it were, he'd handled it, he'd managed. The world hadn't ended, and he had an opinion. Yeah. Gonna go out on a limb and say they got issues. They called for me, then sat down and started talking about how they were going to steal stuff from us. Their little talk about how great they were? Well, boils down to pretty sure the ones who came here didn't know their whole talk. I'm not even sure they were supposed to be out here. Because of that he had no idea if that alliance they had suggested was even worth their words. He wasn't planning on ever using their weird little mercenary thing or whatever, he'd be happier if they just evaporated.

Mal had some other thoughts about other pack politics things, but he was going to see what this guy said in response. If Mal didn't see the response he wanted, he'd hold off on the cards he was gonna play for some other day. That's the good thing about it being just a metaphor, he could delay saying stuff if the moment wasn't right. It wasn't like Mal had an army to back him up, he had to be smart.

And Dirge agreed. An untrustworthy pack. Would they end up doing something awful? Who knew. But trusting them to always do the right thing was probably foolish. The Moonspear alpha had lingered long enough, and needed to return home. Fair enough. A few words of farewell and they parted -- all things considered, it hadn't gone too bad, had it?

Well, at least Mal didn't end up dead.