Wapun Meadow bébé ils ne veulent pas de toi

The meadow was a bleak place with only faint touches of a green not quite returned. It could have been worse, she supposed, it could have been a complete mud hole of nothing more than pitfalls and other nefarious traps. But the meadow was a nice change of pace if nothing else, and it was at a leisure pace she made her way along.

Maybe once spring finally rolled out and everything sprouted and grew, she would find something useful here. Of course, it would have been a pointless task to try and gather herbs, but to know where to find them... it certainly drew her back to a simpler, happier time.

When those dark clouds threatened to rain and weigh in on her though, Phoebe firmly shoved them away. Too much time had passed to try and find her way back home, though she didn't know that it would have been as much of a pointless task as wanting to gather herbs—her family, for the most part, was long gone. Free of this place and its neighbors, presumably off to happier climes.

She paused, drawing in the scent of the earth, of the ever present damp, and much more.

@Merrick

there was so much to see these days. merrick was tireless, patrolling with a never-ending stream of manic stamina summoned somewhere from within.
if he slept it was in fitful snatches in the hours just before dawn, opening his eye when sunlight filtered through the lightening sky.
today his eye was upon a dark shape moving across a territory merrick had long decided was the property of he and his. 
rust nape flared to ruddy bristles; merrick the carrionbird loped aggressively toward the stranger, a rangy gait that implied he was completely in control of the situation, and any hint of suspicious acting would get the fucker slaughtered.

Solitude was a famliar thing, but it was fleeting.

She did not see him at first, did not see how he barreled across the meadow with enmity writ so cleanly in every movement. A handful of seconds passed; Phoebe was wrapping up her quaint investigation with every intention of moving on when she heard the footfalls. They were thunderous, perhaps wrenching the very soft earth up in their wake.

Time slowed in that moment as she drew her attention towards him and for a moment she mistook him as a spectre from her past. Vasa, maybe, or better yet one of those younger siblings that she hadn't even taken the time to know. She blinked, eyes refocusing and body tensing at the realization that no, it wasn't. They had never come for her and surely, they would not now.

She bristled in an instant, standoffish and perturbed at the rush. She felt her throat seize with an all too familiar wave of anxiety that she had fought so hard to temper and tap down, to smother like embers of a dying fire. But they flared and twisted, a bud of anger coursing into her features by way of a knit brow. Did she stand her ground, or did she run? There wasn't enough time to decide, too late to choose, and the choice would be made for her.

The best she could hope for was to whirl away in that moment to avoid a collision, teeth clicking together not so much in warning as it did ask its own question: what the hell, man.

a woman, a fine-cut backsplash of dark marble with snowy accents. aesthetic in the way a suit might be in a courtroom. and merrick, judge. he unsheathed his own teeth a moment, but did not follow the shadow that had dispelled before him.
"can't you fucking smell?" merrick demanded, but his ragged tone did not fit the sudden eerie nature of how quickly his features shifted from anger to interest.
he said nothing more, only held himself still, prying into her expression with his own. what's your story, sweetheart?

She didn't answer him. She couldn't.

With a heart thundering away with no signs of stopping, the sudden change of tactics left her off guard. A frantic string of thoughts spun up—had she missed something? She thought she had been alone, left to trod through endless mud and rain and sleet. And she had been.

Had he wanted just to scare her?

As composed as she tried to draw herself up to be, her chest heaved. Ever uncomfortable, ever wary; an answer given most likely to raise more questions.

"Who are you?" Obviously a wolf a bit more rough around the edges than she; he was pockmarked with history to complement the ferocity that burned in a single eye. No small wonder how he got those, she thought. She swallowed roughly, aware of how dry her mouth had become, but her tone stayed soft.

"What do you want?"

he was intoxicated by the misting droplets of her fear, placated by the tension in her elegant lines and the swallow that bobbed her slim throat. velveteen lilt to her voice. peachy. "this is my territory," merrick purred in a gilded tonality. he made no secret of his gaze roving over her. she was no nightshade, but the bears would sup her blood just as happily.
"i'm its god." the words sprang to his tongue, he spoke them, a vessel for the inhabiting spirit.
i could be yours, too
he was silent then, keeping back from invasion of her space, but lingering near, for as far as merrick was concerned, the songbird was trespassing.

She must have missed something, then. That was the only explanation that sprang to the forefront of her mind, and he was either mad or simply a bizaare joker. But within his right, if nothing else, and gratitude welled where the fear left gaps.

"Its god?" A strange name for leader, but even she still held onto a particular innocence still. Composure rolled back more steadily, and apology crossed her features as her brow eased. "I'm sorry I didn't realize this was yours... I can leave," and she presumed he would see to it. This was a disappointment she knew keenly, far too uncertain to truly stand her ground to make a point, to ask questions.

the woman seemed to grow more steadied as merrick played the role of gentleman escort. "oh, that's not necessary," he smiled with a brisk wash of benevolence.
he was a god, was he not? tail flipping idly at his heels, merrick gestured in invitation that she should join him.
"besides, i'm too fascinated to let you go," came his light-hearted joke, the tip of an iceberg wherein the unseen mass was the snap crackle pop of a projector playing her death onto the green screen of his mind.

In spite of her innocence she could not wash away the sensation that she needed to stay on edge. Perhaps not excessively so, but enough to warrant consideration of his invitation. It was better safe than sorry, wasn't it? She didn't recall who had taught her such a thing, did not chalk it up to instinct.

Fascinated... by me," she said, disbelief coating her words and thoughts. "Why?" No one had ever claimed such a thing; her interest held in this strange god of sorts, and her brow furrowed with confusion. She was no one special.

"why not?" interesting people always found merrick, whether he intended for them to discover him or not. surely she was one of them.
"you're here for a reason," he declared earnestly. "we all are." blackwood and snow. he was enthralled with her pale belly.
"i'm merrick. my pack is called ursus." he was careful, conversational, appraising.

Another strange twist to their conversation, another baited hook that wound her in without her realizing it. Were they really all there for a reason? She could wonder on it all she wanted, but when the answer did not immediately come, she would find herself asking.

"I'm Phoebe," she offered in return, "why do you think we're all here for a reason?" And curiously: "Is that what your pack's about? Finding your reason?" She didn't get the forward offers often, but she had enough smarts to probe further.

phoebe. a pretty name. she seemed to hang upon his words, endearing her further to merrick. "well, there's no reason why we should just aimlessly wander. i give people something to do. a goal. focus."
colonization.
dominance.
bloodshed.
"are you looking for a purpose, phoebe?" he purled the words at her, plume bannerlike and proud as the two paced along the border of the flatland.

A goal. Focus.

She had those hopes and dreams once, when things were idyllic and less all-consuming. When the world had been better through her sight, more vivid. When abandonment hadn't been on the forefront of everyone's mind, nor the grave act she would commit.

Phoebe huffed sofltly, to herself.

"I'm not sure I'd know what a purpose is. At least for myself." Perhaps her purpose had been to roam alone for turning tail on her family, an apt punishment for delivering another blow to their fragile grouping. Her head shook dismissively.

"I haven't exactly been apart of anything for a long time now," came her quiet admission. "Do you know what that's like?"

Perhaps he did, given his tactics.

Every action had a reason, her mother had told her once.

merrick looked at phoebe with a gentle warmth. "my whole family left me. i didn't have a purpose for a long time."
not until he had left lost creek hollow had merrick found himself. astara had aided him in that.
"we can all do great things, if we are willing to fight for it." tattered ear flicked. "you've been adrift a while, maybe."

"Yes," she answered, pondering his words.

"I've never been a good fighter, I suppose that's why no other would have me. My mother taught me to be a healer," and well, not even that had been enough to make her a keeper. She shared such things thoughtlessly, eager for conversation that had not been afforded to her for some time.

Perhaps if she had been a better fighter, her complaints would never again fall on deaf ears. Not the first time she had entertained it, but the tools seemed still to be out of an ever grasping reach.

Her head canted in question.

"Do you teach others how?"

"i'm no healer. but we have one here. skilled man," merrick trilled, thinking of pretty little evien. fierce birdling he had become, that one. "the purpose comes from you listening. i can give you the resources to build while you figure out what the voice is saying."
they all had inner monologues and little whispers, though merrick was aware his own were more dire than most. the bear itself lived in his chest. no other could lay claim to that.
"i can give you a chance to reinvent yourself, phoebe," the coywolf murmured seriously, focus trained upon her as he paused his steps.

Their steps came to a pause, the crossroad before her.

A chance to reinvent herself—she had never heard such an offer before. It was an opportunity that almost seemed too good to be true and yet she was afraid of not taking the chance. And she couldn't remember the last time she had been given a chance, not when everything had been left to circumstance and haphazard luck. She had learned a lot from it, but there was always a need for something more; her life had been set at one point with stability and structure, and the innate need for those things pulled her not towards a parting, but a following.

"A chance to reinvent myself," she murmured to herself. Her gaze had drifted to some vague point of their horizon, but the consideration was pure, genuine. She drew her gaze back to him, briefly pausing on the emptiness of his scarred face before settling somewhere else out of perceived politeness. What an unexpected situation this was, the allure oddly foreign and comforting. Confusing.

"You would do that, even though you don't know me?"

"i do know you," merrick insisted gently, imploringly. "i know you as far as you have shown yourself to me. and that's all i need." merrick, deceitful basketweaver of earnest tones. and he had never known any particularly moral wolves. 
perhaps evien was rubbing off on him a bit.
merrick tilted his head, a mona lisa upswing to his mouth. "you don't know anything about me but you're still here."
guru to a thousand sheep.
orange eye glistened with a sudden wetness.
"and you don't have to be alone any more."

A chill washed over her.

Time felt like it slowed to an agonzing crawl with those final words; if she had truly been a fish then she would have been the easiest caught one lured in by a nothing more than a shiny hook breaking surface tension. Those words sounded like the most genuine thing that she had ever heard. Perhaps they were.

Her mouth opened to ask another question, but her tongue felt dumb and the question never came; the chill turned to pins and needles as something rang true in her. She wouldn't have to be alone any more, weighed down beneath some sort of self-inflicted guilt. She could simply let go of things, maybe, with a little work.

Phoebe's gaze wavered once more, towards the ground.

She righted it, sensing a genuine resolution instead.

"I'd like that. Very much so."

his tail waved once; his single eye bestowed upon phoebe all the respect and admiration he had in his wealth. "i do not think you will regret it," merrick whispered to the woman, overcome by the passage of expressions that had marked her quick evolution. "i will try hard to make sure you do not."
purpose. goals. tasks. blood.
"this land is yours now," the boy went on. "i will take you to the heart of ursus, however." the plain belonged to his wolves, but the valley was merrick's soul.

The wave of his own tail was mirrored by her own; she was bolstered by the hushed promises, emboldened by the opportunity she had been allowed to take. Rushing headlong into things had never been her sort of thing in the beginning, but with all things there was innate evolution. They all craved structure and substance and she had longed for both.

Simply put, she had wandered long enough. It was time to embrace change.

She followed easily enough, eyes forward. Scarcely a step aside and behind Merrick in a quiet spot of thought. The heart of Ursus.. the jagged rise and outcropping of stones almost out of place in the throat of the valley had to be it, she presumed.

"Is it pretty there, your Ursus? The whole valley seems like it would be a nice place."

"anything you could ever want is there," merrick whispered, dazzled still by the glowing gem of his birthplace. "as a child, you never truly appreciate things, i don't think. but i believe you will adore bearclaw."
it was self-sufficient enough, though merrick had sought to pad his claim by strong markings in the meadow nearby. easthollow was far too close — he would deal with them later — but it did not have the reach of the valley. 
he paused beside the stone, leant against it a moment before continuing on. "i will call everyone together soon." a leer. "it's mostly men here, but they all appear to be into one another."

It was true, that children did not truly appreciate what they had. She felt that deeply, though it was a fleeting thing. Acknowledge and let go, and she let the wind in their wake take it away. Presumably, in pretend, for it would haunt her later where the deepest of dreams would lead her.

She paused with him, catching that sidelong look instead of just what he meant.

"Are they like you?" she wondered, her naivety no doubt shining through. She could picture grizzled creatures who had seen a thing or two. Fierce, fearsome beasts, the sort who seemed cut from stone... or perhaps could cut stone themselves. A silly thing really, but she could not help but ponder the substance that held them together. Yet with only a breath to pause, she realized how her inquiry sounded.

She rephrased: "Are they looking for their purpose too? Like you're all together to help one another." It still seemed off, and her brow furrowed. You know, like, how a pack should be, except she was pretty certain that too was the same thing. Why else would they possibly have interest in one another, right?

merrick grinned wickedly. "they're all like me, in that they're a bit ... off." an island of misfit toys, and he their clown prince. "but yes. we're all seeking our way here. some heal. some fight. others listen to the spirits in the land. we share what we have, and we keep no secrets."
or so he assumed.
she would discover the second meaning of his words soon enough.
"give it time, phoebe," the boy murmured, his jaunty smirk fading to something more wan and matured, for a moment the glimpse of the many traumas that had stamped merrick suddenly visible upon his face. 
"you will hear it in your heart. and when you do, tell me."

A frown crossed her briefly when he mentioned that he was off in some way; she was ever an optimist cloaked in that naivety. She wanted to contest but didn't to let him speak more, to be respectful, and found the premise of Ursus intriguing. No secrets—that suggested that perhaps there were secrets kept out there, and well, it did not shock her by any means. After all, the very things that caused a schism in her own family may as well have been secrets suddenly aired and brought to life in full. The kind that breathed and expelled fire.

"I will," she answered. "I want to hear it, at least."

Another want to the pile; how she wanted simply to belong.

"But I don't think you're... off. You seem like you've been through a lot. That doesn't make you off. It shouldn't, anyway." She had no reason to believe he was off. He did as he was supposed to—he defended his home, the claim he wanted. He rallied others to his cause in exchange for the very things they needed. Wasn't that what her parents had always done?