Sleepy Fox Hollow Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist

for @Taikon
Set for late evening

She had grown tried of remaining within the borders of Sagtannet. Never in her life had she been so restricted, aside from when she had young pups last spring, and it was starting to wear on her nerves. She was restless and tired of feeling weak and like a burden; for someone who found the most comfort in control, being at the mercy of an invisible monster with no real cure other than rest and time was more than difficult. Eating still remained a battle for her, which meant the weight did not come back as quickly as she liked; it was something she might have brought to Mahler's attention had he not been so rightfully preoccupied with his own demons. So instead she had done as she always did: muddle through on her own. She had tried to keep her struggles from her son even, but she wasn't sure she always did a good job. She was afraid he was too much like her and saw what was under the surface of her loved ones masks regardless of how well worn they were. 

When she could finally no longer take being within the borders of her temporary pack's claim one second longer, she found herself wandering far from the spire, down into the wretched hollow that she hated so much. Why did she always end up back in the place full of ghosts and toxic memories? Just walking across the abandoned territory brought her back to those miserable days before she had made the choice to leave. But even then, sickness had grabbed her by the throat and yanked her back—back to the hollow and then back to Mahler and all the things she had tried so hard to forget. 

She drew in a heavy sigh and wandered slowly across the darkened valley; she still knew it well, and she walked the familiar path to the lake, stopping at the water's edge. She paused only briefly before taking a few steps in and taking a seat in the shallow water. Her fiery gaze drifted out over the ripples and followed them until they disappeared somewhere beyond her field of vision. It was quiet and might have been peaceful to someone who wasn't haunted by this place.

Once again, he travelled at night. In the depths of the Hollow, the lone wolf moved through thickets and woods. Having found his path through the mountains, what drove Taikon was to see what lay beyond these grand peaks. Along the way, he had detected several packs of wolves along in path, and he had done his very best to ignore them all.
Taikon had been on his own for over two years. This was, for his kind, a strange thing to desire. The wounds of his past went with him everywhere. Memories poisoned his waking thoughts as much as they did his nightmares. No matter how far he went, he could never seem to escape its terrible grasp. Always, there was a part of him that missed the comfort and security in knowing that things were going to be okay. This was always defeated by the hefty and dispicable reminder that packs meant fascists.
In the low light of the waning moon, the white predator loped toward what he hoped was a destination to the west. He began following the outline of a lake, encouraged by its shimmering surface. The water made him recall the way Cella had looked against such thin moonlight, and he smiled almost imperceptibly. And it was in the middle of this thought that the scent, and visage of a she-wolf broke his mental anguish.
Taikon stopped in mid-step, faltering a moment before standing tall a couple of metres from her. One of his ears turned sideways, listening for any others. He heard nothing. Sniffing at her, Taikon breathed a sigh, as though she had done something to him that greatly annoyed him. The sound a coupled creature might make when confronted by a nag.
Good evening, miss, he said, bowing his head. Tradition, for him, spoke before feelings. Are you okay? He asked this seriously, noticing a general lacklustre appearance to her tall, impressive form.

She was lost in thought and not her usual diligent self, letting the stranger approach without even noticing he was there. The direction of the wind was not helpful either and had probably alerted him to her presence long before she heard his steps approaching as he made his way to her. Her ear flicked as he spoke, and she turned to boldly meet his gaze, her own shrewd as she took in the unknown man. He was large as well and colored similarly save for the places where grey or gold interrupted the white. 

There was a time when she would have questioned him for being so close to her territory, but she had neither the energy nor, if she was being honest, the loyalty to interrogate him. She looked away instead of acknowledging his greeting, her gaze falling back to the water. And his question made a sad smile curve her dark lips. Was she okay? No not really, but to answer truthfully would mean telling a stranger far more than she trusted him to know. Still she expelled a huff of breath and shrugged. I guess that depends on what you mean by okay, she finally answered. Physically, she was mostly okay. But psychologically? She was often the opposite, something she did her best to hide from those around her, most especially those outside her circle of trust. She gave him a curious side eye, her eyebrow raising as she asked: Why?

As the white she-wolf shifted her glance away from him, he stepped a pace closer to her, concerned. Her crude smile gave him no reassurance as to her well-being. However, he was a stranger, like every animal he had met thus far in these parts, and strangers had no bearing on pack wolves. They of course had wonderful families and extended families to care for them and listen to their woes, to feed and guide them, to love them.
...with conditions.
As the she-wolf answered, he listened intently, but she didn't make any sense. To him, you either were or were not okay. To be "not okay" meant you wished for help. Then she asked an even more curious question back at him. Why was he asking?
He stook there idiotically for a moment, looking around him as though passing bat or owl would have an answer to her. When nothing answered, he forced some words after an uncomfortable silence. I don't know, he admitted. He could have told her she looked unwell, but that was just him extrapolating. I'm not really okay, he offered, a glimpse into his vulnerability. Had she been male, such words would never have left his maw.

She knew her answer was confusing, and so she didn't automatically hold it against him the he said nothing in return. She was already looking away again as an awkward silence settled between them; things grew so silent that she thought he might have decided she was not good company and left. His answer finally came as she turned her head to check if he was still there. He didn't know. Why ask then, she wondered. Was it just to have something to say or because she looked like she had missed a few too many meals, and now he was just trying to be polite? If that was the case, his manners were wasted on her; she didn't care about things like that. She stared at him blankly for a few moments for no reason other than she had no idea what to say to that. 

But his next words made concern flicker across her face—just a flash before it was gone. She still watched him, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Well, you're welcome to sit here with me and try to pretend you are okay, she offered, turning her head away again. It's what I was trying to do, she continued, seemingly to the water in front of her. She didn't ask why he wasn't okay because she assumed he wouldn't tell her. She also wasn't sure she could take on anyone else's baggage right now. Between Mahler and his missing son and Sia and his murdered mate, she was emotionally raw, and that was on top of everything that had already been going wrong in her own life. She would, however, not mind his company so long as he didn't expect her to stop sulking on his behalf.

There was something oddly comforting about night. Perhaps part of it was that he could rarely sleep through it without being roused by either his mind or the sounds in the wild, but just the same he was always pleased by the calmness of the darkness. The lake that evening in particular was something special; the glimmer of a quarter moon danced its reflection across the little waves. The lapping of each stroke of water on the shoreline seemed to breathe with the two wolves beside it.
The she-wolf offered to let him sit with her, and he nodded once, deeply. He sat, like a common dog asked by its master. He looked where she did, to the water. He listened to it. He breathed with it. Each exhale, instead of a usual troubled sigh, he felt himself relax ever slowly. Calm took thim.
This time, the silence to him felt natural, for it was hardly silence at all. Bat wings sounded on the wind. Fish grabbed at resting flies at the surface of the water. Rustlings from nocturnal creatures in the trees echoed. The two sat there, and though he wished to know more of her, her presence was for the most part enough.
After a very pleasant moment, he spoke again. I'm Taikon, he said simply. I'm.. sorry if I disturbed you before. It was not right to pry. Only after he was finished speaking did he steal a glance in her direction, just for a moment, before returning his sights to the water ahead.

He accepted her offer and moved to sit next to her. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, the silence falling between them not uncomfortable. She was much too lost in her own thoughts to hear much of the life that surrounded them. She did notice that he seemed to slowly relax, his form losing more of its stiffness the longer they sat there. The cool breeze changed directions and brought ripples of lake water towards them, the tiny waves dissipating around their legs where they sat. 

When he did finally speak, it was to first offer his name, to which she gave a curt nod. At his apology, she shrugged. You did not disturb me, she told him first. Honestly, it was nice to have some kind of distraction from her life for a little while. And it seems logical to ask after someone's well being when they look as thin as I do—prying, yes, but also logical. This had the hint of a teasing look softening her stony expression as she turned her head to look at him again. I am not so easily offended anymore. She used to be quite the hot head, but life seemed to have beaten that out of her. There were still some things that triggered her wrath; nosy strangers was not one of them. 

I am Takiyok, she offered after a small pause, her gaze still on him. She too was interested in knowing more about him, but all the usual questions seemed exhausting; it didn't matter what brought him here or where he was headed. She wanted to know more meaningful things, but she was unsure how or even what to ask. She looked as if she might say more but then she turned away again, eyes watching the ripples as she let silence fall between them once more.

The white she-wolf seemed unbothered, and then told him so. Taikon nodded to her point on it being a logical ask, although he knew that if someone had done the same for him, he would hardly have reacted well. To her point on not being easily offended, he shrugged; the prince wasn't sure if he was easily offended or not. It was rare that anyone had tried to offend him. Usually, he was the one pushing others in a direction past their breaking points.
Takiyok, he thought, and filed the name away for later. Despite meeting few people a second time in the past couple of years, he hadn't lost his charming ability to recall names easily. He made a point to practice this. Hers was a strange name, and he wondered where it originated from. Then again, Taikon had no idea what the background was on his name, only that his surname, Tse, was of a kingly bloodline.
The lapping of the water once more calmed him. Trusting now that this was not some elaborate trick for him to drop his guard, Taikon bent his forelegs beneath him and lay down, shifting his weight to his side. The world seems a little less overwhelming here, I think. Maybe it's just the night air, he observed, looking up at the clouds above the water. It was too overcast to see stars, but somehow knowing that they were there brought him comfort.
I've always been a night owl. What about you? He tossed a quick glance at her before staring back at the water again.

She didn't immediately answer his comment or his question; she was stuck on the feeling 'less overwhelming' part. She felt quite the opposite here, although this moment wasn't too bad. The lake had always been this place's one saving grace, and the company helped some too. She watched the water silently for a few moments before fixing her gaze back on him. Yes; I have never been one to sleep very much, she said, answering his question first. 

Then she paused as if considering whether or not she wanted to say what she was thinking but ultimately, she added: My pack used to claim this territory; I do not have fond memories of it. Tension settled in her jaw as she spoke. But, right now, it does not haunt me so much. Taki looked away, a small smirk pulling up one side of her mouth. It helps to have a distraction, I guess. She gave a shrug of her too-thin shoulders. The night is nice, too. Even if they couldn't see the stars; she was never much of a stargazer anyway.

The ivory she-wolf was pensive, seeming to stray in thought from what he had asked her. Taikon did not take it personally, only wondering what she was so bothered by. Even now, she seemed not right in some way. Perhaps this was just how she was: quiet, without fight, avoidant. How refereshing, he thought, would it be to feel that way all the time? He was, like most perhaps, tired of feeling bad all the time; he was tired of feeling anything.
His gaze shot to her, curious. She had lived here, once. She was a pack animal, suckered into the falsehood of security that was fascism. He listened. Distraction. He beamed.
I was a bit more of a distraction in my younger years, he chuckled, though he was hardly elderly. He believed he had wisdom and experience beyond his years. This was objectively untrue. But tell me, when did your pack move from this place? Taikon wondered. He had purposefully asked when and not why out of respect. Not everyone wished to talk of painful memories; she had only brought up her familiarity with the area, after all.

Her smirk widened some and a small, soft chuckle moved from her chest as he spoke of his younger days. And I was far less agreeable, but I guess life beats us down eventually, She answered with a wistful sigh; it was how she had been feeling lately: beat down. She had gone so long fighting every single battle she was presented with, and now she was just tired. And she wondered if that was also why she was mostly alone. She had family, but that was different. Maybe she would feel more like herself again once she was back to full strength, but she felt like some part of her spirit was irreparably broken. 

Again, she held off answering his question at first; she wasn't one to talk much about things that upset her, but she had brought it up in the first place and he his question wasn't really that prying. Another sigh. Early in the winter, she finally offered. They merged with another pack and I left. There was far more to it than that, but it was way too much to get into with someone she barely knew. I got sick sometime after and now I'm with them again while I get better. Although she still planned to leave and resume the building of her own pack, guilt over leaving her son again made her reconsider everything. For now, she tried not to think too much on it. She would be with them for a while longer still, and she was content to avoid coming to a decision right now. 

And you? she asked, directing the conversation away from her before things got too personal. How long have you been wandering around here?

"Life beats us down," said Takiyok, and Taikon took little heed of it. Old as he was, the years spent away from pack life had given him insular and toxic patterns of thought. It had also, in many ways, sheltered him from the onslaught of social drama. He had only needed a single experience to poison his feelings toward social clans forever.
As the woman spoke, Taikon continued to look out at the water. He used it as a canvas while she told her story, thinking of the waves as rolling snow banks, and of two packs coming together as one. He saw her leaving this large gathering, and his image of her looked strangely forlorn. As she spoke of her illness, her imaginary doppelganger coughed and choked, thinning and circling back to the united wolves. When she stopped speaking, he looked at her, frowning with a mild but very real concern.
Before Taikon could investigate further, she turned it around onto him to seek knowledge on his side of things. Oh, not long, he said, which was true. He furrowed his brow, thinking of what to say that would spare her the cruel details. I came here by chance weeks ago, but I've been on my own for years now. The clarification wounded him, and he felt a nasty shame creep into him. My family disowned me; we did not see eye to eye on things.
An image of Cella flooded him, and he shoved the thought away before it could capture him. Packs are not for me. It was a simple, but very loaded phrase.

She hadn't missed the concern on his face, and she was glad he let her change the subject. She didn't want his concern nor did she really feel like elaborating on anything she had told him. There was way too much there that she was just too exhausted to get into right then. 

It seemed he had been a loner for a long time, maybe most of his life, depending on how old he was. She could understand the draw to that lifestyle, but she knew better than most how having other wolves to depend on could save your life. Pack connections were sometimes a vital part of survival. The social aspect had not always been her strong suit, but only because she was quick to judge and slow to trust. But being on his own for so long...That must be lonely? she pointed out. His comment on his family hit close to home, bringing forth memories of her tyrannical father for the first time in a very long time. She dipped her head. I'm sorry to hear that, she offered first. Perhaps you're better off without them then. She certainly had been. 

As for his distaste for packs, she couldn't really blame him for that either; they were a pain in the ass sometimes. Belonging to a pack automatically fit you with certain obligations—it was just a part of the package and most of the time it seemed worth it. Other times, not so much. Pack life is not always easy, that is for sure. She was curious, though. Is your family the reason for your dislike of them? She turned to study his face as she waited for his answer.

Thank you for kudos! It means a lot :D

Part of him wanted to keep going, to tell Takiyok what had really happened those years ago. She had enough on her plate, and there was zero chance he would ever let such details slip to a complete stranger, no matter how relaxed he felt around her.
Taikon nodded. It was lonely. He hated it. He had hated life in general for so long that he was surprised he was still here at all. Though he was able to get by on his own hunting and scavenging without support, it was others that he depended on for social interaction. Takiyok's company was a welcome change of pace from his usual evenings. She offered him her sympathies, which he appreciated, though it felt awkward for him to admit that his family had hurt him. This was a rare talking point.
Her gaze as she asked for his reasoning was calm, understanding. Under it, he felt okay sharing a piece of himself. It probably started with that, yes, he said. After I left, I found patterns in the way others live. Everyone seems to have different rules and systems of belief, they've all got their own deal, and at the top there's almost always some asshole or other who makes things that way so he can be in power. Stop, he snapped at himself. He did not want to drive her away with his politics.
Sorry. It just frustrates me because my family isn't the only pack that is like that. I've heard stories like mine before, and I wish things were different. Maybe wolves should just be beyond packs at this point, I don't know. They seem to breed misery, he said. There were wars. There were murders over territory. And, there were those who decided who you could and could not love. On his own, at least he was free from fascism. Still miserable, but free to own that misery, at least.
Taikon felt his ears heat up and his heart rate increase, and he looked down in shame. He couldn't bear to look at her face. He didn't like going off on tirades. It felt almost like someone else was taking over when that happened.

ofc!

She chuckled a little at first, not in an insensitive way but in a way that showed she kind of understood where he was coming from. He wasn't completely wrong, either. Yes there are a lot of assholes leading packs and pushing others around, she agreed. But there are also those who just want to create a safe place for family and friends to call home. That was her ultimate goal, if she could ever figure out what she actually wanted. 

And there is no need to apologize, she added. You shouldn't apologize for things that aren't your fault, she added. She rarely apologized for anything—she felt they only served to make the one apologizing feel better or seem more agreeable. Sometimes pack life does make you miserable, I won't disagree there, she continued. But when it's a well run pack with good leaders, the good often outweighs the bad. She was one that saw more benefits in being part of a pack than being lone. Sure there was a unrivaled amount of freedom that went along with being packless. But at what cost?

She could tell this was a difficult and emotional subject for him; she had plenty of her own as well. You don't have to answer anymore of my questions if you don't wish to, she told him quietly, her gaze finding the water as she spoke. To make things even, I'll answer a question of yours—anything you want to know. It was leaving her a little more vulnerable than she liked, but she found she didn't really mind all that much.

Usually, politics had no real place in Taikon's life. He had strong feelings about the way that most packs seemed to be run. He didn't have tactile solutions to these problems, however, which generally meant that even if people agreed with him, they did not want to hear what he had to say.
Takiyok, surprisingly, agreed with him but gave valuable insights to the issue. This was something he had come across only a few times in his life, likely due to him moving around too often to have such conversations. Although Taikon was tempted to interrupt her as she spoke of the desire to build a safety net, he didn't. She told him not to apologize. He nodded once, slowly, unsure. Talking too much was his fault and had lost him many friends.
The good often outweighs the bad, she said, and he had to think for a second, looking away. You're probably right, he relented, though he would need to take apart what she had said later. Taikon had never seen what a "well-run" pack looked like, and questioned the legitimacy of the statement.
Takiyok offered herself up. Taikon looked at her and pricked his ears at the offer, wondering what he should ask. He hadn't realized until now that they had inadvertently started a question battle with one another, taking turns asking tough questions. Anything, huh? He smiled warmly at her, trusting, thinking for a moment. He was mildly curious if she was single, but that question felt boring to him. If you could change anything about your pack, what would it be? Taikon watched her, curious.

Maybe she was right and maybe she wasn't. It was all just her opinion on the matter, which he could take or leave. She just felt like he might be interested in a different way of seeing things. She knew pack life was complicated: you often had to compromise where you wouldn't normally—if you had strong personality, anyway. It wasn't always easy but like she said, the benefits typically outweighed everything else. 

She smiled and gave a strange, sad huff of laughter at his question. He would probably think her answer was strange given what she had just finished telling him. She shifted to study his face, trying to decide if she wanted to tell him the truth. But she had promised, and she felt like he deserved a truthful answer from her after what he had offered to her already. If I could change one thing, it would be to not be a part of it, she told him, shrugging as she watched his expression. Then she proceeded to explain her confusing answer. I told you I left, got sick, and then ended up returning, she started. I had no choice; I would have died otherwise. Now she looked away. There are a lot of...uncomfortable feelings and memories associated with my pack. I left for a very good reason; returning was not a part of my plans. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. But now I'm conflicted about leaving again. She was quiet for a few moments, aware that she was probably making no sense. My son is there—he didn't want to leave with me before, she continued. He's all I really have left and leaving him again— her words fell away. She had said far more than she had planned. It wasn't like her to give someone she barely knew such an intimate look into her thoughts, but it had all weighed so heavily on her mind for so long, and she no one to talk to about it. Sia had his own shit gong on, Mahler was out of the question. That left only her son, and she refused to dump any of this on him; he had been through enough. The decision has tortured me since the second I returned.

He had a thin grin on his face as he watched her carefully; Taikon was quite curious what she would say now that he'd forced her to confront the other side of things. Her answer, however, surprised him. His head jerked lightly in appall and his expression tilted, puzzled.
Takiyok explained that indeed, she felt as though forced to return to the pack due to her illness. On her own, she would surely have perished in such a state. Taikon thought back and wondered if this was the core reason why she had seemed down when he'd first found her. He nodded, listening closely to her tale. You don't want to leave your son, he repeated back to her, nodding again. This was a very understandable reason for feeling conflicted. Where others might have the freedom to romp about and go wherever they pleased, she felt tied to her blood family.
That is torture, he empathized. But, he stopped here for a moment, looking at the ground. The white wolf was unsure if his understanding of the situation was enough to give advice or offer alternate perspective. He didn't like the idea of her living a life that did not feel like her own, however. You want to be with him, but if he knows you are unhappy, why does he insist on staying? This of course, broke the question war they had started. Taikon wanted to find a way for her to live freely, unchained. He frowned.

It wasn't hard for him to see her problem, and she nodded as he agreed that it seemed like torture. But—and then he paused; Taki looked over to watch him curiously, wondering what he was struggling to say. And then he asked why her son would insist that she stay when she was unhappy. She drew in a long breath and released it in a small huff. He doesn't know how I feel about things, she admitted. It would only hurt him to know I was unhappy, and he's dealt with enough in his life—I don't know if I could tell him the truth. She would always protect him from hurt if she could, and this was something she'd rather suffer over alone if it meant keeping Stag happy. He was so happy when I came back, that I haven't had the heart to tell him how much I hate being there; he doesn't even know all the reasons I left in the first place; it's all so complicated. And it might ruin his relationship with Mahler, which she couldn't bear to take from him. 

So, I'm in an impossible situation, she said somewhat despondently. I know I will have to leave eventually, and I dread that day as much as I long for it. She shook her head; it was overwhelmingly confusing to say the least.

Takiyok breathed out a sigh before speaking, admitting that her son in fact did not know how she felt. Taikon found this hard to believe, wondering if the son had noticed that his mother was so troubled. Taikon didn't know her at all and had spotted her unrest practically a mile away. If she was like this often, how could he not know something was amiss?
The she-wolf's deception came from a place of goodness and something that looked like selflessness, but the white male knew better. Forcing your own unhappiness for the sake of others and bottling your insanity was a recipe for eventual disaster. He nodded while she described the joy her son felt upon her return to the pack that she despised. Things started to make more sense as Taikon realized her son knew only a drop of the poison that had pushed her away to begin with. The thought saddened him. He frowned.
It probably feels impossible, but I'm sure that leaving won't wound him so badly if he's at all resilient. I assume you're just waiting for what feels like the right time, he said, saying it less like a question and more like a statement, though he wasn't certain. He looked at her, waiting for her to correct him before continuing. Surely you both deserve to be happy, and surely you can be happy separately? He was shooting in the dark a bit here.
The irony was that his own experience with family had been such a failure that he shouldn't have been speaking to any of Takiyok's troubles. She just seemed like a woman who wanted what was best for her son, but also didn't want to be fucking miserable forever. He sighed, wondering to himself, if she can't be happy, what chance do I have?

sorry for such a long wait! we can wrap this up if you'd like

He was right in one respect: Stag was resilient. How could he not be with everything he had been through? But that was also the reason she hated to put him through more. He is resilient, she agreed. She supposed no amount of worrying or dreading the future would really change the outcome anyway. 

And with his next words, she offered a stiff smile and tilted her head a little. I suppose so; he does for sure. She wasn't so sure about herself. Sure, she would like to be happy—who wouldn't? But that didn't mean she deserved it or would ever find anything other than a constant struggle. 

The night had only grown later as they talked, and she knew she should head home soon. She had appreciated this time away from everything to talk to someone with a different perspective. She drew in a long breath and released it slowly. I should probably head back soon, she told him, shrugging a little. She couldn't hide from her life forever.

Takiyok agreed, though her reaction seemed stiff to him. The sky had grown quite dark. The air had cooled considerably. The she-wolf let out a lengthy sigh. Despite himself, he a yawn threaten in response. He stretched himself and heard a distinct pop in one of his vertebrae.
Taikon nodded slowly. Fair. I suppose you can't escape them forever, he smiled sideways, clearly joking. They had been talking for a surprisingly long time. These sort of interactions were rare for him, but she made it very easy. She had been incredibly open with him in a way that he suspected she often wasn't with strangers. He felt very comfortable with her. She had earned trust with a simple conversation.
He yawned once more. He had nowhere to be, unlike her, but he supposed that the night was as good a time as any to attempt a hunt. Hopefully I'll see you again, Taikon said in earnest. They were nothing alike, yet they looked and spoke together as though siblings. With that, they parted ways. He melted away into the night, and she moved toward her mountain.
It was an encounter he was unlikely to forget soon.