Emberflame Ridge There was a time when I was alone.

Any and all welcome to join!

When the clouds parted to reveal the sun for a time, Sundance stole away from his beloved willows to seek higher ground so that he might better look out over the floodplains below. So much rain had fallen from the heavens in the weeks since his arrival, oftentimes torrential, and that water had to go somewhere.

It clung to the flora, which drooped beneath the weight of its droplets. Sundance thought the wildflower petals looked rather sad as he passed them by, colours muted and leaves yellowed by swollen earth.

He trailed along a worn deer path, out of Seelie territory and onto the rocky outcrop of their neighbouring ridge. The stone was wet and slick, with moss having sprouted in cracks; a quick glance skyward confirmed his suspicion of further precipitation to come in the form of dark, distant cloud. Sundance sighed, and carried on.

He looked out over the marsh to the North, felt dread work it's way into his gut. That land had been particularly damp even at the height of Summer the year prior, so it bothered him to see the ground so swollen even at such vast distance.

While his sister wandered to the southern peaks he stayed closer to the north. Cenric was hesitant to stray too far from the taiga. His worry wasn’t for the whitebark wolves (if they were smart they would’ve fled long ago), but for his younger brother. Célnes assured him Friede wasn’t lying when she said his sibling was with her, but he still had his doubts. He could still be down there, but Cenric had to stay hopeful. The High Elk would protect him.

The Déorwine made his way to the edge of the mountain. He wished to look out upon the land, much like the boy he eventually came across. Unblessed creature is the title bestowed upon him.Despite his unease, he moves closer. 

Hello.

It was a grim sight that lay before him, and Sundance's frown deepened as he cast his powder stare to the shores further North. Would they too swell as the rivers did, overflow like the stagnant pools in the marshland? Fear wove it's way deeper into his being, wrapped its cold hands around his tender heart. He had only just found these sacred lands he'd been born to again, and was entirely unprepared to think of being displaced once more.

He inhaled deep the scent of sodden earth, and as he prepared to exhale in a sigh an unfamiliar voice came from behind. Sundance, suddenly made alert by the other male's approach, gasped instead as he turned sharply to seek the stranger with wide eyes.

They settled on the face of a dark wolf, made entirely of earthen shades. A dark mask swathed the fur of his brow and covered his eyes, noted to be of a fiery hue before the platinum yearling averted his frantic stare. "Oh," he said with a breath of laughter, embarassed at having been startled, "sorry! I thought I was alone up here." 

A soft sway of his tail, then, to accompany the sheepish llittle smile that bloomed on his alabaster muzzle.

He’d never understand wolves like this one. They’re never present, always off in a conjured up world in their minds. These ones were always caught off guard.

Why would you think that? Are these mountains usually uninhabited?

Sundance blinked, flicked his tongue fleetingly between his lips as he lingered there rather awkwardly. He wasn't sure how to answer the stranger's question, which served as a sore reminder of how he'd been so very far from home for too long.

"I guess," he rolled a sterling shoulder, casting a glance upward at the spires that he, as a child, imagined to be Elysium's impenetrable shield. He couldn't understand how any wolf could live contently among the clouds; "the mountains always seemed so lonely."

It won’t be so lonely for much longer. Cenric moved up closer so the two were side by side. There was still distance between them. Wouldn’t want to get too close to the unblessed.

A half-hearted sigh passed through his lips as he looked down upon the valley. Everything’s flooded down there. Wolves are racing to higher ground. He glanced at the boy. Did you come from the taiga?

Sundance, though glad for the distance that this earthen stranger was sure to keep, did not once think that he would done with such racist intent. As far as he was concerned there, they were simply two cautious creatures unknowing of one another, and no concern took root in him as they each cast their gazes over the valley below.

"I did not. I live among the willows," he answered, while his thoughts turned to creatures displaced by flooding. His newest acquaintance had suggested that wolves had lost their homes and sought higher ground, but what of the prey? The other predators? To lose them would upset the balance of their wilds, and worry settled in his gut. "Did you?"

The willows? He’d yet to hear of this place. It couldn’t be anywhere below, not northbound at least. Perhaps it was in the southern region beyond the mountains, or among the mountains themselves.

Yes. Me and my sisters. Well, just one sister now. Fréobearn had gone back to Kingslend to search for any survivors. He prayed for her success, or at the very least her safe return.

We stayed with the Whitebark wolves for a short period of time. Then the rain came and drove us out.

"Yes," he said with the hint of a smile, turning his head to point his snout in the direction of his home, "at the foot of the mountain, just on the other side of this ridge. Seelie Court, led by Lumiya." 

Sundance saw no harm in sharing this information, especially if it meant the faeries could offer shelter to those in need of it. Elysium had been sanctuary to all in its day and, though he was still not certain of the Queen's intentions for her comrades, her kindness toward him was enough to assure him that she would welcome others even temporarily. 

The earthen rogue spoke of his time in the taiga, and concern thrust the sterling yearling's lobes back at the mention of a displaced pack. Whitebark was not known to him, yet he ached for its affected wolves all the same. "I am sorry," the Shakti said, sympathy glistening in his pastel irises, "you all made it out in time?"

It’s a pack in the nook of the mountain, he says. Cenric’s gaze is led to the west. That information would be held somewhere in the vault of his mind along with the other things he’d picked up over the years. This Seelie Court may be of interest to Célnes. 

His eyes returned to the silver boy. Thank you. But he wouldn’t lose any sleep over Whitebark’s demise. The Déorwines escaped, and that’s all that mattered to him.

I believe so. When I returned to see the damage there was only one man left. He’s fine now. Everyone else was gone. Off to greener pastures or hidden beneath the mud perhaps.

He listened quietly, sterling ears thrust forward in eager wait for news of the earthen wolf's packmates. A soft breath of tentative relief passed the silverwhite's lips as his companion suggested that his comrades had survived. They'd splintered as Elysium had following one of nature's dark shifts which was not ideal, but was a far better fate than death.

"I hope you might one day regroup," he offered. Unaware of his family's original intentions to separate from the Whitebark pack, Sundance simply assumed that reuniting with them would be a primary goal. "My name is Sundance, by the way," the druid added with a smile.

The chances of running into the leader’s family were slim to none. They were probably miles and miles away from the taiga by now, and Cenric did not have the urge to chase after them.

Sundance, he hummed. It’s certainly a unique name. No mother in Kingslend would bestow it upon their son. I am Cenric.

And with that, he decided this was an appropriate time to depart. I should be going now, he announced as he backed away. It was a pleasure meeting you.

Swiftly after their introductions were made, the earthy wanderer took a step back. A sterling ear pricked as Cenric voiced his intention to depart, to which the druid felt impartial. He would not have minded if his newest acquaintance chose to linger for a time longer, nor was he disappointed to see him go.

"Good luck to you and yours, Cenric," was all he could offer, as he dipped his pale muzze respectfully in silent farewell.