Nova Peak he wears the night

all welcome; pinging @Mahler & @Wylla

wintersbane finds them purely by accident.

he expects them to still be at sawtooth spire; his destination until familiar scents mingle with damp earth in the mist laden morn. for the briefest of moments, he contemplates that he was imagining it. despite his tumble into the unforgiving sea, despite his tussle with the ursine beast, despite his brief return to these wilds weeks ago — or perhaps it was months ago; time is a fickle and uncertain beast — he doesn’t suffer any lasting damage to his mind. still; wintersbane starts and approaches the borders that grow stronger upon the base of the mighty peak that breaks from the fog like a titan’s claw.

glacial gaze studies the trees; blueish tinted silverlit nape hairs curling against the junction of his shoulders from the plaguing humidity. a breath is taken; deep. he lifts his muzzle and lets out a howl, unsure how his appearance will be perceived by his once fellow leaders. regardless, sagtannet is his home …all he has left in a world that has ceaselessly and cruelly ripped family and love from him time after time.

A howl that wasn't initially familiar pulled Wylla from the foothills where Mahler rested toward the borders, but when she caught sight of that towering blue-grey bastard, her ire reared its head. Wintersbane. The motherfucker who disappeared on them in the middle of breeding season without a single word, when the pack needed him and his protection most. She was torn as she approached, unimpressed with his disappearing act, but aware that he had founded Sagtannet alongside Mahler. Her leading partner wouldn't approve if she recklessly told him to get lost.

Wylla's bearing was cold and dominant as she appeared through the trees, standing tall and fixing Wintersbane with a pair of aloof yellow eyes. The downward turn of her lips and the general displeasure radiating from her was enough to communicate her feelings. Where Mahler would've just been relieved that he was alive, she was only surprised that he'd returned after abandoning them and doubtful of his value. She'd respected Wintersbane as a fellow leader once. Now, she wasn't sure she should even trust him. Explain yourself, she demanded.

it is wylla that greets him upon sagtannet’s new borders; sunflowered gaze aloof and tail high, snapping a demand for an explanation. the insinuation — perhaps imagined by wintersbane himself — that he, once her equal, the mastermind behind sagtannet’s whole existence, would abandon his own pack was insulting. wintersbane swallows it like the bitter pill it is; understanding stills all of the impulses and indignation that plagued his youth. it quells the fire that once would’ve burned his tongue if not spat into the air to curl like dragon’s breath.

i was the unlucky bastard that came across a bear when i was scouting upon the coast, it felt like ancient history as he speaks it; a tale whose page was yellowed and frayed with age. she attacked and trapped between the cliffs and her claws and teeth — certain death, she rushed me and i slipped. it had not been heroic. his survival was nothing but stupid, stupid luck.

he’d almost met death at the ferocious whims of the ursine, almost broke his body on the jagged cliffside as he plunged, almost been impaled by the pointed rocks that protruded from the seabed like the teeth of a seething leviathan. he almost drown as saltwater filled his nostrils and mouth; stinging.

he almost —

but he didn’t.

i woke up somewhere north of the wilds. i was injured and too weak to try to come back so i stayed with the nomads that nursed me back to health and when i was well enough stayed a bit longer in an effort to repay their generosity.

what wylla chose to make of it, what she chose to think of him was up to her; and wintersbane is left to wonder in the silence that follows if he has lost sagtannet too. if that is the case, he thinks to himself, let it be a quick stab. he was no longer in the business of suffering …or so he tells himself, anyway.

She listened to his story, impassive throughout. She'd worried about him, too, when he never returned. But she'd knownmany wolves in her life who disappeared without saying anything and she was no longer very receptive to the many excuses they had for it. Maegi, Titmouse, Jigsaw, Quellcrist, and Ainhoa, to name a few from Sagtannet alone. For her, it was a difficult thing to forgive nowadays. If Wintersbane had been attacked in the mountains, that would've been one thing. She could've accepted that.

But he wasn't.

What were you doing on the coast instead of in the mountains, where you were needed? He'd mentioned scouting, but what purpose did Sagtannet wolves have scouting on the coast? It was miles and miles from their claim. Almost 150 miles, to be precise. There was nothing of benefit for them there. Without telling anyone, too? she pressed. He'd been needed in the mountains. He was supposed to be their leader and protector. He was supposed to put his pack first, before any personal whim or desire. Wylla felt like he had failed utterly in the only duty he had.

i don't even remember, wintersbane says; truthfully. in the hindsight of nearly dying, or at the very least, avoiding the numerous ways he could've died during that particular trip, the reason why he ventured to the coast was lost. irrelevant. i didn't realize i was meant to spend every single moment upon sawtooth spire. he tells her simply. how many times had the other wolves came and gone at their own leisure without informing anyone? plenty of times. i hadn't expected to be gone long; i didn't see the need in telling anyone. he was a founder of sagtannet; a leader and given that the trip was supposed to be no big deal he didn't exactly feel like he owed an explination.

he wasn't a child to be reprimanded when he didn't act the way it was thought he was meant to.

how many times did mahler visit andraste without telling anyone? he wants to ask; but bites his tongue. the past was dead and buried and that's where wintersbane preferred it stayed.

i'm sorry things happened how they had. none of it had been my intention. i would never abandon my pack. even if she didn't believe him. wylla never struck him as the type to be sympathetic or compromising and he would not be surprised if she turns him away.

Wylla stared blankly at Wintersbane as he gave his reasons. He didn’t think he needed to inform anyone where he was going? He didn’t think he needed to stay close by the pack he led? As the Eisen who had left her home territory only one time since the pack's formation, she felt she had every right to judge him for this. She sternly pointed out, Leaders have a responsibility to their pack first and foremost, and you were supposed to be a leader. There was no reason for you to be so far away from the pack.

Neither Mahler or I have gone so far, not even— Here she stopped. Wintersbane didn’t get to know about Thade. It wasn’t very wise of Wylla to withhold information about her missing son. If she told others, maybe someone would’ve seen him by now. But it was a sore spot and she was convinced that he was dead, and she was loathe to offer any wolf an advantage over her in any way, even if it was absurd of her to even think that knowing she’d lost her son was advantageous to anyone.

Not even when it would’ve benefited us, she finished. Wintersbane said he would never abandon his pack, but in her eyes, he’d done exactly that. Whether he meant to or not didn’t matter to Wylla. By travelling miles from their claim without saying anything, he’d opened himself up to danger that they couldn’t rescue him from. If he’d only stayed in the mountains, none of this would’ve happened. To Wylla, that was as good as walking out on them deliberately. She decided, rather unfairly, that his loyalty was in the wrong place. His whims. His desires. Not his pack.

All the while, she studied his body language. So far, no indication that he acknowledged he was no longer her equal, and this was no longer his pack. It wasn’t helping her opinion. Sagtannet requires loyal wolves who put their pack first, even if it means never straying, she said. Why should I believe you're capable of that now?

i apologize for this short & shoddy reply.

you're right. he doesn't argue; doesn't have it in him to argue. but it’s more of whether you’ll give me a second chance or you won’t. he doesn’t have an answer for her. i’m too tired to try to guess what the right answer is. too tired and too old. if you’re going to dismiss me that’s fine, wylla. then just do it. he would go seek his chances elsewhere. but i wouldn’t be here if i abandoned the pack. abandonment means that i don’t care. if i didn’t care i wouldn’t have came back. at least, that is how logic works in his mind.

There were plenty of reasons beyond caring why a wolf would return to their former pack, most of them selfish, but Wylla chose not to argue the point. It wasn't relevant. Wintersbane knew as well as she did how this was going to conclude. She wasn't a forgiving wolf. Never had been. Second chances were sparingly granted nd usually for a good reason. And Wintersbane simply hadn't given her any reason why he should be eligible for one; his misfortune did not excuse his lack of foresight.

He hadn't bothered to supply a proper answer to her question. He was too tired.

He hadn't bothered to show even a smidge of deference to her rank and right within Sagtannet. Was he too tired for basic respect, too?

Her lips tightened into a thin line. I'm glad you're alive, but there's no place for you here. You need to leave, she told him with a single, punctuating lash of her tail. Mahler would not like this, but she would stand firmly by her decision. Sagtannet did not belong to Wintersbane any longer, and Wylla was tired of wolves failing to answer her questions or show respect on their borders. He was her equal once. He was no longer.

i understand. wintersbane tells her; though disappointed he cannot claim to be all that surprised. for if this was not, even a little bit expected, he wouldn’t have made the contingent plan of seeking asylum among the moonspearians ( again ); unknown as it was whether hydra would take him back. it was worth a try …on both accounts. i wish sagtannet the best of luck. he dips his head to her. with nothing left to say, wintersbane turns to take his leave, telling himself that this is for the best. sagtannet was whatever pitiful remains of andraste's memory he’s clung to; uselessly, he knows. this was a sign that he should finally put it all to rest now.