Redhawk Caldera start over

After witnessing his best friend and the object of his pervert adoration ripped apart by the bear at the Glen, Charles ran and ran and ran and ran. He ran so much that he didn't notice crossing the borders to another pack as the land started to slope up towards some sort of weird-ass half-mountain.

It was as if he was completely off his crackers. Charles' mind couldn't comprehend what he had just seen. The raw power of the violence before him, unlike anything he had ever seen, was mind-blowing, even if it hadn't been wolves important to him. The others who had been there he hadn't known, but they were likely lost anyway. He didn't feel bad for turning around and running. That was the only sane thing anyone could've done!

The coywolf ran and ran and ran — he was good at it, fast, good at running away from his problems — until the scent of wolf suddenly pierced his nostrils. Oh fuck! he shouted as he, distracted by the scents of wolf in his nostrils, tripped over a few loose rocks at that very moment and fell flat on his face halfway up the Caldera.

While he wouldn't dare try and manage the Caldera's slope, he felt comfortable enough at least wandering along the rim of the crater, where he had a clear view of the slope and the territories that surrounded the claimed territory. He'd begun to find it difficult to stay cooped up in the den, and taking short walks had helped to ease some of the pain he felt in the wake of losing both Desdemona and Toad. Meerkat had already left two days ago to return to the Glen, and he found himself wondering how the rest of the pack was coping. 

He paused, though, gazing down the slope to see a familiar figure charging toward the borders, only to amble past them and begin making his way up the Caldera's edge. Bronco could've easily been mistaken for a tawny boulder of the Caldera's rim, and he wasn't about to go and greet Charles halfway even though he wondered if Charles was aware he'd run right into their territory. Their packs were allies- but he wasn't sure how many wolves Charles knew at the Caldera, or if they'd assume he was a stranger. 

He only made it part of the way up before he took quite a tumble, cursing loudly enough for the surprise in his voice to catch Bronco's ears. He chuckled softly. "Charles!" He called out. He'd wait a moment, wanting to make sure his packmate wasn't too badly injured from his faceplant. If he didn't shake himself free of the snow or reply, he'd have to call for someone else to go and investigate; his shoulder was still a bit too sore to manage that slope.

Charles didn't even stop to think that his shout might attract the attention of aforementioned wolves. When he heard someone approach he fully expected them to be coming at him with teeth parted and Charles threw himself to the ground, eyes tightly shut. Only when he heard Bronco's familiar voice did he open his eyes and blink. .. Bronco?! he brought out in dazed confusion. The fact that Bronco was here only further proved that the world was going crazy and fueled his confusion. Why was he here, at Some Pack Near Firefly Glen?

What are you doing here? Charles brought out eventually, his eyes manic and wide and he panted. The exhaustion from running all the way here was only now starting to get to him. He remained on the ground, though lifted his head to look at his friend. He remembered the fleeting thought of Bronco and his other two friends in Firefly Glen as he ran; he remembered thinking that they wouldn't miss him, anyway. It was surreal for a multitude of reasons to run into Bronco, someone he'd never expected to see again when he chose to run, now.

Charles bore several physical markers that expressed just how much stress he was under. On a normal day, the coyote-ish male had a toothy grin and one heck of a side-eye but today, he was panting from exhaustion, but Bronco was certain his short breaths were stress-related as well. The whites of his eyes showed, which was not normal for Charles. Not that he'd ever come across as being a super cool, composed and calm kind of guy- but this...This was something else. He looked like he'd been running from something scary. 

Maybe it was the way he escpaed from grief, and Bronco sighed. No doubt, the Glen wolves were hit hard from the loss of both Toad and Desdemona. No other news had reached them yet, so aside from Meerkat, this was the first packmate Bronco had seen since the turn of the new year. "I came to visit family a couple weeks ago, and," He said, tilting his head forward so that Charles could potentially see the slowly scabbing wounds across his scalp. "Got in a catfight." He thought Niamh had relayed the message that he'd be delayed...Did the Fireflies think he'd abandoned them? This wouldn't go over well- he'd have to find Osiris and explain everything. 

"I can't manage the slope. Come on up and take a break up here with me- you're safe." He called, figuring that he could at least put Charles' worries about trespassing to rest.

Bronco said he had come to visit family, which surprised Charles. He was taken aback completely by the fact that Bronco was here at all. It didn't help that he was under a wallop of both mental and physical stress; it was hard to think clear. And where he had expected to be torn apart, instead he ran into one of his few friends from the pack he had just fled from. It made him wary to think about returning to Firefly Glen. He didn't want to return there. He wanted to stay away forever so he didn't have to think about what he'd just seen. He wanted to cry and hide in someone's shoulder, but the only wolf who'd ever taken that place in his life was Leta. There was no one left now.

Bronco did have a few wounds that Charles didn't notice before, but saw now that they were shown more clearly and pointed out. A cat? Charles' eyes widened in surprise. Bronco suggested Charles come up to take a break here -- where was this? was this Bronco's family's pack? -- and the coywolf nodded feebly. Y-yeah, okay, he agreed after a short break where he tried to process all of the information in his already overexerted mind.

There was something different about Charles, though all Bronco could assume was that perhaps he'd been in the area when the bear had attacked, and perhaps he'd seen Desdemona and Toad...He looked fit enough, and didn't look as though he'd been a part of a fight, but that didn't surprise him. Charles wasn't exactly built to be a warrior, and he wasn't entirely certain Charles had the attitude to join in a fight against a bear anyway. Osiris had placed Charles in the omega rank which might have actually excused Charles from even needing to take part. He wondered if his packmate had been sent to deliver news. 

"I heard," He said, "About Desdemona and Toad...Hydra sent Meerkat to tell us here," He said. It was the only news he'd heard from the Fireflies, but it was grave enough as it was. It pained him to admit out loud that such a thing had even happened, to two of his friends. But Charles- he looked somewhat...Shell-shocked. Bronco lowered his head and squinted a bit. "Charles...You alright?"

The thing was, Charles wasn't alright. He'd never experienced anything like this before. All of his troubles — the weird gay dreams about Osiris, his low rank in the pack, his fear of getting ditched by Leta, the scuffle with his stupid brother — they all seemed pretty small and insignificant now. It was as if he was all the way up in the sky, seeing the grand scheme of things were those things were so much smaller than he thought. It was unimaginable how he had ever even considered those things worries at all. Compared to what he had seen, it was nothing. Everything was nothing. And he was nothing, too; nothing but a puny speck in a cruel world.

The thing was, Charles wasn't very good at feelings. He hadn't ever shared his innermost feelings to anyone, and he wasn't so sure he could do so now. There were a few options. Pretend everything was cool and tell the news as if it was just a small bump in the road, even though this was mind-shatteringly destructive for Charles. Try to tell Bronco what he'd seen but risk losing himself completely in whatever flood wave of feelings might follow. Or...

I... Charles swallowed thickly as his breathing steadied somewhat. Bronco had heard about Desdemona and Toad, yes, but what about Osiris and Leta? The bear, it... He was really trying, but it was hard to get it out of his throat. How could he ever say out loud what had happened? How could he ever say that Osiris and Leta had been brutally murdered? If he said that, it meant that... It meant admitting to himself that it had really happened.

At the first faltering interjection of Charles' voice, Bronco felt the corners of his own lips pulling down, tightening, prepared to fight against an ugly, sad grimace. Charles was most definitely not alright, and Bronco didn't really feel familiar enough with his packmate to move forward and see if he wanted a shoulder to lean on, or if he wanted to talk things out. Different wolves accepted support differently- and he had no idea what he could do for Charles, who looked as though he was on the very edge of falling apart. Something about the distant look in his eyes told Bronco that he was trying very hard to figure out on his own, exactly what he had to say. 

So Bronco nodded, and sighed. This was obviously pretty hard on him. When he mentioned the bear, Bronco squinted a bit; from what he could gauge from his tone, he assumed Charles had been there- and that perhaps he had witnessed his packmates being killed by the bear. Bronco knew none of the details- the horrible gore and shred of flesh- but he knew the grief of losing his close friends. "You saw?" He asked. Given the fact that Charles wasn't torn to shreds himself, he assumed that he- like Meerkat- had avoided participating in the battle, and he didn't begrudge either of them for it. Wolves untrained in the methods of battle would often become more of a liability, in a fight, than a help. "It's OK, Charles, if you're not alright. I wasn't there and I'm not alright about it, either." He confessed, hoping to quell whatever fears Charles might have had, about what he'd seen and been through.

The thing was, Charles himself didn't know what he needed right in that moment. He knew what he wanted — to run, run, run, even Bronco's face was just a reminder of something that almost had been, could've been — but what did he need? Charles had little brain space to think about that as the run run run run run run was still chanting in his head and he felt as though he would burst apart at the seams. He wanted to cry and hide in someone's fur but he knew no one was there for that. There was no one who would do that for him, no one that was like that for him. He was alone in his grief.

When Bronco asked if Charles saw, he nodded, tight-lipped, not sure how to tell Bronco what'd happened. What'd really happened. Charles didn't give a flying fuck about Desdemona or Toad or the fact that they died. He didn't even know them very well at all. But Osiris and Leta — no, that was too much.

He couldn't say it, though. He couldn't tell them. Charles shook his head and he muttered under his breath, No no no no, while he tried to stay calm. While he tried to not freak out. While he tried to tell Bronco what he'd seen.

While he tried his best not to tuck tail and run away again, to somewhere where there really wouldn't be anyone to recognise, anyone to remind him of his former life.

Bronco wasn't sure exactly what Charles was referring to when he spluttered. He was probably in denial and shock, Bronco thought. He looked like as though he was cornered or trapped- incapable of escaping from some sort of snare that terrified him. Bronco wondered if he ought call Fennec- but he wasn't injured. He wasn't sure what a medic could do for Charles, anyway. He wasn't sure what he could do to reassure his packmate, so he did what was his usual default- he drew closer, hoping Charles would let him settle alongside him enough to offer warmth and a bit of support. "I'm sorry," He said softly. Obviously, Charles was extremely upset by what he had seen. "But things will be alright. You can stay here for a bit, if you want. I'll be going back to the Glen once I'm fit to travel," He said. "Do you want me to call one of the leaders here, just to make sure?" He asked, still running on the assumption that it would probably be best if Charles remained in one place while he recovered from his trauma.

When Bronco got closer, Charles huddled close to the ground, shaking, tail tucked between his legs. It might be hard to tell for Bronco that he was more afraid, or differently afraid; he'd already been in a state of panic, after all, and on the outside little more seemed to change except crouching into a ball, as small as he could. Charles however felt afraid at the closeness, for the only closeness that he had experienced in his life was negative first. Always negative first. It was a surprise that he was instead.. hugged? It was hard to savour the positive touch and feel better about it because his mind screamed that this was wrong! He'd done nothing to earn it. He'd not been beat up. He'd not been screamed at.

Bronco said that Charles could stay here, which was pretty outlandish to the coywolf. He didn't know where else to go though, and while he wanted to run away, far away, as far as he could, he knew that he could not just do such a thing. Just like how he'd only come to Moonspear and then Firefly Glen because Leta told him, he gave up and decided to go along with Bronco's plan for now. Yes, he agreed, almost defeatedly so. Charles didn't answer the question about leaders. If Bronco said it was okay for Charles to stay, he trusted his friend. A part of him thought what would happen if the leaders didn't know, found out and would see him. Maybe they would tear him apart. Maybe he'd be with Osiris and Leta then. Or maybe he'd just be a pile of meat and bones. Either way, he wouldn't feel all of this anymore. So it didn't matter much if they knew or not. Maybe the outcome where they didn't know was better, even.

He wasn't used to having someone tremble in close proximity. It made him feel clumsy and ill-placed, so he withdrew from Charles with slow, careful movements so as to avoid spooking him. Maybe he just wasn't a touchy-feely wolf. There was nothing wrong with that. Or perhaps he was still too overwhelmed by the frightening bear attack that he wasn't ready to be close to anyone yet. Whatever the cause- Bronco chose to respect what he interpreted as being signs of discomfort, and give Charles his space. 

He felt fairly certain that the pack leaders would allow Charles a bit of time to stay and rest, considering everything he had been through. Of course, he probably shouldn't have offered- considering that he wasn't a member of the pack, and he had no authority in the situation, but he couldn't see any reason why a sister pack would not take in one of its brethren. So he called out, hoping that one of the leaders might be in the area, and able to come and officially grant Charles permission to spend some time on the Caldera in the wake of the bear attack at the Glen. 

"I think-" He said, sniffing the air. "I think my Mom is close by. She's one of the leaders here," He said quietly.

Bronco distanced himself again. Charles could not help but feel the screaming desire to sink his teeth into something — something of his own, tear at it in anger and scream just so that the screaming would be there like it should be. He fought this desire tooth and nail, not wanting to look the idiot in front of Bronco, while his eyes were still wild and far from their usual self.

Bronco's words barely registered. His mom? Oh, she was a leader. Charles just nodded a strangled nod, finding it too difficult to muster any words; hard to spend any energy not fighting his weirdest deepest desires. He didn't even like, want to, at all. He wanted quiet and calm and relax and forgetting about everything that had happened, all that he had seen. Then why was it screaming at him that this was how it was supposed to go down?

Just going to sort of character-juggle in this post a bit, so this isn't holding up your IC plans :)

Niamh heard her son's call, and huffed slightly to herself. She wasn't too far off, but she was headed in the opposite direction, and with her leg still healing from the injury Kiwi had given her, it took extra effort for her to have to double back to answer Bronco. Still- it was her obligation to respond to pack matters, and this was her son who so rarely called out for her anyway. Given the fact that he was calling from the borders she assumed he'd potentially met a joiner, so she was surprised to see him with someone who smelled vaguely of the Glen. He looked small, vulnerable, and had the spaced-out look of a wolf who'd been traumatized. 

Not surprising, all things considered. Meerkat had informed the Caldera wolves about what had happened, so she wasn't terribly surprised to find another one of them at their borders. She simply hoped he had no more bad news. 

"A friend of yours?" She asked her son, gesturing toward Charles. 
"From the Glen, yes. Things there..." He trailed off. He felt that that implied enough. Is it OK if he stays here for a bit?" He asked. 
It left her with some things to consider. Did this mean that other Glen wolves were abandoning ship because of the bear attack? How many others had scattered? From what she could see, the young man was uninjured- leading her to believe he hadn't been involved in the fight at all. This led her to believe he was potentially cowardly, and that he'd run because he'd been frightened, rather than staying to fight and defend the pack- the way Bronco had defended the Caldera from the cougar. She frowned slightly; he might be dead weight. And there was something coyote-like about his features, and Niamh despised coyotes. Still- if he was a friend of Bronco's...
"Yes. But you're expected to hunt for yourself. You're our guest, for now." She said, with a nod, pausing to see if he made any objections.

When she showed up, there was something judging in her sharp eyes. Charles expected a mother of Bronco's to be pretty chill, but if anything, she reminded him heavily of his own mother. And it wasn't a good thing. He looked away submissively when she spoke, and nodded almost shyly at her commands. He knew he wouldn't be able to make good on any of it — Charles was terrible at hunting, and honestly, he'd mostly gotten by on... Well... On Leta's friendliness. She was the one who'd caught him when he was stealing food from caches all the time in Easthollow, usually, and she was the one who protected him in Firefly Glen.

What would become of him now?

They mustn't find out that he was such a bad hunter, though, and so he merely nodded at Bronco's mother. I won't be long, he promised her. He had no intentions of returning to the Glen, honestly, but... well, right now he just couldn't think ahead too far yet. He'd figure it out along the way.

He seemed quiet, sheepish- but she had to give him some amount of mercy simply because he belonged to a sister pack, and that pack had been through a horrific event. So dutifully as a sister might allow a sibling to lean on her, the Caldera would accept Charles as a temporary guest while he spent some time away from what she assumed was a fairly traumatic place for the time being. He didn't exactly agree to the demand that he hunt for himself- but he nodded slightly, and that was enough. Her one request was that he fed himself, rather than pulling from their own resources and, skittish as he might seem, she expected him to be capable of doing at least that. 

"Very well." She said. A temporary guest he would be in their midst, for the sake of alleviating some of the stress that likely had settled in amongst the Glen wolves. She had no idea if the male had told any of his packmates where he was going- or if he'd even intended to come to the Caldera. She'd never seen him before, and was allowing Bronco to vouch for him. She turned her stern gaze to her son, and gave him a nod. She knew he would be headed back to the Glen sometime soon- perhaps he would take the new male with him when he left. 

"His name's Charles," Bronco spoke, just as he noticed his mother was about to leave. She turned, and gave Charles a steady glance, before she nodded. "Niamh." She said simply, by way of introduction- and turned to limp back along the borders so she could resume her patrol.

Nyoommmmmmm this'll prossibly be the last post from me?

His mother certainly wasn't wasting any time. Bronco had seen Charles hunt before- he'd taken part in pack hunts, and had hunted in small groups- and while they had had a tendency to goof off a bit when it came to smaller hunting parties, he felt certain that Charles would be able to fend for himself while he was in the Caldera. Though it was winter, the entire pack was surviving- at least well enough- on what was accessible to them. Before his mother could stalk off, he introduced Charles by name- though his mother didn't even seem terribly interested in learning that much about him. She had other things to do so- she gave Charles her name, and stalked off, still limping slightly. 

He waited until she was out of earshot. "...She can be a bit...Cold sometimes. If you need to call on one of our leaders...You'd be better off calling for Phox." He explained softly. He didn't want to frighten Charles- but he figured he ought at least warn his friend about his mother's potential dangers. Phox was much more approachable and level-headed. "Our alpha, Towhee, is deaf- so if you need to talk to her, you'll have to either track her down, or call for someone to let her know she's needed." He informed Charles. Basic information regarding the somewhat complicated leadership they had. He didn't even realize that he'd used the word "our" to refer to the leadership, inferring that he was still devoted to them- it was a knee-jerk habit, and he'd been on the Caldera for nearly a month by this point. Potentially a mere slip of the tongue- but potentially also a subconscious confession that he at least in part, considered the Caldera to be his home. "C'mon. Let's find you a place to settle in, an' maybe something to eat." He said, gesturing for Charles to follow him so that they could find a suitable place for him to bunker down while he stayed with the Caldera wolves.

In a group it was a lot easier to pretend to contribute, Charles felt. Hunting completely for himself... He was no good at it. When things got serious he was always confronted with his inabilities and honestly he knew they'd turn him away if they knew about that darkest secret of his - that he was a better scavenger than hunter.

So he lied his way through and Niamh accepted him. Charles, he returned just as she turned away, and then she left them. Bronco explained that she could be cold and Charles nodded at those words. He was in no state to remember all the names and details but nodded through Bronco's words anyway.

He nodded again when Bronco said to find him somewhere to rest and eat. Eating was far from his mind but resting... Yes please. Yes, he said with a nod, happy to avoid thinking about the traumatic events he had seen for now. Bronco deserved to know the truth but Charles just couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. That would somehow make it really true.