Broken Antler Fen i don't care if the sun don't shine

assuming some things; tags for reference and/or invitation....tho @Arcturus might be interesting?? :eyes:

he had left @Mal with the assurance that he would return. before they made the big move, however, cam wanted to try one last time to find his alpha's wayward children. he had poured so much of himself into the quest to rescue simmik, and, well, that had turned out to be a bust. so he had all this purpose and nothing for which to use it.

except. . .if he did find them—asmoses, liliana, sullivan, and the like—perhaps he could bring a smile back to mal's face. it was much needed, had been missing for some time.

and his own face could use a smile as well, which came to his muzzle as he approached the fen. the borders smelled of @Ibis, and his tail began to wag enthusiastically at the prospect of seeing his old friend. there were other scents that were vaguely familiar, but hers was quote dominant here. the kids couldn't be here, though. . .right? she would have brought them home.

still, if they were here, they were in good paws. cam lifted his muzzle and called out for whomever was in charge, emerald eyes cutting over the rich, peaty landscape.

not at all in charge, but semi-close to where a thin howl cut through the air, arcturus' ears turned. he fluidly rerouted his path, coming across a wolf of pantherine build and a stature that reminded him of his sisters and his fresh, unburied grief.

no way over a mountain but up; no way past grief but through -- the man's expression tightened as he surveyed the male before him. a warmth lingered in the male's gaze arcturus could not reciprocate -- instead he spoke: "what is your purpose here?"

his excitement faded quickly upon seeing the shadow, and instead, nightmare fell upon him. cam took a step back, then another, feeling chills ripple over his body. he dared not look upon the man's face, his eyes, his teeth—

snapping, biting, driving him back— the mountain had no mercy

you, he managed, punching the word through clenched throat, breathless lungs. y-you're not. . . belatedly, he realized his answer was not suitable to the question, and began to panic further, trying to think. he was all but panting now, sides heaving as he tried not to think of

pain, blinding; blood on his flank

he shook his head quickly. no, cam continued, no. you were on the m-moonspear; you're not supposed t-to b-be. . .

here? alive? well, damn him.

he had come for a friendly face and instead gazed upon the countenance of his worst day, and cam was utterly flummoxed by it.

arcturus did not even recognize cam -- either arcturus was a bad sentinel, or he dealt with too many trespassers. it got to the point where the days and the faces just bled into one. cam's single offense had faded from memory like a hazy mist on a brightening summer morning;.

the male's gait slowed and expression faltered as clear panic replaced the softness in cam's features. to be the progenitor of so ugly an emotion perplexed arcturus -- who believed himself stern, but not at all terrifying.

cam's utterance of moonspear drew arcturus into quiet contemplation. was this possibly one of the many that had come and gone from moonspear? or was he perhaps thinking of someone else, and arcturus just resembled said monster? hydra.

"i seem to have lost your meaning." arcturus replied handily, feeling the pricklings of unease flutter up and down his skin.

it only added insult to injury that the man seemed to have no clue what cam was on about. the worst day of his life, save perhaps the day his mother had died. . .no clue. this man, in each and every one of his nightmares; this man, who should have died upon that blasted mountain; this man, who stood on the borders of a pack inhabited by an old friend—

you! he spat, anger rising in spite of his better judgment. he turned, exposing his rear flank to the sentinel, snarling. the fur had long grown back, but crooked, so that it didn't neatly fall over the skin as the rest of his pelt did. the scar was nestled there—mostly hidden, but still there.

you did this. you and that giant woman—i was a boy, and you chased me down the mountain—you tried to kill me—i fell upon a stick and pierced my leg and nearly died! his eyes were wide, burning, and every hair stood on end. i remember, and yet you've forgotten?!

if it weren't for the promise of seeing ibis, he would have turned around right then and there to continue his search. that being said, he might now have already burned his bridges with this new pack, anyway.

arcturus’ puzzled albeit polite expression fizzled out the moment the boy turned, demonstrating a raze of disorganized fur demarking an old scar.

given, allegedly, by him.

arcturus’ gaze darkened to something cold and pitiless. bit by bit this memory was coming back; of he and hydra (—dead, oh how that hurt) coming down the mountain. he’d been softer then. cam had only earned the mountaineer’s pursuit — in these days, he was much more likely to earn teeth.

how hydra’s words echoed in his head; trespassers do not get mercy.

you trespassed. you are lucky you did not get killed. arcturus countered, feeling a sense of imperfect iciness slip to his heart. it hurt too much to grieve; instead, he would be angry. angry at the world, at his life, at cam for insinuating he was of some evil bent for protecting his home. his chin lifted ever so slightly as he waited for whatever response cam provided.