Wheeling Gull Isle left his mark

AW, tagged if you have time for a thread!

The children remained with Maegi while their father roamed the beach. He had not seen anything of great value wash upon the shore but could not pull himself away. The tide came in, the tide went out.

Hours were spent traipsing across the exposed stone or pawing through the fine wet gravel, the soggy green masses left behind. Shell-shrapnel. Mou paused long enough to watch a heron soar over the white caps of the waves, casting a prehistoric silhouette that he followed with his one eye until he lost sight of it.

With his head bowed Mou investigated a few depressions in the sand. He nosed some larger pieces of stone around and watched at tiny crabs scurried for new shelter.

When the wind changed direction the strong ocean smell was drawn away from him and instead he found the warm aroma of @Aiolos; but when Mou looked up and around, he could not discern where the man was.

There was a stillness now, a quiet he had not felt here in some time. The Neverwinter forest wolves had all but dismissed themselves- Aibreann, Tuathal, and the life of Cam entirely. The pain which Mal suffered seemed to follow him still and he, along with his pups and Hua, had kept to themselves. Then those which had come and lived here before, Aiolos searched, called, but did not find. Drifter, Wylla and her ward, Andromaque, the wolf-dog Elixir, and of course any and all family of Hua savor a few of her own pups all together.

The winds were changing. Members came and went as they always had. The coming a Spring brought out what Winter had kept close and those wishing for adventure or to create family and pack of their own were gone.

Aiolos takes a heavy breath and paws at the rocky outcrops of the eastern coast before moving down towards the waters. He sees Mou there and woofs in wordless greeting.

The man moved like a prideful lion across the expanse of his domain, which Mou appreciated. He hadn't ever been the kind of person to get involved in politics and so, he had only a limited understanding of what leadership was like; his one experience had been at the Hollow which burned to the ground. That had been small, tight-knit, and temporary. It felt right to be an underling, or so Mou believed of himself, and he was glad to have someone like Aiolos at the helm instead.

When the man barked a greeting, Mou chuffed in response. He had meant to return a bark of his own but in that moment the breath in his throat failed, so it came out as something wheezy. The observer dipped his head in a little nod and licked his lips to show his submission and acceptance of Aiolos.

There is a glow to Mou's remaining eye, an alertness, which trains upon the ginger man. The ghost wants to say something substantial. He has a question to ask, plans that have been brewing in that tactical mind of his, but he cannot quite broach the subject out of the blue. The expectant look is one Maegi is used to; she is the only one patient enough to accept the process of a conversation with Mou, at least so far.

A lion. Aiolos would have been happy to know of Mou's thoughts of him. It would have reminded him of Ruo and how she said he was like Lion, Leo, the constellation of stars burning bright.

The sight of the collared, one-eyed wolf was a pleasant one. He was a quiet wolf and they could stride the outskirts of the territory, watching for visitors on the sandbar and bringing up prey inland from the tide pools without trying to force small talk. A time before Aiolos would have only shown dominance and agression to Mou as he fought to be seen amongst the women in his lowly state of man. Now, things had become far different for the once Greek slave.

Mou's raspy chuff and maw lick responded a proud yet playful pawing at the air and stomp of his foot then into the sands. Mou's deep orange eye is fixed upon him, attentive, watching and waiting. Aiolos ginger ears perk high, questioning. What's on your mind? He wonders of his guardian. Perhaps he had news of the pups progress, maybe a hunting opportunity was just around the corner for some larger game. Maybe another visitor from the mainland? He listens and waits.

There was much on Mou's mind, although it was the exposition of his thoughts that would remain a problem. He wanted to speak of his connection to Niamh in detail; to the Redhawk blood in his veins; the history of antagonism between the dark woods and the caldera - but when prompted, he could not think of where to start.

He is quiet a few minutes longer, thinking, collecting bits and pieces. Always the sombre creature these days, so far removed from the chaos of his youth.

The Redhawks. He starts to say, then hesitates. They will want the children. And by all rights of the wild, they were entitled. If they come, can we protect? they were small in number now. Mou remembered the battle years ago for the plateau - vaguely - and did not want to see their forces muster.

They are warmongers. In the sense that, they had brought war to Maegi's family, and to Heron Lake, and would likely do so again given the chance.

There was still some lingering moments as the man before him gathers his thoughts, debating how he might say them aloud likely to be concise, given his lack of speech that had obviously stemmed from a torn up throat. Aiolos himself had been lucky he had not endured damage to his vocals from the wound given to him by The Saints warlord. Still, the scarred up area under fine, short hairs was sensitive, his neck sore on winter days. He could only imagine how Mou might have felt of it.

When he speaks then he speaks of the Redhawks, those of the Caldera. How that, when they found out of the pups, there was no doubt in Mou's mind that they would come to claim them by force should Yuelong be unwilling to hand them over.

We could fight. He began, a grim expression forming over his features as he turns away and looks out to Sea. But we would fail. That so much was a given too, just as much so that the Redhawks would come for them. Aiolos didnt know their numbers, did not know their allies, but he did know that their own numbers were small, the majority of their allies dead and gone. There was little of them left from an era long passed now. Its not easy to say Yuelong is not what it once was, but I can acknowledge that fact...

We could fight, Aiolos said; what came next did not surprise Mou, though.
We would fail.

But did that mean they should not even try? If Phox were to learn the truth, and he were anything like Mou (as he would suspect until he knew him better) then he would do anything to correct the wrong done to him. He would do anything to protect the children that were of his blood, and the blood of his beloved. Even if they were safe now the children would not be for long, not if the truth got out.

Mou was still unsure. He wanted to go to Phox immediately to tell him — throw himself to the wolves, so to speak, — it would have given Maegi a chance to escape with Blueberry at least. Could he do that, in truth? Could he sacrifice himself to the rage of the Redhawks to save his only daughter?

It was all too fantastic; Mou had to pull himself back from the heavy thoughts and tell himself, nothing has happened yet, and we are safe, they are safe, do not get worked up.

What will we do, he asks slowly, as Aiolos had gone quiet again.
—if Yuelong falls?

Mou's question was lingering, Aiolos letting the silence dramatically linger a moment longer as he sighs, lifting his head higher to look out to the open ocean. Stoic af. We will move on. That much was obvious, despite how much so Aiolos did not want to.

If Yuelong fell, it would be dangerous for just the few of them to try and protect the pups their own, especially if at that given time they had an enemy breathing down their necks. Separating themselves between guarding the pups, hunting and resting left more and more room for mistakes when there was so little of them. As it were now, Mal, Hua and some of their older pups still remained, but for how long?

I know a place we could call our new home, if it comes to that. He insured his subordinate, certain that Kukutux would offer them place within their ranks should Yuelong drift with the tides. The pups won't go without. He turns to Mou, a smile on his lips, to ensure the man that Aiolos wasn't giving up on any of them.