Northstar Vale sand willow

maybe @Bartholomew? >.>

there was a ridge growing rampant with a smattering of tiny lavender flowers. 

tamar descended in the scintillation of early morning light shafting through the emerald trees. it set her redgold pelt to fire as she stooped closer, looking at something caught at the base of a bloom-patch.

tagging @Andrés for reference as he would have told him <3

these days his company was not that of great barbarians and hunters.

it was of the domestic man who carried his own plight of gods. but today he stepped away from the great paladin's side on a quest of his own.

he hoped to find his son.

instead he found the faintest beginning of scents working through the vale. complimented by a hint of lavender. not that bartholomew was a man of flowers but...dove had tended with them before.

his heart hurt more.

then there was fire.

bright and brilliant and breathing. a woman kissed by the sun. his stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots. gaze refused to linger on her, instead it fluttered like a butterfly to where she sniffed at.

blessed day, he offered softly.

there was a voice.

tamar lifted her head sharply, one paw up-tucked as if she were ready to run. he was the color of earthen shadows and distinctly unwolf. like diesel. 

because she had once known a dog, tamar found the initial tension easing somewhat, though she kept her guard high and pale-tan eyes watchful of every movement. "good morning," the epochian responded in kind, mustering a little smile. "are you passing through or is this your home?"

his eyes never met her.

not once going further than the claws on her toes. she was small and seemingly friendly but she was still wolf — and after time with the guardian it was hard to shake some...sense of paranoia regarding feral existence.

it was never a...home. a fond place in a trying time, though. he informed her softly.

have you seen a — boy? man? hardly either, not quite neither. male built like me? paler coat, accented with dark spots. a kind, good boy.

the tension of fatherhood hung in his words.

he continued not to look at her.

tamar found this odd but did not comment. she wanted to tell him of mereo and epoch but his voice stilled her tongue. the desert bloom gave a rueful shake of her head. "i have seen no one who wears spots."

the young wolf shifted toward the stranger somewhat, giving a wave of her tail in peace. "will you tell me how long he has been gone?"

he had not been seen.

his heart clutched, his spirit tainted with another hairline fracture.

i...do not know. he admitted. finally his gaze found hers. she was young, not terribly so but...abraham's age. all the more hurt in his chest.

terrible of me, isn't it?

at last he looked at her.

tamar bit her lip. she shook her head. "i do not know anything about either of you," she said with a quick upward flick of her lips. "so i cannot judge."

the epochian cast her eyes around the vale. "i could help you look for him if you'd like?"

he is your age,

a whisper, despite the suddenness he said it with. a delicate look in his eyes. failure.

he was used to leading others, a shepherd with his flock, but never had he lost his own son. God had though, hadn't he? although it had been knowingly, sent with reason.

bartholomew could not compare himself to such a holy image.

i fear that perhaps he has gone back home — or grown tired of his father.

his features cracked with a weak smile.

does the vale treat you well?

a sudden switch, desperate for relief.

her age; young.

tamar blinked at this and found her own eyes surveying the flowers once more. being reminded of her youth forced the girl to remember that lady ruenna, towhee, and aquene had all fallen pregnant — while she had not.

"why would he be tired of family?" she asked in a half-whisper, but it was time to move on. "i have only just gotten here. there are a few of us, from the canyon south of here where mereo was built. this place we mean to be an allied land."

tamar studied him. a cowl of pain hung around the man. "what is your name, if i could ask?"

he only gave a knowing smile.

perhaps she was too young to know of the wanderlust that drove some men (and women) to depart their birthlands. or perhaps she was older than she looked, she knew of things that the wise knew. the importance of family.

bartholomew, he offered with a brief smile. a softness to his eyes now.

it was easier to look upon her like a daughter.

quite a place for a kingdom to be built. you and yours have picked a good spot.

whatever gloom had been in him was replaced.

tamar saw softness there now and warmed to it. "i am tamar. and i think so, too. it is very beautiful here." she paused. bartholomew had declined her offer to search and she suspected he would turn down her next extension of a proverbial olive branch. 

"i am afraid i do not know my way around, not yet. have you discovered any dangers in the vale?" she chose to keep their speaking light, lest either of them slip back into melancholy.

tamar.

tamar who came with her people to build an extension kingdom asked him for advice. he was...flattered. it reminded him of finer moments in life.

i have not seen direct danger, no. however it seems to be a...desirable spot for wanderers. beware those who might attempt to stop by as they travel through the mountains.

perhaps, he wondered, that was why her original kingdom meant to expand. to further shield themselves from lost outsiders.

tamar felt odd still being upon the ridge.

she stayed as she was however, listening to the man speak. "i believe epoch will be a place for a weary traveler to rest, even if he they do not intend to stay."

it was an allusion for bartholomew himself. tamar scuffed a paw over the flower heads and began to gather the ones that fell. "i hope that you do not feel as if you have to rush away for now." she imagined that kallik and even arsenio would have a different view of the man's presence here, but tamar wished to be kind.

she was kind.

too kind for the barbarians of this world and her soul too soft for the things this land would do to her.

he silently prayed for her.

i am ushered into action by my son. he explained softly, realizing that this might read like outright direction.

perhaps you may escort me out the other side, tell me more of your...epoch.

tamar found herself disappointed.

she had only known those in akashingo. and now she had only known those in mereo. first fiadh, then bartholomew, both contacts to an outside world with which she had grown unfamiliar.

but she would be his guide. tamar smiled and silently invited him to walk with her, back the way she had come along the rise. "epoch is to be a school of sorts. mereo ina. military place. we will be one of philosophy. and i am told, even further south, is a man who lives with his family and has knowledge of healing. i am hopeful to meet him so we will have another alliance."

she had said very much. the girl was silent now.

she spoke of greatness.

of philosophy, of military, and of healing.

a collection of groups that sprawled the mountain it seemed. did they all rule under one? he listened as he followed, tried to understand her words better.

is the goal to claim the whole mountain range? his eyebrow quirked softly, not with judgement or disdain. instead he was merely curious and cautious.

once he had thought the island might be his own claim.

then the willows.

then the vale.

perhaps nowhere was meant to be his in the end.

tamar gently laughed.

"in the flatlands there is a palace called akashingo." she marvelled to discover that thinking of the pharaoh no longer haunted her mind. "it is led by ramesses, who sent germanicus to claim mereo as an outpost. but now mereo is more than that. and germanicus sent us to seek this place, though i do not believe he thinks of the vale as his own."

a pause. they walked. "there were bad wolves in these mountains who attacked many and killed others. there was a war. or what would have been a war. they were chased out and scattered. all that happened after is to keep this from happening again."

she laughed.

he grew pensive. her words loomed in his mind, a great storm cloud. barbarians ran amok and his son was amiss.

his heart ached.

are you religious at all, tamar? is this mereo of yours religious?

tamar shook her head.

"i have my mother's gods." her tone was curious. "but mereo is only focused upon training soldiers. and my husband worships only me."

tamar was astounded at her own daring! she jerked her eyes away and fixed them upon their path.

she spoke crudely, but he offered the barest hint of a smile for it.

there was purity in her unkind words.

it is good you have a husband, tamar. i have met too many young women astray, sides wide with no one to tend to them. perhaps it was not his place to speak such, perhaps it was.

i hope good things for you and your husband — even if we do not share religious grounds, i hope your union is blessed.

there were tears in his eyes, he refused to acknowledge them.

bartholomew spoke of blessings.

he spoke of the women who had no husbands. he called them astray.

tamar did not know the word. but his words of promise; yes; that she knew. and she flushed before him with a trembling relief. ruenna. towhee. aquene. all mothers.

"i am afraid my time will never come," she told the man. she spoke plainly, as he had done.

here they crumbled with each other.

glassy eyes of the sun for him, and her, a trembling willow of truth.

don't rush to it, he whispered. it is the start of something new, of something — his voice hitched, he thought of dove. he thought of love. he thought of marriage.

as frightening and life altering as it is beautiful, tamar, and the arrival of these things goes beyond us.

it comes when least expected, when you have found yourself with no more hope. it is that...faint glimmer in your darkest hour.

the tears spilled from his eyes.

he didn't dare vocalize them.

all of a sudden bartholomew was weeping.

tamar's brow furrowed. she did not think as she descended the short distance and approached him. "you are hurt," she observed, her eyes searching for wounds despite the fact she did not think they were in his pelt.

"i am in training to be a healer. a doctor, like my friend aquene. i think you should stay here, if just for a little while." tamar wanted to urge him. she did not know what had brought the tears, only that they deeply worried her for some reason.

thank you x100 for this thread <333

she was kind.

too kind, too sweet, too welcoming. these lands would chew her up and not dare to spit her free.

she pressed that kindness into him and he felt the sudden need to flee. he had been nothing but awful to the women who had shown such kindness.

she did not need bother with him.

my son, tamar, he told her, strained with his stress.

it would be then he sought to push onward with stilts for legs. hoping he might leave everything behind as he had done time and time again.

<33!

how could he find his son with tears in his eyes?

"epoch will be a friend to you if you return, batholomew."

tamar called the words to his retreating back. she looked helplessly at the flowers, and when she glanced up again, he was gone from sight.