Swiftcurrent Creek knows best

@Akavir
referencing the big fight in scents, if that's ok!

she had decided, at some point, that she could go no further today. too tired, too achy. but the land seemed right promising here. a creek winding. scents cluttered too and fro. although some of the scents seemed...concerning, was the word she conjured first. blood dried in the sun some places. not fresh, the only thing that lessened her concern.

but if anything that had done this came for her today, she figured she had lived a good life.

so she began to hum a working song as she settled near the creek. cleaning her fur out by mouth. grooming her hips as if it might help calm the aching of them.

There was a sense of foreboding in the man—it was easy enough to determine why. In their midst, there was a youthful she-wolf who had been all but maimed by their jaws, another, a woman who had begun to tend to them with no questions asked, and then a youthful man who had known and likely been friends with the unsavory crew that Akavir was almost certain would return with a vengeance.

His eyes swept out over the creek—was it worth it?

That was when the silver and aged woman came to view, and he halted his pace. Champagne eyes withheld his weariness—his emotions withdrawing as he maintained to remain unassuming her presence. “Not sure it’s overly safe here, these days,” he offered to her, moving closer.

and i'm afraid i don't have much say in where i stop and start these days.

she laughed, warm and honey toned. purple eyes left her own form to gaze upon the young man. very much looking like something that had been involved with the dried blood.

only he did not speak like he meant her harm.

what's befell your home, young man?

she tapped her tail, inviting him closer.

Akavir considered the woman, for a moment. Assessing her, certainly, but while she presented herself as a breath of fresh air in comparison to the past few days, there was still a lingering suspicion in the swarthy male’s countenance.

She beckoned, though, and he moved closer, pale eyes sweeping over her before looking about the area where the fight had happened—blood, fur and who knew what else.

It wasn’t a welcoming site.

“A trio came along and thought they’d pick a fight,” he offered—it was, after all, the very basics of the story. He paused finally, ushering a soft sigh. “Akavir Mayfair,” he offered in simple greeting. He just wasn’t much of a conversationalist these days.

and spring isn't even here yet!

her voice was filled with a humor that softly bellied up into genuine concern. closer now she could see him better, the tiredness and damage done. it hit at something in her heart.

mother may. she returned before offering a sniff in his direction. tell me you have a healer with you, young mayfair?

The humorous statement did pull the tweak of a smirk to the lips of the shadowed man. He could only be grateful for that—the fancies of spring generally pressed a whole new level of unease in the Mayfair.

Mother May—a fitting name, and yet he almost wondered if she was toying with him in that moment. Her lilac eyes upon him, his own studying her just as curiously, trying to determine her purpose.

“We have… a she-wolf who seems to enjoy the challenge we presented her with our injuries. She’s been tending to us.” He still wasn’t entirely certain of her end goal, other than she seemed purely entertained for the moment by working on them. “Testing her mettle, I suppose.”

there was a kindness to any healer spending supplies as the world turned cold. but perhaps there was a garden here, a medical cache. she knew not what young mayfair and his supposed band had.

do you need an extra hand around here, mayfair?

she was genuine and softening in her gaze upon him.

He could see her wish to help—she wore it plainly upon her facade, and he felt lighter in the relief that perhaps not every wolf coming their way was persistent with trouble. “We do,” he noted, using his words carefully as he shifted his weight. Another sway of his muzzle was given  to indicate the horrors that had endured the last few days was given, though, followed with: “But it’s not safe here. They weren’t the type of wolves to take a beating and not try again.” And, she should know… “We also kept one of theirs behind with us. A young girl… they seemed to be coaching her. She’s in a bad state right now.”

if the scene is anything to go off of...i think you have time. if they come back.

she confessed with a gentle nod of her head. if nobody was in good state, surely a strike again would not be so imminent, no?

your lot must be focused on recovering. this...left behind girl included. she did hope she was left behind. that this was not a hostage situation. but she was no warrior or tactician. she knew not the fine arts of war or such standoffish things. let me handle the day-to-day between resting my bones. and i've already proven i can lend an ear, hm?

“Recovering and recruiting,” he offered, his words quieter then before. He could only hope the elderly woman was right in her assumption that they wouldn’t be back so soon—though, the red-eyed scoundrel had said there were more of them. That was yet to be seen, though.

“Perhaps you can lend an ear to the girl?” He could see why the redhead didn’t see reason from he or Arric—nor desired to listen to either of them. But maybe she would take heart from the more amenable woman.

You know... The one who hadn’t thrown her bestie down a creek.

“Once she heals, I assume she’ll want to make it back to that crowd. Seems like a waste of youth.”

all youth is wasted. she said softly, but the look upon her face was that of understanding. i will see what can be done. but i will not force her, only be there for her.

let us rest while we can.

her head drooped down upon her paws. feeling much of the exhaustion of travel from her way here and paying the price for it.

He would have asked her what she would have done differently in her youth—but the fatigue seemed to weigh heavy on her in the manner she turned to rest. In truth, the fatigue weighed heavily on him, too.

But while she might have found rest when settling down from such weary bones, Akavir settled closer to a lone tree, his stark black frame imposing against it as he took to simply lean back upon the steady post—a watchful eye kept about so the woman could catch rest undisturbed from the chaos that seemed embedded in the creek already.