Lost Creek Hollow we all feed on tragedy

AW... most tags for reference. Akavir is looking primarily for Crowfeather or Silvertongue... and he brought Eislyn with him.

When he felt it safe, the man had gathered @Eislyn and left for the hollow. He had promised Silvertongue they would visit—and he had a small report to offer them, should they be interested.

He had given @Arric instructions to keep an eye on things while he was gone—though it went without saying. He hadn’t seen @Jakoul in days now, and idly, he wondered if she was remorseful of what was likely to transpire because of their time together.

Rather than dealing with that, for now, the dark wolf lead the way, his nose to the ground, and as a light wind blew snow around them, he stalked the length of the Riverclan borders, certain this was it by the blend of scent. Tipping his muzzle back, Akavir howled for @Crowfeather—interested in discussing their tentative alliance with the man himself.

The three-legged shadow hurried to the summoning howl. His pace was not slowed until he neared the place where the dark visitor stood. 

Crowfeather had been summoned by name. This must have been one of the wolves from the creek - an ally. The Star stepped into view, paws sinking into the snow. Once he had gotten closer, he confirmed the scent on the man’s coat belonged to their neighbors. 

The tripod was nervous. He gave the man a tentative wag of his tail. Sad honey eyes traced the dark figure. He reminded Crowfeather of Germanicus. Distress spilled into his belly. When he spoke, his voice was lighter than a feather. 

H- Hello.

Eislyn remained silent—something the shadow runner was unused to, and he had to suppress a small smirk. The man that greeted them was an unexpected sight—his champagne eyes swept over him swiftly, taking in three limbs and ensuring his stare did not linger. At the forefront of his mind, Silvertongue had mentioned they were not fighters, the clan wolves, and thus, this only seemed logical to him—not that the man could not learn should he will it.

At the hesitant greeting, Akavir’s stance softened, his shoulder grazing his sister’s before his muzzle dipped down in an act of courtesy to the wolf—for he remained only a visitor. “Hi—My name is Akavir of Swiftcurrent Creek. I promised your Silvertongue that we would be by to meet you sooner than later.” He paused, considering Jakoul—realizing his sister was likely not privvy to that scenario. “My sincerest apologies it took me until now. We had a few matters to tend to.”

Of course, the dark figure breathed out, realizing that he had almost forgotten. Silvertongue had spoken to him, had said that the creek wolves could teach them to fight. The idea had not left him since she had mentioned it. Crowfeather looked the man over with nervous eyes. Akavir looked like he was a fighter. If he was not, he certainly looked like he could hold his own in a brawl. The warriors of Crowfeather’s home would have gawked.

Please, you’re welcome in.

The tripod motioned with his snout that they should follow. He was unopposed to playing the host to their neighbors.

Better than standing out there in the cold, anyway.

Crowfeather’s laugh did little to conceal his anxiousness.

When invited warmly in, Akavir’s gaze shifted for a moment to his sister, muzzle dipping down to nudge her gently on the shoulder. She was quiet, but attentive, and Akavir could appreciate that for now—at least until they had a handle on what their neighbors were truly like. Silvertongue, as far as he could tell, was a far cry different in personality than the humbling man before him, who’s very nature screamed gentle and uncertain.

“Thanks,” he offered, his own tone hushed in a way. He began to follow after the  Riverclan wolf, eyes seeking past the dark man and to his home. “Silvertongue mentioned the want for forming an alliance between our packs—I was hoping to discuss that more, and what expectations Riverclan has.” He paused, his gaze roaming back to the tripod. “I also wanted to let you know we had a recent report of the gang of wolves we had a run in with earlier being around the area—but so far, our scouting endeavors have come up empty handed. It seems like they moved further out… Or, that’s our hope, at least.” He assumed Silvertongue had mentioned the mongrels—perhaps he shouldn’t have.

The tripod led them into a peaceful part of their territory. The trees offered cover from the harsh elements. Water trickled from one of their streams. As they walked, the dark man spoke of the proposed alliance. It had made Crowfeather nervous, when Silvertongue had brought it up to him. He had thought that he wasn’t equipped to negotiate something like that. She had done all the heavy lifting, regarding their relationships with Kvarsheim and Swiftcurrent.

The shadow could only be honest with Akavir.

I don’t know much about these things, I’m afraid, he admitted. I suppose I can tell you what we have to offer and you may decide if that will… serve you well.

Crowfeather turned to face the man, finding a place where they could stop and enjoy the view of their surroundings. Birds chattered from the trees over their heads. The tripod’s honey eyes shifted to the man’s companion, offering an uncertain smile.

We have a good few who know a thing or two about healing. We have many herbs, too. I’ve got several stocks, he began, hoping to start off strong with what Riverclan could provide. If there were dangerous wolves afoot, healers would be a valuable asset.

It was becoming apparent that the wolf before him wasn’t a man of confidence—the quiet of his voice, the stance in which he held and his words chosen. Yet, the honesty about him was what drew Akavir to continue—champagne eyes warm upon the other, thoughtful.

“Where we border close to the mountains and that entrance to our valley, the Creek are able to keep an eye on potential danger and news from those outside areas,” he began, his eyes still fast upon the man—studying for reactions. “But there are ways into the valley north of you, and even south… If you’d like, I can send one or more of our wolves to scout around those areas from time to time, pending weather.”

A perimeter check of sorts. “If Riverclan is bringing herbs and medicines to the table, we are able to bring such things as scouting and guarding.” He paused then, his muzzle tipping lightly in acquiescence. “But I’ll be honest with you—I’m not looking to simply rely on one another just for what we can trade or do—I’m looking to build an alliance in the valley so our families can live in harmony and respect with one another. A shangri-la, if you will.”

Akavir spoke in a way that suggested he had a strong sense of leadership. Crowfeather understood why this man had formed his own pack. In some ways, the dark creek man reminded the tripod of Germanicus. He didn’t like reflecting on this, though he knew it couldn’t be helped. The Imperator had branded the young Star’s heart with a searing mark. Time had healed him, but he still felt the scorch that had been left.

While the creek leader spoke in depth about his wishes for their alliance, Crowfeather listened intently. His eyes did not waver from the other man’s face. He feared that if he looked away, he might miss an important piece of information or a question that required a proper answer. Akavir had scouts and warriors in his mix. He said that they could provide protection from threats that might wander into their claim. Crowfeather was relieved to hear it.

S-Silvertongue mentioned that y-you could possibly teach us to fight, he started. I never learned and I don’t know if you would teach someone- like me. Crowfeather looked to the stump that was his hind leg. But, even if you can’t- I- I think the shangri-la is what I want, as well. Peace and a place for family… Things he had never had before that time.

Is there something… we’re supposed to do? To make it official.

Honey eyes searched Akavir’s face, hoping that this meeting would not leave a poor impression on the man.

His muzzle canted lightly to the sound of the man speaking—the Riverclan leader’s eyes seemed rapt upon him, and Akavir idly wondered if it was that the wolf didn’t trust him—or, if by nature, it was more of his timid mannerism. His eyes drifted to the way Crowfeather remarked at himself, lingering upon the fact three legs was what his vision would meet.

He contemplated that—he had never trained nor battled a wolf on three legs before, but a light frown clouded his visage regardless, mostly in the way the man seemed to so quickly label himself as unteachable in that manner. “I would think anyone could learn some basic maneuvers,” he offered, trying to remain delicate of the topic yet tactful. “My Beta, Arric, would probably also be happy to figure out tactics that would work best for anyone.”

Just as he would, himself.

He was relieved to hear the man’s agreement in terms of the valley—it could remain a rather peaceful and solid place for generations of each pack to remain, if they maintained it properly, and he felt the ease in his shoulders, the hint of a smile tracing his lips. “I trust you’re word, Crowfeather.”


Then, a lick of his lips. Broaching the next topic. "We have little ones coming to the creek closer to the spring. But with no midwife or healer, would it be possible that one of your clan visit to look over the mother?"

Trust.

Crowfeather blushed beneath Akavir’s words.

The subject shifted to the future of the creek. The dark Star listened closely; ears drawn to a point atop his narrow head. They would have children in their home. It was a warm thought. The tripod thought that pups would bring a glowing brightness to the area. It made him sad to think that there may not be any in Riverclan. That aside, he knew that they had several wolves who could assist with the delivery of those children.

Oh, absolutely! I’ll come help, myself. You must be so excited to have pups expected, Crowfeather offered the other man with a smile. His honey eyes glowed brightly upon Akavir.

He found himself considering Crowfeather’s congratulations and kind words more intricately than perhaps acceptable in that moment—and offered a brief smile. It was fortunate news—he just simply was uncertain of what the dynamics of it all held for the future.

“We’re looking forward to some of the excitement it will add to the creek,” he offered, a small laugh given, though his eyes still spoke of his wariness. “I assume Silvertongue told you of the rogues we had problems with when we were first establishing? They were lurking nearby we found out later… Though now, all traces of them seem to be gone.” He paused, his eyes studying the features of the gentle man, knowing this information was relevant to him as well. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if they try to bring trouble again when they’re better healed or established… So, it’s also nerve-wracking to have some little ones around, equally.”

The discussion would become more of a pleasantry in the next few moments, and after a solid talk, the creek wolves were able to return back to their own pack, the beginning of an alliance formed.