Northstar Vale morel support

The good, long nap was ever-so-satisfying. When he awoke, Towhee had wandered off. Probably to go make kissy faces at Maxim or something equally silly. Or maybe she had actual things she was supposed to do around here. Which begged the question: what was Phox's role here? His sister hadn't mentioned anything particular about the pack, but he vaguely remembered that it was meant to be different from Mereo.

Perhaps one of the other locals would know. Phox pushed his front half up, then—after two attempts—managed to get his one back leg under his hips. It was always the most difficult right after he'd woken up. For some reason, this new configuration made his whole back leg go numb when he slept, and it wasn't until he was awake and trying to move around that he regained feeling in it.

He peered around with his one good eye, looking for signs of life or movement.

She bent over her work, studying it with a frown. Another swipe of her paw would take more snow away, and she huffed quietly. Digging out a small storage den hadn’t been on her list of ideal things to do today, but at least it kept her busy, especially given the epic upturn of her life.

The crunch of snow drew her eyes up—honey gaze blinking against the sunlight as it highlighted the snowy terrain. A dark wolf was moving—scouring? And he walked… differently. She didn’t recognize him—and not quite sure she was up for being good company at the very moment, she held very still, wondering if he would simply miss her—like a horrible game of red light, green light.

He actually did miss her the first few times in his sweep. It wasn't until the third or fourth gaze around the meadow that he noticed her outline against the darkening background. Figuring she was one of the locals, he did his little step-step-hop toward her, a toothy grin as his head bobbed dramatically up and down with each stride of his hind leg.

Hullo! he beamed once he was within earshot. I'm Phox, Towhee's brother. Just got here earlier today; trying to meet my fellow... what do you call yourselves? Epochs? Epochians? He raised a brow at this, giving her space to respond.

Towhee hadn't mentioned this particular lady, so Phox could only assume she was already scooped up by one of the other, far-more-eligible bachelors here. Of which he presumed there were dozens, and he had about zero chance with any lady who might be single.

The Redhawk was quickly realizing that dating was going to be hella demoralizing.

He saw her—and began to hobble her way. When he was closer, she realized why—and she instantly felt a pang of regret for even being curious about his walk. Towhee’s brother—she eyed him, her gaze trailing to the place of his missing limb, trying not to be rude… and yet, trying to see if it was something she could assist him with.

“Epochians seems to be the consensus,” she offered, forcing the wisp of a smile to her face. It was hard to be upbeat when her heart felt like a non-existent puddle in her chest. “I’m Meadow… The pack healer. Welcome to Epoch.”


She wasn't even sure if she could be more uninteresting if she tried, and she began to fiddle with the pile of snow before her, unknowingly.

Maybe if he'd been a little bit more like Raven or Sequoia, he could have offered her some advice, because it seemed like she was having a bad day of it. The way her expression strained against her face made it evident that there was something else on her mind, but having only just met her, it seemed rude to pry. He may have been a bachelor on the hunt, but he didn't lack manners.

Instead, he compensated the way he and Towhee always did: with humor.

A healer, huh? Any experience regrowing legs? he asked, using his muzzle to point at his empty hip. He hoped this would both address the elephant (or lack thereof) in the room, and make an attempt to take her mind off whatever might be bothering her.

She was used to Towhee’s humor (as used to it as anyone could be) and so when Phox threw a joke at her about his leg, it didn’t startle her as much as it might have only months prior. She took it was an invitation, leaning over slightly so she could full on stare at it—asking for a miracle was practically giving her permission to inspect it, wasn’t it?

Looking back to him, solemn, she deadpanned: “You can be my test subject, sure,” she offered, testing him—“Always wanted to add ‘mad scientist’ to my resume, so…”

He couldn't quite get a read on whether or not she was being serious. She hadn't cracked a smile, and nothing about her voice screamed that she was joking. Maybe she really could regrow it! Well, so long as there weren't any dire side effects like his dick falling off. Couldn't have that, now could we?

Phox couldn't help but flinch when she stared at the empty spot where his leg used to connect to his body. He might act all comfortable and humorous, but it was a little different having somebody stare at it dead-on. Hell, even he had barely been able to give it a proper look. The void where his leg used to be gave him the heebie-jeebies.

What's the prognosis, doc? he asked, following suit with his somber tone.

The joke fell flat—but she found she hardly minded. It was hard to when she felt so hollow in that very moment.

He stood still, allowing her to inspect. When he asked for her thoughts on it, she chuffed out. “As much as I wish I was a miracle worker, I’m just not.” Just simple ol’ Meadow… Average.

“Is this….” She flushed slightly—uncertain how to actually discuss the elephant in the room. “Something new to you? It looks healed over well.”

Ah, it's all good. I'm not sure I need a miracle. Just a less physically-demanding set of duties. He shrugged. He'd survive. He always had.

He could sense the uneasiness in her question, and he did his best to brush it off. It was weird, and he still wasn't entirely comfortable with it. I don't remember exactly how long ago it happened. It's pretty hazy after I left Mereo to come here and check out the vale for a bit. Next thing I know, there's this strange place, my leg is gone, and food just appears in front of me on occasion. He paused, but his head hurt any time he tried to pull up memories from that timespan.

I think I've been back in the real world for a few days, tops.

She blinked—his story resonating with her on some level. There had been a moment in her own time, where life had felt blurry—as if she had been floating along. Lapses of memory had come and gone, for some of it. “I think… it’s amazing how our minds protect us by… forgetting things,” she offered, a light frown settling over her.

She huffed, pushing at the snow a bit more fiercely, as if she had forgotten before that it had been there. She wanted access to this little storage den she had make-shifted—and next winter, she was fairly certain she would be finding a better solution than this. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a Debbie Downer right now, or whatever they call them,” she offered over her shoulder. “But Towhee’s brother, huh? Must have been interesting growing up together.” Amusement and fondness laced her tone—she needed to check up on the she-wolf soon.

She just didn’t want to be drilled about Reyson right now, when he had left without saying anything after their fight.

Luckily for Meadow, Phox didn't even know who Reyson was, let alone his involvement with the woman who stood in front of him. And maybe, in this case, ignorance really was bliss. Phox found her easy to talk to. Her affinity for healing reminded him of Raven. Some of her coat colors reminded him of Niamh, however twisted her end had been. He reminded himself that she was likely off limits, according to Towhee's answer to his question about single ladies. He planned to look outside the pack for prospects, if he looked at all. The whole dating game sounded exhausting.

Aw, I think you're fine! If anybody's a downer, it's the guy with the missing leg. And Towhee is... a lot more chill than she used to be, believe it or not. She's always been a bit of a pain in my ass, if I'm being honest. But, like, the good kind of pain in the ass—wait, no, that sounds... like... ew. Anyway, we're basically inseparable at this point. Life keeps throwing nonsense at us, and we keep finding each other, so I guess that's nice.

Oh gods, he was rambling.

Sorry, I don't mean to go on. You know Towhee then?

He rambled about his sister—but it was a comfortable kind of talk, allowing her to work away. He spoke of how close they were—inseparable, and she felt that pang of loneliness. No family Meadow, once again—did she even have a boyfriend anymore? She didn’t even know.

Just hanging out, scooping snow, sad and miserable, after running her mouth and endangering her pack… and then yelling at her boyfriend. Life was swell. Just swell.

“She’s hard to miss,” she mused with a small smile, tucking away her thoughts. “Big personality… a lot of fun.” She paused, casting him a sideways glance. “Tends to hurt herself often.” Hopefully that didn’t run in the family…

Phox laughed. Towhee really was a "big personality," and that was putting it lightly. He loved her to a fault, and—in his eyes—she could do no wrong. It was why Niamh had left him, wasn't it? He pushed the thought down, not wanting to remember that time in his life.

Well, that makes two of us, he replied when Meadow mentioned Towhee had a habit of injuring herself. Believe it or not, I can't even see out of my left eye. If you don't believe me, wave a paw in front of it; I won't even notice!

The Redhawk wasn't entirely sure why he was divulging all of his hinderances, but he really couldn't help himself. Something about her just made him want to share.

His laugh was unexpected—but pleasant. For a moment, the silver arrow could appreciate it for what it was—that despite the crummy aspect of life, there was still some humor to be found. The small things in life.

He then confided he was also blind in one eye, and she looked at him, skeptically at first, then shook her muzzle quietly. “You’re on my honor system. I’ll believe you until you take my trust,” she murmured, the conversation perhaps sobering in that aspect. “You’re both pretty resilient, then,” she offered slowly, hoping he didn’t take offense to it.

That sounded... ominous, but Phox let it slide off his back. Yep, somehow we just keep going, even after everything life throws at us. I like to think it's genetic, but—if I'm being honest—I'll bet it's because neither of us wants to stop pestering each other. If I kick the bucket before Towhee, you bet I'm gonna come back and haunt her, he said, punctuating his threat with a ghastly "OOooooOOOOOoooo!"

You from the area? Got family here? he asked, curious to know if she was a native or a transplant. The Teekon Wilds seemed to have a pretty good mix, so he was never too surprised one way or the other. There was plenty of fresh blood to mix in with the new, which was a blessing.

A small smile pressed to her lips at the impersonation of a ghost—absolutely, after talking with him even for a few moments, she could see the two were related—talkative, humorous. Of course, when getting to know another, the familiar question was posed—her family, and she cleared her throat, continuing her task.

“I’m from a forest a little north of here… in the taiga. There was a wildfire….” She paused, holding back a grimace at just how awkward she was. He must have thought her to be the most depressing company. “So, just little ol’ me. Did a lot of traveling and stuff… Now I’m here.”

Phox immediately regretted the question, but how could he have known? Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to drudge up bad memories. It would be like somebody asking where his kids’ mother was. Not exactly a cheery subject, but maybe they all assumed Towhee had birthed all the kids.

What sort of things did you see in your travels? I did a bit of that back when I was younger and more spry. Mostly just wandering aimlessly with no real direction. Been a long time since those days, though. Hopefully that was a smooth enough segue into a new subject. Phox really was trying!

Bemusement flickered across her features at his apology and bringing up bad memories, pointedly looking at him with an arched brow. “Kind of one of those topics everyone always brings up at least once with good intentions,” she offered, shrugging. The same as his missing limb—it was always something that would be a beginning conversation that one endured.

“I lived in a lot of different places,” she offered, disregarding her work of unburying the herbal den from snow for now—a much needed break as she reclined back. “One of my favorite times was when I lived with a pack of… Northener’s, I think they were. They didn’t speak barely any English, but we managed—we settled in the cold, on a mountain. To them that felt cozy, I guess. I was never one for snow but… that felt like home.”

Engi… She lifted a paw, swiping at her cheek, as if pressing away potential tears. A distraction—and of course, there was a lingering question she had. “I think your daughter was looking for you… Fennec? But, I thought she also mentioned Towhee was her mom….” And so, she laid it out, stealing a glance at him—wondering if she had misheard the Mereo woman.

She handled his misstep well enough, and Phox was grateful. He had definitely met some in the past who would be the type to dwell on such a topic, but Meadow seemed to be able to move past it. Phox hoped he could get there with his leg, but the wound was still fresh. (kek)

Meadow went on to explain how she lived in a place where nobody else spoke the same language, and Phox found himself caught up in the story. How difficult that would be! Sure, there were times when Towhee being unable to hear was difficult, but for the most part, she'd always made it work. He supposed it would be possible with somebody who couldn't speak the same language, too. Perhaps they could even make up a "hybrid" language much like the ptero that Towhee had taught so many others.

Ah, Fennec! he remarked. He didn't have a favorite child, but Fennec might have been one of many of his favorites. It took a moment for Phox to catch onto what Meadow was asking, and he laughed. Fennec's birth mother died shortly after she was born, so Towhee helped me raise her and her brother, Figment. Phox truly hoped Fig was out there living his best life, along with all his other children: Alyx, Quetzal, Vesper, Prevost, and Peregrine.

Fennec—Towhee was considered her mother, but purely through adoption. Because, of course, it was Meadow’s turn to put her foot in her mouth, and her eyes widened, apologetic. “Oh, shoot. I’m sorry! I guess it’s my turn to dredge up bad feelings. I can’t believe I just…” she trailed off, catching herself babbling, and then huffing out softly.

“Shit,” she huffed, a small laugh escaping her as she tilted her head back, looking heavenward. If she could just disappear into the ground, that would've been A+. “This is such a depressing conversation. I promise I’m not always such a downer.”

Oh no! I promise it's okay. It was a very long time ago, and I've had a lot of time to heal from her death, sudden as it was. He'd even had time to heal from the death of his second wife. Phox was still fairly certain he was cursed, but he really didn't want to bring the (increasingly apologetic) conversation down any further. Niamh's death still stung in a different way from Camilla's, simply because they had been together longer, and they hadn't been able to reconcile.

He felt the conversation lull there, and Phox shifted from one front foot to the other—something he found himself doing more often since the loss of his rear one. Do you need any help with—healing stuff? Is there anything I could do to help? Like finding plants or specific prey or anything like that? he asked.

Fade with your next post? <3

A small laugh escaped her—maybe inappropriate, mostly brought on by the wave of emotion she held onto and stress. Still, she tried to usher out a low breath, relaxing, before she stood up, giving her pelt a shake. He asked if she needed help, and she gave a nod, dainty figure sidling past him, a glance given over her shoulder as she quietly encouraged him to follow her. “I never turn down help. For now, want to just walk with me? I can show you around some, maybe, and tell you about a few of the plants I want the most.”

Sounds like a plan to me, he said. Even with his odd, three-legged gait, he hoped they could have a nice little walk. It was good to be back from whatever hell he'd lived through and here in the wilds again.