Redhawk Caldera you're starting to look really weird, oh yeah

pinging @Teya for visibility but AW! <3

Many days passed. He fed and watered himself, took a day or two to rest. And then he was off yet again.
He hadn't known what to expect when he fell upon the doorstep of the caldera for the first time since he was but a snot-nosed child. He certainly hadn't anticipated the utter lack of familiarity; everything seemed to be two sizes too small. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, an itch that cannot be scratched, a strangely foreboding feeling; but he continues on, up to a strongly marked border. People still live here, yes; but now, he wasn't sure who.
He hesitates momentarily before he sends up a throaty call. I'm here, bitches.

Dwin had spent the morning with @Maia , chatting about nothing in particular and joking around. It had been a long time, since they had had a chance to have one-on-one time with each other. This interaction made her realize, how very biased and far from truth her own unhappy thoughts had been. And was glad that, even if Maia had known that her daughter had not been entirely happy all summer long, she had not heard her lonely tirades, where Dwin took all of her frustration out on the imaginary mom. Lots of hurtful words had been expressed too and Dwin felt ashamed. 

A call of a stranger on the borders caught her attention. I will get it! she said and took off to, where the visitor was waiting. A young, tall man, draped in an unusual pelt and sunset orange gaze. Dwin did not introduce herself right away. She kept her distance, regarded him for quite a bit, and only, when she deemed him harmless enough for a conversation, did she close the gap between them. 

"Who are you and what do you want?" she asked bluntly, expression serious. Which meant that this girl was a no nonsense person and that the other should provide his answers promptly and to the point. The young man was older than her, taller too, therefore she felt the need to assert that, whether he was the king of the world, prince in exile or a lowly vagabond, she was the one with the upper hand in this situation.

He'd certainly never seen her before.
She is spindly and cloaked in silver, and she meets him with a tempered voice. The stripe that runs down her back tells him Blackthorn near immediately; ah. That made sense.
Despite his urge to snap back at her, he refrains, straightening out his spine and deciding to meet her with a smolder. I'm Peregrine, Peregrine Redhawk, he enunciates the surname with a slight grit to his teeth. This was his family's land as much as it was hers. I used to live here when I was a kid. Who are you?

Peregrine's charm did not impress Dwin the least. His attempt to be attractive and sexy was met with an eye-roll and annoyed sigh, as if Dwin was dealing with these kind of superficial and over-confident in their own uniqueness guys every single day. Not really. But then - with exceptions of Eljay, Bronco and Val - she did not think very highly of men general. The longer Brecheliant was run by strong and independent women, the more convinced she had grown that men in the sense of stronger sex, protectors and bringing home mammoths were simply unnecessary. The best way to prove oneself was not with pretty words or dashing looks (though around age of two and later that would have some effect on her), it was with their honest work. What use was it to boast with the glory and achievements of ancestors, while the offspring himself had done nothing of importance.  Somehow she got a feeling that him naming Redhawk family meant that he was entitled to favours of some kind. This she did not like at all. 

And - while Teya and Maia weren't there - her judgement was all that mattered. "So? Should I treat you as royalty then? The long lost heir that has returned to claim the land of his ancestors?" she asked sarcastically, ignoring his demand to know her name and thus letting him know that she was the one to ask questions here.  Not him. In this particular situation she was the one with a home, while he was nothing more than a vagabond, who thought he was more important in the world than he actually was. And rude too. "Redhawks have not lived here for ages. And you certainly have not been born here or lived here. You are the same age as my sister Sylvie and by then already this place was claimed by Eljay Blackthorn and Redhawks - young and old - had already gone," she pointed out to inconsistencies in is story. "Besides - who else can tell that you are, who you claim to be. I can tell you that I am Finley Blackthorn and this is no more a lie than you claiming Redhawk heritage."

Dwin's views do not reflect my own. She is simply not impressed and very grumpy at the moment.

 

Peregrine felt, in this moment, as if he were one of those trust fund children with oil tycoon parents about to say, do you know who my dad is? Taken aback would be an absolute understatement. Who pissed in her cereal this morning?
Yet again it is hammered into him: he is the lost son, the fuck-up; the disgrace. His heart stammers in his chest. He goes quiet for a good long moment before he begins to stutter out some form of defense.
Look, I don't know what I did to piss you off, but I did live here, sure, it hadn't been for very long, and sure, he had spewed his rage in the direction of everyone who hadn't been his father, but it had been — home. Or something like it. with my dad. Phox. And my aunt Towhee. I just wanted to-- to come home. See who else is here now.

A weakling too. Dwin still had a vivid memory of Sylvie's breakdown and the moment she caught sight of Peregrine faltering, a shadow of dread crossed her expression. It was there for a second and then it was gone. Up until now her cool gaze had been fixated on the young man, her pose had been rigid and the fur along her spine had bristled. To give him a break from the pressure, she looked away and up and took a step back. As much as she did not understand, what he really wanted, she also did not need another panic-attack-stricken mess. 

"Home is not a physical place. It is, where your friends and family live," she told him. "No one, who you named or who knew you, lives here anymore. I met Towhee somewhere out in the wilds, far from here and even that was a long time ago," she said. 

"So, if you wish to find them here - I suggest to seek elsewhere," she added. "If you have nowhere else to go and need a safe place to stay during winter, then tell me good reasons, why should be let in. We have place for people, who value honest work and who respect others. Unfortunately - being a Redhawk does not give you any favours," she told him.

"A person's worth lies not in the grand family name, but in, what they do," she finished and gave him time to speak. 

This woman — girl? — is a bit of a cornball, but admittedly, she is sweet in her own little way. Peregrine notices the apprehension practically seeping from her pores and he decides the best course of action, if he wanted to be let in, was to soften.
My dad is... he hesitates, drawing out the last syllable as his face begins to scrunch with unspoken bitterness. He's better off without me. I don't have anywhere else to go. I'm a mercenary and a naturalist, a shitty fighter with a penchant for mind-altering plants, but he left that part out; if you think you have use for someone like that in your ranks.
Doubt had already begun to sprout inside his stomach, and it grows the longer she stares at him. Should he really be here? No, he didn't belong here, did he, but where else did he have to go? Should he crawl back to Phox and say, oh, sorry, I couldn't strike out on my own again, let me just bum around with you? No. He wasn't a child anymore. He never would be again.

Dwin frowned slightly, when Peregrine started his elevator speech with words about his dad. She did not care, who his dad was, she had asked him to tell, who the hell he was and why should Brecheliant accept him here? In the back of her mind she did realize that even in her thoughts she was harsh on the fellow and that at this moment she was not living up to the second value of her pack that she had listed. Treating others with respect. 

Let it go, Dwin. She thought to herself, sitting down and trying to soften her expression. At least to a degree that the young fellow would feel a bit more comfortable, but not enough to become too confident of his easy acceptance in the ranks. "You do not look much like a mercenary," Dwin remarked, pointing out to his absence of scars. Though she had to admit that having her deceased uncle Bronco as a reference, whose skin had more scars than fur in some places of his body and had lost both ears (?) at some point, was maybe a bit too high. 

She had no confidence in the young man not running away screaming from danger, but they could use help in marking the borders. That was the part of mercenary trade that people did not glorify much about, but it was the job that needed to be done every day. "Yeah, but you can mark borders. The territory is big and more than one bladder is needed to keep the markings fresh. Do you know, how to do that?" she asked him and decided to clarify. "Pee sparingly and mark?" after all that was one area, where boys had to excel. And the way she asked was pretty serious - she was in no way mocking him. 

"Naturalist - how? A healer? A good knowledge of plants? A poisoner?" she urged him to tell more.

She was right; he did not look like much. The months he spent alone had worn him down to almost nothing, and only now was he on the mend. I'm still working on it, came his admittance, ears awkwardly panning out to the sides of his skull. Border marking; yes, he could do that, a seemingly menial task in exchange for shelter through the winter that was about to steamroll the wilds. but if you're asking if I can... pee on things, then yes.
And then came the seemingly inevitable discussion of his botanical knowledge. Toxicologist, he replies simply. I can heal with plants just as well as I can kill with them. that was a valuable skill in some way, right?

she can be skipped for the moment if you like!

It was about then that Maia showed up. She’d needed to come from a ways away and, catching wind that her daughter had things handled, taken a moment to catch her breath. She was still getting back into the swing of, well… Auspex things. And it felt like showing up to a border call heaving and huffing wouldn’t leave the best first impression.

Maia smiled, noting that it seemed Ceridwen seemed to be handling things well, but unease flickered in her at the last statement. It didn’t necessarily… mean anything. But killing? Was that really a skill he felt he needed?

Brecheliant wasn’t a place that needed trouble, especially now. She found herself fervently hoping he didn’t come with any, but she’d wait to interrupt until they’d finished.

The last part made Dwin anxious and suspicious, because being able to kill someone with the help of poison changed things a lot. Up until now she had looked down at this young man, who had not made a great first impression. Now, however, the very idea that he might poison her because of a grudge, made her like and trust him even less. And trust in Dwin's books meant everything. Who was to vouch for this person, who appeared quite normal, not to turn out a psycho killer, who poisoned people to deal with his lack of self-confidence?

Dwin was glad to see Maia join her and thus relieve her of the unpleasant job of making the final decision. After some discussion between the three, the young wolf seemed to realize that for the time being Brecheliant's doors would remain closed to him and that he should seek refuge elsewhere. Still - hours after the meeting had concluded, Dwin walked around with that uneasy feeling of being threatened.