Redhawk Caldera We never really lose them

Only if you have time. I can make AW

Amalia had scented @Killdeer among the borders. And though she had only met him once or twice he had left an impression. Just as they all did, those that left. She didn't blame him, how could she. She herself was flighty and sometimes thoughtless. But it did make her more guarded, jaded even perhaps.

Today she was working through the packlands. Green eyes alight on the border. Stopping to scratch and leave fur, and urine. She was doing her best to help where she could. She hadn't known the wolf that lay interred in the ground. So she felt it important that she pick up whilst the others could not.

She took a moment to breathe in and out. Grief was a funny thing. Sharp and painful at first. But it dulled eventually or maybe you got used to it. She wasn't certain. But she had felt it and knew what it was.

So she understood how those among them felt at least in some semblance. It had not been a parent, but grandparent for her.

He was still lingering near the border, unable—unwilling?—to enter the land in which he'd seen. . .whatever had happened, the other day. It haunted him. Add to that the crushing reality of Bronco's death—and not far in the background, Caracal's—and he wandered somewhat aimlessly, eyes glazed over. Intermittently weeping and staring.

Killdeer was engaged in the latter activity when he caught sight of a dark figure patrolling, marking the border. He squinted slightly and found that said figure was familiar, in a good way, and he mustered a faint smile as he rose to his paws and chuffed in her direction.

Hey, he greeted. His voice was hoarse and cracked on that one word, but warm enough. Amalia, right? It's good to see you.

It wasn't a lie—he'd liked the woman upon his first visit to Brecheliant. Perhaps some company was just what the doctor ordered.

A figure cloaked in a multitude of colors caught her attention. She wasn't certain who it was at first, but she quickly realized only one wolf she knew was that colorful.

A kind smile took her face and she met his gaze with a wag of her tail.

Hiya there Sunflower eyes. She teased him gently with some of the first words she had ever uttered to him.

The nickname sent a bolt of warmth right into his core, and he leaned into it, smiling despite the turmoil in his heart. He meandered toward Amalia, tail swaying.

How've you been? he asked, cocking his head. And hoping that she wouldn't ask the same.

Like. . .she would know, right? That Bronco was dead? And, uh, ghostly?

Killdeer would much rather focus on her. He was grasping onto that possibility with both paws.

He seemed pleased to see her. Ahe liked this. It meant perhaps they were still friends maybe. That he hadn't left b3cause he hated her or something. Which she knew was foolish, but so many left after speaking with her. It felt a bit odd.

She smiled brightly. I think now I'm okay. I wasn't doing well. Tried to run away from myself found out I had been right where I wanted all along. How were your travels?

She felt it to cruel to ask how he was. He had lost his father for goodness sake.

He let her words dissolve, her queries upon him met with a shifting of his shoulders. He'd do. He wasn't keen on unloading upon anyone what he felt.

He was more intrigued about the words she'd offered before inquiring after his welfare.

Are you okay? Killdeer asked, cocking his head. I don't think running away from yourself ever works.

He would know too well.

He listened so nicely. She enjoyed it. She hadn't realized how much she missed having friends near her own age.

She laughed a little bitterly. I know.

Turned to the side to show the scars beneath her fur.

I am okay now, honest. It was touch and go at first. But my head is in a good place now. Truly.

His brows lifted a bit at the sight of her scars. He was sure there was more where that came from, especially within her, in the places no one could see.

I'm glad to hear that, Killer remarked, letting a smile return to his face. And I'm glad you're back.

He nodded down the meandering trail of the border, then tilted his head toward Amalia in invitation. Wanna take a walk? I promise I'll stay on my side of the line, he added cheekily, a glint in his eye.

Amalia wore her scars inside sort of. But she was a wolfess who tended to let things go rather quickly. It just took too much energy to be sad or angry. Part of the reason her father so often called her flighty.

You better. I don't want to have to prove my bite.: she teased back.

She sjifted and steppwd in place with him green eyes aglow.

I'm glad you're back too. You must tell me your favorite thing you saw?::

imma start a fresh one for us if that's okay!

The playfulness was the exact level of buoyancy he needed, and he exaggerated his steps on his side of the border, striding long and slow for a moment so that she'd have to do the same.

Eventually—and really, just a few paces later—he relented.

Oh, that's a tough one, he replied, lips pulling tight in thought. Maybe. . .the waterfall I saw, that was taller than some mountains! It was so high, the water cascading from, like, the clouds. . .

His eyes shimmered as he recalled it, and he found joy in the telling of it, too, watching her reaction.

That is fine with me.

Amalia laughed, but matched his stride. Slow and long. Green eyes alight with mirth.

She listened and have a soft ooh. that sounds amazing. I've always liked waterfalls. The sound, the sight all of it. And sometimes they can so surreal.

Right?! he exclaimed softly in response. Absolutely surreal.

They carried on in animated, joyful conversation for a long while, meandering along the borders, him sharing bits and pieces from his travels. Easier to talk about that than his dead family, after all.

And she was easy to talk to, as well.