Barrow Fields D.A.R.E

Having received the promised treatment Kekoa had begun to walk back the way he came. Whatever Phobos had used to treat his wounds must be working - because damn did it sting.

He resisted the urge to scratch at the poultice - it would be much more bothersome if the wounds were left open.

While her diet consisted mostly of fish and other seafood, Chacal decided it would soon be time to take the children and teach them how to hunt large land prey- ideally, deer. Elk and moose would be too formidable, what with rutting season coming up, and while the bucks had grown velvety antlers, she still felt they were a more calculated risk than other ungulates.

She meandered through the meadow, noting the scent of deer in the area. She wondered to herself if Redtail Rise hunted here often- it was within reach of their borders, but she suspected they wouldn't object to a hunt...Especially if they were invited.

More food for thought, for food.

She wrinkled her nose when the scent of something...Not exactly herbal, but distinctly crushed plant and looked around to see if perhaps the deer had begun to scratch at alders with their tines. What she spotted, eventually, was another wolf. And with his approach, the scent became stronger too.

She worked through her memory, trying to pinpoint the plant scent she was picking up on- but couldn't discern what it was.

Above all else, he couldn't help but question the purpose of the fungi that the thin wolf had fed to him. Kekoa knew very little of herbal treatments, but he did know that it made little sense to have ingested something for a small, uninfected flesh wound that would likely heal over in a few days.

However he couldn't complain much; he felt better than ever. Strong, and almost euphoric - the world was beginning to look brighter. He hadn't felt this kind of optimism since before he departed from his home.

His usual tension dissipating, Kekoa settled down in the grass. Staring down at the green underneath his feet his still tail began a slow back-and-forth motion. How was it that grass managed to grow with creatures treading over it so consistently? Did it hurt the grass, he wondered, did the grass have feelings?

The wolf disappeared from sight, sinking down into the tall grass. Wavering slightly, Chacal wondered if the wolf had seen her, and was ducking out of sight, or if he had found an interesting smell to roll in. Like any canine, the prospect of the latter intrigued her.

Forward she crept, attempting to blend her footsteps in with the gentle breeze, the sound of grass swaying, and the rhythmic swish of the wolf's tail. She sniffed, still uncertain about the nature of the plant scent, but certain that it was a treatment she did not yet know. She could smell no fetid stink- and now doubted that the wolf was collecting a scent...But the nature of his behavior piqued her curiosity nonetheless, and she continued to slink forward until she could see him between the swaying strands of grass.

She couldn't see much of him, only what the little gaps between grass stalks allowed. She thought she saw a smear of something green in his fur, indicative of wounds that had been treated. The poultice, still, was not one she recognized and she wondered now if she would even be able to prompt an answer from him given the fact that she did not speak.

She began to move away, slightly disheartened by the realization, no longer conscious about the sound of her own footfalls.

The 'crunch' of grass beneath another's paws drew Kekoa's attention from the.. 'heartfelt' connection he had found. Returning to a stand he looked towards where he assumed the sound hand came from.

Spotting black fur behind the veil of tall greenery he blinked. Before he had made up his mind, his paws had begun to move towards her. Rarely impulsive, the action felt odd - yet he couldn't seem to find a reason to halt.

Initially letting out an unintelligible bark that nearly made the young wolf it came from jump, he spoke. "You're not a bear, are you?"

What a stupid thing to say, he thought. They weren't nearly as big as a bear. Never before had he spoke without thinking - this newfound confidence was difficult to manage.

First one ear flicked back, and then the jackal turned back to regard the stranger curiously as he rose to follow after her. She could see him clearly now; a yearling, shaggy and unkempt, marked with wounds that had apparently been treated with some kind of poultice that still smelled unwelcome and strange.

His behavior was odd; the bark was shrill, more the sound of an adolescent than a young adult...And he seemed surprised by the sound of it himself. Maybe he needed a drink, if his throat was dry. Something about his expression made him look as though he'd just awakened from a deep slumber- and his question, nonsensical, caused her to blink and tilt her head.

She squinted at the implications of being mistaken for a bear. Considering Sapphique's history, the comment was lightly triggering, and caused her to bristle.

She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"You're right.. you're more like a deer." He decided with a firm nod as he looked at the other with a look of pure wonder, eyes barely blinking. "I haven't had deer in a long time you know - but I never liked them very much."

He seemed to be having no trouble with the silence of the other, practically carrying a conversation with himself at this rate. "Not that I would eat you - you're a wolf. I don't think spirits appreciate it when you eat other's." He furrowed his brow at the thought.

His rambles had now paused as he stared blankly to the side, seemingly considering his own words.

Like a deer. Her ears flicked forward, relieved (only slightly) that he might be speaking of spiritual likenesses, though she wasn't terribly impressed that he chose a deer for her. Tall, long limbs, sure, but her spirit? Definitely carnivorous. Silently, she supposed, it would still be better than having a wandering shaman liken her to a bear. She hoped no trace of the cursed creature would ever come to Sapphique again- in spirit or otherwise.

A soft growl was given when he mentioned the edible prospect of being a deer- though he rescinded the comment a moment later. Still suspicious, her ears flicked back slightly, tips pointing toward her hips.

He was too young to be wise enough to be a shaman, she thought. Too young to know the ways of spirits, though he certainly seemed convinced. The way he stared at her wasn't entirely natural, as appreciative as it was. She decided against making any sudden movements, in case the man carried some form of illness along with the injuries he carried; to appease him, she gave him a brief smile, with only the slightest curve of her lips, and a slight shake of her head.

No, spirits did not likely enjoy being eaten.

"I don't know a lot about spirits though - my ma' said they'd eat me in my sleep if I messed up real bad though." He squinted his eyes, shaking his head. He was still on the fence about the whole 'spirit' thing.

It was then that an irritated sting from his wounds briefly brought him back to reality, his hind leg instinctively reaching up to scratch off the poultice that was meant to be treating him. "I've never known medicine to sting so much.." He mumbled.

His attention then snapped back to the stranger. "You know I wouldn't have to deal with it either if this big, old wolf hadn't bit me. No clue why he did it - he even brought me to see his creepy herbalist friend after." Still bothered by the experience, he furrowed a brow. Pepper had certainly put him in his place but that didn't mean he had to admit it.

She drew herself into a seated position as he continued, comfortable in the distance between them that if the wolf had some contagious malady, she might still be able to out-maneuver him. She noted the dilation of his pupils, and with an inhale she caught his breath; something lingered on it, hazy and musty.

A painkiller of sorts, perhaps.

It started to make sense, and the more he went on, the clearer it became that he was under the influence of something. It had been some time since she had toyed with a man; she was tempted to exercise her abilities once more.

Her teeth clicked in reply; yes, he would be eaten in his sleep if he tried anything.

Her eyes sharpened as he regarded her suddenly, as if pulled from a reverie. He'd been bitten, but that much was obvious. It was the treatment that was being pulled yet again into question.

She shrugged, simply. Why should he complain, if the man who had attacked him had seen fit to treat him? It was better than what most got, after a fight.

"They were real close - shooed me away so they could have some little date." He grunted, sitting himself down across from the other. "I've never known two friends to do that sort of thing."

"I can't be too upset though. Whatever they gave me worked." He was still a bit confused by the treatment, but he could admit that much.

"I've never ate a mushroom before - always thought they were dangerous. Guess not though." His rambling seemed to be never-ending, likely the result of an extended period of time alone - along with other factors that were growing to be apparent.

More details came about the wolf who had bitten the nameless rambler, though Chacal busied herself with watching his expression, noting how satisfied he seemed to be as he carried on the conversation. If nothing else, it was a relief that she wasn’t being prompted to speak, or made shy by her unwillingness to do so.

She chuffed softly. He was quite lucky that he’d not been given something with more dire circumstances than a mushroom. He must be gullible, she thought- to have accepted an unknown treatment from the hands of a wolf who had buried his teeth in his flesh.

She stood once he’d finished speaking and shook the grass from her fur, sending it from her like a golden halo before it settled back to the earth. She sniffed again, still trying to suss out what sort of remedy had been used on his wounds, but found no real answer.

It had stung, he’d said; some things did. That didn’t narrow it down any.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t likely figure out what plant had been used on his wounds, she turned her attention away from his physical affliction, and decided for a laugh to experiment and see just how his little trip was going. She flicked her tail in an easy manner, assurance that she meant no harm-

But began to circle him.

Kekoa watched the she-wolf with clear confusion, his head turned to stare at her yet his body did not seem to want to follow.

Trails of gold seemed to follow her, dancing around her paws before dissipating. He couldn't understand it, and in reality the trails were never there. He began to question whether the wolf was a wolf at all.

This thought brought further hallucinations, or in his mind, 'visions', the wolf in front of him contorting into the animals he spoke of before returning to herself - something Kekoa found himself deeply disturbed by. No longer was he finding this to be enjoyable.

His gaze was thickly blurred by the remedy he'd ingested; it made her smile softly to see him buried so deeply within his own consciousness, far away from the physical pain that might otherwise cause him to be vulnerable or mercurial. He watched her, a slight delay in his tracking- indicative that he might be seeing more than what was real.

She began to hum just as his expression began to pale; and twisted and turned gently, twirling lightly on her feet. She centered her gaze on him, however, not willing to allow herself to become dizzy and forget that there was a complete stranger who may yet lash out.

Whether he found the beauty in her gentle lullaby, or found her growing more and more hideous, she did not care.

A sound now entered the mix - a loud hum that hurt his ears. He shook his head towards the ground, letting out a snarl. Returning to his feet he began to stumble away, though not too sure of where he was going.

He needed to get away - he was already tired of seeing such things. It had been a long day, he needed to rest his head. He needed to stop the constant buzzing in his ears and the distortion of his vision.

The sprite would not be shooed away so easily.

He did not receive the siren-song well, and shied away from it- as he well should, she knew. Still- something hungry awakened within her when she was dismissed with a growl, to see him turn away from her.

His footing was loose, the mark of a disoriented state. She sought to keep his world whirling as she danced around him, faster now- punctuated with the percussive snap of her teeth which she aimed loosely toward his ankles, still far enough away that even if he stumbled toward her, she would not graze him.

He had attempted to leave, yet the swirling shades of gold seemed to follow. He was struggling to comprehend such a thing, his delirium only worsening as a rush of heat washed over him accompanied by the need to vomit.

Legs shaking and knees heavy he dropped, head leaning forward to retch. He wasn't sure as to what, but he was desperate to get something up. Anything to stop this; it had started out fine but he was only feeling worse and worse as time went on.

Lifting his paw he began to scratch at the wounds he believed to have been treated, unable to tolerate the sting any longer.