Qeya River rhodonite

On a dark autumn evening, Darrow came home.

The sun had long set over distant hills ans its light which danced upon the glacier had long become ice again. The air tasted cold, colder than anything the boy had ever felt, and breath billowed from his mouth. Moonlight washed the land in deep shadows. Eyes like frozen stars surveyed the river from behind a ruddy mask.

Adrenaline burned his paws like fire as memories piled back into place. Though veiled in shadows and skeletal from the shifting season, Darrow's gaze lit upon the land with growing intensity. This had to be it, this had to be home! He strummed the ground, drawing closer -

dad's scent, interwoven here -

and it was enough.

He ran past the scent line through the riverland in an eager bid to find him.

He is trespassing; attack on sight is good with me, just nothing to kill him please! <3

As winter’s oppressive fist began to close upon the riverlands, Gideon found it hard to sleep. His fur had yet to completely bloom into a plush winter coat and he was not familiar enough with his packmates to huddle with them for warmth. When the cold bit into his backbone and snaked down between his ribs, there was nothing for it but to get up and get moving.

He followed the same route as always, beginning from the foothills where former denizens had dug numerous dens. He first went northwest into the quiet wind, watching each billowing breath as it was whisked away over his own brow. At the edge of the territory, as he had every night, he stood for several long seconds with his gaze fixed upon the star-speckled horizon into which his father, Sun Eater, and Ksura had vanished.

Gideon then followed the border to the south, feeling his muscles grow more limber as he jogged along. Ordinarily, he would go as far as the marsh before looping back around, only today something was different. Today there was an unfamiliar smell. He lowered his muzzle and brushed his nose and whiskers along the river rocks to confirm it. This was not a Saatsine wolf.

Gideon began to follow the trail, lengthening his stride into a smooth run, and soon enough he found the fellow barreling ahead. Hey! he shouted breathlessly at the backside of the intruder, tails whisking uneasily. Stop right there!

Paws at his hocks, hot breath intercepting Darrow's gait. Boyish - was it one of Wren and Silvertongue's? He skid unto circling halt, sidestepping to keep his balance on the frosted earth.

No - he squinted - a boy unfamiliar. A recruit in his absence. He wouldn't know him, nor the right he had to be here.

I am Darrow, his voice cooled, son of Ash Star and Ksura. And who are you? He mockingly thought. A boy with no claim here - but his judgments remained private, sealed behind lips that only parted to say, where are they?

She followed the children. They were the livelihood of the pack the same as she calves were to the herd. Yet time and time again Meleys had birthed, two pups at the most, all to not survive the test of the long march. Her nephew and Gideon were older. Perhaps they might. 

The phantom stops short just behind and out to the side of their young hunter, her duel-shaded eyes cast hard on the intruding child. 

Sheep killer. Here. Her common was thickly accented. She knew little of it, though enough to get her by when trading to others outside of the clans. Ksura.

The intruder ground to a halt with a curve of his body, forcing Gideon to slam on the brakes to avoid stumbling into him. His forepaws slipped a little on the cold ground so that when he straightened up in front of the other juvenile, it was with a little less dignity than Darrow commanded. Feeling frustrated, he swished his tails side-to-side.

There's no one here with those names, he began, for he knew Ksura only as Sheep Killer and did not know Ash Star at all. She had been torn apart before Gideon ever set foot in the riverlands. You need to—

Before he finished the thought, another Saatsine wolf whom Gideon did not know well caught up to them and answered. She spoke in the same thick accent as Sun Eater and had a lot of the same icy presence, but he found the white half of her face softened her features considerably, which was all it took to warm Gideon to her.

He turned back to Darrow, swallowing the sullen urge to stick out his tongue. He's on a mission, he said. You shouldn't have barged in here, he added unhelpfully, determined to show his older packmate he had been doing something good even though this was apparently Sheep Killer's son.

Panic pierced though Darrow's skin. He leaned on the adrenaline and faced this kid with a challenging stare.

I need to what? He nearly interrupted, but he swallowed his words as eyes blinked from the shadows and another emerged, robed in light and shadow and commanding respect only by her age and the name she carried on her broken tongue.

Sheep Killer. Ksura.

Yes - that's him!

They were here - though Darrow didn't know why mom had changed her name. What was wrong with Ash Star to make her become Sheep Killer instead?

But ah, did it matter? The boy talked again, and Darrow spared him a cursory glance; he could already tell they weren't going to be friends.

This is where I was born, well... almost, this is where I was raised. If anyone didn't have a right to be here, he was looking right at his face. And yet, so maybe he should have been more prudent and waited outside for someone to attend to him - but if he was in the wrong, Darrow wouldn't admit it. 

I'll wait for him to get back, he said with a shrug, will you at least take me to Ash - er, Sheep Killer, then?

Was that such a hard thing to do? He didn't yet understand that his father was the only wolf either one spoke of.

Sorry he's such a butt, thanks for putting up with him ;___; <33

Meleys did not know this boy, Gideon, yet knew him enough as being a wolf of her new clan and as said, a pup being as an importance to the growth of said clan. Meleys was quick to notice how the young lit up to her presence as well. It was not something she had experienced in quite some time, as being thought death-touched in her former clan. She was, surprisingly caught off guard. 

Young guard. She jutted with her nose to Gideon, Yes. She had meant to say 'correct' but did not know this word. 'Yes' worked perfectly fine when speaking to those on her trade routes that did not speak Lanzadoii. He was correct in both stating the man was on mission, as well so that the teenage boy should not have barged in. 

Now, she turns back to the intruder, a dark grey and pale grey eye staring. She didn't understand most of his meaning and yet, did not feel compelled to explain further. Not with her broken speech. It would be Sheep Eater to speak to his son of what had happened to his mother. Alas, Meleys was not here for it anyway. 

Misson. She tried to emphasize. Her eyes sweeping to Gideon and back. Caribou hunter home now. You. Wait out. Sheep Eater come. It was the best that she could do, yet perhaps her young packmate would be able to fill in the gaps. He would wait out along their borders until his father returned. They would need to keep an eye on him until he could be trusted as a hunter among them.