Ocean's Breath Plateau My hair is the color of cheetos right now, and I will take no questions.

He returned from his time away without fanfare, and only stopped by his father's lodge to briefly, quickly, lay out a few gifts there, and be on his way. It was not avoidance; Raiyuk loved his father and their family. He knew their life was a busy one, and beyond that he was accustomed now to bachelor life. It suited him to be quick about it, and so he was.

The man stopped at his own lodge not far off, and found it occupied, and so without consequence Raiyuk moved on. He journeyed through the village and when he saw those he recognized or who gave him friendly glances, he returned them.

His last stop was the infirmary. There were a few things he had been given which would best be put to use here, and so Raiyuk brought a bundle and settled for careful observation.

It was here he noticed the elder, @Aditya.

his blurred vision brought to mind young kitimat, and it took a few blinks before the figure coalesced into what he really was—a young man, muscled and fit, eyes keen upon what he saw before him.

not kitimat.

yes? aditya asked, his voice escaping as a croak with misuse. he cleared his throat and tried his best to come to a more dignified position. eventually, he sat sphinx-like before this yearling, owlish golden eyes cutting into his visitor.

what brings you here?

The elder studied his face. He felt it more than he saw, but when he spared a few glances, he did see the way the man watched him. Raiyuk ducked his head a few times, obeisance shown through several quick bows, which was a habit he'd somehow picked up on the road. On the last quick-drop of his head, he grabbed for the bundle and offered it up.

This was opened, as it was a section of animal skin which had been dried by someone with more knowledge, and the twine that kept it bound was cut with his teeth. Unfurling before Aditya would be a selection of mysterious flowers (dried, mostly), a stalk or two of sugar-cane, a hare's foot (not to be confused with a rabbit's foot, size matters), and various smooth stones.

Apologies for the disturbance. He was quick to say, and as he nosed at a few of the more unruly plants which did not want to lay flat, Raiyuk explained, —I was given all of these things in my travels, but I don't know what to do with them. Perhaps they are nothing of worth. Do you recognize anything? By scent, if that is easier, he wanted to add, but thought it would be rude.

The young man's attention remained divided between the bundle, the elder, the path he had come from, and whatever troubles followed him in off the road.

his brows drew together in concentration as he purused the young man's wares. plants, more plants—he'd never been an herbalist—and the foot of a—

rabbit paw, adi murmured, pressing the thing with his muzzle. some say it's good luck.

he pulled away and shook his head, giving the wolf a sympathetic look. i'm sorry, bachcha—i've never been good with plants, he explained. if you find a healer, they might help you more.

with a sigh, he let his muzzle fall upon his forepaws once more, gaze drifting far from the current scene.

His brow furrowed in a way that might've meant frustration, but he was only concentrating while the elder man did his study of the objects. When the answer came — that there was little known — he was not bothered, and in fact appeared to relax considerably. It was good enough that nothing appeared nefarious in nature.

Thank you for looking, I appreciate it. He remarks, and begins tucking the objects and the plants back together in the bundle. This proved to be difficult given that Raiyuk had severed the twine and could not magically undo the damage, so the bushel ended up being a very untidy pile of things wrapped in the dried skins.

It was in this moment that the young man let out a somewhat dejected sigh and seemed to resign himself to defeat, plopping to his haunches, with a faraway look upon his face.

his once-over seemed pleasing, but then the young man sagged and sank to his belly, and aditya looked upon him with weary concern.

what's wrong, bachcha? he asked, mouth quirking in a frown. 

it seemed so many of the moontide wolves felt the same these days—powerless against the winds of fate, and of whatever was stealing their youngsters from them. 

i'm all ears, aditya reminded the other, though he stifled a yawn in the process. it was tough being the voice of reason when said voice was hoarse, and the accompanying ears were bordering on deaf.

Having only returned to the village most recently, Raiyuk was out of the loop on many topics. In his passing he had seen very little had changed.

Nothing is wrong, he began, and smiled to the elder, but his mind remained elsewhere. He takes a breath again to help focus. I suppose I am a little weary. I have traveled many places now, and usually when I return home, such as to the lodge of my father... it feels right.

He gave a shrug. I don't know. The village never seems to change. That is good! It is a good place. Perhaps I have been feeling differently. How many places had he traveled now? People he's met? Beasts hunted?

Why wasn't it enough?

he knew that face well, and stretched out a forepaw in empathy to rest near, if not on, the other's.

traveling changes you, aditya explained. even if nothing else changes, your heart and mind are not the same as they once were.

he felt a painful twinge in that limb and drew it back, sucking in a hissing breath before he continued, voice quieter than before. it's not always a bad thing, the elder told raiyuk with an infinitesimal shrug. just all part of growing older.

so long ago were his yearling days that he scarcely remembered—but the feeling remained within him, if buried deeply.

He mused a moment in silence, absorbing what the elder said.
Maybe that's all it is.

Looking over the different items that had been given to him, Raiyuk found himself smiling softly down at the stones, and the sugar-cane, as he remembered the people that he'd met. Did you know there's whole families that live on the ice together? No lodges. No villages. They sleep beneath the stars each night and move on each morning.

He thought of Tuuli and her brother Jorma, who he had given him the stones. They are fishermen mostly, but they don't hunt the seals like I expected them to; in fact, when I suggested it they were offended! His smile grew as he remembered; and then he caught himself veering off-topic and gave a small laugh.

adi shook his head, marveling at what the young wolf shared. he had never been far north enough to know. even the moonwoman's ways—filtered down through the affiliate packs—were foreign to him, and this was another thing altogether.

it sounds wonderful, if you are suited for it, he remarked, smiling. family is most important, after all.

he blinked at raiyuk, eyes warm in invitation. tell me more about them, he murmured. and about what else you saw on your travels.

he could live vicariously through the other's paws, via the telling. that was all he desired in this moment.

I met a brother and a sister; first the brother, who thought I was strange for my marks, he meant the scarification he had earned for his manhood ceremony, which was something they also carried there in the north upon the ice sheets, but different. And he thought I was trying to ah, befriend his sister. I offered her some of my kill, which to these people was... Not wrong, but done for a purpose, I guess? It had a meaning I did not intend.

It had been a tense meeting, a clash of cultures. We grew closer over some weeks. I learned to fish with them, and when I tried to teach them of the seal-hunter ways, they resisted very strongly, and I did what I could to correct my mistake. Thinking of that, and how the twins' father had eventually been won over, made him smile.

They had marks like mine, too. But theirs were... Through the skin? Only some of them. The very elder, and the very skilled. I was the youngest among them with scars, and they thought it was foolish of me to have them. Here he grew a little somber, remembering how angry that had made him, but after many conversations with the people there was an understanding.

Have you been many places yourself? Perhaps not to the cold places, but, Aditya was an elder who had no doubt traveled far. Raiyuk was curious.

the way raiyuk spoke of this encounter reminded him much of his own travels, and aditya's maw arced upward in a pleased but wistful smile. the yearling painted an evocative picture with his words. he hadn't been quite that far north, but now he felt as if he'd at least tasted it.

all over, adi replied; at least as far as i could take it. my pelt is very thin, he remarked, chuckling a bit. i was born well south of here; there's only so far i can go before the winters are too much for me.

at least moontide and their sister packs had a proclivity for pelts. those helped, for sure.

so are you here to stay? he asked. or do you still have wanderlust?

It had not occurred to Raiyuk that he should perhaps go south, only north. Sometimes leaning easterly, but not for long periods. He wondered now what southlands lay unexplored to the seal-hunter people! What might he find there? What sort of others? Maybe there were more fish and seal-pelts that way, but Moontide would not know of it; perhaps his father, too, was ignorant. It would be thrilling to bring something home that wasn't so commonplace. Impressive.

—are you here to stay? The elder asked.

Yes, he said. Even so, Raiyuk felt a tugging in his heart, like an ache, or maybe a fluttering. A skipped beat. Well, already he was unsure! Backtracking. It depends, I suppose, on whether I am needed here. He gave a shrug.

I would stay if my father needed help with his lodge. I do not expect him to need me, though. He has his wives, and uncle Dutch, and all of Moontide. It wasn't like Raiyuk to wax poetic about his place in the world, and he did not mean to sound dejected now, but there was an edge to his words—thankful as he was for his large family, he knew in the spring it was likely to grow ever larger, and as firstborn there might have been an expectation of himself, but he felt very little kept him rooted here.

I would like to know the south, now that you speak of it. Maybe one day.

indecision was natural at raiyuk's age. even so, aditya saw the kind of spirit in the young man that he had felt within himself for so long—and perhaps, even now. still! 

the spirit was willing—but the flesh, so weak.

the world is vast, adi remarked, smiling. and you have plenty of time left to see it all. take your time. but family is important, he added, looking a bit more grave. your father may not need you here, but he loves you. i'm sure of that.