Bramblepoint Southstar.

All welcome (but poking @Ceridwen in case she’s available? )!

Towhee left the mount around midday, leaving Bushtit in Treepie’s care. She loped due east toward Bramblepoint, eager to catch some small game for her son, his sitter and their generous hosts. There, she found many promising scents and spent an entire afternoon failing to close any deals.

Feeling frustrated and tired, Towhee paused at the fringe nearest the caldera and glowered at the familiar landmark. Her tail switched as she then plunged back into the trees, broad paws crunching noisily in the leaf litter and unwittingly thwarting her efforts.

Dwin was not the first one in her family to learn that empty houses meant very little, when the people, who had made it her home were gone. On her way back she took a detour around caldera, did not want to go through it. The scents and pawprints of her departed family members were still there and she was not yet ready to face it. There would be time for tears later. Now she was eager to not let the grief take over and just distract her mind with something else. 

It seemed that gods were very responsive to wishes of mortals lately, because she happened to walk towards Bramblepoint the very moment she saw a flash of a very familiar form in the distance. Honestly - Dwin had not really expected that the old hag would still be alive, because it had been ages, since they had last met each other. On the other - there were old folk tales about people with the nastiest tempers holding on to life with an iron grip.

She had a tendency to forget that Towhee was deaf and, of course, she first yelled at her to stop and only, when she acted as if nothing had happened, did she remember that - hey - if you want to talk to that hag, save your breath and stamina for running after her. And run after Dwin did. "HEY!" she said, when she finally caught up (quite out of breath), and had circled around the old lady to come face to face with her. "What are you doing so far out here?"

She only remembered how much noise leaves made when she came upon a trio of turkey vultures picking over a carcass in a small clearing. The birds startled, two of them taking wing while the boldest of the small flock merely hopped aside and watched her with beady eyes. Towhee returned its stare for a beat before her gaze dropped to the carrion.

Towhee immediately recognized the remains of a deer, though there wasn’t much meat left on the exposed skeleton. Nonetheless, she lifted her lip and growled loudly at the loitering vulture as she stepped closer. It finally lifted into the air, roosting across from its fellows in the sparse treetops overhead.

The pickings were so slim, they really weren’t worth the effort. After a brief assessment, Towhee loped away from the site, leaving the scraps to nature’s garbage disposals. She hadn’t gotten very far—just out of the birds’ view, really—when a breathless she-wolf appeared out of the corner of her eye, familiar and demanding.

When was the last time they’d crossed paths? Towhee felt like it had been at least one lifetime. Maybe that was an exaggeration, though she was pretty sure it had been last spring. And it really felt like she’d lived through a lot of life since then. Surely Ceridwen had done the same.

I’m roaming again, although more specifically, I’m trying to hunt at the moment, she answered the younger woman’s question. Towhee paused, thinking back on one of the last things Dwin had said to her. So, how did your trip to the edge of the world go?

"Aaaah, okay - I hope I did not scare anything precious away," Dwin remarked. A few months ago she would have made a joke about Towhee scaring all of the prey away by being very loud, but learning first-hand, how difficult it was to fend for yourself, she kept quiet. After all the old lady had survived this long by making noise, wherever she went, and in her decade of existance had probably effectively exterminated the deaf deer, rodent and lagomoprh populations from the gene pool. 

"Went there, looked over the edge, did not fancy, what I saw, and came back again," she said smiling. "Being in the centre of the Earth is a lot nicer. Less chances of falling off. What about you? How have you been? And, what has brought you so far out here - last I remember, you were staying with your daughter somewhere by the coast, maybe?" she furrowed her brow, trying to recall the exact place. 

Aside from the occasional wondering—and, of course, her single foray to Frosthawks way back in the day—Towhee didn’t particularly fancy the idea of leaving Teekon Wilds. Even considering her wanderlust and all the loved ones out there in the uncharted wilderness beyond it, she couldn’t imagine leaving, especially at this stage in her life. Ceridwen’s words were therefore validating, in a way.

Well, that puts to rest my question about whether or not the outside world is any better than here, Towhee joshed, then sighed through a smile. Said daughter—and her daughters… and son… and husband…—all got bitten by the traveling bug too. I hope the big wide world is nicer to them than it was to you. She paused. Did something happen out there…?

"Oh, no - I think it is more about thinking that all that your life's is lacking here, you will find elsewhere. But you cannot outrun your problems or discontentment, or yourself. You are you with all your flaws and good traits regardless of, where you end up. An adventure is a nice distraction, a way to give you a perspective of things, but on the whole - you still have to solve them yourself," Dwin replied. 

"I think that this is something every traveller learns eventually, but then no two journeys are alike - your children and grandchildren might have an entirely different experience," she explained. "What happened to your pack? Are you on your own again because of your free will or because not everything worked out as you had planned?" 

Her answer totally reminded me of this song. :)

She felt something within her relax at Ceridwen’s reassurance. She’d learned some lessons out there, but not necessarily the hard way, and Towhee was glad of that. She realized that she thought of Dwin like another daughter, or perhaps granddaughter. She felt protective of her and only wanted good things to happen to her… though the Redhawk also knew that wasn’t really how the world worked.

Wise words, Towhee said, her ears folding backward a bit at the followup question. We tried to hold down the fort after they left but then the others started leaving, one by one. They’ve been gone so long, I’m not sure they’re still planning on coming back. And at some point, it wasn’t fair to expect us to hold out any longer. It’s too quiet over there.

She thought of Reyson and Meadow, how the situation—how Towhee herself—had really let them down. Towhee still hoped they could claim the copse for themselves and enjoy homesteading there. But she also wouldn’t be surprised if they disliked the isolation too. The hinterlands were a ghost town these days.

I’m not entirely on my own though, Towhee admitted. I have a travel buddy these days.

Such an oldie and goldie. :D

The same way Towhee thought of her, Dwin now realized that her dearly beloved hag was the only living relative of hers in the wilds. Everyone else was gone now - siblings, cousins, uncles and aunts - she could not name anyone that was around. To think that just a few years ago, even before her birth, Blackthorn name had reigned in the area (or so the stories told, being flexible with the truth) and now this had changed completely. Of course, there was a high likelihood that there were still children born with tell-tale dark stripe along their spine, but that was the only reminder, of, who their ancestors could have been. 

"Yeah, that's, how I feel about caldera now. Don't want to return there, because every single empty corner just screams about, what was their once and what no longer exists," Dwin remarked. "Who is your friend - a wolf kind, a bird kind or an imagined kind?" she asked. 

Her son’s name was on the tip of her tongue, just waiting for Ceridwen to prompt it. But she said something right before her question that caused a proverbial record scratch in Towhee’s brain. Her orange eyes blinked, then widened.

Hold up, what? The caldera is empty? What happened? Towhee pressed, her mind suddenly full of Eljay’s recent visit to the copse.

"The ranks had run thin and the family decided that the best course of action was to move south. Both for the sake of children and Eljay as well. Dad is very old and frail now and it was clear that he would not survive this winter," Dwin explained, almost nonchalantly, but now and then she would pause and sigh, before continuing to talk. "I saw them off not too long ago," she added. "So, yeah, I guess that last of the Blackthorns on this side of the earth have left to seek greener pastures," she smiled. And it still felt like a good idea. Dad would pass away eventually and she would rather have it somewhere nice, cozy and warm than in the dead of winter from starvation or worse. 

"You never replied to my earlier question," she reminded Towhee. 

Leaving the caldera behind must’ve nearly finished Eljay, Towhee couldn’t help but think. She frowned as she dredged up the image of him from a month or so past. He’d definitely looked ancient, in part because they hadn’t seen each other in years. But she was still surprised by Ceridwin’s mention of frailty and this notion that Eljay would not have survived the winter…

Damn, was all she could think to say, before pointing out, I guess we’re in the same boat then, either of them the last women standing as their family slowly disappeared into the stretches of wilderness beyond this one.

But, of course, she wasn’t alone and not all the Redhawks had gone, for that matter. Towhee cleared her throat, lips twitching into a small smile as she thought about their last conversation and all that had happened in between then and now.

Remember when I told you I lost a pregnancy? Twice? she queried. Well, third time’s the charm. I went through the whole cycle all over again in later summer, minus the loss. I have a young son now. He’s not here, Towhee said quickly. I left him with family at Moonspear for the day. But he’s the one I’m out here hunting for. Well, him and our gracious hosts.

Dwin had mixed emotions about Towhee's news, because each time she met the old lass, she heard a different story on her views about marriage, loyalty to the pack, having and raising children. There certainly had been few times were her friend had declared that she was done with this nonesense and did not wish anyone to go through this ever (well, this could have been Dwin's interpretation, not exact words of, what Towhee had said). She meets her another time and this bony frame covered in figurative moth eaten, cobweb covered pelt is singing siren songs for any male in the vicinity to come and have a romp around the parsely bed. Now - hey - I have a kid. Again. Without the full story,  Dwin did not really know, whether she should congratulate the old she-wolf or pity her for being someone's toy (with teeth and nails, but still) during the heat. 

"Ah... okay, good for you," she finally said not to appear rude. "So - what's the child's name?" she asked, instead of wishing to know all of the reasons of whys and hows. 

She couldn’t help but laugh a little at the myriad of emotions that drifted across Ceridwen’s face, culminating in an expression of tentatively bewildered optimism. Towhee supposed that’s sort of how she’d felt when she’d quit denying she was in labor back in August.

Bushtit, she shared. He’s still pretty young but he’s already quite a globetrotter. I think he really likes meeting new people and making friends. He’s weirdly easygoing, for which Towhee was eternally grateful, particularly in her advanced age. I have no doubt you’ll cross paths with him someday, if you continue traveling the area. Is that the plan?

She knew Dwin led a nomadic lifestyle, though she’d always been able to go home to the caldera. Towhee remembered what they’d agreed upon the last time they’d spoken: home was not really a place, it was the people. In that sense, Ceridwen’s home had merely changed location. Hopefully she could continue dropping in on Eljay, Maia and the rest of them.

What? Dwin's expression changed from surprised to bewildered and then embarrassed. Had she heard the child's name correctly? Batshit? She suppressed a guffaw and had to look away not to burst out laughing. That misheard word had opened flood-gates of inappropriate jokes and it was just too bad she could not speak them all out. Because one thing you never did was to insult mother's about their darling children. Even if they had the most fun-provoking names in the world. 

"I have not yet decided," she finally replied, having collected herself, though now and then a corner of her lips would twitch and she would have to clench her jaws not to lose control. Because that name... Poor kid... "What are your plans? Are you planning to overwinter in the moonpacks?" she asked. "Or there is somewhere a welcome and cozy place with one of your children or grandchildren?"

Every time she introduced her child, it evoked a reaction. This time was no different. When Ceridwen glanced away in an effort to hide her laughter, Towhee grinned and laughed herself.

It’s okay, you can make all the jokes you want, she assured with a twitch of her tail. Shaking her head, she added, No, I’m not doing that again. As long as I’m able-bodied, my plan is to resume moving from place to place. I’ll visit with everyone but I’m not putting down roots again anytime soon.

Even as she said the words, Towhee realized how it must sound. She was a senior, with a young child, and she wanted to go it alone? It probably wasn’t the soundest decision she’d ever made, but she knew she could rely on herself to keep the two of them fed in between pit stops with family, friends and allies.

Especially after hearing about your dad, I’m well aware that I only have a couple of good years left. That’s if I’m lucky. I want to make the most of them, you know? There’ll come a day when I’ll have no choice to slow down, then stop. Until then…

She would make the most of her days, sightseeing and spending time with loved ones. She would particularly cherish her time with her son—surely, her last child—before he inevitably grew up and went off on his own. Towhee would probably have a misadventure or two, maybe go a little hungry from time to time. But having spent these past few months in a fading pack, she realized that she would rather die of starvation (or any number of things) than boredom.

"Never again until next time?" Dwin teased Towhee in a good natured manner, having an opinion that her friend's life (that part she was aware of) was a definition of, why you should not make any plans. She felt pretty certain that the next time they ran into each other, the old hag will either have married someone (husband number 6, 7?), will have given another chance to settling down or - who knows - given birth to another child nicknamed "this IS going to be the last one - I swear!". 

"I am not judging you," Dwin reassured the elder, even though she had a feeling that this brief monologue was meant more for that side of Towhee, who knew that she was not getting any younger. "If anything - I think you are an inspiration to kids like me - that life does not end, when you turn two. Or after three," she smiled. "But with all due respect - I suggest you overwinter with a group. If not for your sake, then for the kid's," she added. 

Exactly, was the only acceptable reply to Dwin’s rhetorical question, delivered with a twitching smile.

Towhee could not remember ever being told she was an inspiration to anyone. She supposed it was unspoken at times, though it was nice to hear (so to speak), all the same. Ceridwen promptly killed the warm and fuzzies by questioning her decision, though Towhee trusted she meant well.

You don’t think I can look after kid #472 myself? she asked lightly. Where would you suggest? Where are you overwintering?

"In the Grand Land of All is Great, Amazing and Plenty," Dwin replied, grinning ear to ear (almost). "With my belly full of finest venison, lying on my back, paws in the air, basking in the sun and not having a single worry in the whole world," she smiled. "If I find my way to that promised land, I will make sure to send you an invite there too. A hag of your 100 years of age and experience deserves to be lazy time from time as well," she laughed, then sighed and cast a glance around the surroundings that in the dim light of a late autumn day looked uninspiring and far from the vivid imagery she had just painted. 

"I dunno yet. I intend to visit a friend that lives by the coast and then just see, where it goes from there," she said. "It is high time I made new acquaintances and friends here. Be like a spider, who weaves its web," she replied. "I do not intend to have children of my own, but I think that I have enough charm and spells to achieve connections through friendships. You should know that, by the way - you are the first one I tried the magic on and - look - where we are now," she laughed.