it's burning through the bloodline

Andalusia pressed a final step upon the rain-touched grass and rested her gaze on the pack land just beyond her reach. With a slow scan she searched the barren horizon for life. Mist shrouded the visibility, but even through the drear she could see the scar in the tree line where the fire had raged. The soft scent of rain filled the land, but her subconscious had her convinced she could smell a choking bite on the air, as if the flames still ate the ground and sky. But so much more than this held her back. A sentry of scents kept her on neutral ground, upon the cusp of her uncle's home, attesting to the occupation still held here. The wolves of the Plateau remained, and she breathed through each in turn. Her mind pried for one alone, and her chest tightened when she found that Mordecai's stood on the frontline.

The Ostrega's body slacked. She hadn't seen her uncle since intercepting Zoratto on this same stretch of borderline, and that had been before the fire broke out. For the first few days she'd considered Mordecai as good as Dhani, dead in an ashen heap and never to be found. The thought had carried her far beyond the reach of the Plateau, but in time she had turned back, thick with the need to know. Another storm almost had her running again, a spinning whirlwind she'd watched from afar. But though flames danced on the horizon, a few days watch confirmed none sought to purchase the Plateau, and despite her nerves, Andalusia set her herself to face her uncle's home again.

Mordecai's scent spoke of life, but stood in abstract existence from the rest of the world. He wasn't truly there, and she wouldn't believe he remained until she saw his face again. Without a stroke of hesitation, for she'd put this off far too long already, Andalusia inclined her head to the sky and lent her voice to the air. @Mordecai would come if he remained. And if he did not, Andalusia would leave and never look back. She'd lost enough to the flames.

The storms had come and ravaged the earth, as they were wont to do in that particular part of the year. Though he had little to compare it to, the year before had been surprisingly quiet, void of the destruction and devastation wrought in the present. The Plateau had come out relatively unscathed, or so he felt. He also had nothing to base that on, as other than riding out the hellacious weather they had only been able to hear snippets of the onslaught the overnight of days ago had brought.

What the weather had rendered remained widely unknown to him, but the herds had scattered only to still outside his range. He suspected they would return and had idly kept to himself once again — it was far easier to allow himself to let his thoughts consume him than perhaps consider the full extent of the storm that had come through. Whatever had happened outside of their territory did not matter to him. They were fortunate enough to have scraped by, he would soon discover.

As a call raised on the borders, it pulled him from the cascade of snowballing considerations in his purview. First and foremost of these came to Harlyn's stand, but his own budding options rested precariously on that narrow horizon. He cast them aside and composed himself as he made his way towards the outskirts of the Plateau, perhaps never truly that far away from them to begin with. The ever present outlier, he made decent time in getting there, though it was another indeterminate few minutes before he spied out Andalusia's form residing through the damp and wind-blown grasses.

With an easy smile to rest crookedly on his muzzle, he chuffed to draw her attention.

Her thoughts drifted as she scanned for motion beyond the ripple of the windswept grass. This boundary between pack and freedom marked an end to another journey, and if Mordecai didn't show, a journey as fruitless as the last. In truth, Andalusia didn't know where she would go if no one heeded her call. Her meeting with the Caldera girl had left her with a strong conviction her loyalties stood with her bloodline alone. She needed to settle, but if none of her kin remained here, she could only move on until she found them again. And as far as she knew, Mordecai was the last of the Ostregas in these Wilds. Wherever her siblings had wandered, she wasn't able to find them again. They were drifters as much as she.

A beckon snapped Andalusia back to the present and she rose to her feet. Her chest tightened when she locked her eyes on the approaching form of Mordecai, and her stare of neutrality broke to a grin and a wash of relief. In presence she remained as distant as their prior encounter, but her stance held little of the tension she'd displayed when meeting Zoratto, and she waved her tail in response. But she found she could do little more than that. Just seeing him approach her alive, like she used to imagine her parents doing just after they'd died, lifted the weight she had harboured since watching the fire burn his home. She could be dreaming, but everything felt too real and solid for that. Mordecai was alive - his presence now sealed that - and Andalusia could only release a sigh that deflated what doubts remained.

As a smile broke across her features, he raised his tail in a friendly wave. It would have seemed that she fared about the same as the last time he had come across her. Perhaps a touch more ragged, but given the full swing of summer he suspected that they were all in about the same boat. The days were long and the nights short and as it were, there was often much to be done. His thoughts had not progressed to the consideration of winter to come just yet, but they were just among the things that lingered at the horizon. The passage of time was keen to escape how it desired.

"What brings you around these parts?" he asked as the space between them dwindled reasonably. He had found nothing out of place in his approach, so he didn't feel it necessary to be wary of over-curious bodies trying to snake their way over the line. For the most part, the Plateau was reasonably guarded even in light of all the rain that had come down. It would have seemed even to him that they were out and about as soon as it came to a tolerable rate, marking and scoring the earth to proclaim their domain.

"I was nearby when the lightning hit your land. I saw the fire..." Andalusia faltered. The night still haunted her, and dredged up memories of her parents she'd long laid to rest. She ran from them with three years of practice - but this was new, and something she couldn't escape with good conscience. What reason did she have to care for Mordecai beyond their bloodline? Nothing - yet somehow, that connection was enough. The first Ostrega beyond her siblings, and to have lost him to the fire - she bristled at the thought. The need to know and see the damage turned her around even as she stepped further and further from the Teekon Wilds. Now at the steps of the Plateau, with Mordecai here strong and healthy as ever, was it silly she'd worried so much? It couldn't have been. If life and death had been true to character, he wouldn't have shown up at all. Her gaze darkened as she continued. "The summer hasn't been kind. I needed to know you were alright."

*derps*

What she spoke of almost seemed to have happened a long time ago to Mordecai. Perhaps that was the culmination of so many other events since, or maybe because he had subconsciously pushed it far to the back of his mind. Still, he grasped ahold of the faint tendrils of worry in her voice, finding the relief that rushed from them down beneath. Whatever had happened in her past was a mystery to him; he found her worry worrisome in itself. Yet perhaps he would not blame her, as in time he would learn that what had happened to the wide expanse of wilderness was far worse than simply just a fire.

"It has been a hard summer," he commented dryly, agreeing wholly with her statement. "But, for the most part we're all still here." The tinge of fire in his lungs from the smoke was long behind him now, and the everpresent roughness in his voice remained. Things could have been much worse, but he did not dwell upon those here. Stepping closer to her, he reached out to nudge her shoulder gently. "See? Still here. Guess it's gonna take more than a fire to put little ol' me down. We only lost part of the forest, up near the mountains."

Something in Mordecai's words did not rest well with her. Her mouth drew taut, but her mind was still making sense of his intonation when he moved forward and closed the space between them. She let him nudge her, and despite her lingering concern, an airy laugh escaped her mouth, half to release her remaining nerves, and half because it felt better than the fears tying her down. "Your evidence is hard to refute." The ghost of her usual grin returned, but unease still shadowed her face. His reassurance was lacking, though in his defence she had yet to tell him of the fire that had killed her parents. If the flames could take them down, then Mordecai was just as vulnerable.

Her gaze jumped to the horizon, searching again for where the forest began, and when she found the spot, observing where the green turned a darker shade. She could just make out the charcoaled shock, but she tore her eyes from the trees and returned her attention to Mordecai. The fire was gone, and part of the forest, but trees mattered little to her. They would regrow with the seasons, but wolves were a different matter. "You made it sound like not everyone made it." Her face grew solemn, and the flicker of a smile dropped from her lips. "How many did you lose? Did Harlyn escape with you?"

"Harlyn's fine," Mordecai said, not at all surprised that she would ask after her. If not for Harlyn's seek and find skill, it would have seemed that they would have been unlikely to cross paths. For that, he was grateful. Andalusia was a far better relative to converse with, though he only had Charon now to compare that to. And Charon hardly wanted anything to do with him.

"Only one of our wolves is unaccounted for. I don't think she perished, but there's no guarantees. We haven't been able to find her," and he refrained from adding on or what's left of her. Wherever Osprey had spirited away to, Mordecai only hoped she was healing and well. He had given up the search for her some time ago, and suspected as much with the others. There were far other things brewing on the horizon that he only had an inkling about.

Harlyn's fine. Andalusia let the last tendril of worry release its hold on her, not bothering to conceal any of her relief from her uncle. Her flickering smile returned, but found a shadow in his words to follow. A case like her parents, only they had found Celia's remains. "We never found Dhani, either." Neither his ashes nor his body, dead or alive.

The mystery used to rattle her to the point she'd refused to accept his death until she could search for evidence herself. Sure enough, when she had come of age, she had scoured the broken woods, with the belief the others were missing things only she and her siblings could see. But she had seen only crumbling trees, and like the others, she had found nothing. So she had waited, hoping that meant her father would return. But he never did. It had taken time before she could face the fact that her mother and father were never coming back. But she had, and she had found in herself a strength to look forward to the future while letting the past rest behind her. "Sometimes all you can do is let yourself move on."

Of all the things that could have come tumbling from her dark lips, Mordecai did not expect a name drop. There was the rough idea of where her heritage laid, but he had never delved into it with her. Then again, he could not recall clearly if he had ever crossed paths with Dhani either, though the name rang a distant bell. Another sibling long scattered to the four winds, had it been his mother who had wondered after him at times? Inwardly, he shook away the thought, instead adding to her words.

"Is that so? I didn't know what became of him."

And it was left at that, not entirely bothering him. The family he knew of came in the form of words and stories, though he had brushed shoulders with a fair amount of it. But he had left years and years ago, and they were more or less lost to the sands of time as far as he was concerned. No amount of travel would take him back to his origins, or so he felt. And it was like she pointedly said — sometimes all they could do was move on.

"Well, what's done is done. We still hold out hope for her, but if she's out there I'd imagine she'll find her own way back to here in time. With a ton of new stories, to boot. It's what she enjoys the most, anyway." He offered Andalusia a smile, though it waned smoothly until its dissipation. "What about you though, how are you managing?" She seemed well, all things considered. Still roaming about the wilderness with nothing more clinging to her scent than the earth and the summer breeze.

The casual way in which Mordecai acknowledged her father's death was refreshing. Strangers usually met her with hollow apologies, murmurs of sorry and poor thing that grew wearisome over time. But Mordecai did not offer pity. His musing was a welcome change to the sentimental ramblings she'd learned to steel herself against, and she offered a short nod in return. "Unfortunately so." And she left it at that.

Hope was only dangerous when pursued with fantastical ideals, but Mordecai spoke with solid and well placed thoughts. He had a good head, and stable reasoning. Andalusia let him speak freely of his missing pack mate without interruption - after all, she knew next to nothing about the woman he spoke of, nor the type of character she was. But she listened, and let her smile broaden at his words.

"Oh, I'm keeping busy. Enjoying the perks of freedom while it lasts." The memory of Sebastian reared up again, and her grin faltered. The tension between north and south, spoken through word and wound. Without ties, she had no reason to conceal these worries from Mordecai, but a part of her still hesitated to divulge. "A pack down south offered me a place with them." Her words came slow and deliberate, and she drifted her gaze southward in the direction of the Caldera. Grassland stretched to the distant horizon, but though she could not see the Caldera itself, Andalusia could still hear the russet girl's warning and sense the wariness in her bones. "As you can see I turned down their offer. It seems a number of packs have it out for each other around these parts. Not surprising, but concerning nonetheless." And upsetting in more ways than one. A family feud stretching for miles, between father and daughter. As many times as her siblings wronged her, she couldn't imagine turning on them in bloodshed. And to hold such hatred against her father - her foster father? She couldn't even entertain the possibility.

Andalusia turned her attention back on Mordecai. Until she knew where he stood, it was safer to withhold the confession she'd helped Sebastian back to his pack. Regardless of her freedom, her choice would label her a sympathizer with the south, and she wished to remain on neutral ground, especially if the Plateau was involved in this. "I'm not interested in pledging myself to a pack out for another's blood." She let the statement hang, a prompt for Mordecai to confirm where he stood - whether his pack was involved in this dispute, or whether he stood on neutral ground.

"I can relate to that," he joined with a dry chuckle. It wasn't much of a stone's throw to guess just what she was referencing, though he couldn't have said he wouldn't have been surprised if there wasn't another feud going on. As it were, it had seemed that this particular part of the wilderness was always embroiled in some sort of conflict. Whether it was with those who abandoned a pack to form their own or merely arguments over rank, there was always something going on. But such was their way of life, and had he taken more than a few miles venture outside of the Plateau, Mordecai would have become aware of just how hemmed in the Plateau was in comparison to its neighbors.

Still, that bit about the Caldera concerned him. While it was truly something that was not everyone's concern, he found it hard to believe that it wouldn't become their own. What happened if someone with a grudge came calling at their door, and took advantage of someone who truly had nothing to do with it? It would only further serve to ramp up the tension, and he had enough of that to last a lifetime as it were. Though the Spine was easily a year behind him, the memory of it still lingered from time to time. It was not a process he wished to repeat.

"Then again, it's not uncommon either. I can't say I make much sense of the whole thing, but I'm not interested in being apart of it either to be honest." And it felt good to admit that aloud, even if in a way they were both removed from it to a degree. "It's made Harlyn want to move on from here as well."

Andalusia's eyes brightened. Mordecai's words were exactly what she wanted to hear. "That's a relief." Even if these troubles concerned his pack, his lack of involvement signalled he remained removed from the source. On her journey from the southern lands, she'd entertained the thought her uncle might prefer a certain bias one way or the other and put him at odds with her own desire to distance herself from the feud as much as she could. That was not the case, and she let those troubles fall from her mind.

Knowing where Mordecai stood, the news of Harlyn's thoughts brought other questions to mind. "Oh?" Andalusia did not condemn the dark woman's choice to run from the problems at hand. That was what Andalusia was doing herself, and she found it far wiser to leave than let the troubles of others make one's own life miserable. But it made her curious for Mordecai. Surely he hadn't mentioned Harlyn's desire if it held no bearing on him. "And what does that mean for you?"

What did it mean for him? Mordecai did not have a very summarized answer. Only a temporary crossing that would bridge the gap between. "A very complicated decision," he said with a wane smile. Where she was not at all comfortable with the Plateau, he was. But what she had said to him on the eve of the storms that had come through had stuck with him, even if he did not openly converse about it. And even with his response, he realized that it too, was vague, and sought to elaborate.

"We feel differently about things here. She's been wanting to leave for a while, but stays because I... like it here. It's been calm, even in spite of all that's gone on. I originally only planned to stay through the end of winter, but, as we can see it's lasted much longer than that." No doubt much to the pleasure of those who had taken him into their fold. He earned his keep and earned his place, and it wasn't contested as it had been in other times and places.

Still, it was clear that this was a decision he did not take lightly.

Complicated indeed. But then, things usually were when a decision rested on the shoulders of more than one. "Sounds like she's sacrificing a lot to be with you." That much was clear. Though Andalusia didn't know Harlyn past the brief meeting they'd shared, she knew dissatisfaction and the urge to leave, and how even the strongest of loyalty could split in the face of disagreement. It wasn't an easy place for anyone involved, and Andalusia took Mordecai's matter as seriously as he. "It also sounds like she has no loyalties here but you. If that hasn't changed by now, then maybe it's just time for her to move on. For her sake, and the pack's. The question then is if you'll follow."

She knew little of their situation, but a mind fixed leaving was often one already gone. Andalusia doubted it would be long until her paws followed, and Mordecai would need to choose whether his future lay with Harlyn, or whether this fork in the road was where their journeys split.

Her words were introspective, no doubt among the things that he considered. Though Mordecai knew full and well what it meant to sacrifice happiness for the well being of others, it was also something he found he also struggled with. It had happened with the Spine and eventually, the strain pressured him to be done with it all. Unsurprisingly was the consideration that it was happening again, as he found he was wont to let Harlyn go as much as he was his loyalities to Dante and his pack.

But he wasn't so quick to consider that Harlyn did not have a few fleeting loyalities buried within for the Plateau. She had been resourceful and decent towards them, at one point or another pitching in to aid them. She had socialized well from what he gathered, though nowhere near the point that others mingled. The same could have been said of him, however, as he often partook in things more as an outlier, and some attempts to not play that card had been meager at best. And as the silence drew on, he found himself nodding at her final statement.

"That I suppose, is the question," he remarked somewhat flatly. It was the same question that Harlyn had posed to him and while he stalled, he was also aware the answer that he had given. "But I said that I would follow. It's just the matter of addressing that to the others. These wolves here are my kin too, in a sense. I don't imagine they will take kindly to it." And as he would find out, at least one of them wouldn't.

It seemed Mordecai had already made up his mind. What remained, then, was whether or not it was worth risking the loss of favour with his family at the Plateau. Andalusia had burned her own share of bridges when she'd left the Stalikkahs, but most of her packmates had understood her need to move on. Even her parents had let her go. It had been hard to leave, but necessary for more reasons than one, and they had understood her decision had not been made out of hatred or contempt. She loved them still, even miles away, and longed for their company when the lonely nights came upon her. But change was a part of life, and if someone couldn't see that, then that was something they'd need to figure out for themselves.

"Of course you're going to step on a few toes. You can't make everyone understand, especially if they're like kin to you." That was the nature of family. She'd been upset when Sumayl had left them, and Ciervo and Chehlia after, but she couldn't have stopped them, not when she had already been planning to do the same. From what she'd gleaned on her travels, most packs began with dispersals from others, and Andalusia wouldn't have been surprised if that had been how the Plateau had started as well. "Don't let fear of upsetting them stop you from going through with what needs to be done. They might not understand, but that's something they'll need to work out for themselves in time. You'll still have Harlyn. And whatever you do, you'll have me, too, if it counts for anything." She had already made up her mind on this: Mordecai stood as her only kin here, and she wasn't so willing to let him go just yet.

wrap up with your post? ;D

She had a point, he conceded. And truthfully, Mordecai had known that all along. It was impossible to please everyone. Making them understand was another beast all of its own. He didn't anticipate the notion of leaving to go over well, but at the same time he found himself tempted by what lied down a road he had yet not traveled.

"Good to know we can count on you, then. I think Harlyn knows of another who will come along as well." That was of course, provided that Luke hadn't gone and settled down somewhere. Mordecai had not met with the blue-nosed wolf since the day he had reunited Harlyn with him, but was somewhat aware that he was still around. He had been around the plateau a few times, needless to say, though not one of those times had Mordecai been the one to intercept his visits.

"I guess I should say to stick close by, but I'd imagine you'll be doing that anyway." A faint smile graced his face then.

Sounds good, I'll go ahead and get this archived. Progress! :D

The more able-bodies, the better. Andalusia's grin returned and her tail moved in a gentle sway. Founding a pack - now there was a future she hadn't imagined. For too long she'd held onto the hope of finding a home with her siblings here. For all she knew, they'd moved on long ago. Even if they returned to look for her, she couldn't wait on them forever. She couldn't keep living as a drifter, for as much as she chased the open road, she yearned to settle more and more with each passing day. The life of a loner was no life at all - not even for her.

"I never go far." Truly, if not for the fire, she never would have left. Now that she had pledged herself to Harlyn and Mordecai, there was no chance she would move on from the flatlands until they moved out. She would linger here, and when the time came, she would follow. Andalusia offered Mordecai a parting nudge and a softened smile. "See you around." And with that she left him to his thoughts, and she to her own, filled with the hope the next time they met would be on neutral ground, headed for a new adventure and a future yet untold.