Bramblepoint point to the hills

It was warm without the cover that would have been provided by foliage. The spring sun beat down against the earth with very little concern for those living upon it. Just beyond the stretch of brambles, there were thick clouds rolling across the sky – dark with expected rain. Sawyer cast his gaze in the direction of the storm clouds and squinted. It would do him well to escape the warmth, and though he knew it was more likely that the rain would be short, he was willing to risk it. The brambles and thistles were all that was left of the ripe fruit country. What would have drawn small prey animals to the safety of the brush had been stripped bare and left with only the vicious bite of the thorns.
 
Pressing himself carefully through the tangle, the golden man watched the clouds as they pressed towards his location. A sharp prick caught him by surprise, drawing blood from underneath his coat. As if in reply, the sky rumbled ominously and a chilled wind ruffled the wolf’s fur. Sawyer did not know how long he could foresee sustaining himself without the assistance of a pack. He had yet to cross the borders of one, though, which was cause for worry. If the famine was as bad as it appeared, there was a chance the packs had moved on in search of prey.
 
Lightning crackled overhead, punctuating Sawyer’s thought with a glaring white flash, and a clap of thunder rolled across the brambles. It was a ghost land, he realized slowly. And the thought of finding means of survival was fading.

At the sound of the rumbling thunder, Nashoba flicked an ear and padded slowly into the forest of brambles. She had grown up on the plains--storms didn't bother her in the least--but she wished to remain dry, and so, in she went. Her muzzle wrinkled back in distaste, teeth slightly bared, as the thorny bushes raked gently against her sides, but she soon grew used to the prickling pressure and carried on, keeping her head down to avoid bashing it on low-hanging branches.

Nashoba caught sight of a golden figure ahead, watching the storm roll through. She walked nimbly towards the stranger, pulling up beside him and sitting on her haunches beside him. Idle conversation wasn't really her thing, but she thought it probably would have been awkward if she just sat in silence beside a wolf she knew not.

"This place is hell on earth," she mused crudely, ears flattening a bit as a loud clap of thunder roared overhead. "No food, these brambles have raked me bloody, and I'm pretty sure the lightning is God's way of telling us we're all doomed." She gave the loner, a tall, poised male, a sideways glance. "It's a wonder anyone stays here."

 
His attention was focused on the whipping of the wind and the quiet roll of the clouds overhead. So much so that the golden creature did not notice when he was no longer alone in the nest of nettles and thorns. It was not until the voice of the ornery female struck his ears that he felt himself jump slightly, fur rising along his shoulders and back. The southern dog turned his head to face her with bright eyes and a mildly surprised expression on his face. She spoke to him of the lands and how they had turned vile and unlivable. He listened to the omens that fell from her lips with piqued interest.
 
“I’ll be damned, miss, you sure as shit nearly scared the piss out of me,” he remarked with a soft twinkle in his eye. Another roll of thunder sounded overhead and he cast his head upwards once more to watch the thick dark clouds take hold of the land around them. He thought for a moment about her comment on the lightning that cracked overhead. It was ominous, yes, and he would not have shamed her for thinking it to be a sign from beyond that they were doomed. Sawyer was, however, something of a blind optimist.
 
“You could be right about that, missus. But where I come from, lightning brings rain,” he spoke to her with a laugh on his words. As if on cue, the water fell from above them in light sprinkles, spattering against the gold of his coat in perfectly timed drops. “And rain brings life back to the land.” Another roll of thunder sounded – this time much closer to their location – and Sawyer looked to his company with a tired smile.  
 

She wondered at his jumpiness upon her arrival. Nashoba thought she had sounded too loud approaching, her paws clumsily breaking twigs and crackling down on leaves as she tried to avoid the brambles that ripped at her fur. Still, she felt apologetic, though cracking a wry half-smile at his drawling accent and the words that went with it.

"Sorry for startling you," she said. "Anyway, you're right about the rain." Several fat droplets had escaped the canopy above and were landing on her head, rolling down her muzzle and dripping into her mouth as she opened it to speak again. "I guess there's something to be said about positivity."

She glanced over to him, then, looking him over curiously. He was thin--obviously had missed many meals here--but his golden coat still shone even in the dim light. "Are you with a pack, or alone here?" Nashoba didn't particularly scent any other wolves on him, but you could never be sure with this sort of thing.

 
The woman apologized for startling him and he chuckled a throaty laugh in response. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he assured her with a small nod of his head. It seemed that his rose-colored glasses had shone something of a short light on the woman. She seemed to realize that – while in a bind with the lack of prey and foliage – there was always a chance to start new again. The land there would reform and build into a beautiful stretch of life once more. The green buds on the trees were a sign of that, and the whistling wind overhead was reinforcement.
 
When she managed to make a comment on his positivity, the golden wolf smiled warmly. “Well, you may be right. All I know is I’ve never had much luck by bitchin’ and moanin’ about the turn of things,” he remarked with a shrug of his shoulders. Even though a positive nature did not always lead him to good fortune, he did know that it was uplifting to his spirit.
 
“I am very much by myself at the moment,” he then answered her next inquiry with lifted brows and a solemn expression. “Though I’m sure my family’s poking ‘round somewhere.” Though he had set out on his own path to make a future for himself, he did not mind the idea that some of his siblings had trailed behind him. “What about you, missus? Got a place to call home?”
 

The rain began to come down in earnest, and she watched the sheets of water outside the forest, coating the land with cool nourishment. A crackle of lightning lit the sky, its bolt coming down near the peaks of the mountains in the distance. "I will say, storms are sort of beautiful, in a savage way," Nashoba mused, her ears pricked to the rumble of thunder.

"Ah, the family. Gotta love 'em," she responded to his mentioning his relatives. Her voice was mixed, both wry and acrid, and before he could pick up the sour note in her tone, she moved on to answer his question. "I'm alone. For now."

 

keeping that vague as I'm in a joining thread w/ Elwood at the caldera at the moment

There was something about the crassness of the female that was pleasant to Sawyer. Though she had startled him upon arrival and hadn’t had many a good word to say for the predicament that the Wilds were in, she spoke with a rare candidness that he had not seen in many others. Moreover, she did not allow for her pride to cloud the opinions of others. In the short conversation, she had found means to come to an understanding of his words and his point of view and had even agreed with him on the minor cases.
 
In answer to his question, the earthy female explained that she too was alone. The golden male bobbed his head once or twice to show that he had heard. After a second or two of silence, he glanced her way. His eye sparked brightly as he locked them with her face. “I do recall you weren’t too pleased with the state of things,” he remarked carefully, a smile creeping along his features. “But were you thinkin’ you were gon’ stick around? Or look for somethin’ better?”

"Now that," she began, "is a damn good question." She continued to peer out of the brambles, watching the rain. It had stormed much like this the morning she had left her old home. Water sluicing through her agouti pelt, the tears of anger and fear mixing with raindrops down her face as she left behind the only place she had ever known. I can't stand the rain, she thought suddenly, fiercely, and shook the water from her ruff, taking care not to spray her companion.

"I didn't have a plan when I left home and came here. I just wanted to get away." Nashoba looked at him, then, silver eyes boring into his gaze. "I'll probably stay. I've never seen a famine like this before, but I suppose it'll get better eventually." One eyebrow quirked in query. "Will you stay, or go?"

The golden wolf reminded her a lot of one of her companions back home, and she had almost used his name to address this stranger. That would have been awkward. "By the way, don't think I ever got your name," she added, just to clarify. "Mine's Nashoba."

The female seemed to take his inquiry quite seriously. She seemed to ponder on it for a moment before she attempted to shake her pelt to remove the droplets of rain that were sure to be gathering there. The golden-clad male tossed his head back and forth slightly, feeling his ears bat against his skull with soft thuds. He did not bother to shake his entire figure; the Crowfeather male was certain that it would do him very little good. Instead, he drew his ears forward to listen to the answer that had been so carefully thought-out by his present company.
 
She explained that she was a bit wayward. The female had really had no intentions when she had left her old home. In spite of the idea that she hadn’t created a plan for herself, she mentioned sticking around the Teekon area. A curling smile split his features a bit and he chuckled. “I might have a bit of a poet in me; I sure do like the thought of nature fightin’ back against all this,” he spoke and gestured with his muzzle to their surroundings. It was bleak – even more so with the rain against their backs – but there was still a chance that life could break through.
 
After another moment of listening to the water beat around them, the woman mentioned that they had yet to share names with each other. Introduced as Nashoba, the golden boy nodded his head with a pleasant sweep of his tail. “Pleasure, missus. I’m Sawyer.”

He spoke like nothing she had heard before, his cadence folksy, almost lackadaisical. His words were suffused with good humor, such a contrast to her tone, which came off acrid, at times sullen. Despite herself, she found she smiled more often than not in his presence--it had been a while since she had smiled, truly.

"Sawyer." She rolled the name over her tongue. "Nice to meet you."

The pair, gold and grey-brown, sat watching the rain side by side, water streaming through their pelts. Nashoba enjoyed the small moment of silence between them, continuing to watch the storm clouds as they rolled past. Then she looked over again, asking a question that surfaced suddenly. "Where are you from?"

The woman’s company was more than pleasant for the golden lad. He had found himself thoroughly enjoying their little rain watch, and he knew that it would be a fond memory that he could look back on when recalling his first several days in the Teekon Wilds. She spoke as though she meant it genuinely, and this warmed the heart of the gold-cloaked beast. A happy twinkle sparked his gaze and he bowed his head respectfully to the lady.
 
When she questioned him about his origins, the boy allowed a long breath to escape from his lips and he peered thoughtfully at her with pale golden eyes. “Well, missus, I come from way down south y’see. Nowhere near these parts. A great big forest called the Wild Wood,” he answered her with a sure nod of his head, and with a very sudden ache for the home he had left behind. Attempting to shake the thoughts from his skull, Sawyer turned to her with an expression of interest. “What about you, darlin’?”