Neverwinter Forest and the fire will consume us

anyone's welcome to snag this if they're eyeing it. :)

Pasha had not even arrived at the edge of the Wilds before the world rendered itself towards devastation. Whatever had happened was beyond him, whether the winter had been long or something had ravaged the terrain, but the growth of new foliage was painfully evident. It had fueled him forward onto less familiar grounds where he was left to wander for what seemed eons. He did so until the rise of the mountains that shadowed the territory his father claimed came into view, the picturesque snowcap of the towering peak a snapshot he recalled at his departure.

From there, the path was steady and without stop; he trekked through the long night and the early rise of the day, hitting the borders in the midst of a heavy fog that wrapped tightly through the outskirts of evergreens. Pasha drew in the scent of the pine, ascertaining what he needed to know—his father was there. There were other recognizable scents in that breath as well, but there had only been one he sought to find. He did not hesitate a moment longer once that affirmation existed; his head raised to the canopies above and called for @Scimitar.

murder by death, "the big sleep"

I always eye ku threads<33

The gold-cloaked male had not found his time in Neverwinter to be what he had thought. The boy had entered that pack hoping that he would have found a home for the rest of his days; a place to grow and accomplish what he’d left his home to do. Sawyer had not felt at home in the tangle of trees, however. He had come across only one other member of the pack since his acceptance, and Goldhawk had done well to best him in a spar; it had left the Crowfeather lad feeling as though he had no place there. He was not a fighter or a man of brute force. He’d been raised on the sweet southern hospitality of his momma and his family had been very close with each other. The thoughts did well to trouble him as he spent his days there, in the wood.
 
When the call sounded for their leader, Sawyer’s ears swiveled atop his crown and he turned his skull in the direction of the summons. There was another on their borders. He did not know if it was his place to greet the other wolf, but he was certain that Scimitar would be busy with his new children. Fixing his pale gaze on the trees that led toward the calling stranger, his ivory legs forced him into a lope.
 
Drawing nearer to the edge of the wood, the southern wolf lifted his head and peered curiously at the other who sat on the borders. He seemed to know his way around the area well enough, which prompted the thought that he may have belonged to that pack before. Still, the boy did not carry the scent of the forest on his coat and so Sawyer tilted a brow and canted his head to the left. “Howdy there, fella. Boss might be a bit busy right now, but what can I do to help ya?” he inquired with the familiar twang of his southern voice ringing true.

this is a phone post sry in advance *thumbs up*

He waited patiently, fully expecting to see his father emerge from beneath the boughs of the evergreens. If not him then perhaps Eshe would make an appearance, though he found he still was uncertain of his feelings towards her. It couldn't have been any worse than his mother, anyway. Bazi had taken on two males, and perhaps that had given him reason enough to try and find his footing elsewhere. His thoughts coalesced, burning slowly as uncounted minutes ticked by.

Then finally, his ears picked up an approach. Eagerly he looked to the woods ahead of him as if his silver eyes could pierce through the knotted trunks. But the wolf that emerged was decidedly not Scimitar. At least the last time he had saw his father, he hadn't been sporting a coat of gold. The drawl that came with his greeter was just as foreign. Understandable, but somewhat different than anything the yearling had ever heard.

"I'm here to see my father," he replied. It was the simplest answer he could give, though he was there for far more than a social visit. Still, Pasha felt he could be patient. "How long do you think he'll be?" Maybe it was long enough, he spend the time seeing the sights... though truth be told he didn't see what was so great about the greenery apocalypse that was going on.

The golden wolf was somewhat taken aback at the thought that this stranger had come across the borders in search of his father. Though he wasn’t dimwitted, he did find himself struggling with the concept of Scimitar having fathered the young man. Instead of standing there gawking, Sawyer flicked his champagne eyes onto the form of the stranger and found himself growing more and more confused. Had he left the pack in search of something more? Was he on the same mission as Sawyer? Not wanting to pry too heavily, the southern lad made an effort to clear his throat before speaking back to the curt wolf on the borders – like father like son, he supposed.
 
“Ah, well, I’ll be damned… uh… I am afraid ya’ll have taken me a lil’ off m’guard,” he drawled after a moment. His words were followed by a good-natured chuckle, hoping to lighten the serious mood that he felt had drifted over the two of them. “Y’know, I don’t know how long your pop will be. He’s been…” taking care of the pups was his initial sentence, but he was finding a realization that that may not have been the best response to this wolf. “He’s been awful busy, y’see. Fightin’ the good fight.”
 
They had not even been introduced and there was a startlingly high chance that Pasha thought Sawyer was off his rocker. If the southern beast could gather his legs and actually form a straight sentence, perhaps he wouldn’t struggle so much at first impressions. “I don’t mind keepin’ ya company, though,” the golden lad tacked on with a swift smile.

It was tempting, just for a moment not to conceal the urge to smirk. It had been too hard to miss that his appearance was tripping up his greeter, though perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered why his father wouldn't have mentioned him, or his siblings. Then again, Pasha had been the one who made the decision to go back to his mother suddenly. It had been in part of natural curiosity to see his younger siblings, but also to ensure that she had been fine as well. In the end, his mother and siblings had seemingly turned out all right and the stories therein had been reason enough for him to now want the same for his father.

And besides, his own siblings had dispersed from Bazi to venture off... all except maybe Swift. Pasha had grown distant from his blind-eyed brother a long time ago. So instead of the smirk that came to his face, he found himself opting to smile a little until his ears picked up on and his brain processed fighting the good fight. A phrase lost on him, his interests and wonders went spinning wildly somewhere else.

"Wait, hold on," he said as the man continued past. "What do you mean, he's 'fighting the good fight'? Is there something going on? War?" It piqued his interests naturally, but not because he was a fighter. No, genuine concern laced itself through his tones; if anything, Pasha would have rather been there as a protector than just some visitor.

“Pasha,” the man greeted, rounding the corner. His son’s call was perhaps the most welcome sound he had heard in days – until he realized that it was likely the boy had not heard the news of Whittier yet. Dread had filled him in that moment – and the gut-wrenching reminder of how he had lost one of his boys. He had been a shell for days now since the news, avoiding all except his mate and two youngest children..
 
He had not caught their conversation, though cast a nod to Sawyer, uncertain of the two had traded names with one another. “Sawyer, this is my oldest son, Pasha. Pasha, this is Sawyer, one of our newest recruits.” He paused then, his muzzle tipping to nudge the boys cheek in quiet welcome, feeling his chest tighten with the apprehension of the news he would need to deliver. “I’m glad your home.”

When the stranger on the borders began to grow concerned with his father’s well-being, Sawyer realized that he had made a mistake. His mouth gaped and closed once as he felt heat rise to his cheeks. “Uh… gee, uh no… there ain’t no war,” he tried to recover, but he was saved by the appearance of the teal-eyed leader of the forest. At the sight of the alpha, the golden wolf’s shoulders relaxed and he immediately made himself submissive in his form. His pale eyes flashed toward Scimitar once and then toward the ground sheepishly. There was a quick introduction of the two wolves and Sawyer nodded his head to the son of the alpha. Pasha he mulled through his mind once or twice before realizing that he really had no place there.
 
“Well, Hoss, I’m done stickin my paws in my mouth for today… you two probably ought to catch up,” he spoke to Scimitar with another submissive bow of his head. “Pleasure talkin’ to ya,” he then offered to Pasha with a small smile. Knowing that the father and son would be better off without his awkward company, the golden-clad creature turned toward the forest and disappeared into the tangle of trees.

idek if this makes any sense because i am so worn out from the heat... but i wanted to reply. @__@

In the split-second that Pasha realized he had misunderstood, his father seemingly appeared from the dense woodland. The movement immediately drew the yearling's gaze, his silver eyes locking onto the familiar and yet seemingly different visage that could not have been any other than Scimitar. Yet the boy did not try to pinpoint what it was that seemed so different about his father. Rather, it was a smile that broke across the seriousness of his expression in a flash to hear such words.

Pasha bounded forward to greet him with childish joy—it had been too long. His head slipped beneath his father's furry chin, coiling up to enthusiastically lick; his tail, could it have whipped to and fro any faster, would have tried to fly off. Whatever worries he had harbored a moment ago were extinguished now, his father safe and sound. The notion he had misunderstood was also discarded.

In all this, he missed the drawling tones of Sawyer and the subsequent departure.

"I missed you," he murmured, abandoning the idea he was truly an adult.

His eyes followed Sawyer, offering the golden wolf a gentle nod, though speaking nothing yet – he feared his voice would waver with the emotion he felt in his chest. When Pasha rushed forward, he draped his muzzle down to the boy, the equivalent of a wolfish hug and breathed in deeply – still the lingering scent of Bazi, and yet Pasha remained the same as always – his boy.
 
“I missed you too,” he returned with a quiet mumble, his muzzle preening the soft fur of the yearling before he finally pulled back, his eyes soft. “And I want to hear the news of your travels, and how your siblings are.. but there’s something I need to tell you.”
 
He did not pause for long – it was news he could scarcely wrap his own mind around.. the thought of having to bury ones child before you. And yet there had been no body – simply the void with passed on knowledge that Whittier had indeed drowned. “Apparently Whittier was in Teekon Wilds. He lived with your brother, Jorunn, in a pack by the ocean. Pasha – I’m sorry. Whittier drowned only a few months ago during a famine.. His energy –“ but he cut himself off then – realizing only then that he had begun to ramble.

He basked in the affection that his father bestowed him with, for once upon a time it had been a fleeting thing. There had always been others to contend with and while now that was surely not the case (yet it was, unbeknownst to him), he took advantage of those stolen moments where he could get them. Yet such a moment was too easily tarnished with the talk of news. Whatever Pasha could gleam out of his father's gaze was little in the way of telling, not that he needed to wait long.

And when the burden of that news was set to weigh on him, it may as well have crushed him. His mouth opened but no words came; rather it was a silent release of breath being stolen from him. The next breath he drew came in sharp and pulled his gaze away. He didn't know quite how to handle such a thing. He blinked uselessly, overwhelmed by the surge of emotions that shook him to his foundation. He gaped like a fish out of water, struggling to find words that still, even as the seconds ticked past, would not come.

So he said nothing, letting only the sag of his frame and splaying ears speak for him.

And then finally, so small and quiet: "Why." He blinked. "Why would he be there? Not here? He would have been safe here," and even those words were useless floundering. And to think, he had missed his brother by mere days when he had gone back to Bazi—it was enough to tempt him to anger—and his brow furrowed with mixed emotions.

The news stole his sons breath away – just as it had his, and just as it had Allure’s. Of all the things Scimitar could try to protect his children from – bears, famine’s, and everything else with a physical presence, it seemed, heartache was not one of them. Death had taken his boy – images of his chubby son kissing the foreleg of his ex-mate as he coaxed her for milk was put on replay in his mind now, and if he had known the fate of his son, he would have tried harder – scared him in to staying with Bazi before he left.. anything.
 
Pasha voiced his own questions, and he shook his head, once more wondering how he could get word of his son’s death to his mother. Bazi had a right to know – but Scimitar was loathe to leave his current family, or ask his older children to travel such lengths. “I don’t know. I didn’t know he was here, or I would have visited him..” He had not known how upset the boy had been with him for taking Eshe as a mate – had not known that he sought Allure, otherwise they would have ensured he knew of her safety.
 
“No where has been safe here the past few months. We had a famine – only now have the herds returned.” He spoke these words quietly, willing Pasha to take them to heart. “If you want to speak to Jorunn.. he lives in a pack north from here, along the coast. Allure would go with you.”

He struggled with many concepts in the moments that followed but somehow, kept his composure. His grieving would have to come later; he hardly had the capacity then and there to process it all, to weigh out just how much that loss would sink into him. It seemed that his father had other surprises in store for him as well, as the mention of his sister pulled him firmly from his considerations.

"Allure? She's here?" He was surprised. He had known that she had left only because she was not there when he had gone to Bazi, but where she had headed was a mystery to him. It seemed all of them had found their way back, at least to one parent or another, the exception being Swift. Jorunn was somewhere out there too, but like with Swift, Pasha did not know where their relationship stood.

"How long has she been here?" he went on to ask, scarcely a pause between questions.

Pasha was surprised by his sister’s presence as well, and Scimitar briefly tipped his muzzle forward, no longer needing to reach downward for the boy had grown so large. His nose would make to gently touch at the youth’s cheek, a sad attempt to try to soothe him in such a desperate time.

“A few months – she was part of Redhawk Caldera but joined us once she realized we had settled here.” He paused then, his bright eyes studying his son’s features with unshadowed grief. He was unsure of what to say now – there was nothing that could be said to undo everything that had happened.

He took small comfort in the gesture that his father passed unto him. In a way it was like a bandaid over a scrape; time would only heal the pain that they shared. At least there was some happiness to be found, as he had not seen Allure in such a long time either. There were many more than fell into that list as well and now he felt the pressing urge to be with them all, if only it meant to ensure that they were physically safe and sound.

"At least she's okay," he said as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I mean, she is okay, right?" Had something happened to her as well? They had all been through enough over the last year to make up for a lifetime of stories. "And Kaskara? Kieran?" Names started firing away from his mouth as they came.

"Yes -- as well as can be expected given recent events. I'm sure you being here will help," he murmured quietly, his bright eyes studying the youth. Pasha had grown tall -- strong. Scimitar had always worried less about him than his other three.
 
"Kieran and Kaskara are well also.. they have pups of their own this year, and Kaskara stepped down as Beta." He paused then, tipping his muzzle lower, uncertain how the next news would be shared -- how much information could he place upon his own son? "Eshe and I.. we also have pups of our own. Two boys." That would never get to know their older brother, Whittier.. but perhaps Pasha would be part of their life.

i am having such a difficult time trying to find pasha's "voice" that he keeps going between mordecai and mojave in this post... fml haha

He hoped that his being there again would help. It was in part why he had come back as well, to be some helpful aid now that his mother was well past needing a maid or an able body to help hold some territory. Or whatever reason she had seen fit, as well as any he himself had been able to dredge up. Pasha was further soothed by the fact that all were safe and accounted for; he was no fool to realize that there had been harsh times across the region, even in the short span of it he had travelled to come back to the forest.

But his soothed emotions were derailed swiftly as his father went on to mention Eshe and apparently the children between them. He was no stranger to the courting that had come along. It had been evident months before they had even set foot back in the Wilds that things had gone sour between his parents. But where the hurt of his mother moving on had affected him, knowing his father had done the same stung all over again.

He hid those emotions away as best as he could, but it was a dreadful, tricky thing. Pasha reasoned that he was far too old now to feel replaced, or at the very least out of place. But the child within him mourned for the separation that he did not entirely understand still. His features softened again, but this time with far less grief than for the news he had received.

"When? I didn't know there would be more," and he cursed himself because for a moment, that childish tone eked out in confusion. He sought to make up for it: "I mean, mom had more, too. There's so many," and it was clear that he wasn't going to avoid it here at all; he gave up trying to sound more prim and proper than he was. "What are their names? Can I see them?"

If there was a childish hint of indignation, Scimitar did not hear it nor acknowledge it. He had not expected Eshe to be welcomed with open arms – but he could only hope his children would see her as an ally and friend at some point in their life. Bazi and his mateship had felt a lifetime ago – and somehow, it seemed as if it were only yesterday that he had cradled his first litter in the stark sunshine on the Peak.
 
“About a month. It was.. terrible timing. A foolish decision really, as days after the famine..” He shook his head, releasing a breath. Had it been the famine that had been Whittier’s ultimate end? Had he grown too weak? “They’re all fine. They’re named Cypress and Rannoch.. and of course you can.” He gave a nod toward the territory, indicating the boy need not wait upon the borders any longer – his son would always have a home with him.

A month old. That made them pretty younng, though how exact that was Pasha couldn't know. He didn't remember being that young any more. If anything, the furthest back he dared to recollect was to when they had left the Peak; he remembered the lightning and the confusion, and little more.

Still, as his father welcomed him to step beneath the needles boughs and continue forward, a smile touched his features. It felt good to be home and there was naught that would change that. He brushed against Scimitar with affection, gathering up a scent that was wholly theirs. He was ready to shake off the dust of travel.

"It will be nice to see them, and Eshe," he said, shouldering past his prior stumble. "I'll have to come by soon." At least he'd give his old man a chance to inform his mate of a potential visit. It seemed like the right thing to do, and Pasha was no stranger to the new mother phase. Last thing he wanted to do was ruffle feathers, so to speak.

Can fade here if you want?

Nodding in agreement, he noted Pasha was not quick to invite himself to see them right away – not that the large wolf minded, given the yearling was likely exhausted after his travels. “C’mon,” he motioned, inviting the Frostfur across the borders and toward the forest. He would take his son to a cache nearby – perhaps then informing him of Allure’s consistent whereabouts if he desired her company. It would be good to have Pasha home once more – especially with the heavy news of Whittier’s passing and now that the boys would be eager to explore soon – and in turn, likely get to know their family better.

works for me!

As his father turned back towards the covered wood, Pasha trailed behind. For a moment it was easy for him to let his thoughts wander a touch as he followed the older Frostfur into the territory, and he delved back to a simpler time when he would have chased after his heels instead of making short work in a few strides. But all in all, he was tired. It hadn't been an easy journey the closer he had come to the Wilds, but that had been with good reason. But things were different, as they always were. A bit of rest and some food would do him good and from there, Pasha knew he would find his footing once again.