Silverlight Terrace are you really gonna love me when i'm gone.

Night laid thickly upon the tangled woods. It was almost eerily silent, but for the light splatter of raindrops on the yellowing leaves overhead. Summer's pelt was slick with moisture, but he was determined not to stop until he made it beyond the reach of the twisted branches that grabbed at him as he passed.

As much as he prided himself in his scouting abilities, this particular forest had flummoxed him thrice over the past day and a half. Needless to say, he was agitated as he moved through the ferns that were scattered across the forest floor - each identical to the last, just as the trees seemed to be multiplying with each step. Summer, however, was not one to simply give up. And so, he went on until eventually, he found the trees clearing away and the ground turning to rock and stone to the West, but sweeping fields of grass ahead and to the East.

Summer breathed deep the air around him after traveling another mile or so, stopping to enjoy the openness after so many hours of the stifling space between the trees. The yellow-eyed Ostrega was not and had never been a fan of small spaces. He liked wide, open areas and treeless skies. Again, his heart yearned for the Sunspire and he cast his gaze to the East in hopes of spying its peak above the horizon. The night was grey with precipitation though, impeding his view. And so, he sighed and set off again.

Rain seemed to haunt Aesop, whose mood had turned as grey as the days. All too quickly his life had turned dull as the daily repitition of routine set in. He saw little and less of his packmates, whom he would normally rely on for his entertainment. The days had been wet and dreary, the sky wreathed in clouds. With the stars masked and the days too wet to gather plants, Aesop had been left with nothing to do, no purpose to drive him. 

So he wandered. As he wandered he hunted, and what he did not eat wound up in the pack's caches. It made him feel usefull, and kept the worries that plagued him away. He had not had any word from Alastor, and his heart turned to worry turned to fear and regret. Were these the same feelings that had plagued Alastor during Aesop's own lengthy absence? If so, he felt terrible. Often Aesop's mind turned to the Greek, whose presence so comforted him. There was nothing between them but friendship, but the potential for something more was there. Aesop wanted to know what they, together, could be.

His paws took him to the flat fields where he had last seen Alastor entirely of their own accord. Had they consulted him (before his mind wandered) he would have headed any other direction. Through the haze, Aesop saw a wolf in the distance, and he called out with a short, clipped howl. The company would do him good, and perhaps would be welcomed by the other. So he approached.

Another reason Summer liked open spaces was for the fact that there was nothing obstructing his view of the terrain around him, and thus it was that much easier to spot the approach of the wolf that had called to him. The smell of damp wood lingered in his nostrils, but not thickly enough to impede the scent of the other wolf as it approached. The young prince turned to gaze across the field, his eyes narrowing until he could grasp the form sihlouetted against the haze.

There seemed to be no malignance in the other's posture, nor in the tone of his call. And so, Summer swung around to make his way towards the stranger. As he went, the dark shadow upon the landscape began to lighten into the pale, muted wraith he apparently was. The black Ostrega slowed to a stop when they were near enough to speak, his head lifting ever so slightly with caution. The stranger was a large specimen, with scars littered across his musculature. Summer himself was tall and perfectly capable of handling himself in a less than amiable interaction. But he was not unintelligent enough to put himself in needless danger.

"Hello," he started, his tone casual, "Nice to see a fellow wanderer out enjoying the weather." A ghost of a smile flickered briefly upon his lips.

Yes, company would be good for him indeed. 

Upon drawing closer Aesop found the stranger to be a male with no particularly defining features but his eyes, whose color was a welcome brightness among the grays of the day. Aesop's lips quirked into an answering smile. Oh yeah, lovely weather, don't you think? he said, and if it sounded a little bit bitter, well, he'd been haunted for days by the rain. Anyone would be a little crabby for the lack of sunshine.

He gave the other a quick once over again and found that he was soaked to the bone and bedraggled. Where are you headed in this weather? he asked casually, making conversation. Perhaps Aesop could help, and that would leave him feeling a little warm and fuzzy despite his generally poor mood.

Summer was pleased to receive a response from the stranger that suggested he had a personality within him. It boded well for the conversation that he now was more willing to partake in. The black wolf moved a bit closer as a drop of rain splashed upon his muzzle near to his eye. He shook his head to send it away, his gaze finding the other's face as he settled.

"The Sunspire," the young wolf replied promptly when asked, "I was once a member of the pack that calls the territory home. My hope is they remain there, though it has been many months since I was last in this area." He fell quiet, hopeful that the stranger might offer some knowledge of his former pack.

Sunspire, Aesop repeated, looking around at the mountains pensively. The name suggested it was a twin to the Moonspear Aesop called home, and so he assumed, perhaps wrongly, that the peak would be the Moonspear's match in height. The Barrier Mountains held no such peak, and Aesop had not traveled the mountains further to the east.

Never heard of it, he said, shrugging apologetically. You sure you don't mean Silvertip? Last I heard they were still there. Alastor had gone to Silvertip Mountain to apologize for his absence. That didn't necesarily mean the mountain was still inhabited, nor by the same wolves who had lived there when his friend had. You got a name?

The stranger repeated the name of his pack, and Summer couldn't help but feel a little thrill at hearing someone else saying the name aloud. He smiled slightly, feeling the pride beam from him in spite of himself. He stood a little straighter, even though he felt the desire to fall just a bit when the other wolf went on to admit that he had never heard of the place. Summer didn't wilt though, instead just shook his head to confirm that he did not mean to say whatever lesser pack the other had mentioned. Sunspire, and only ever Sunspire.

"My name is Summer," he replied, dipping her muzzle slightly, "Summer Ostrega. It's a shame that you don't know of the Sunspire. I mean no offense by saying it, but I hope it's due to naivete and not that the pack is no longer there." Although, that might suit his plans better if there were no wolves to battle for the claim he sought to make. "Where is it you come from?" he asked on a whim, the curiosity striking him almost randomly.

Naivete! he exclaimed, then laughed a moment before continuing, not unkindly. Ain't nobody accused me of that in a while. But yeah, could damn well be that. Hope it's still around, too, for all that's worth. He knew the disappointment and despair that came with returning to one's home and finding it empty. Nearly a year ago he had done so, returned to the bay only to find it abandoned. This time he had not been so optimistic, but was pleased to find that Moonspear, at least, was still inhabited by familiar faces.

At the question, Aesop merely pointed his nose at the peak behind them. Then, deciding that wasn't enough of an answer, added, I live right up there. Called Moonspear, he said. So I'd guess your mountain is nearby. They've got, like, matching names after all. I think. At least, that's how it seemed to him.

Summer's comment illicited a bark of laughter. A small smile slipped across his muzzle at this and he chuckled lightly. The stranger offered a kind sentiment, but seemed wholly unconvinced that the Sunspire pack still existed. The Ostrega was unperturbed. He had his doubts as well, but he too had more reason to hold onto the hope he did have.

Moonspear. "They do, don't they..." Summer wondered aloud, his gaze turning up in the direction his new friend gestured. It was a tall peak upon the landscape, but he knew that it was not the one he sought. But still, he was intrigued. "I've not heard of it before. Aptly named, though. Have you been there long...?" His voice trailed as he realized then that the pale wolf had not given his own name.

With the way nature and the politics of the land moved, Aesop did not expect that the pack in question was still around. The shifting geopolitical landscape of the wilds left little room for permanance; he was surprised that Moonspear was still around, if he was honest.

Almost immediately he realized that he had yet to provide his name. Aesop, he said. Should've probably told you my name earlier. He shrugged. I've been there a few months now, I guess.

Aesop. Summer smiled and gave an appreciative nod. It was always a good thing to know the name of the one you were speaking to, particularly when they proved to be such an amiable fellow as this one.

"Is it a large pack?" he asked with a contemplative furrow of his brow. He was loathe to believe that the Sunspire pack had dispersed, but it had always been a possibility of which he had been aware. If that were the case, then Summer needed to have options. Perhaps this Moonspear would be one for him.

pp to wrap this up since summer is inactive

Aesop could hope that, if his search turned fruitless, Summer might recall that he, Aesop, had been kind and that Moonspear could welcome him. Another recruitment would only further curry favor with Charon, and somewhere along the line Aesop had turned into the kind of teacher's pet that desired his Alpha's favor. That would pass, he was sure, but for now he still made attempts.

Big, but I don't think we're too big to turn away newcomers, he said. Keep us in mind, I guess. You're a good guy, I think, and I'm good at readin' wolves. I still hope things go right with your old pack, though. It was not long after that that they parted, Aesop for his home and Summer for the wilds.