Wheeling Gull Isle the mask i wear is the performance in the mirror

maybe @Hemlock if she can leave the den! @Ceallach or @Tapat ...someone who knows arturo ( or er, knew him when he was arturo ) :P

The information that Devin, Bain and Cearney were able to give him was …extremely varied and old. It had been over a year since any of them had seen Arturo but Boadicea had insisted he consult them first. Devin’s information was the one he decided to take as it was as new as it would come: Arturo Fearghal was some where on the coast in a place called Blackrock Depths. Whether that pack even existed anymore or if Arturo had stayed there was all up in the air. So, Rhysand makes the trek to the coast after asking for directions from a loner he brushed shoulders with: offering a plump rabbit as compensation for the directions. Rhysand always paid his debts and the last thing he wanted was to be indebted to a stranger for asking for directions; these Wilds were foreign and he’s not sure how they operate and thus he assumes that it was similar to Quicksilver Hollow and Foxfang Ravine. It was safer that way lest he find himself captive or worse.

It’s luck that he found the partial sandbar and even more luck that the pack scent that hits him as he lingers on a piece of sandbar a good bit from the shores over the salty tang of the sea air is mingled with several coywolf scents: one in particular stronger than the others. A pure coywolf lives here and if Rhysand were a praying man he might have offered some deity a prayer that it would be Arturo because if it’s not he has no idea where to go next in his efforts to find him. Devin’s year old information said “coast”. He sends up a howl announcing his presence hoping that he’s came across that Blackrock place ( whilst wondering if he actually has that kind of luck ).

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The howl surprised him and it wasn't one she was familiar with. Hemlock lifted herself from the sand to look over to where Reed and Droman played, beseeching a nearby Eirlys to watch over the children while she tended to the stranger. Hemlock was not a woman of any fancy titles nor ranks among the Undersea wolves, but, she has come to carry herself with a certain amount of poise and respect. She's come into her own, thanks to life and thanks to experience, and she doesn't wait around to see what may be needed of her. Hemlock lets loose a short howl of response and it's likely anyone else around would have heard the pair. 

"The tides shift a few times a day," Hemlock warns, lest he be stuck or the seas claim him in his attempts to cross. She searches his face for any hint of what his intentions are, but there's a bit of familiarity in his build too. Her husband and children have mixed blood but she has never considered it fully; too often she's mistaken for some cross herself. 

A woman answers his call and without any information Rhysand dips his head to her in respect going with the safety-net assumption that she’s the boss, offering her a polite “Hello”. Even if she isn’t, he thinks, she’s a pack wolf regardless and manners of Fearghals are meant to be impeccable — something that Sibyl had ingrained into his mind early on. She offers him a warning about the tide and he gives a curt nod and a rasping “Thank you.”, tucking the information into his head though he assumes he’s not saying. He’d got a mission, after all, and if the isn’t Blackrock Depths then he’s got some backtracking to do. Rhys takes a moment to gather his thoughts, to sift through the information swimming around in his head and try to go off the most recent whilst trying to decide how forward he should be. The truth is that he knows very little about his father — never even met the man — and as no idea what sort of enemies he may have made. “This wouldn't happen to be Blackrock Depths, would it?” Rhys asks her and gives pause to draw his salmon pink tongue across his jowls. “I’m inquiring because I’m looking for a man named Arturo Fearghal and my sister said that I would find him there. Admittedly, her information may be a bit outdated.” A bit was something of an understatement but thus far it had pointed him in the right direction and therefore he couldn’t entirely dismiss Devin’s knowledge as irrelevant.

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Hemlock did not have to wait very long for the real meaning of the call and she appreciated that. In some regards she hated the listless flow of someone dancing around their purpose - especially since her role in the leadership of Teaghlaigh she had no real patience to sit and wait for someone to get to the meat of things. The name that he asked for was one she hadn't heard in many, many months and Hemlock gave a little shake of her head - fully prepared to explain the loss of the pack and it's falling out before he spoke again. That brought a quick glint to her eyes, her gaze hardening somewhat as she now inspected him differently. 

"It is quite outdated." She admitted, and for a moment wondered if she should even mention her husband or leave him in his entirety to his post of watching their children. "The Depths fell apart seasons ago. It was one of our allies for a time, but, Arturo was no longer a member of the pack when that all came to pass. He was leading us in Teaghlaigh." Hemlock was uncertain about the whys of what the stranger wanted and before she would admit more. "What did you need Arturo for?" Aware now that she couldn't even provide him in reality to the male, Hemlock waited curiously for the true motive for his inquiry. 

The woman tells Rhysand that his information is quite outdated and though it comes as no general surprise he cannot help the pang of disappointment he feels nonetheless. Rhys comes to learn that evidently the Depths had fallen seasons ago but that Arturo had not been apart of it during it’s end. Instead, he’d been leading a pack she called Teaghlaigh. The word is easily recognizable to him: the family. Given the structure of Foxfang Ravine and Quicksilver Hollow — that which is it’s sister pack — this is not necessarily overly surprising. She inquires then what he needs Arturo for and Rhys inhales deeply and lets it out in a heavy sigh, wondering how in-depth he needs to go about this. He could speak freely about being the man’s son but …was that particularly useful information? Rhys didn’t think so presently. “He’s been summoned back to Quicksilver Hollow. Boadicea is …not well.” He cannot bring himself to say so bluntly that she’s dying: the woman is his grandmother after all despite that she’s never been grand-motherly nor had she truly paid him any mind except when she needed to exploit him to keep the Ravine’s leaders in line. Still, to not express the severity of her situation as discreetly as he can would be rude. Rhys’ ears flutter against his skull, shifting his weight upon the sandbar, wincing as a particularly cold wave splashes up at the fur upon his undercarriage.

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"I do not know how much help he will be." Hemlock says it quickly, and hates the honesty, and that brings a brief moment where her green eyes closed and she settled herself. Whomever she had left in Teaghlaigh laid with Lotte and who was here now was not Arturo Fearghal. She knew this. She lied to herself often otherwise that the man that shared her den space was the same man who'd bid her his bride. They shared a face but they were not one in the same. "He is most likely gathering herbs at the moment," And that was perhaps one of the easiest tells. Arturo did not know her arts and now, it was nearly the largest obsession to him. "He is very different at this point, but, we can still see how he might want to move forward with this news." Hemlock offered, because she could only admit so much and had to leave the rest in the strangers hands. 

Rhysand’s doesn’t understand what the woman is getting at, at first. He takes her words literally: that Arturo is no healer and will not be able to cure his ailing mother. Rhysand takes a breath to assure her that Boadicea was aware of her impending pass into …whatever came after but it’s her following sentence that freezes the breath in Rhys’ throat and causes his brows to furrow. Herbs? Rhysand did not know much of Arturo Fearghal — only what he was told — but he had never heard that the man had a flair for the medicine. He closes his muzzle, realizing that he probably resembles a gaping fish. They were speaking of the same man, right? “Different? Different how?” Rhysand doesn’t understand and her words weigh heavily upon him. What will it mean for him if he cannot deliver Arturo to the warrior queen of the Hollow? Surely it means he will not live to see another day. He is not half as precious to the Hollow wolves as he is the wolves of the Ravine. The Fearghal’s don’t actually need him and his own existence or about to be lack-thereof on this earth is suddenly and unwelcomingly brought to Rhysand’s attention. That is the consequence of his failure …or it will be. “Do you think talking to him will change anything or his answer?” Rhysand asks her seriously, wanting her honest opinion on the matter.

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Hemlock couldn't answer that for him. She gave a breathy sigh and let loose a howl, assuming she was pulling him away from whatever tasks he had set himself to. "It will just be easier to speak with him directly." Hemlock said ruefully. She didn't want to lie to the boy and she didn't truly know how to answer the questions he sought answers to. "Whatever he decides, be aware that you are not taking the same Arturo back that you are expecting." Hemlock knew that nothing she did or said would bring Arturo back - and she had tried - but what the stranger wanted of her she couldn't provide. She couldn't give him Arturo - she didn't even have him herself.