Redhawk Caldera I will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines

The late spring sun warmed the land with an idyllic glow. Radiant beams sharpened the colours of the field of waving grass, and the wind eddied through the blades in a pulse of ebbs and flows. Their golden strands tickled against her and hid her from the eyes of those who might be watching - much like the waters she had been pulled from and followed until she'd turned toward the mountain and found herself here, where the memories ached like a nearly remembered dream.

This place meant as much to her as the mountain, but there were many things different, and many lives missing. Scents scattered here and there, fresh but unfamiliar, and not what she sought. They meant nothing to her - but this place did, and Muse rolled over with a heavy sigh, and tried to piece together the things she remembered. He had been here with her, laughing beneath the darkening sky - but tonight, the stars would receive a silent welcome.

This time, when Gannet strayed, he went home. Well, not home. But he was curious - @Hydra had told him the Caldera was empty, and he wished to see it himself. He had told her that he was going, and (I'm assuming) she had agreed (kit can punch me if I'm wrong).

So he left the mountain and shot west, enjoying still the sensation of running, even after all this time. In the winter at times his leg had stiffened, but now that spring was well under way, the air felt nice and the weather was perfect.

It was like she said... there was no one here. He paced through, searching, his tail low and his ears forward. Where had they gone? There had been a war.... had they really lost like Hydra thought? He didn't enjoy that idea, and his ears tilted back as he gazed at the lake. He'd chosen another family, but he hadn't revoked his own completely. They were still his blood.

He felt a surge of hope when he spotted the figure lying in the meadow a bit later, while ranging across looking for signs. But it turned to an ache when he realized he didn't recognize her. Well, maybe she knew?

"There was a pack." He said, no introduction, just a statement followed by a question. "D'you know where they are?"

The world ran quiet for a long while - just Muse, and the crickets, and the dawning stars. She watched them blink one by one until they splashed the sky in a dazzling canvas of constellations and maps that could take her anywhere but where she wanted to go. Useless. Muse stole one last glance at the sky before she flopped onto her side. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could imagine him there, on the ground next to her, pressing down the long grass with his shadows and laughing through the night. Maybe she could piece together where he had gone from here.

She stared, not really expecting anyone to appear - but when one did, she propped herself up and blinked. Still sprawled on her side, she leaned forward and tried to discern their features through the dark. He looked plain and nothing out of the ordinary, yet when he came close she felt something of a recognition kindle. Small, and minute - but there. She cupped her ear forward when he spoke.

"No," she gave a shake of her head and leaned back to process the weight of his words. So a pack had been here! For the first time, she felt something of a trust in her memory; this place felt so familiar because it had been her home. Though this boy didn't know where the pack had gone, and couldn't help her in that, he knew a pack had been here, and that recognition she felt - her interest stayed trained toward him. "I came here looking for them, but wouldn't you know it's been deserted. I used to live with them. Did you, too?"

"Oh." His face fell again in disappointment when she denied knowing them. He'd hoped she might have answers, but it seemed like he might not find out what went on here. "Yeah. Long time ago." He looked at her a little more closely. "I don't remember you."

She was either newer than when he'd left, or it had been too long. Either way, her face wasn't familiar, but she had obviously been left behind also. Well, he wasn't left behind. He'd technically left them. But there had been some measure of happiness in knowing even if he was gone, the Caldera was still here and thriving. "They fought," he said, all the explanation he knew. He wondered if she even knew that much?

"Hmm." So she wasn't familiar, and this posed a perplexing case. Perhaps they had simply crossed paths, and nothing further. That would explain why she felt a dim familiarity with him. Though she struggled to piece broader details together, she had realized, early on, she could remember faces and the looks of places better than anything else. Names still dangled beyond her grasp, but appearances stuck with her even through the fog that clouded her mind. Maybe she had just always been good with those.

But despite his lack of recognition, the boy did give her a piece that clicked into the history she had managed to construct since she'd found the river and followed the waterways here. Her scars certainly suggested a battle, and when piled with the recollection of flashing teeth and the sting of another's blood that sometimes crept through the vast recesses of her mind - "Yeah. They did. I think that's when I lost them." And she felt a prickling fear. Had he been around for the battle? He couldn't have been - unless she'd been out longer than she knew. No, her wounds were still too fresh. They reminded her of reality, and she stilled her mind to focus again on how this boy could help her. "I took a fall into a river and must've hit my head hard, or lost enough air that it did something to my memory. I remember this place - but I don't. That's why I came back. I hoped this place would give me some answers, but, well, you know," she gave a wolfish shrug and glanced around to accentuate the emptiness. She returned her gaze to him, "Could you tell me about the wolves who lived here?"

If she lost them during the fight, then that really only reinforced that they lost, right? He should be glad to not have been with them, but all he felt was a gnawing guilt. He hadn't known, but if he had been able to help....

"Hydra thinks they lost," Gannet said, not meeting her eye. She asked about them, and he nodded. That he could do, somewhat. "They were my family." He stopped. What did she want to know? Names? "Finley, Elwood, Towhee, Titmouse, Orca, Lagan, Phox.....". He didn't know any of the others well enough to remember them.

She watched his face, even as he turned away, yet she found him easy to read even without his eyes toward her. They lost. And for the moment her ears heard nothing else. What did that mean for her, too? How badly had they lost? She remembered protecting one of them - the last memory before the world turned black, and the man she looked for. But what if she was too late? He always seemed like someone strong, resilient, yet she realized in her sharpest memories, thoughts of him were always accompanied by the tang of blood, the sickly warmth of herbs, and the gnawing sense of a deep and gnawing uncertainty.

Troubled for both their plights, and not wanting to dwell any further, "I'm sorry," was all she could say. If not for the names now vying for a spotlight in her mind, she'd have taken a beat to ask if he was alright. Yet she found herself preoccupied, and she flipped through the list he gave her, here and there recalling a few - but every one felt distant and throbbing, and nothing like the way her surname had resounded when she'd heard it so clearly on the beach. But wait - and she tipped her head with a thoughtful turn, finally giving thought to all that the boy had spoken, because she did recognize one above the rest.

"They all sound familiar - but hazy. Hydra, though. You know her?"

She asked about Hydra, and Gannet nodded, once again looking at her and calming some. There was a warmth in thinking of his friend that cut through the not unfamiliar sensation of loss... and he knew he would get through this as he had the others. He could do nothing else, because nothing could change what had already passed, and dwelling was not in his nature.

"She's my best friend. My new family," he said, though he was curious then. "Why?" He knew Hydra took a lot of trips; her recent absence had been long. So it wasn't unthinkable that she would have come across this wolf in that time. Why did she want to confirm it? He'd said as much when he mentioned her.

The pale boy seemed to ease, and a familiar warmth took hold of his face. Different than what one would show if speaking of a mere acquaintance, she reasoned, and Muse was curious - and he was quick to reason why. His simple words, coupled with the obvious warmth he held for her, made Muse's opinion of Hydra skyrocket, and the Ostrega found an easy smile cross her lips.

"I met her by the ocean. She's the one who helped me remember who I am, and all that dramatic jazz." She grinned through her words even as she searched for them. Muse. Ostrega. Andalusia. There it was. "Andalusia Ostrega," she gave with a grin and a thump of her tail, "That's my name. But if it's easier to remember, just call me Muse. Turns out she's my family, too."

Andalusia. "It's pretty," he said, liking the sounds it made. Her full name flowed way better than his... Gannet Redhawk... but he wouldn't trade his for hers still. "Andalusia." He'd call her that.

"You could come with?" He asked, wondering if she had anywhere else to go now. If she liked Hydra, and Hydra liked her, and she was family... surely she'd be welcome at the mountain! Obviously there was nothing left here, answers or otherwise.

I'm okay fading here, or with your next post, unless you want to keep going! We could also get a joining thread up at Moonspear, if that'd be a better route from this (:

She found her face warm with a smile, and her tail swished the ground in a quiet thanks. Muse was much easier for her to remember - but hearing the boy speak her true name now - she simply knew, with great certainty, that Andalusia would always be who she was.

Andalusia tipped her head, thoughtful upon the tall and distant mountain. Hydra, too, had offered her a place among them, an offer she'd waived at the time. But that had been many long weeks ago, when her hopes had still run high. She had found many things since then, trails and memories that led her here - but this was where each one of them ended. Perhaps she would remember the dark man she sought. His name felt close to the tip of her tongue, and she was sure she would remember him. But what then? What would a name do, if this pack was gone? Maybe they had moved - but where? And what if they were simply that - gone?

She had energy left to travel, but every day, her weariness gripped longer, and the hunger gnawed deeper. Her wounds still ached, and truly, she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten anything but scavenged carcasses left over by some predator who'd already had their fill. She had energy left - but how much, and how long until she found herself a fly-strewn carcass to be scavenged and fed on herself?

Andalusia was no quitter; she needed to keep going - but she knew and understood her limits, too. And she had already well surpassed hers. There was family to be seen on this mountain, and help offered twice. She reckoned no other pack would take in a battered old hound like herself - and there was at least some hope here. "Thank you." She dipped her head to the boy and eased to her feet, and a soft smile sketched across her face - bittersweet at the thought of the trail she put down, but thankful for the rest she could almost taste. "I think that would be good."

ill close out and we can have another at Moonspear!! I can start it up or you can if you get there first!

Gannet's face broke into his biggest beam yet when she agreed, and he hopped happily, enthusiasm clear. She was a friend to Hydra, a friend to him now, and she was coming to join them! Gannet was a simple sort of soul and this alone was enough to make his day... possibly his year.

"I'll take you! When you want," He said, ready enough to leave this sad place behind and return home. But if she wanted to stay, he would remain a while longer, and accompany her when she was ready to travel. At some point, though, they would depart for the mountain together, Gannet eagerly telling her of some of the family with his usual stilted lack of detail.