Lost Creek Hollow deep within the most sacred grove

It seemed all too fitting that on the eve of Samhain he would come crossing over distant mountains to rolling valleys. Arduous had been the trek thus far and the road had long left his paws weary and rough, but to say that he hadn't been left rough for some time would have been a stretch. Though the wounds had long healed and the coming winter adorned him with a plusher coat, he was far from looking the part of all right. In fact, he didn't even look like much more than a weathered scarecrow all skin stretched over stick thin trestle.

He had asked for a sign, and two ravens heralded him as he neared the recessed woodland. The pungent smell of fresh borders struck him first, gave him reason to pause. A careful test of the air did not reveal much to him other than the obvious any other could sense; one raven called from the canopy to be answered by the other, and his gaze flitted upward to question. Here? his thoughts inquired, only not to receive any answer. Like so many dreams he had ever had, such entities had never spoken before and why they would start now was beyond him.

Hesitantly, he decided to linger a beat longer before daring to travel the stretch of markings that wove along the thinning tendrils of timber. He heard the crow call again, this time the second one, and struggled to recall any warnings he knew of a pair. How did that go?

One for sorrow, two for mirth—and after that it became just as muddled to him as the jumble of days into weeks into months of things better left covered and kept out of prying eyes. His pointed muzzle hovered over the wilting grasses, passed over fading blooms that somehow still dared to cling on when the weather had turned so unfavorable. But so have you, came the whisper in time with the revelation of the creek, and his steps halted as he stopped at its edge.

terance had been patrolling, as he often was. it was very rare not to find him doing some sort of labor or chore. there were mouths to feed and borders to protect, especially since the move. they had to reestablish caches and make sure loners knew that this territory was claimed. so far, terance thought, it had been going well. but that didn't mean there was time to slack.

he spotted a wolf another the borders, sniffing. his ears pressed forwards, tail raising to arc above his back. terance alerted the stranger of his presence with a low, warning chuff, and then he stood himself before the man, on the other side of the marked line, and stared. "can i help you?" he asked, neither with coldness or amiability.

He considered then for a moment a simple scrying—what effort would it take to dislodge one of the inlaid stones to cast into the water? For the temptation therein would be for naught, as he had tried this many a time since his exile and nothing came of the ripples. It were as though the nooks and crannies of Ravenspire had been imbued with their own wards—or at least had been. He did not spare much of a thought for what remained of its heart, lest he desired to dredge up all that was bound to come out along with it.

Still, his gaze traveled over many of the stones there in the mud in consideration. So deep was his focus that he did not hear the approach of another, nor the warning chuff that came to follow. Truth be told he should have heard it, should have had a better sense of awareness and a guard to go with it. But it was the flat tone in the set of words that came to him that drew him out of his deliberations to remind him why he had come there, and briefly his eyes went to scan for the ravens.

They were gone.

And that left him with the wolf to his side, who he regarded very much as flatly and silently as his approach had been to him. Green eyes crossed over ones that mirrored his own, albeit they were more vivid and bright. Emeralds, he heard, but whether it was his voice or something from the ether was another story altogether. Compassion rests in shades of emerald, it urged, and he only then realized he was being silent, and his gaze fell to the wilting grasses away from the wolf.

”I am sorry to intrude,” he murmured, scarcely louder than a whisper. How unlike him to lack the strength to speak, yet perhaps wise here. This wolf out classed him in an instant as they often did; he was a small, spindly thing, and a wolf could easily snap him in two if he did not keep his wits about him. Never mind his own mixed heritage, the only thing wolf about him was his size.

He dared to steal another glance to those gem-like eyes the wolf held and found instead, an innate sadness come creeping forth. He deemed him a mirror then and there and looked away opposite of earlier. ”Forgive me, I was in thought when you came,” he started again, this time with strength he had deprived the former line of. ”I was drawn to your waters, and borders here. Have you room for another? Need of a healer, perhaps?” The words fumbled out of his mouth, deliberate in their placement and wary.

word count: 460

the man seemed dazed, but not in any way that was concerning to the hollows leader. he gave a solemn nod as the man apologized, silent reassurance that there were no problems here. terance understood the toll that traveling sometimes had on others-- clearly it had not surpassed this man.

"yes, we could always use healers," responded terance, unaware of how desperately they would need one in the coming days as well, "my name is terance, and this is lost creek hollow." the introduction was simple enough, as it should have been. terance gave one gentle dip of his head. "could you tell me about yourself?" he asked, feeling that a bit of backstory was important in the case of joiners. terance found himself wary to accept a random stranger after recent events, but optimistic enough to give him a fair chance. he seemed normal enough. 

a small smile pressed itself onto the mans face, his ears cupping forwards to hear the man better.

The wolf did not seemed particular bothered by his lack of composure. At least if he had, then he was expert in not letting it show, which very well may have been the case. He had always been told that there were strange lands outside of their little world. Individuals that were perhaps not so forthright in their intentions, ones who sought to seize their own gain than rather share it with the collective world. He knew the world to be a very vast place, so vast in fact that when posed with the question of having to talk about himself he did not know where to begin.

But the wolf—Terance—had at least offered him a stepping stone. An introduction and the name to their little unfixed corner of the world. He could have grimaced at the name, a lost creek that branched through a hollow sounded like some sort of name out of a childish story he would have told to his own. Only then did he desire so strongly to train his eyes to the creek again, to the stones, and wonder what the bubbling waters below had to say. Shame the crows went away, he thought, for at least they may have offered him a distraction.

All eyes upon him; he drew in a breath.

”Well, I am a healer as I've no doubt explained. A traveler, evidenced in my appearance. I am no good at speaking of myself, so what would you like to know instead? My intentions?” he inquired in return. It was a blunt approach from someone so meager, but he hoped his honesty would net him favor. Please don't let it be hopes and dreams, he kept to himself, for even the harshness of the wilting world around him seemed to seep inward and sneer. The smile the wolf offered went unseen.

He thought to continue, but then thought better of it. Let Terance have his piece.

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how human of him-- wolf of him?-- how completely relatable. terance grinned as the man mentioned he was not so good at speaking of himself, easily remembering how hard he himself found talking about himself. terance would also never ask about his hopes and dreams-- angsty as it was, terance had few of those nowadays. aspirations were simply not in the forefront of the hollow's leadership.

instead, he asked. "could we start with your name?" he asked, lightheartedly, "and i suppose intentions would be a good thing to hear."

This time, he heard the shift in tone to something more welcoming and sharply felt himself become wary. It wasn't so much the shift in tone as it was the first question—he had no name, really. That had been stripped from him much in the way home, hearth, and health had been; it had not occurred to him until that moment that he would ever really need a name to get him anywhere. Of course he could have easily said to hell with tradition, but maybe, just perhaps, he did not know any better. Foolish as it may have been. He had never been one for the formalities that came with the role he was in, let alone the role Terance was in.

He would have to work in reverse, and thus began with his intention.

”My intention is to do more than simply survive. A mere exchange of services for a home,” and he already wanted it all to be over with. This was annoying—he should have never suggested making a list of intentions in the first place. His brow furrowed at the passing cord of tension that arose, eyes still intently focused and yet unfocused with the ground. He licked his lips and pressed onward without hesitation.

”I realize my heritage may be unorthodox, but I can be an asset in more than healing. I am no less capable of fulfilling requirements than another.” He could hunt, he could... patrol, as utterly boring as that sounded, and he could fill niche roles. Scout for this, gather that, bury it all underneath the dust and dirt, and the list went on. ”What I don't know, I will learn, and should my abilities not be up to par then I would take no offense in being asked to leave.” It wouldn't have done him any good to argue, not now and not then and not ever. Presumably.

”As for my name,” he concluded, this time with a clear sign of hesitation, ”I suppose you can call me Tarot.” Seemed a fitting name for an otherwise disgraced individual, albeit plucked from thin air.

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terance found no problems with the question he presented-- it was his own suggestion, after all. 

his head dipped respectfully to the story, having nothing important to comment on. it seemed generic enough, specific enough. terance found no problems with it. "then welcome, tarot, we have room among our ranks for you, i trust you'll pull your weight," he said with a small, amiable smile. the dark male nodded for the other to follow him across the borders. "i can show you around, come." 

the process was simple as that. they could always use the help, and two healers was certainly ideal. terance found no problems with the situation at hand.

How intriguing—he anticipated another round of questions and answers, perhaps some sort of drawn out deliberation as to whether or not he would be worthy enough to stay. Even a test of his skills, his mettle, something. It was not the sort of thing that he would have decided on someone simply by a yes or a no, not so easily. It was however, the sort of thing that caught him by surprise enough to invoke just the faintest of reactions; his ears piqued briefly, his pointed muzzle lifting as though he needed to see for himself that he was not about to be run off like some common nuisance.

Green eyes watched as the wolf—Terance, he reminded himself—turned then, ushering him to follow. Seemed a tour was at hand and almost dumbly the coywolf fell in line with only a hesitant glance back to the waters that had brought him to a halt in the first place. He soon righted his line of sight, letting it wash over Terance again only to feel the same pinpricks of that peculiar sadness grasp him.

He wondered if perhaps he were projecting, though sorrow had been thoroughly scraped clean of him. He'd lost that right, drowned the emotion in himself somewhere ago in scrying pools many miles and weeks back. Still didn't out rule the possibility however, but he was not much of an empath by any means. Keen enough to sense the turmoil of others, but not enough to understand it. Not skilled or knowledgeable enough to decide whether it was of his own design or simply shards from another, and he never would be.

So he let it go in a reliving breath, intent to attempt to shed it against the wilting ferns they brushed past. ”You are a kind soul,” he offered as thanks, closing the distance then between them to something more manageable. Not too close, not too far, something that only felt respectable and let them move as a unit. It was time to learn now, time to grow.

word count: 342

"it's no big deal," responded terance, who was generally amused by the comment. still, he appreciated it. he led the male into the territory, giving him a quick tour and then sending him on his way. howling his presence to the pack and rubbing his scent onto tarot. this was a good beginning, terance thought.