Heron Lake Plateau Taurus

Tegan's Tears, where Towhee told him to wait. ;)
Backdated to October 30th. (-96 hours)

He woke slowly, the steady crash of the waterfall pulling him out of his slumber. It was still cold, but the rain had died down. Unfortunately, his proximity to the waterfall meant that he was constantly barraged by the mist that it kicked up on a constant basis. He shivered, feeling as wretched on the outside as he did on the inside. His mouth was dry, his fever rising, and his bladder somehow full even though he felt he hadn't drank in days.

Phox struggled to his feet, making his way over to a calmer part of the falls (stopping briefly to empty his bladder), eventually finding a place where he could reach the water. It was freezing cold, almost ice, but he drank anyway. It hit his stomach like a kick in the gut, and he winced, hoping that the food he'd gotten from Towhee yesterday wouldn't try to come back up. He closed his eyes and breathed for a few seconds, hoping somehow that would settle his stomach.

When he finally reopened them, a moose stood on the other side of the river, staring intently at him. It was almost as if it knew he could do no harm in his current state. Taurus, he murmured, remembering the name for the moose that hung in the sky on clear nights.

Just as she'd suspected, @Raven was currently somewhere beyond the borders, searching for their missing pack mates. But Towhee was able to track down @Quixote at the Alpha pair's den and chat with him briefly. Their exchanged words floated about in her head as Towhee went about her daily duties, which eventually included returning to the borders for another patrol. Rather than sending X, she would send word in person.

She didn't hurry; she performed her routine guard, leaving the falls for last. When she approached them, she found herself musing about the name. She'd called them Tegan's Tears, although they had a more formal name: Fox Falls. Towhee knew her mother's and brother's names matched phonetically, even though the signs differed. She was glad she hadn't given him the actual name, lest he think they'd named the landmark in his honor. Towhee snorted.

Her sharp orange eyes spotted Phox and the moose in the same instant. She froze in her tracks, muscles tensing. They appeared to be in engaged in a staring contest. The towering ungulate wasn't so close that it posed an imminent threat, though Towhee stayed very still nonetheless, deliberating her next move.

Taurus looked right, and Phox followed his gaze, landing on Towhee. When Phox looked back at the moose, it was already trotting off (can moose even trot?), apparently not wishing to deal with two wolves, even if one was incapable of doing much of anything. Phox watched it with mild interest, taking it as a sign of... something. He was not really sure what to make of its appearance just yet, but perhaps he would come to a conclusion in time. Right now, his whole body, his whole mind, and his whole soul ached.

Towhee's arrival brought about mixed emotions for the yearling. He was grateful that she had come back before he had died, but he also feared the worst: that Raven had forsaken him and he was to be put to death. If anybody was willing to do it, it would likely be Towhee. Hell, she might even relish in the thought of slaughtering another shitty brother. At least Phox hadn't done something so fucked up as raping his surrogate mother slash sister. The Redhawk was still trying to process that information, although he doubted he would ever get the full story on what had gone down that day.

With his attention on Towhee, he awaited to hear his fate.

An ear flicked when the moose turned and trotted off into the distance, her burning bright eyes following its movements until it became nothing more than a brown speck. Towhee then turned to her brother, maintaining her silence for a long beat as she again weighed her conversation with Quixote in her mind.

"You can stay here," she finally said, making no move to get any closer, "but you'll hold the lowest rank and you won't be welcome to the Redhawk name until you've proved—no, redeemed—yourself. If you fail to meet these expectations, I'll be the first to show your ass to the door. And if you violate our trust in any way," Towhee finished levelly, "I'll break your neck myself."

So the answer was a (tentative) yes. He breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew it would not be an easy transition. Towhee would make him work hard for it, but Phox was willing to put in the work to make her understand he was repentant. He wanted so much to forge a relationship with her, but he knew that it would be an incredibly long journey, and that was assuming he didn't take a wrong turn and end up at an entirely different destination.

He did not understand how she could take the name he was born with from him, but he did not question her. Doing so would surely make him look as though he were trying to tell her how to forgive him, so he held his tongue and swallowed hard. He believed that he could make amends, but it would take a lot of effort. He would earn his name back, and he would earn their trust back.

For not being a leader, Towhee sure was acting a lot like one. He wondered why she no longer held the role and what events had granted her such a high place among her peers in the first place.

-Thank you,- he signed, awaiting her signal for what to do next.

Phox accepted her words meekly (at least, that's how Towhee interpreted his reaction). He did not ask for terms, so she didn't mention any. In order to earn his place—and forgiveness—he would simply have to show Towhee and the rest of the Redhawks that he could be a loyal, contributing member. It would take time, probably lots of it.

"You should stick to the outskirts until you've earned some trust," the she-wolf advised, "and definitely steer clear of the Alphas' den." Towhee blinked slowly as she pondered what else to add. "If the time comes when you're deemed trustworthy, I'll give you a tour myself. I'll—" She'd been about to mention taking him by Orca's grave, yet the words died in her throat. She shook her head and left it there. It just didn't feel appropriate yet.

Not being able to go near the Alphas' den was going to be rough. Phox was so used to being allowed everywhere within his home. Then again, Heron Lake Plateau was not the caldera, so perhaps it would not be so odd after all. At the very least, he would be able to go back and see their parents' grave. That was not something he wished to divulge to Towhee... at least not yet. He wanted to apologize to them, even though he had never met them. He felt he had failed them, and some part of him hoped that explaining things out loud to them would help.

Just like with Towhee, he wanted to rush to everybody he had ever known that lived here and grovel at their feet, hoping beyond hope that he could make them understand he had changed. He had been a dumb child back then, and a lot had changed in the year since he had been gone. Primarily, he had learned that running away from his problems did not fix them. In fact, it seemed to exacerbate them, causing them to grow larger and larger to the point that he had felt suffocated by them.

He knew he could not rush this. He had to take things one step at a time, and first on the list was getting back into decent shape. His knowledge of the night sky had grown since he had left, as had his ability to hunt, but he couldn't do either of those things very well until he was healthy. Phox needed rest, food, and warmth. His first objective would be to find somewhere on the outskirts to sleep out of the cold and rain. Do you know if there's somewhere nearby I can bed down for now? he asked. It was the first real favor he had asked of her (besides the near-begging to let him stay). Considering she knew this place so much better than him, it only made sense that she might have an idea. Or she could brush him off and leave him to his own devices.

Towhee appreciated that he didn't press her. He did make a request, though, which caused her expression to harden for a split second before she coaxed her facial muscles to relax somewhat. This was his home now too. He might not be a Redhawk (in her eyes) and he had yet to prove his worth—he was at the very bottom of the heap—but he was still an official member of the pack now.

"There's lots of crevices in the plateau's base. Just find one that suits you," she answered with a dismissive wave of her forepaw. "There's also thickets and whatnot up on the plateau proper." Although Towhee did sort of hope he'd just stick around the foot, he wasn't outright banished from entering their primary territory. He'd just better watch himself...

She didn't say anything for a long moment, nor did she move. At length, Towhee said, "I gave Screech a second chance. It was the worst fucking mistake I ever made." Her ears twisted backward as if in anger toward the memories this provoked. "But if I could that total shitstain one, then..." Just like she couldn't bring herself to mention Orca's grave, she couldn't bring herself to complete her sentence. But the implication was there: tentative but there, all the same.

He had expected a more pithy reply, but she responded with just as much information as he needed to find something comfortable. Based on her answer, he would certainly look for a crevice before attempting to make a spot further into the pack's territory. Phox fully intended to take this process as slow as possible. He did not want to make any missteps or cause Towhee (or anybody else) to think he was anything less than sincere. He knew he was walking on thin ice, and every step was a carefully calculated tiptoe forward.

Again, he resolved himself not to provoke Towhee further or make her think any less of him. He would redeem himself, even if it took the rest of his godforsaken life to do so. Hell, he'd do it in the afterlife if it came right down to it. He was not sure what kind of response she wanted from him, so he remained silent, more scared than anything to speak, lest she change her mind and revoke his access home.

Home. It was a concept he had not known for a long time, and even now it felt foreign. This place would not be home until he could prove that he was worthy of it, but it was a start. Phox fully intended on setting things right here one step at a time.

He didn't reply and asked nothing more of her. With no desire to linger, Towhee glanced off to the side—in the direction the moose had gone—and then back to Phox, peering at him for a long beat.

"See you around," she said in the same dry, flat tone she used with everyone. She pivoted, the fact that she favored one hind leg only slightly obvious as she loped out of sight.

"See you around."

Phox watched as she fled, blinking only when she finally disappeared from his sight. As for him, he would seek out one of the many crevices and make his home there for now. He would regain his strength, his health, his life. The latter would take months if not years. Better get started, he said aloud to the empty air around him. Labored breathing would take him to where he needed to go for now.