Firefly Ravine 彡(-_-;)彡

Keeping things regarding the outcome of his precious thread vague.

It was cold.

Colder than anything he could remember having felt before. As much as he tried, he found it to be incredibly difficult to get warm again.

His stomach ached.

When had he last eaten something? Something fresh, something warm—when was that? Kubo was not a good hunter—how could he be when no one had taught him, when he’d yet to experience the thrill of attending a hunt with the adults—and thus had been forced to feed off of abandoned carrions whenever he came across them. Sometimes they were rotted, sometimes they made him vomit, but each time he was still driven by hunger to take in as much as would fit in his stomach.

Kubo missed home.

He had absolutely no idea where he was now, no clue as to how to get back. All he knew was to keep moving forward, keep moving until he found someone that did know. Perhaps then he’d find his warmth again but, for the time being, he was far from it. It was by a stroke of sheer luck that he happened across an old, abandoned den—how warm, how familiar, it was—into which he dove and curled up within, searching for the warmth his own body could provide him with.

She's beside herself lately with all of the drama and all of the patients; there's so much happening and she knows that if they fail it will be her fault, her weight to bear.  She doesn't know if she can do it.  After taking care of @Qilaq, she sets just outside of the border towards the river that feeds into their territory, trudging through the brown snowmelt as the winds whip around.  It's much colder out here than it is sheltered by the two mountains, and she wishes she would've stayed home.  

But instead of turning back she searches for somewhere she can stay away a while.  When she stumbles upon the old den she's reminded of @Zada, and it twists her heart in a new and unexpected way; when she sees the dark fur inside she almost runs.  But it's not her, it's someone else, and they're so small they could've been her own child.

What're you doing out here?

As the wind rushed by outside, he drifted off to sleep.

Darkness filled the space around him, creating a void into which he saw naught. It was cold—it was always so cold—and he curled himself even tighter yet, becoming little more than a small mound of coal mixed into the dirt. The wind shifted and he felt it creeping in through the mouth of the den, reaching out to him in an effort to slice the boy right through to his core—and then it was gone.

He could still hear how it rustled the leaves outside those walls, how it threw them this way and that, but there was something new to keep it from reaching him. Slowly, he opened his eyes to gaze out, yet what he was met with was a mass even darker than his own—and far larger. His immediate response was to flinch back, an action that was regarded with low laughter.

Why...?

Again, Kubo glanced at the other as she approached him, seemingly emerging from the shadows themselves. There was something familiar about her, something that made him relax, though he could not recognise her—especially not those eyes. They met his own and it seemed almost as if he was looking into the sun itself. “Who... who are you...?” he asked—but no name was given. There was a smile, one that he knew not how to respond to, but no words until—

“Wake up, boy.”

Kubo’s eyes snapped open and he rushed up to his feet before scurrying back. The dark woman was gone and with her the warmth had gone, too, leaving behind someone new.

Someone new.

“I... I don’t...” he struggled to make his tongue cooperate, grasping for words that wished to remain unspoken. “I’m lost.” Lost and alone, knowing not where he was or how to get back home. “Do you know where home is...?” Did she know what home was?

Maybe, she says gently in an attempt to keep him from becoming more frightened than he is.  The thoughts of Zada vanish and are replaced with Qliaq.  Will this be another stray she'll take under her wing?  Where is home to you?  Elysium was allied with a few packs, hopefully he came from one of them.  If not, she could at very least offer him shelter until she figured out where exactly home was to the little boy.

Maybe she knew—maybe she could help him.

But where was home?

The boy’s brow furrowed as he struggled to pull a name from his memory. What was it called? Had he ever been given a name? Had he ever heard anyone talking about the pack?

He hadn’t.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he answered, ears falling back as defeat crept up through the back of his mind. “There’s a river, there’s… there’s mom and Eilonwy and…” And who? Who else was there, what other names might she recognise? He didn’t know of any others, he’d never been told—and he’d never gone out long enough to ask, either. Kubo had never been a little, social butterfly. He’d secluded himself, interacting primarily with his family whilst the world around him remained unexplored, untouched, by his existence. Perhaps this was a punishment for that, for not making friends or learning about his home.

“Do you know where the river is?” he asked, now more desperate than ever. “It’s big, it’s—you can’t miss it!” That was the only thing he knew—the river. The river was grand and mighty, it stretched across what seemed like the entire world. If anything, she had to know about the river. She had to know about it, that way she could take him home.

He missed home.