Blacktail Deer Plateau Under cloud and under star

After what had happened, Mali hadn't gotten any closer to the water unless he had to.  His travels had been hampered slightly by the weather, but he'd gotten lucky with a few small snacks along the way.  He'd curled up at the base of a tree for the night but still woke with a nice dusting of snow all over him.  It was still early -- barely light -- but he'd awoken and was ready to figure out where to go from here.  Not exactly a brilliant cartographer, he wasn't sure how far he was from Elysium now.  Probably far enough to prove he wasn't being followed, but he wasn't sure where to go from here.  Somewhere, probably.

The ground sloped gently upwards, and since Mali wasn't a complete dunce, he figured maybe he'd use the extra bit of vantage point from the top to maybe figure out what direction looked appealing.  All he'd decided on was something not by the ocean because those folks were weird as heck.  He yawned, stretched, and after shaking most of the snow out of his fur, started the trek upwards.

It wasn't long before Ramsay headed out of Blackfeather Woods once more, this time with a purpose in mind. He followed the river that wound away from their marsh, keeping the high mountains at his right shoulder as he made his way across the foothills. Part of him hoped that by venturing out now and again, he might one day run across his brother; most of him knew this was unlikely, but that didn't mean his trips needed to be fruitless. Maegi had wolves at her side she could trust, even if he was unsure of them. It was high time Ramsay found some friends of his own.

He might not have bothered scaling up to the plateau, but the towpath was an easy one to follow even with his sore ribs. Worn down by the tread of many paws, from the look of it. He spent several long moments bending double so he could sniff at the trail; even months later, the faintest trace of amalgamated scents was there. Some group or other had likely used this as a base at one point, and that meant it was terrain worth investigating.

Ramsay wasn't at all expecting to find anyone else trekking up to the plateau, but he came upon Mali nonetheless. He was lower down, and stopped to observe the dappled youth for a short while before summoning what little social instinct he had and baying a quiet call for the yearling's attention.

Wait, who was that?  He looked around and then spotted the shadowy figure of the other wolf. Huh.  Not anyone he recogni--- wait what.  Blink.  Blink.  

All the monsters that had been in Mal's life had been ones that had looked normal from the outside but when you peeled back the skin, the creature underneath was absolutely disgusting.  That was why he often called them witches or something like that -- their spells were subtle, they were not the monsters of lore that he'd created.  But the wolf that had called to him (that's who it had to have been, at least) was not that.  If he was a monster, he was truly that.  There was no hiding it.  Hell, Mal had been pretty sure his eyes were totally somehow mangling the other wolf -- a trick of perspective, maybe.  But apparently not. 

Mal was rooted to the spot not out of fear, necessarily, but utter confusion.  Who?  Why.  How.  It wasn't like Mal knew better than to stare -- he was rather lacking in social graces.  But if he was a monster, then like all the others, the way to survive was to be boring, and maybe if he could take them, then he could be a jerk and make them find someone else to bug. But he wasn't sure he could take on this guy.  Way too freaky.  So, polite route maybe.  Um, hey, he replied, unable to think of what to say after that.  Great job, kid.

If he was overly bothered by Mal's outright gawping at him, Ramsay did well to hide it. By now he was quite used to this treatment. Somewhere deep inside he supposed it still hurt to be looked at with more revulsion than fascination, but he was careful never to let it colour his tone or his actions. Others tended to get more defensive when he acted offended, and anyway, he was only really offended when they took his appearance to mean he was mentally addled as well. When he perceived that in others, he tended to show it.

He wasn't getting that vibe from Mal, at least not yet, so he tipped his ears politely to the sides and replied, Hello. Quite the view from up here, hm? You live here alone? If Maegi and he didn't have their eyes set on their birthplace, then Ramsay might have considered this as a good second option. He had no designs on it, however, and his eyes suggested merely curiosity as he studied Mal's masked features.

Mal tended the other direction -- he assumed everyone he met was some kind of conniving creature out for his destruction, or at least at this point that's what it felt like.  This guy totally fit what Mal was expecting when it came to monsters, so he was gonna be extra careful.  But if you were dealing with these monsters was it good to show they were scary as heck or just be polite?  Start with the latter and revert to the former if it started going badly, maybe.

So he'd try to answer the questions, even if some part of him was wondering if this dude was solely unlike the other witches and warlocks in that he didn't feel like hiding his appearance. Um, yeah I guess.  I don't live here. I'm just uh.  Passing through.  I haven't even been up there yet. A slight tip of his nose uphill.  Wait.  Maybe he should be careful... Maybe that was the actual trap -- just up there.  Ok, Mal would be careful just in case... Maybe make the other dude go first or something.

He knew the feeling of just passing through quite well. He'd spent most of his life just drifting along with no home base, stopping wherever his feet bid him to and taking his rest in whatever shelter he could find. He wondered if Mal was like him when he was a bit younger: an eternal wanderer with no place of his own. Maybe that was why, after all this time, Ramsay still considered Blackfeather Woods to be his home. He'd never found anywhere else.

Heading out on an adventure? he queried, flicking his eyes toward the top of the plateau when prompted. The world is wide and full of interesting things to see. He hoped Mal would be able to experience it all in relative peace, as Ramsay had. He and Euron had struggled with food for a while but eventually they became proficient enough to get by, and the journey had been well worth it. Do you wish to see what this place offers? It might serve as a good base of operations for you.

Very few wolves talked to Mal like like that.  Most of the time he felt like they were talking down to him, or at the very least talking at him rather than maybe trying to meet him on common ground.  Or maybe this was even more different -- trying to help him.  In all honesty it probably was Ramsay's appearance that made Mal continue to be wary, but at least it was a polite wary.  

Yeah, was his simple reply.  How long had it been already?  He didn't know.  He'd sort of given up counting, it wasn't like his home had ever been much of a home.  Maybe if they hadn't moved, but they had and everything just deteriorated from there.  Okay, "the full of interesting things to see" wasn't exactly something he agreed with, and he snorted. After what he'd just come from, did he really want to see more "interesting" things?  Not if they were like that.  That was a big ol' warning label to stay away.  Mal didn't comment more on that because he wasn't socially suave enough to realize that probably put a giant questionmark in the other guy's mind, and Mal wouldn't know how to explain it anyway. He still just wanted to forget it, but the world wasn't gonna let him.  I don't think I get to have a base yet.  But I gotta figure out where I should go.  I think that's where to start.  Probably?  It made sense to him at least.  And it still meant wandering uphill and seeing what was there, if only so he could find himself on a nice little viewing spot where more of the land was visible.

Ramsay, if he stopped and thought about it, didn't know why he was investing his time in Mal. He didn't know at the time why he had attempted to protect Averna, either. He didn't allow himself to think about it much. In terms of benefit, there didn't seem to be much of one, but nevertheless he allowed himself to step forward, further up the hill, in the lead. Mal could have taken him from behind then, but Ramsay's confidence never faltered. He was, after all, probably a better fighter than any kid, not that he thought less of Mal for that.

Everyone gets to have a base, Ramsay said, lurching toward the top of the plateau with his strange, stunted gait. Everyone needs a safe place to return to. He wished he and Euron had spent more time finding themselves a base, rather than wandering about at the brink of starvation until desperation drove them to learn. One could argue for that lifestyle, but Ramsay wouldn't be the one to do it. Your base can always change, he added over his shoulder, the best he could with his truncated neck.

Mal's brain kept yanking him back and forth on whether to trust him.  Monster or of unfortunate appearance?  Trickster or honest?  Which combinations of those would make most sense, which story sounded like it was reality?  His sheltered and relatively solitary upbringing didn't help him much other than give him trust issues.

It was probably the fact that Ramsay hadn't done anything worth side-eyeing that probably drove Mal the most crazy.  Everyone was pretty much scum unless they were his sister, so... Now what?  Other than following along and hoping that something in the world would reveal itself.  Yeah, but...  I gotta keep moving before I have to go back.  Maybe next time.  Shrug. Or not, he wasn't sure, but the grass was always greener elsewhere and this felt near enough that Elysium members could show up to heckle him, too. This might be too close to the coast anyway.  Eugh, yeah.  It hadn't been too long in travel-time since whatever the hell happened, and they still freaked him out more than Ramsay did.  After all, he'd only been just on the other side of the mountains, so they could show up here really easily.  A nice vulture of a memory, just hovering there, waiting.

With a grunt, Ramsay clambered up to the flat ground at the top of the towpath, then glanced down at Mal with a wry expression. He could relate. His journey through the untamed wilderness with Euron was kind of like that—always moving forward, trying to outrun the past in a way. Euron had broken free of it but Ramsay was tethered to his past and it caught up to him in the end. It did so on his terms, however, and that was all he could ask for in this life.

Something wrong with the coast? he wondered, more out of curiosity than genuine interest. Never been, he clarified, in case what Mal was eager to be away from was common knowledge.

Okay.  The whole thing kind of freaked him out still, but he'd give the cliffnotes version because it was probably better that Mal spill the beans to someone even if he'd probably never see this dude again, The wolves will swarm you and try to lure you with food and promises.  But if you turn it down, they turn on each other and kill each other instead.  Which sounded quite fantastical, in all honesty, even if it was entirely true.  Like for no reason.  I was just walking along, suddenly there were like three of them, then as I walked off two of them killed each other.  Wasn't gonna stick around.  Like nobody should.  If that was how the coast was, that was not his jam.  He was pretty sure even if most wolves didn't like each other, they also didn't just suddenly fight to the death.  Maybe Elysium was just too far in the opposite direction, but Mal certainly lacked the backstory for why that was even a thing.

At least by nearing the top of the plateau here, he could find a good perspective to keep away from it all.  Sure, he'd find out that a lot of people seemed to be homicidal maniacs but at the same time, what else was he gonna do?  He couldn't go back to Elysium except to visit Brilliance.  That was not his home and definitely not a place he wanted to stay.

Well, Mal got one thing right. His story was incredibly fantastical. If Ramsay was anyone else he might have a very hard time believing what the yearling told him about the coastal wolves, but he'd been raised with a strange faith and he himself was a strange man both in body and spirit. He couldn't find any logic to the actions of those on the coast, leaving him to guess that it was some kind of ritual. Having never been to the coast, Ramsay couldn't assume anything else, or he might have concluded salt poisoning instead.

That is very unusual, mused the dark-coated dwarf with a gentle cant of his ears to the sides. Maybe they worship weird gods with weird fancies. I can't think of any reason for such an extreme change in demeanour. You were probably right to leave such folk behind. It seemed this world was just full of all shapes and sizes of oddities. Blackfeather Woods counted as that, too, no doubt. Both the old and the new, though the new was considerably less odd. Did you come from the coast originally? Where is it you seek to go from there?

Well at least his bailing sounded reasonable to this guy.  Yeah dunno.  Not going back to find out.  He'd find a different way back when he needed to see Brillo.  It'd probably end up being a harder trek, though.  Or way out of the way.  Oh well.  He'd just leave a little earlier than originally planned or something.

Nah.  I was staying uh.  Other side of the mountains somewhere.  He wasn't exactly sure where Elysium lined up at this point.  He wasn't going to worry for now.  Dunno where I'm going.  Over there, maybe?  He pointed roughly with his nose more out towards the vast unknown.  Maybe southish-southwestish, something along those lines.  Basically everything but the coast had to be better by definition, at least, so he should check it out.  Mal wasn't sure he wanted to bring up his sister, though.  If this guy was actually a monster, then maybe he could use her existence against him somehow.  Gotta be clever about these things, y'know.

Mal continued to be vague, which Ramsay could respect. Having spent much of his own youth among strangers, he valued an adolescent who knew how to control their tongue. I see, he said, tilting his hindquarters down so he could angle his head toward the mountains. There wasn't much over there. Not judging by what he'd seen when he was with Euron, anyway.

Well, said the dwarf, turning back to face the sprawling flatlands below, I best be heading back. Should you find yourself adrift in the world and in need of a place to go, there is a black forest at the edge of a creek. If you follow that river, and here he gestured vaguely down to the Whitefish coursing below, you will find it. You are always welcome. Having no inkling of what Mal privately thought of him, Ramsay thought this was a generous offer to make. Blackfeather Woods didn't extend their hands to many, but he saw promise in the skeptical teen.

Ask for Ramsay, he tacked on, tilting his ears to the sides in something that might vaguely have resembled the tipping of a cowboy's hat. With such a short neck, he had to improvise on these things. Farewell, and may your travels find you well. With just a pause to allow Mal time to speak if he wished to, Ramsay began to thread his way back down from the plateau and off in the direction of home.

Oh, uh. Ok. I'll keep it in mind. I'm Mal. And good travels too. Or something? Words! You know, those things he was good at yelling but not good at stringing into something friendly. It did leave Mal with a question, though: if he couldn't find the right place, would he have to give up and go there? A black forest didn't sound particularly welcoming by that description but it sounded like a fitting home for darker things. But maybe it was just a combination of word choice and Mal being a paranoid little punk. He'd figure it out later.

But for now he'd survived another meeting with a possible monster and that was a good start. There was a lot more for him to figure out before he made a decision. He took a seat and looked out across the lands below. Time to plan.