Blackfeather Woods i have seen the fall of babylon

after choosing to dissolve what had been formed of the vartija wintersbane's intentions are clear: leave the wilds ( again ) and head for enok tundra. it was about high time, he feels, that he connects in full with his mother's people. to inspire a pack around his tundrian heritage no longer sat right with him when he hasn't spent any time living among the true tundrians. his path is set and though he intends to curve north and leave the wilds behind him for the time being, his legs carry him south first. he knows he shouldn't but there are two things he has to do before he can set off for the place he'd only heard in lotte's stories. he thought he'd given himself the closure he needed when he visited relmyna's grave but he wants to see it once more, and maybe if he's lucky say goodbye to astara because despite the chilling quiet she'd greeted him with the last time they'd seen one another wintersbane still cares for her.

the second task was to visit lotte's grave again. both trips will set his travels back a bit but with spring upon the world he doesn't think it'll hinder him too bad. he curves south to blackfeather woods, confident that relmyna's twins hadn't left the territory, first ...and the scent of wolves — maegi and mou-screech-whatever he went by these days ( winterbane's still not clear on that ) scents startle him. they are strong and they are not alone. a unforeseen wrench thrown in his plans. if they're in the process of claiming it then he doubts his intrusion into the territory would be appreciated.

he paces back and forth, weighing his options carefully before tossing his head back and letting loose a howl.

It hasn't been long since Maegi left him in the darkness of the cavern, its reaching tunnels sprawling throughout the underhenge of Blackfeather; but he has found his way, unafraid of the dark. A few moments of bold exploration (which would've gotten him in trouble if he'd been caught) gave him final glimpses of the world outside the boundaries of his soon-to-be home; now that he was situated back in the darkness, he was listless. That was when he heard a howl. It rose in to the air, funneled down in to the depths of his confines, and brought him skulking from the depths.

The daylight remained. He was supposed to stay hidden until dusk at the earliest, but it was rare to find someone seeking audience in the wood. As Mou slunk from one patch of shadow to the next, his pale coat flashed with scattered, dim lighting which caught in the leaves. An eruption of ravens overhead heralded his emergence; he was fleet footed as he sped along, trying to find the call's origin before he was found above-ground.

That was when he noticed the storm-cloud waiting nearby, and came lurking close to investigate.

wintersbane is not kept waiting long but the pale figure that comes to greet him earns a low release of breath and a terse rise of the tundrian's chin ever-so-slightly. he wasn't sure what he thought about the pale pair that'd brought so much strife to blackfeather woods only to abandon it to clean up their messes which in the end was the heralding of it's ultimate destruction. of course, winterbane's choice to depart from the dark woods had only served to help it along but he didn't see his diversion of paths to be a betrayal. it doesn't matter, wintersbane tells himself as mou-screech comes closer. he was here for a purpose and their presence here didn't really effect him beyond blocking his access to relmyna's grave, at least this is how it starts out at any rate.

i'm only here to see relmyna's grave and maybe say goodbye to astara if she's still around. if she wants to see me he doesn't add that part vocally though. the distance between him and the shadowstalker isn't any of mou-screech's business; but he hadn't really asked and there was no reason for the scarred man to grant him access to what he sought.

The cloud barely stirs, save to boom with a low thunderous voice, and the comment makes the ghost pause. He cants his head in the direction of the temple. It is painful to think of the forest without Relmyna, which is probably why Mou prefers to imagine that her spirit is lingering - watching them in the darkness at the very least. After a short glance Mou retuns his bright eye to the waiting beast, and then nods his head as if to agree.

Come, he says. There is no warmth in his voice but there isn't much of a voice to begin with. Mou turns away and begins to lead Wintersbane through the forest along some of the cleared paths of old, and some of the new paths carved through the forest by this fresh generation. Blackfeather is changing; they are rebuilding what they can and the forest welcomes the effort. It is Maegi's will that necessitates this shift and Mou is more than willing to oblige.

When they finally reach the temple Mou stops, steps aside, and silently watches. The temple is one of the first places they each visited, but one of the last to be tended to. The reverence that Mou holds for this space makes changing it difficult; much of Relmyna's time was spent here, and as he closes his eyes he imagines feeling her there.

there's a feeling of deja vu as wintersbane follows mou-screech through the woods, to the temple, where relmyna was buried by her daughters. it reminds him of astara leading him here the last time he'd come to visit. when mou-screech steps aside, wintersbane steps forward, glacial gaze locking on the place where his dark priestess rests ( or so he assumes ). there is a different feel to this place than the last time he'd been here and for a moment the tundrian struggles to name it. he had taken note that the old paths had been cleaned but there were new paths made. once, he'd known the layout of these woods so well he could walk it in his sleep. perhaps, he thinks, he still could. the old paths, at least.

why'd you come back? he breaks his silence but he does not break eye contact with relmyna's shrine. a different, but perhaps, more important question comes to his mind then. why'd you leave in the first place? this change could've happened without relmyna's death, without the original blackfeather woods sinking into the cold, dark depths. relmyna had believed only a melonii could truly lead these woods and it appeared her words of prophecy came to be true ( despite how he protested that idea ). so, wintersbane wonders, why all the theatrics? the trouble caused? the running away? and now, when it's all said and done, was their return so sudden and sure?

The altar had a scattering of bones, none more central to the display than the pelvic bone that Relmyna's daughters were so fixated upon; he didn't notice the bones as he observed the altar this time, and was preoccupied by the soil nearby - likely where the rest of the woman was buried. It held the goliath's attention too, for a bit. But then things shifted back to Titmouse and he listened to the questions with a serene sort of glaze to his expression.

He didn't have the capability to speak in detail about everything, which was unfortunate for Wintersbane; if he wanted more information he was better off questioning Maegi. All the same, Tit wanted to say something — ease whatever disturbed the man in regards to their collective return.

Took Fire to free, he enunciated as best he could; images flashed in his mind as he remembered the flame-coated girl, and his nose was hit by the sweet scent of apples. Just a memory, nothing more. Follow M'gee afta. Danger. Hadda hide — his mouth felt dry as he spoke and when he approached the topic of Maegi leaving him, he couldn't quite form words. So he segued awkwardly to the reason they came back — When save, come home. Support M'gee. Love M'gee. He would do anything for her and if that meant establishing a claim over their old haunt, so be it.

as titmouse speaks, it is clear to wintersbane that the pale man thinks he'd done the right thing. yet all wintersbane can hear is me, myself and mine. titmouse perceives it as one way and wintersbane perceives the explanation as absolute selfishness — something that the tundrian is no stranger to, admittedly. did you even once stop to consider that freeing fire had screwed over our chances of resolving the rift you created peacefully? there was a plan. and you tore a giant hole through it. and while you and maegi fled and hid in safety the rest of us were left to constantly look over our shoulder and wonder when the wrath and might of redhawk and their allies would come down on our head.

it was in the past and there was no sense in dredging it up, wintersbane knows. they couldn't change how things had happened. there was no going back; but the past did effect how he thought of the pale pair as leaders of this place. someone had to ask the hard questions and it might as well be wintersbane who'd never been one to sugar coat his feelings about things. are you two going to run the next time there's heat? as leaders, you can't abandon your pack just because it's dangerous like last time. the people that follow you rely on you.

There was animosity between them, that much was clear now. As soon as Wintersbane began to counter his points with more elucidated counter-points of his own, Mou felt his blood run cold. It wasn't often that he was confronted with such behaviour these days but the manner in which Wintersbane took hold of his story and transformed it, shifting the blame and bringing to light an avenue of thought he truly had not considered, made Mou realize how selfish he was being — just like old times. He couldn't have seen it before because his love of Maegi clouded all his doubts, blinded him to alternative possibilities. But that didn't mean he agreed; no apology would leave his lips for sins of his past.

An edge entered his voice as found it again, a lift to his head and gleam to his eye — something dangerous. This is home. Live an' die here. Perhaps it was conviction that powered that statement but it was more like he was stating a promise - pledging a vow before this mountain of a man - and he did not intend to go back on it. Mou neva go. Too imp, imp — im-poh-dant, to M'gee. Though he struggled to get the word out he did mean it, with every fiber of his being. And if Wintersbane knew what was good for him, he'd never question Mou's loyalty again.

To ease the tension from the air the boy segued to something else — You stay? It would be good to have the mountain join them, to lend his strength to the woods again.

it was obvious from the look that enters mou's eye, the lift of his chin and the edge to the pale man's tone suggests that he didn't like what wintersbane had to say. which, to the tundrian, only served to prove him right. he'd touched a nerve. good, wintersbane can't help but think. the fact was: the words mou gave him were just that until he and maegi both went through the actions of backing them up. to wintersbane, for now, it felt like a weighty promise. whether mou liked it or not wintersbane wasn't apologetic for his doubt and skepticism. as far as the tundrian is concerned it wasn't as if those things were felt without warrant. the pale pair had already proven they had a penchant for running away when things got too hot. they had yet to prove that they had what it took to lead this pack, that they wouldn't run when the heat comes pressing down on them again because it inevitably would. if not from the redhawks then from someone else. well, no offense, but it's going to take more than words to assuage my concerns this time. as it should be. why should he and maegi ...or anyone else for that matter get a free pass just because they labeled themselves as leaders? mou could lift his chin and glint his eye at wintersbane all he wanted. a physical warning of displeasure at words that maybe hit too close to home doesn't mean that wintersbane will forget. wintersbane is not so easily intimidated.

life, however, was full of opportunities to grown and change. it was full of second chances. his own journey in life so far was proof of that. the pale pair deserved the chance to put wintersbane's doubt and skepticism about their abilities to lead wrong. the following question throws wintersbane for a loop ...and for a moment the maned tundrian just stares at mou, waiting, perhaps, for him to change his mind. after all, a skeptical follower is a lot harder to push in line than one who didn't know the truth of the past and whose trust is more easily earned. are you really sure you want me to? wintersbane asks mou honestly. was his presence there worth the extra number? was his loyalty worth the price of earning it?

I totally thought I wrote this & posted it, but I guess it was a draft. Most of this makes no sense because I wrote it at work on my phone lmfao. :P

He should not have let the words get to him, but they did. His old spark of obnoxious entitlement had ignited at some point recently — or maybe not so recently, maybe back when he'd started to remember things properly — and it took some of Mou's patience to curb the hostility that Screech felt. The boy never considered the facets of his personality as separate entities altogether, before. It made some sense to him though; his life had diverged in to a twisting series of paths and led him here to the woods, fractured, but also slowly coming back to himself again. Whole. Maybe the woods would further heal him, if he had the time to spare for it.

But even if he felt hot under the collar, the ghost could not find fault in what Wintersbane was saying, because there was truth to it. They had run in the past, and the woods had suffered because of their snap decision to do so. Things had to change if they were going to earn the right to call themselves leaders in earnest; they needed the respect of the wolves first and foremost, and it would be an uphill battle. He was thoroughly convinced that Blackfeather would be stronger for all the struggle it had been through — stronger still if the tundrian stayed, so when Wintersbane questioned him Mou let the edge of his poor attitude slip away from him, and he responded with his own honesty, as clearly as he could: Yes. Loyah to M'gee? Forest es home? Winnaspane, bee-lon here, wid us. I swear, we be betta.

wintersbane, for whatever it was worth and whatever it cost him, held fast to a rule that he'd operate in an area of transparency and candidness; and though he'd held to the belief that he didn't operate in deception the truth was: he had for much of his childhood. teaghlaigh was gone, lotte was departed from the physical realm, malliadh was dead to him ...there was no one left to protect. that part of his life had been over a long time ago and living in that constant deception has forged a desire to be honest into his adulthood. if he didn't like something, if he felt a certain way about something: he was going to say so.

that didn't mean wintersbane wasn't aware that while honesty may be the best policy that it often times came at a price and that he had to be willing to live with the price it demanded. mou's words come as some surprise to wintersbane but he makes quick work of keeping the physical evidence of his taken aback off his face. whether he succeeds or not is unknown. wintersbane isn't a beast that often gives into the belief of fate but the fact that he keeps finding himself here: irrevocably tied in with the wolves of blackfeather woods is beginning to stop feeling like a happy coincidence.

then i will stay. comes his reply; and then soft, whispering laughter distorted, as if he hears it from a distance away. mephala, he thinks, welcoming him home once more.