The Sentinels Somewhere only we know

It had begun with one of Wraen's memories from her very early life at Donnelaith. She had not been looking for it particularly, but it had revisited her in dreams and had felt so strong, so real and near, that it dwelled in her mind for the next few days.

It had featured a barren land with green sprouting up here and there. Trees so big, majestic and tall that it was easy to believe their crowns touched the heaven. And a den hidden under an uprooted fallen tree. Her playing with Terance and Sarah under Osprey's watchful gaze. 

She reasoned that perhaps this rather harmless memory was affecting her so much, because she saw that Maia was still mourning the loss of their parents. And that she was subconsciously seeking for a way to cheer her up, to aid her in making peace with the fate. Inspired by this, she had left the Firebirds and sought out the place that had been her first home.

Wraen could not recall, whether she had been here during her stay at Moonspear, but this did not make the burnt-down forest any easier to behold. Even though years had passed since the tragedy had happened and the land was recovering, the scars were painful reminders of, what had once been.

She made her way carefully through the forest, looking for any signs of the place, where her parents had settled down and begun to raise the family.

@Brisbane

thank you for starting this! ♥

it was easy to imagine, even in the charred ruins, that this territory had once been majestic. the trucks of the trees are wide and even on the upturned trunks whose massive root systems are left exposed to the elements when they'd become unstable after the fire'd wreaked it's havoc looked sturdy and strong. it's warmer today than it's been and after his visit to the hot springs brisbane'd meandered coastward to bathe in the seawaters. they were frigid and rough, and threatened to uproot him and toss him about like a ragdoll. he hadn't stayed in them long enough for that. his retreat from the frothy waters was more of a jetsam than it was a graceful swim and he spends his walk through the charred remains of the sentinels chasing the sun in an effort to dry off. it teases him by drifting in and out of cloud cover but brisbane's nothing if not persistent.

for a moment, he studies a fallen sentinel turning it's exposed root system with a pause, ears cupping forth into alertness at the sound of approaching footfalls. fiery, twin sun gaze focuses on the shape melting out of the blackened woodland around him, letting out a low chuff to announce his presence.

Wraen had not expected to meet anyone here and was lost in thoughts, when she came across the agouti clad stranger, who greeted her. She jumped and for a moment stared at him with wide, fear-stricken eyes, but then regained her composure and smiled at him, albeit a little shyly. 

"Good day," she spoke, deciding that beginning the conversation and finding more about the guy was the best way to handle the situation at present moment. "I did not disturb you or anything?"

his chuff appears to have startled her, if her recoil was anything to go by. probably, he should've felt bad about it but that'd sort've been the whole point of the chuff: so he didn't startle her worse by suddenly being in her proximity when she wandered that close. he fully rounds the large uprooted tree, stopping so he stood with his shoulder at the end of the tangle of burnt roots that protrude from the uprooted sentinel's base. upon closer inspection the colors of her pelage become clearer to him: an agouti mixture that is lighter than his own, though largely his coloration stems from the coyote blood coursing through his veins.

g'day, he returns the greeting, studying her with a quick sweep of his gaze. nah, he replies to her question with an errant rise and fall of his shoulders. just chasin' the sun to dry off. he glimpses skyward for a moment with a dismal frown. the sun's taken shelter behind a large, puffy cloud. you looked pretty lost in thought there. he observes aloud as his gaze drifts back down to her where it settles.

"Did you go for a swim? Isn't it too cold for that?" Wraen studying him for a moment and then looking up at the sky, where the sun was shining. It was a lot warmer than it had been two weeks ago, but still not enough to consider going in the water. It must be freezing there.

"Not really lost, no," she shook her head. "Just revisiting an old place. I once lived here," she explained. "What about you - do you live here now or happened to come here by chance?"

brisbane considers her question for a few moments, ears cupping forth before swiveling to flutter back to rest against the crown of his skull in thought. more of a dip than a swim. the surf was too rough to go too far, he explains. and yeah, it was cold. and though he is all about presenting himself as a badass his reasons for taking a dip in the sea weren't to impress or come off as a badass. he's lived in the bay his whole life and the frequent baths in the sea are so that the smell of saltwater lingers on his pelage. it serves as to remind him of where he came from.

he casts another look about as she mentions that she'd once lived here. there's no way for brisbane to tell how long ago the fire came through here and destroyed this place but he suspects it was a while ago. not so long as to give it a chance to rebuild itself but long enough that the ash is gone and the smell of burnt wood is only present in the blackened wood of the trees. not sure much can live here as it is; he drawls in contemplation. i'm just passin' through. the coywolf admits and in regards to this territory specifically: it's the truth. his intentions of coming to the teekon wilds, however; were not admittedly as pure as 'passing through' but he sees no reason to bring it up and certainly not to a stranger.

"Maybe," Wraen shrugged, looking around. "Though in time, I believe, that this place will be someone's home again one day," she added. It must have been a nice place with the tall trees, the oceanside nearby and the gentle sound of the waves in the background. She could imagine, why her parents had liked it here, and part of her regretted for not staying here longer, though at that time this had in no way been dependant on her.

"Going anywhere in particular?" she asked out of courtesy. Most travellers were either seeking a person or adventures. Or both.

everything rebuilds in time. brisbane muses in agreement. it's the one reassuring thing about life: that it will rebuild itself, time after time, regardless of how damaged it was left. green would sprout from the ashes left here, eventually. it might be in their lifetime and it may not — it depended on the resilience of what was left, he supposes. not really. brisbane follows his internal compass, letting it lead him where it may. i'm a stranger to these lands, i'm afraid, he admits with a cheeky grin. i don't know what's what, yet. i figure i'll learn as i go, though ...i am keepin' an eye open and an ear to the ground for a fella called witchdoctor. looks just like me but older n' minus these ugly bastards. he swings his head so his left side is facing her so she can see the raised, jagged and uneven pink flesh of wounds long healed that marrs his muzzle and lips; despite his term of the word 'bastards' he doesn't speak of them with anything that suggests he's remotely ashamed of them ( because he's not ).

Word "witchdoctor" caught Wraen's interest, because it was not something you heard every day from random people. At the sight of his scars she took and an inadvertent step back - she was impressed - yes - but at the same time it made her wonder, how many had attempted to go for this guy's throat and how many were still walking around, alive and breathing.

"Never heard of that guy in this area. Is he as creepy as his name sounds?" she asked, her light-heartedness a bit strained. "What happened to you - fell in a lion pit?" she shot another one this time pointing out to the scars.

brisbane watches as she takes a step back as he shows her his scars and swings his head back around so they're obscured from her view. they don't make him feel self-conscious — they are trophies, after all — but they can be distracting for some and he prefers that they look at him and not his scars while holding conversations. ruined mouth turns up at the corners and he barks out a low laugh. probably. from what little i remember my dad's a bit out there, he admits freely. my siblings and i were small when he left though. and brisbane's memories of him are limited because of it. mostly, his memories are composed of what little his mother chose to speak of witchdoctor. probably woulda been cooler if i had, he plays along with a careless grin. my birth pack was big on challenging for ranks. believe it or not i won. he says this casually, as if it's no big deal — because to him, it's really not — but he watches her for her reaction.

"Oh, I believe you," Wraen nodded, feeling glad that in her experience with being a pack wolf, challenging ranks had never come into question. She would have been beaten and been lower than a toerag, if she had even attempted. No. Life was better without threats and adrenaline rushes.

"My name is Wraen, by the way," she introduced herself, thinking that, if they had come this far in the conversation, she might as well find out, who she was talking to. "I reside not too far from here with a pack, but I was born here," she added. "What is your name?"

brisbane finds the idea of being able to challenge for ranks exciting but then again, it's the nature of the pack he'd been raised into. he doesn't know any different. he struggles to imagine a pack that didn't allow that sort of transition through ranks. he supposes that they probably existed — surely not everyone enjoyed the aspect of wondering if their rank was the next to be called into challenge. brisbane. he replies when she asks for his name. he takes the information she offers: that she was born here in these woods — before it got to be this state he's sure — and that she resides with another pack not too far from here. he isn't sure what he's meant to do with the information, vague though it is.

what's your pack like? he asks figuring it's probably his turn to ask her something. his curiosity is only because he's not one to rush a decision and figures it wouldn't hurt to try to siphon what information he could about the packs in these wilds. he knows that eventually he'll have to make some kind of decision but he's in no real rush: he might be a bit underweight but far from malnourished.

"Nice people, we are family oriented, most of us are related on some degree," Wraen replied and did not have anything else to add, to recommend this pack to the stranger. Her experience in the past had taught her that neither the outlook, nor the beliefs, nor, how cool the pack seemed, people were the ones, who mattered the most. And she had not felt at home with Moonspear, she had lost the sense of belonging at Sunspire and after a long time she had regained that feeling with Firebirds. But at the same time she was guarded in her future prospects, knowing that relationships could change and that some day she would have to move on again.

"Have you been travelling for a long time now?" she asked then.

nice people. family oriented complete with the little tidbit of 'most of us are related' at the end. it didn't sound like his kind of deal. it wasn't that he had an aversion to nice people or a family oriented pack; on the contrary sometimes that could be really appealing. at times, though it could also be a turn off, especially with the consideration of if them all being related to some degree meant that only blood was allowed, or there was a general bias towards blood. witchdoctor was living proof that blood couldn't always be trusted and that the blood of the pack is thicker than the water of the womb. regardless, brisbane gives a small nod of 'thanks' even knowing that he wouldn't be pursuing it closer.

a couple months, maybe. i kinda lost track after a while. been doin' alright for myself though.

The next logical question in the usual chain would be "why did you leave?", but something about Brisbane told Wraen that he was not the one to satisfy other people's curiousity. Especically if the reason was deeply personal or tied with unpleasant memories. 

"I travelled with my sister for a while before settling down," she shared. "Except winter was not kind on us for long and we joined the group, when we hit the lowest point," there was no regret in her voice, when she said this. The comfort and safety of home had not outlived it's pleasantness. "There are quite a lot of packs located along the coast and two valleys away," she told. 

"They are quite different from one to another. There is a pack, which has a very dark and mysterious religion, there are a pack of warrior wolves, who call themselves Drageda," to name a few. "If a new home is your intention - you will have a vast choice."

wraen mentions a sister that she travelled with for a bit and brisbane regards their choice to join the group with practicality. winter had a tendency to be unkind, he'd agree, but luckily for him he'd begun travelling at the tail end of winter with spring right around the corner. the herds were returning and the smaller prey animals were more mobile than they'd been during the harshest months. getting by on small prey wasn't ideal but it was all he had and if he'd learned anything from this journey it was that when it came to food he could hunt beggars could not afford to be choosers. i'll poke around a bit, check 'em out. thanks for the advice, though. he knows what he wants and subjugating himself to serve beneath leadership isn't exactly ideal regardless of how temporary he intends for it to be. even if he didn't have high ambitions, going from beta of blackshark bay to a lowly subordinate would be a hard transition regardless; a fact that brisbane knew that at the beginning of his journey. in the end, his will to test himself won out the ease of just taking over blackshark bay.

Wraen amused herself sometimes by observing people she did not know and trying to guess as much about their personality and biography as possible. During the course of the conversation one part of her mind was dedicated to deciphering Brisbane out, though by far he was the most difficult one. If her dear friend Epic was an open book with big letters and very detailed, colourful illustrations, then this fellow was the kind of leather-bound, ancient looking edition with heavy chains wrapped around it and with a coded print in foreign language inside. 

He was young in stature, but the hauntingly beautiful amber eyes spoke of wisdom and experience beyond years. The scars, which marred Brisbane's otherwise handsome looks, boasted with a gruesome history that Wraen was pretty sure she did not want to find out. First impressions - a mystery man that made her feel a bit wary, even though he had been quite civil towards her so far. "Actually I came here looking for the place, where I spent first months of my life," she explained. "My parents passed few months ago and my sister has taken it very hard. I thought that coming here and finding the exact place, where our family began, would do her some good. Do you have experience with mourning and how to deal with it?"

brisbane listens as she imparts to him the reason she was travelling through what was left of the sentinels again but this time adds more to it. she confides in him that she recently lost both her parents and that her sister had taken it very hard. the information, brisbane feels, seems intimate; like a sacrosanct confession uttered at a holy altar meant for a god but was accosted and heard instead by the devil. she shares it willingly enough, though, and he contemplates her words — her belief that bringing her grieving sister to this ruined place where their family had begun might help her move on — a bit awkwardly. but brisbane understands wraen's desire to want to help her sister; he understands that instinct intimately. how many times had he stood between karratha, warwick and due consequences because it was his job to protect them? ( granted these situations are vastly different but the point is, he gets it ).

luckily i can't say that i have, but brisbane knows that luck wouldn't last forever. the witchdoctor walked out on us when we were young but there was no love lost there. brisbane regards the man that sired him and his littermates with as much disregard as the witchdoctor'd had for them. i'm not sure i'm the best person to be givin' advice but you know your sister better than anyone. if you think bringin' her here will help her heal then you should do it.

"You are right, I guess," Wraen replied. "Someone else's experience can never be the same as yours. Will have to find out myself then," she sighed and fell silent, casting her gaze around the wreckage and wondering, how on Earth was she going to find that whelping den, when all she had was a dim memory of it. The place her had laid in ruins for years, was there any point to search, hoping that by some lucky occasion her favourite toy had survived the fire and was lying there - ragged and broken - for her to retrieve it.

So, Brisbane came from a broken family, but, since he was able to speak so nonchalantly about it, she did not feel any pity for him. The absentee father had probably had no influence on his childhood or later life. He seemed happy enough and not like a person, who was regretting anything. "Mom used to say that, where children happen, there has been a great love and affection beforehand," she said thoughtfully. "And yet so many split up and part, and end up estranged and hating each other or indifferent. I have never really understood - how can you love someone and one day you don't."

brisbane lets the silence linger between them but with the change of subject and the situation of 'family' in the née fearghal, now blackshark line. the coywolf listens as wraen speaks of her mother's belief that great love and affection has to happen before children. it was an extremely idealistic view of procreation and one that, admittedly, brisbane doesn't share. that wasn't to say he had intentions of going out and siring a bunch of kids to different women — the thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth because it'd make him no different than the witchdoctor — but he knows that fantastical belief isn't true. he's a living, breathing example of it, but he isn't sure he wants to burst her bubble ( or her mother's bubble ) and so the un-ruined corner of his mouth twists.

brisbane know he doesn't have to say anything but he feels obligated to interject all the same, i can't speak for anyone else but the witchdoctor never loved my mother and i sincerely doubt we're the first litter he's ever sired and then left. in brisbane's personal opinion, the witchdoctor was far too skilled at it for them to be the first — lo and behold, he had no idea how true his words actually were. i hate to be the cynic here but i doubt my mum's the first doe-eyed woman to be seduced by a selfish and cruel man. if anything, it inspires brisbane to be better, to prove that he is the witchdoctor's progeny in looks ( and ambition ) only and that if he was ever to have children he wouldn't abandon them or their mother. the apple didn't always have to fall close to the tree.

Wraen may be considered naive and idealistic, but she had had her parents marriage as a role model of, how would she want things to go, if she ever settled down with someone. Mutual trust, affection and most likely friends-first. And yet... even with all of this, things could go wrong. Think about Terance and Seabreeze - hadn't they had it all in the beginning? And hadn't it all gone foul and vanished in thin air at the end?

Brisbane's answer did not explain really, why it happened. Rather told that there could be relationships that... were different. For a moment there she  thought about his doe-eyed mother and the cruel and selfish father. She imagined that just maybe, for a brief time there that said mother had seen more in the villain of the story. Or thought she had been seeing, refusing to meet the reality. Yeah... that was one way of going wrong and the worst thing was that no one was protected from it. 

"Forgive me for asking a very personal question, but..." Wraen paused, realizing that the inquiry on "Did it ever bother you that your father was such a person?" was downright stupid. Because Brisbane had already told, what he thought of his father. "Never mind... apparently, the happily-ever-afters are far fewer in the real life than they are in the stories," she concluded.

brisbane's gaze shifts to her as she begins to ask a question and then appears to change her mind as she cuts herself off halfway through. it leaves a sense of anticipation for a question that he knows will never come now as she amends herself, her conclusion leaving the blackshark with the impression of bitterness. perhaps she wasn't made to feel bitter about the truth of it but regardless, there was a slight swell of guilt left to fester in his chest as he wonders if he's burst her illusion of love in the world. it struck him as a bit naive to think that every couple in the world was full of adoring love and devotion just because it's what her parents had shared ...but they'd obviously grown up in starkly different environments and thus her experiences were not the same as his own and vice versa.

well, that's the thing about stories, isn't it? they're just stories. made to teach cubs not to wander out of their dens at night, to teach life lessons, to inspire hope. brisbane breaks his silence. i don't think it's foolish to want to strive for that happily-ever-after. it wasn't anything that brisbane personally strove for himself but to each their own.

To Wraen stories were much more than just stories. The kind Brisbane had described was a small shelf in that big library she had collected over her lifetime. Not all stories were about morals or rules, there were plenty of those that just happened and you could bend, whichever way you wanted, a plausible point of it all could not be found. The magic lied in the interpretation of it. Her imagination was strong and vivid and lot of experiences in life that she had not experienced herself, she could visualize to the minute detail, feel them acutely and thus derive empathy for all, who had to go through trials and tribulatios in life.

But she had lived long enough to know that arguing was pointless and she accepted his view with a nod. "I always wondered, what happened after that happily-ever after part in the children tales. That's kind of very superficial description of life in general," she mused. "Say, the princess found out after wedding that the prince charming was a total jerk. Or... that the frog-prince had deserved to be turned into frog in the first place. Or... so many other little details. I think life in it's details, in it's ups and downs is so much more interesting to live in."

Wraen spoke with the fellow for a little longer and the bid a farewell.