Fox's Glade hi welcome to dennys

The herbalist had arrived early, rather early, and rather eager to get a soothing harvest in for the coming weeks. Mud from the realm’s last thaw still smatters her ankles, her elbows, regardless of how high she stept. The further north one travels, the more spartan the green; but Rhaesuial had been an exception, and this ‘north’ was her south, and so Aure is practically warmed. It was a silvery, bleary morning — in a heady, unassuming manner that turned the fronds even fonder and refigured the harsh contrast of the cottonwoods to dribbling ink.

Fauna sussed through the growths of wild garlic she’d been looking for, and the morning stars yawned themselves to sleep for another daylight slumber. Aurëwen is here in the Below and Above therein; how long had it been since she’d felt that tug at her earthbound soul? She prays that Vercingetorix still looks into the same sky as she does, sees the same stars, sun, and moon. She hopes that, regardless of their wonts, their children could take an appreciation of the heavens as she does — well, once did.

Would that she weren’t so in love, so loving of mothering, so feeling of everything so thoroughly, she might like to drift and depart untethered; or, that may have been what she wanted, once upon a time. ... But she dotes on her little sun-and-stars and knows nothing but faith for her night-of-life; sees nothing but grace for those who’ve entered her life and remained, in one way or another.

Regardless of faults and flaws, these past few months have made her feel ever-changing — an endless metamorphosis, even though Bounkola lingers in the lull of this shadowy, soft morning. Eventually, she’ll set about on her harvest as planned.

Eventually.

@Dennan  l e g g o

@Aurëwenn
The Huntsman let his black claws pierce through the dirt under him, pressing into the world to allow him a reminder he was still there. His chest ached, throat dry and scratchy with misuse. Had he stopped praying last night, his body might have felt more shapely for his had-been journey ahead, but he felt the urge and he aimed to satisfy it.

Dennan, if that be his name, let out a huff and a puff, muscles burning. When was the last time he stopped walking? His mind burnt with vision, the sun above him doing nothing to soothe him. Every step he took pressed him on to some place he did not know. In a couple patches of the land, he smelled wolves. In others, the sting of the sea. It had been a very long time since he had such smells grace his nose, for his pilgrimage had led him through the quietest of places.

As the most familiar of scents reached his nose, The Reaper froze, tea eyes wide with surprise. He turned his head, looking out into the territory as he felt his heart leap in his chest. His lips pulled back in a twisting grin, eyelids falling. "Dear petal of mine..." And from there, he was following his nose.

‘Eventually’ had come, in one way or another, and so Aurëwen had begun to press through the wood in a manner more befitting of a hind — the manner of being that Athansius had made her smart at. But was it, in fact, wrong? Here she was, head on an endless, unassuming low-and-rise; stepping almost timidly in every way. So, was that assessment as faulty as she claimed?

The encounter with Rakk had been long forgotten — the amateur hunt and the end she’d brought to him had been drowned beneath the fond veils of pregnancy and now children.

...But there was an ebb, an old, unwelcome ebb; an ebb from before anything Teekon that made Aure look up, fracturing and stiffened, with eyes that sought something within the gloom. And though she could scent fauna and see nothing amiss, she halted, and stilled as Death does.

There was something amiss she couldn’t place — didn’t want to place.

He slipped up the hill with the cunning of a fox, a growl rumbling in throat as he felt his chest beat with excitement. When he reached the top, he had to let out a satisfied sigh. His journey had not been in vain.

The Huntsman stepped down to meet his thin, white fawn. "Dove," he spoke, voice low and haunty, "it has been a very long time..." His gaze trailed to the sky, dreamy and reminiscent. "I remember the sound of water... Do you?"

After another beat passed, she’d thought of easing up, of returning to her forage. Her chin had begun to dip — and then Aure heard him, as incomparably-insidious as he’d ever been or would be. Put up against him, Rakk had been a figment of her imagination.

Every tendon was taut to the point of trembling, and it was all she could do to lance her starlit gaze into those bleeding embers of her past. Red — those forsaken eyes were red and terrible and red. Where had her breath gone? Where was her brother? Her children? Their father, her beloved? Her heart was in her ears—

All Aure could do was stare, half-blind, as rage threatened to bay in her blood. Scarred lips parted to say something; nothing came. Nothing, except some oddity of a noise between her throat and lungs that sounded like a whine, a snarl, something paltry to ward him away.

Her growl did nothing to discourage him. The Priest padded in a circle around her, expression turned patient and watchful. Oh, how she had grown. Her scars did nothing to hide her beauty—the daughter of Rhaesuial nothing if not magnificently...disappointing. She had managed to find herself all the way out here—with savages.

The Huntsmanheard himself scoff. It was no matter. He wasn't here to judge her vain, desperate escape from the likes of he... The wolf watched her tremble, a dull satisfaction echoing within his belly. He could finally complete the task he was given long ago...

And with that thought, he lept. His maw opened wide as he crashed his body into hers, snapping his teeth to gain access to anything. Her ears, her muzzle, her flank...or, her neck, if the gods graced him on this blessed day.

So entranced for the worse was Aurëwen that by the time she heaved her weight into her hocks, she reared to meet his cavernous maw too late: the Doom was upon her once more in all of his slavering, sickening silver. There was a fluttery, frantic, dove’s hope in her breast as his fangs only scraped her shoulder; but an off-kilter terror when they razed up her cheek—

—and, with a malicious shudder, lanced through the jelly of her eye.

With a shriek that curdled her own marrow, Aurëwen faltered, the heave of the Huntsman still crowding her. As the blood began to swell, she staggered from beneath him, the earth’s grime on her paws making her list all over herself. Away away away, her retreat unsteady, dark red taking to her fur the way ink does to water paint.

In this moment she wanted to think of how ludricous she really was — half a league from Diaspora, with no company to keep except this specter from her past. Instead, a myriad of how could she ever use this anguish to retaliate? was surging through Aure’s frenetic mind. 

With a sweep of her head, snout fit to snarl, she studied the Doom with her remaining argent eye, and all the while fought to keep her muddied footing; fought to keep herself from trembling so entirely. She would die here if she couldn’t ward him off.

His snarl widened as he felt blood dance across his tongue, slamming her into the ground. A growl rippled in his throat as he saw her scramble out from underneath him, snapping for her. He snorted as he watched her make for pitiful escape, running his tongue along the tops if his gums.

"I will make it better, my dove." He called to her, trotting up to the rocks she scrambled over. His gaze turned chilly as she glanced back at him with a snarl, "I promise." His muscled body lunged for her trail, sprinting and seamlessly making for her. His lips pulled back to give his bloodied teeth air, ready to quench the thirst he had been set out to cease. 

As he began to reach her, in his mind, he echoed. Sinister. One down, one to go.

Tagging for reference <3

Easthollow needs to know; he won’t disappear without letting the pack that took him and his sister in without word, Evergreen’s never been that type of man. So he leaves the makeshift group in the capable hands of @Sindri for the time-being, knowing that the medic will dote over each and every one of them in his place.

The bear takes his time traversing over the mountains, arriving at the Emberwood to avoid cutting too close to Diaspora. He cuts southwest from there, using his experience of scouting these lands during his earlier months in the Wilds well. Coming back here feels… surreal to say the least. Round ears stand alert atop the bearish wolf’s head, his breathing evening out as he slows to a halt along the edges of Fox’s Glade.

It’s the gut wrenching scream that gets him thundering through the familiar terrain without hesitation. Mud kicks up from his massive paws as he tears through the undergrowth in wild abandon. ‘Not again, not again, not again.’ The last he came here, he witnessed the limp, twisted form of Thistle underneath a beast. Too late, unable to save, her soul long gone. How painful it must have been, and how betrayed she must have felt.

“Evergreen!” The scream of his name is the last time he ever heard her voice.

The scene barely registers within the great bear’s mind. All he knows is that there is a man, lashing out towards a woman curled on the ground—her face bleeding in a way that his had under the shadow’s cruel teeth. Evergreen exhales a breath; his entire approach noisy, so there is no doubt the huntsman knew of his presence.

Alas, Evergreen is here to give the silver wolf a run for his money.

He charges forth, attempting to slam the bulk of his weight into the attacker without mercy. Jaws part, and fangs reach for the tops of the beast’s scruff. Fury ripples through the bear in a way he’s only experienced once before in his life.

‘I’ll tear you asunder.’

He felt a dull sense of glee when she continued to stumble, red eyes glaring. Mud kicked up against his legs, under his paws, dirtying his white coat. He was upon her, so close...

The shadow that came from the corner of his vision surprised him, a shockwave of alarm prickling at his hackles as his fur rose. The Huntsman lunged to the side in his sprint, releasing a shrill cry when the body slammed into him. Alarms blared in his head, stress and shock written in his eyes as he whipped around to what he thought may even be a bear. 

The white ghost ripped his teeth toward the great shape, his snarls tearing through the air like seratted daggers. With most his mind torn onto his attacker, he lost sight of Aurëwen, shouting out a curse of anger.

this post is sponsered by samwise gamgee

Aure didn’t register how many beats her heart tripped over and skipped, only that throughout it all her desecrator arrived for her like Death’s pale shadow. Then her pulse flickered — ‘Not today’ — and a brown behemoth slammed fang-first into the Huntsman, promptly casting him aside. For all she knew, it might’ve been a collision of two mountains.

But it was all she needed.

Claw, crag, claw, crag, claw, crag; she strained over the lichen and stone of the rise, ears sculpted into her ruff at the symphony of bedlam behind her. Whoever had brought this new assault may as well wrest Dennan away before commencing a new hunt of his own. In her frantic state, it seemed damn well reason enough.

Her limbs wobbled so much so out of dread and fright that they threatened to give way with each step. Drago. Isi. The silver had thought that this southern realm would’ve been peaceable for them, no matter for her. Vonn. Verx. Where were the two males most prominent in her life? Where had they gone?

Her ivory talons sank deep into loam, and she felt the bite of stone at her pads. What more can I do? When Aurëwen hoisted herself up and forward, it was with an anguished sob, wherein she tasted blood — and salt. What more can I give? She coughed, she sputtered, she snarled through it; but there was the treeline!— Please— Whoever she pleaded to, she didn’t know—

Teeth snap, cutting through the thick of his mane, and enough to clip the edge of sensitive skin on his shoulder. It does not deter Evergreen enough to continue bulldozing his weight; bruising sure to consume his chest due to the booming impact of the two fierce canines.

His own jaws snap in warning, attempting to grasp the side of the attacker’s neck and force the would-be killer to the ground himself; ‘bury him,’ Evergreen’s mind urges. A snarl vibrates low in his chest, ears folding back and tail rising dominant.

When he was finally shoved onto his back, The Huntsman looked up at the beast towering over him. A giant wolf. The pale ghost wrinkled his nose in a snarl and fell quiet, pausing a beat.

As soon as he had made up his mind, he scrambled out from under the bear-wolf, slipping in the mud before he climbed up a soggy hill. Dennan stopped to look back at Aure, rage still filling his features. 

A promise, he gave, before the Huntsman disappeared back into the shadows from whence he came.

Slipping through the mud, eventually Evergreen loses his target. The man flees, and the bear is half-tempted to charge after—but alas, there is someone else that now holds his attention. Following the gaze of the attacker, his good eye spots the woman he tried to save.

Jaws stay agape, the sore bear makes certain he keeps his bulk between her and the escaping assassin. He approaches hesitantly, worn from the brief scuffle and not wanting to startle her further.

“Miss?” He halts, a distance away from the area she climbed. “It’s safe now…”

Valette was not often out for patrol but this commotion she could hear from over their border. She was not much for conflict especially since she was a mother of four pups. The female, however, scented one of her own, Evergreen, and had to follow the scent. When she arrived the commotion seemed to be resolved. Evergreen was there, big as a bear and protective of a white female. She didn't look very good.

"Evergeen, are you alright?," she asked. "What happened here," she asked and looked worried at the female that she stood across from. "Miss? Are you alright?," she asked as she carefully approached the white lady.

Terror, everywhere — and then nowhere. Instead of that seething voice behind her, this one was calm, but still beckoned for her attention. Exhaustion made her hush, and the fatigue that she felt eased her quiversome figure. Safe. Was it really?  Crescented on her flank, Aurëwen numbly assessed the male before her; and curled in on herself tighter, ruff disheveled.

As with Dennan, no words came when she parted trembling lips — not at first, anyways. “You,” she bit out, clutching at the rock beneath her as if trying to meld herself to it, “who?” Slurring past the salt and the blood, past the vertigo, the faintness that crept up within her, “Who are you?”

How can I be sure you won’t hunt me, too? Who was he? Why? She stumbled, when the more reasoning part of her told her that she should be thanking him. “You,” Aure stuttered, and then she was turning — but then another great wolf arrived, all while she was fending off the lingering darkness at the edges of her worn out mind. Drago. Isi. Verx. Vonn.

Had she not been so harried, she might have recognized these hinters as those near— “Easthollow-w. Knows me, Gr-Greyback knowsme,” tripping over the blood on her tongue, slurring, “M-my eye, can’tsee, healneed, healer, I am healer, n-never treatedeye, can’t s-see,” wobbling when she tried to rise, and instead pressed herself back down again. Drago. Isi. “Ch-children, my-mychildrens—“ 

Fear consumes even the strongest of wolves, and before him, he cannot blame the injured wolf for distrusting his intentions. Evergreen keeps steady, knowing that panicking in this situation would make it worse for both of them. His round ears twitch at the sound of her voice, finally breaking the stretched silence between them.

“Evergreen,” he introduces, quietly. Not a threat. Just a man on the road, really. Rising Sun Valley continues to prove itself unsafe, and he knows it’s wrong to leave it just because the dangers that lurk in the shadows—especially when Easthollow might need the protection—but he has a group now that relies on him just as Easthollow relies on Valette and Greyback.

He glances over his shoulder, feeling the approach of his Matriarch. His head dips in a respectful nod; his lips part to answer Valette when the injured Diasporan speaks. His heart thuds strong, the rhythm thundering akin to a drum.

“We’ll take you to safety,” he promises, “this is Valette, one of Easthollow’s leaders.” The bear takes a step forward, knowing full well the terror of losing himself to blood and vision loss. “Miss Valette, a man attacked her. Do we have a healer?” Last he knew, Easthollow was without one, and with Sindri over the mountain range… their options are limited. She needs help, fast.

Evergreen takes another step towards her, begging silently that she trusted him enough to not flee further. “Miss,” he pauses, “What’s your name? Your pack?” The metallic smell of blood is overpowering… Perhaps they ought to call Greyback since she knows him.

Valette watched the female distrust them. She could imagine that they looked ominous. Valette tried to keep a friendly disposition to the female. "Yes, I'm Valette. Greyback's mate," she confirmed. Then Evergreen talked to her and she slowly shook her head. "No, we don't really have a healer. Not for a long time. I know how to patch up minor children injuries but not a big amount of knowledge. Just motherly things," she admitted.

Valette glanced at the female who was crying out about her eye and her children. "Miss, you can take refuge in Easthollow. We can try and patch you up," Valette offered. Maybe she could send a runner to the Creek to see if they had a healer. Or maybe some of the newcomers could do some healing, Indra, Laurel or Marten. They would make it work. "Can you get up? We will take you to Easthollow,"

Her breath fluttered in her breast, yet she fought to steady her shock with uneven, shivery inhales; tried to listen to the two before her. Amidst their words, Aure had found she had options to consider: an offer of Easthollow, where she would certainly be seen to, but the probability of recovery was rickety at best.

Or ... she could return to Diaspora, be near her children, be tended to Mahler — who she prayed had some skill in this sort of mar — all at the cost of a few more hours of enduring this harrowing agony agony agony. Could she pay up to that price, though?

Upon the left swath of ivory cheekbone, blood had become glacial and caked, and came now as an oozing deluge. She still felt the semblance of her eye in its bruised socket, even as cuts clotted in the places where the Doom had shorn. Looking back at Valette and Evergreen through the remaining right star, she’d since known her answer — but the realization of it came in the form of quivering words: 

”No, no, no, I... I will return to Diaspora,” once-more damaged brow pulled deep and down, despondent, ”My midwife is there, I... I would not want to lead that damn dihanie into your claim. He...” After some stuttering beats, she fell quiet and breathless. ”... I am Aure.” The silver shook out disheveled hackles, and promptly began to gather her wobbly paws beneath her, as if about to rise. (Well, try to.)

aggh hope my writing makes sense skskskks

Unfortunately, it is as the bear expected; Easthollow is without healers now that Sindri is with him over the mountain's range. A low hum vibrates in his throat. Certainly, if there aren't any other options, then a basic patch job might help, along with rest behind protected borders for the meantime while they figure out what to do.

Valette is kind to offer this to her, and yet, the injured wolf begins with rejecting the idea. The bear swerves his ears towards her, curious, yet not offended. Diaspora is a name he knows, and his face lights with recognition.

Diaspora, the bear whispers under his breath, and glances towards the Matriarch. I know where it is. I met a wolf from there... Takiyok, as he says the Diasporian's name, he turns back to... Aurë. A pretty name, unfamiliar in the way Takiyok is. Aurë, I'll take you there, but first, we should stop the bleeding.

Immediately, Evergreen moves forward and offers the injured wolf a support to lean on. So she is able to get to her feet, and descend from the rocky area she perched on. It'll be okay.

Valette heard about the name but wasn't sure about its location. She turned to Evergreen who knew where it was. Valette was not sure if the female should travel. But she could understand the motive of the mother to return to her children. Valette nodded. "Then we will try to patch you up enough that you can travel back home to your pack,' she spoke.

Valette turned on her heels and called something about moss. She would grab some moss for the female to help stop the bleeding. She knew that from tending to her pups when they had cuts. She returned briefly with her mouthful of it. Moss was everywhere around their territory. She dropped it. "Hold it to where it bleeds, hopefully, it will stop."

little & last post from me <3

The silver found herself nodding at both the mention of Takiyok and of the moss Valette described. “Da, yes, I... th-thank you.” Both caretakers were right in their own assessments, and as the highland overlord went to gather the bristly, green felt, Aurëwen carefully hobbled the way on down to the brawn bear.

Half of her world had gone red and dark and aching, and she now relied thoroughly on touch and the placement of her pads as she went. Through the argent eye that remained seeing and terror-stricken, Aure saw the shoulder and weight that Evergreen proffered. Oh, h-how considerate of him. Without much ado, the skayona did what she thought best.

So when Valette returned, with her moss, the matriarch would find the little she-wolf perched snugly upon the bear’s back. As if nothing was even amiss, the herbalist warbled to them both, “Thank you, ze... ze both of you,” and un-pillowed her head from Evergreen’s ruff so that Valette could come and stopper the bleeding.

Last post from me too!

Much to his surprise, his offer for leaning her weight upon his bulk turns into an presumed invitation for climbing on his back. Alas, the bear is strong and large enough that the petite Aurë can rest snuggly without issue. He tenses under the unfamiliar feeling, and yet, attempts to relax his muscles the best he can. It is less from the additional pressure; more-so from being startled at the interaction.

Valette is quick on her feet, however, and returns swiftly with moss. It is not much, but hopefully will do the trick long enough to get Aurë quickly home without further damage done. Eve just needed to get a move on. A quiet thank you is passed to both the bear and Matriarch, and with the moss in place, Eve gives Valette a quick grin and nod.

Just like that, they are off on the road to Diaspora.

Valette was worried for the female, she shouldn't travel with her condition but she couldn't blame the other for wanting to see her children. The mother watched the bear and the white female leave for her pack after she brought them the moss for her wounds. She didn't know much but hoped that it would help her during her travels. "Safe trip!," she called out after them and then move back into the territory. The following days she would think about the female a lot, wondering if she made it home alright.

- end -

I will archive!