Whitewater Gorge Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn

He moved north and cut across the rolling hills with their excessive greenery until a forest stood out upon the flatlands; but upon approaching it he sensed danger, noticing the disquiet of the woods and a few trails which looked to be wolf-sized. He went close enough to inspect a few of the tree trunks and found fresh scat, and further along a more pungent urine stain which had killed some otherwise vibrant new grass — and Yellowbelly knew he couldn't cross through the forest. So he avoided the cover of the trees and roamed.

Gradually the plateau he had been crossing became sloped, descending further and further - at times too steep for his burly body, other times dropping off like a sheer cliff; he back-tracked a few times and eventually came to a great chasm. If he peered over the edge he couldn't see the bottom of the gorge, although the way the light played off the rocks was intriguing. He couldn't recall ever seeing anything like this before — but alas, that meant very little. If he wanted to keep going he'd have to find a crossing point - thus, Yellowbelly began his exhaustive search.

hahaholy shit i just remembered that yellowbelly is technically his dad

As he crossed through the flatlands towards the shore a burden began to grow within his body. Something had taken over him, like a dark cloud over his body. It was not physical, but it often felt like he could not move. When he woke he did not want to get up. It had delayed him a few days — he might have been at the ocean by now had it not been for the strange malady that had overtaken his mind and body.

His first thought was that this was a curse — perhaps some spirit from the Woods had latched onto him and was leeching his energy. For what reason he could not say why, but it was up to him to dispel such energies from him as soon as possible.

He didn't have a crystal or stone or anything to ground his magic, so he searched for one near the gorge, hoping to find a broken off shiny stone nearby.

The chasm spanned miles, and most of the points where he thought he could leap across were decrepit enough to make him doubt himself; that or the distance was too great for his stout self to manage, either way it wasn't happening. The water roared along the tear in the earth and he followed it until his path seemed to descend within it. Towering stacks of stone and cleaved granite rose up as great walls around him.

It was then that he noticed something in the air — an almost familiar scent, but for reasons he could not fathom. He paused and looked around, catching a flash of ruddy red in his periphery, which by itself was rather jarring. Yellowbelly doubled-back and made to intercept the burly shape, yet the closer he got the slower he moved. There was something strange about them; beyond familiar, even. His first thought was of the crazy woman he'd once met — and the fact he could recall the moment with clarity was surprising by itself — and all Larus could think was, is this my brother? They looked so much like that wild woman who claimed to be his blood, but...

When he was close enough to drink in their scent from the path they left trailing behind them, Larus realized the stranger was young. Too young to be his kin, at least. Maybe just a burly look-alike. He followed quietly after them without thinking about the potential alternatives, eager to intercept them and get some answers -- perhaps they were a piece of his forgotten past?

As he walked closer to the edge of the gorge, he found himself increasingly disappointed as his gaze scoured the cliffsides. He trampled over many of them, but none of the stones that he saw had the properties that he desired. He grunted with annoyance, feeling the blackness take over him once more. Perhaps somewhere else. Perhaps later. He turned around.

Of all of Potema's children, Ganon had been the only one who had not met his father. There were a few reasons why — his mother liked the Twins' and Vaati's fathers better, she knew them better really. Yet Ganon was left fatherless, the name and identity of his pater lost to Potema's addled (or lost) mind. 

Hey, Ganon did not have a spark of recognition when he looked at the stranger that had — apparently — been behind him.. His trademark flame-coating came from his paternal grandmother, and such traits were not distinct in the male before him; the fur was too dull, the only brightness a different hue than Ganon's. So he greeted the man like any other stranger, especially one who had snuck up behind him like a stalker.

When the stranger took notice of him, turned and spoke, Yellowbelly was expecting — well, he wasn't sure. Some form of recognition, maybe. A lightning strike, an eruption of understanding, something that would clarify things to him. Rather than get any sort of answer to his unspoken questions he got a greeting - and for a second or two, just stared at the stranger's face. The look of the stranger really struck a chord within Larus; he saw pieces of himself reflected back, between the burly proportions of their body to the round, soft, weighted quality of their face and --- and the colors, that flaming mask, everything was just so — —

Uh, hi, he shot back once he realized he was staring like a creep. He glanced at the man's eyes and felt his guts constrict, his belly filling with fluttering wings, because they looked like his eyes. But he had no memory of this wolf or any relation between them - Larus never once thought about being their parent, and had to focus himself, lest he get lost in his mind to the possibilities. Um, sorry -- you look, like, really familiar. But also not at all. Which... Makes no sense, obviously. Do I --- know you? Do you recognize me at all...? The more he rambled the less certain he felt, until he made himself stop talking because hell he knew he sounded like a crazy person.

The wolf stared at him in silence for a brief period of time, and Ganon felt a creeping sense of dread overtake his melancholy. Ganon stared back, his face scrunching up. Can I help you? he said tentatively, his words unsure. His body tensed, hoping that he wasn't going to get jumped by this weird guy.

The yellow-masked wolf spoke, and Ganon's confusion only grew. No...? he knew very few wolves that lived here in Teekon outside of his family — and the mane had no resemblance to anyone in his family or even his pack. You must have me confused with someone else. He didn't know any one who even resembled him — he had always been the odd one out. He had some fantasy that his father looked very similar to him — perhaps that was why his mother was attracted to that stranger in the first place.

Well this was awkward. Larus had a distinct impression that this person was important for some reason, but when they rebuked his questions and reminded him of how mindless he was, he sighed and nodded, right... It felt like the answers were so close to him; that somehow this person might know something, because something about them was so familiar --- but that made no sense, and the confusion shared between them (however different the sensations were) only made Larus feel further defeated.

Sorry, he remarked as his questions ceased. You look familiar to me, but.. I had a bit of an accident and my memory isn't so good. I thought you might know me. He didn't want to get in to the details; the young man wasn't the type to volley his entire life story at a total stranger, especially after the awkwardness of the initial meeting. Sorry for bothering you... and he pulled away from the stranger, skulking away a few steps.

Ganon wasn't sure what to make of the male. He felt a pang of sympathy knot in his chest, something that he rarely experienced. It deepened when he heard of his memory loss. It made Ganon wonder — would he be better if he had lost his memory? If he had forgotten everything? As far as I remember I've never met you. He shrugged, hoping that he looked genuinely apologetic. Sorry.