Ocean's Breath Plateau à la dérive en mer

The slough had left her muddied and wild by the time she had gotten free of it.

As uncomfortable as the situation made her, she had only cleaned some of the muck from her. The skies spoke of rain to come one way or another; she could smell the moisture crisply in the warm air, in the rush of wind over open land. Whatever fears she had carried she had left behind the moment she had seen her out of the swamp, and now the openness where hinterland met the beginning of the coast enticed her to go further.

It had been a string of days since she had disappeared from the glade by now; she knew if anyone had noticed they would have been looking for it for certain. This notion alone pressed haste into her steps as she persisted ahead, following the sun patches across the fertile plain of tall grasses.

And then she saw it in the distance—a plateau.

Perhaps taller and more proud than her birthplace, it intrigued her.

She headed towards it just as swiftly as she could go, pushing still when her legs insisted that she stopped. It was almost a runner's high, some out of body experience that encouraged her to go and go, to push every limit that she had not before. She cut the majority of that distance by half before she felt herself begin to wane.

And by the time the sun had hit midday, she was weary when she reached the upward climb of the plateau. The day was warmer now and her tongue lolled openly. Anxiety had come back to her as she stopped to rest along a rocky slide—wide-eyed she looked, searched, expecting to see some familiar shape below her about to call her name. Perhaps it would be her father. Perhaps it would even be Rannoch fast on her heels. Or her siblings, least the ones that could fend for themselves. She knew it would be her mother or the newest of their family, still far too young to follow let alone do more than squeak.

But there was no one there, at least not yet.

Yet her nerves remained frayed.

@Blossom, perhaps?

yeets tristan 

i don't know where along tristan's timeline this is taking place but! whatever. who cares. he was traversing the coast like a nim-nom, just exploring and shit, when he noticed a black form -- probably around his age, maybe younger, a little more leggy than full grown females were... if we're talking hip ratio, i mean. nevermind. friendly to most extents, tristan let out a quick chuff to grab her attention, hoping to get a good conversation in and maybe get his mind off a few lingering ~*~emotions~*~ ... when a scent that was wildly too recognizable hit him in the face. oh fuck. he knew this wolf. 

fine! you caught him! tristan had been a terrible, terrible packmate or whatever and had paid very little attention to raven and quixote's kids. but, like, he knew who they were... they had gone on group hunts and patrols behind the scenes (probably). they'd definitely recognize him -- or like, they should've. but maybe they wouldn't because of how much he sucked. who knows. tristan certainly recognized her. 

he slowed a bit as he got closer, ears flicking and head tilting. phoebe? he asked, tail beginning to sway.

As luck would have it, someone did happen upon her.

But it was not the someone that she had been anticipating. It was still someone she would have rather gone without seeing if she had ever got a say in anything. Dread willed itself into the empty space left by the calling of Tegan's voice and if not for the dark fur that covered her, all the color would have drained from her face. She felt it do that very thing, felt the pins and needles and prickles of being caught in the act of something that seemed so embarrassing.

She couldn't remember his name.

Her mouth opened and closed, brows knitting together as she openly struggled to find something to say. She hadn't seen him in so long but she knew him for who he was—a Blackthorn, a Redhawk essentially—and remembered that he had left them just like the rest. That was the darkening cloud that crossed her countenance now, and her knitted brows furrowed instead.

"You," she replied, almost accusatory. "You're one of the ones who left." One of the unhappy ones, the one that would surely turn her into a hypocrite on the spot.

oh shit. oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh-- oh wait, lol. duh. just lie.

when towhee told me she was leaving we got into a fight and she had that stupid bird attack me. i figured she was taking the whole pack with her, i didn't think anyone would be left at the plateau. he frowned, ears flicking -- including the split one that was a clear indication of a bird attack (kinda). 

he paused to look her over, deciding a few things mentally as well. you left too, though, so maybe keep your voice down, he added with another flick of an ear, his chin tilting up gently.

Her eyes narrowed when he turned things around on her. Was it possible he knew her plan? Or was he more in the loop with what went on than she realized, that perhaps somehow he had kept in touch and she had simply been too self-absorbed to see? Somehow she doubted that, all of it. Towhee visited them. Phox visited them. Eljay, Finley, the list went on. She didn't recall hearing that he had ever come around.

But could she really fault him? She could, and did.

"I left?" She snorted, feeling fire at her heels suddenly. "What makes you think that I, or we, left? You think I wanted to leave the plateau to go to some stupid forest? Maybe if none of you had left we wouldn't have had to go there, we would have been happy—" and she hit her tipping point, her voice suddenly straining, cracking with emotion at pent up anger that had nowhere to go for so long. If she had been able to cry, the tears would have been evident.

Forcefully, she managed: "Maybe you wouldn't have hurt us!"

She moved to try and get away, to run, to simply flee this problem and this interaction like she would have any other only to find the cold stone of the coastal plateau at her back. The rough bump of it against her backside only left her feeling trapped and suddenly in a panic, overwhelmed by him, overwhelmed with her own actions both logical and not. None of this would go over well, not now or ever.

It was directionless, pointless to contest. She knew deep down it wasn't his fault.

And the selfishness of her own actions swooped in to fill that hole swiftly.

She sank to the sloping earth, ears pinning back to her skull.

whoa whoa whoa... whoops. bad wolf to have a breakdown with -- tristan was not an emotions guy. at least, he claimed he wasn't, though secretly tristan probably had more emotion than half of the wolves on this god forsaken site. maybe not as much as ibis, though, that girl got some feelings and i don't blame her. he was at least a little inwardly proud he'd managed to turn the conversation back on her -- you know you're winning an argument when all the other person can do is 1. yell and 2. flee. both things she did... though she didn't get very far, which is where tristan regretted most of this. 

it took a lot within him not to just scream back -- because tristan loved screaming -- but he figured he shouldn't yell at the youths. 

hey hey hey, he muttered gently, ears folding back, i didn't wanna leave the plateau to go to some stupid forest either... that's why i just left. that's why i'm all the way out here and i'm guessing that's why you're all the way out here too... his voice trailed off, but he took a step back before sitting down, giving her a little bit of space if she chose to bolt out and around him, but he was also showing he was here to talk civilly if she so chose to. 

he was quiet for a second, if she chose to say anything. i'm sorry everyone left. things were a lot better when they were still at the plateau, he said quietly, split ear flicking. damn, aint that the truth.

He stayed where he was and she hastily, angrily thought of that was a good thing. He wouldn't try to corner her further, at least not physically. Not that Tegan had ever seemed the sort to go lording over someone just to rub their face in the dirt for no good reason. He certainly wasn't about to do it now in jest when there was no game to be played.

But his mouth kept going, motoring through and over whatever semblance of stewing she had hoped to create for herself. He rightly accused her for being out there though the flash of indignatation she couldn't avoid hurling at him like a dagger. But the words to argue that she was doing nothing of the sort, the lies, they did not come. Let him think whatever he wanted, whatever would appease him.

And when silence finally came, it did not last, but at least they were on the same page.

Her gaze dropped to her feet, still streaked with mud from her venture in the swamp.

"Just go," she mumbled out, a poor icy command she thought him sure to ignore.

well duh he'd ignore it!! jeez. 

tristan didn't really have much else to say other than 'can u get ur fuckin panties out of a fuckin twist jesus christ!' so he didn't say anything, but he did just stand there and stare at her, giving her a :/ sort of expression. like... what was he supposed to do? was this seriously that bad of an idea to come talk to her? he didn't think so -- sheesh, he was just trying to be friendly! 

still. he stood and stared.

His gaze bored into her and she wondered if she would ever feel such a judgmental stare again. The chances were no doubt high, given her present predicament, and that was also presuming that she didn't just up and wilt and wither away on the spot beneath the intensity of such an icy, glacial gaze.

But she didn't, perhaps much to her dismay.

A sigh punctuated the silence that had painfully drawn itself out and she squirmed uncomfortably. This was far worse than any talking to she had even been privy to or witness of, the disappointment perhaps imaginary or residual from the fleeting memory; she hated it. She hated every ounce of the feelings that welled inside her in such a conflicting, confusing hurricane.

"I want to be alone," she said, stressing the last word. "I want to think. I don't need you for that." Her voice found itself, but the words were all bitter. Maybe he was simply there because he cared, because wasn't that what she would have done? If the tables had been turned and this was her finding Kite, or Owen, or even Vasa there, wouldn't she have stayed in spite their protests?

Was it really that hard to not think that any of them cared?

She hated considering that too—suddenly turning tail seemed a weakness that burned as hotly as any shame and she'd already done that over and over again. The thought of how much worse it would be had it been her father standing there crossed her suddenly and she realized she wanted nothing to do with the emotions that boiled just under her skin.

"Just go," she repeated.

tristan held his breath, not really knowing what to say or do from here. he guessed he should leave her... but that didn't feel right. but.. also, tristan knew nothing. okay, was all he said at first, taking a step back. he hesitated for a second before adding, look -- i'm starting a pack in the coconut grove west of here. if you ever need somewhere to stay, my doors are open. and then, with a single nod, tristan turned to leave her.

jesus christ, kids were annoying. tristan was glad he was never that annoying.

I don't care, was exactly what almost came out of her mouth. But the turn of his body away from her and the conclusion to their... conversation of sorts did enough to silence her. There was a moment of panic that threatened to eke its way out into the world—he was leaving, honest to god leaving her without so much as a fight. Her siblings would have pestered her further and, well, she'd have never spoken to her parents the way she had done him.

Or would she have?

It was hard to say, but Phoebe didn't dare move for the longest time. Not until she was certain that he was gone and no one else was coming to torment her in his wake. Or retrieve her from where she had plastered herself to the warm, stony earth. Only when she was fully satisfied that no one else was set to come after her did she move, and only then did she with great haste beat a path away from the plateau and further into the unknown.