He had been content, once; he had once felt secure within the pillars of Easthollow. He knew, of course, that the stones did not protect them, but the stones had always reflected what his family was, their solidarity, their strength, their tenacity. The stones had always reflected his family, but had they ever reflected him?
No one had shrunk in the face of Leta's attack except for him. Even the newcomers to Easthollow had charged their perpetrator when Leta had been tossed aside. Valette, and Greyback, even Vespera had sought to guard his fallen sister. Everyone had done their part.
But Merrit could still see the deer-eyed stare of his sister as she had soared through the air, could still feel the press of the grass against his skin as he'd collapsed to the ground while the world spun about him. He could still envision her still against the ground. He hadn't caught her; he hadn't helped her; he hadn't caught or killed the wretch who had assaulted her. He hadn't even landed a blow. He had simply froze.
He had done nothing.
The border of Lost Creek Hollow ranged before him, strongly marked, and largely unfamiliar. His mother had directed him toward this forest many suns before, but he had only remembered her charge to him now. Healing, caretaking; he wished to learn, he needed a teacher - tired though he was, he reminded himself that this was what he wanted - and these wolves would be his first try at finding someone who knew. Healing would help his family the most. But even as he tipped his head to request an audience, he knew they needed so much more.
with quiet words I'll lead you in
obviously he cant say as much, but cortland has some knowledge of medicinal herbs so i figured id toss him in <3
he's near the borders when the call reaches him, and for several moments, the golden mayfair finds himself floundering. what good would he be answering a border call when he cannot speak? what good is he for anything within a pack setting, aside being another hunter, another set of teeth digging into an intruder's hide? perhaps that is his only purpose now — that and raising @Pheiros. he knows he should be content with what he has: a home, stability, relative freedom, a healthy child. but he is not.all these thoughts race through his mind in a matter of seconds, and the last of them finally spurs him to turn in search of the source of the call. it doesn't take very long. he chuffs when he spots the dark boy who smells so strongly of the pack neighboring his own, doing his best to appear friendly as he approaches. he doesn't have to try very hard, of course; despite his best efforts, cortland has always been rather like the wolf incarnation of winnie the pooh, only a touch smarter and a lot more gay. halting mere yards from the stranger, he offers a dip of his head before settling his hind end against the earth. he can only hope he isn't making things awkward.
<3 !! You're all good, thanks for joining! :D
Merrit turned toward the chuff, making quick judgement of the man who approached him. Courteous, to alert him to his presence, instead of making him search. Amiable, by the lightness in which he carried himself. Passive, in allowing Merrit to take the first word. A commoner, by how he held his rank by sitting before him. Any wolf of noble blood would have stood tall, with head and tail raised like a banner to proclaim their heritage. And this man did neither.
This man was not a noble, but Merrit stood on the cusp of his land, and for this alone, the raven bowed his head and assumed a position that acknowledged the golden man's authority here. Tail low, and gaze askewed from the other man's face - yet he refused to grovel; Merrit's stance remained proud and tall. "Hello," his voice rang low and strong, "My name is Merrit, son of Valette, and heir of Easthollow." He wondered what this man's claim would be. Was he a prince of any land? Was he a peasant? A scholar? What had he been, and what was he here? "My mother sent me out to seek a teacher here, someone who has knowledge in the medicines and herbs - " and the rest of his question, he left hanging in the careful way he eyed the man, hoping that this was enough for him to understand, enough to prompt the man to speak.
with quiet words I'll lead you in
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