Grouse Thicket Whiskey please

His mother taught him little about love, and heartbreak but one thing she taught him was accept anything, good or bad, with humility. It wasn't easy to do and often he found himself surpressing his own feelings but it was better to be humble than make himself look like a fool. However Towhees' rejection still hurt, and he very much felt foolish. To bare ones feelings and have them rejected always stung, more so for the first timers. Sure there were his childhood crushes that met similar fates but those insignificant feelings was a far from the very real ones he had for her. As he moped along, his mind projected his pathetic rejection over and over, and his ears listened to the words she spoke while his heart cringed at it all. Embarrassment wrapped around Rye like a Christmas present, and the bow was made up of heartache. He was the perfect definition of a broken hearted love bird, or wolf.

The awkwardness that would persist between Rye and Towhee made going back to the main center of the pack territory, impossible. Rye was dedicated to avoiding Towhee for the next week. Although one problem still remained, he was sick, and not any better. He knew not what medicine he should take, nor where to begin looking. Fortunately, his illness was staying steady. Not worsing but not getter better; it wasn't ideal, but it was better than getting worse. He needed to eat, and maybe get a drink too but he was tired, the breeze was cool, and sleep called to him. Although he was in foreign lands he wasn't too concerned, he slept lightly and took short naps. Rye found a good spot by a tree, guarded by shrubbery with himself camouflaged by the bark of the tree. He packed himself tightly into the crook of the trees roots and waited for sleep to find him. That is, if his mind ever stopped playing its favorite movie of the week.

Later that day Wraen would find out that Colt had passed away, but until that moment there were few hours ahead, while her life was normal and filled with the routine tasks of everyday. Her star-student Elfie had shown good progress in his training and she had promised him that next time they had their outings, he would have a chance to hunt something more interesting and challenging than frogs or small rodents. Grouse thicket therefore had seemed the obvious choice. 

The birds were big and worth the interest and effort. And, unless something had changed significantly, then usually, where you found one, you would find half a dozen more. Since her arrival at the thicket she worked diligently - tracked, made notes on the signs and the age of the prints, she even found, what seemed like an abandoned nest and managed to scare one of the species out of the shrubbery and up in a tree. It stayed there, regarding the predator accusingly. 

Wraen gave it a toothy grin and moved on. You just wait, pal... she promised and moved on. In a different part of thicket there were signs of not so many birds around than the wealth of bilberries. They were not a foodstuff she would consider wholesome and filling, but they did well as tasty treats. And this was, how she stumbled upon the resting wolf. She sat down, regarded him for a while and then said: "Please, tell me that you are alive?"

Sleep was close, knocking at his door with its feather like knocks. The noise around him was fading, bluring into one collective noise. His dreams began playing along with the symphony of sounds coming from the forest. He was at peace, his mind wasn't full of humiliation, shame or otherwise, he was blissful. The stress of being sick and being heartbroken tired the poor guy out, not to mention he missed his daily nap anyway. It was about time peace and serenity found shelter in his mind.

That was until a voice rudely dragged him out of sleep, and threw his mind out into a cold snow (Despite it being summer) At least thats what it felt like to Rye. One eye broke open his seal to stare down the invader, scrutiny etched into his pupils; but then forgiveness slipped through as he recognized the wolf. What seemed like forever ago became a current memory, it was When. When? Wren? Waren? Son of a -- he couldn't remember but it was a nice face to see. He remembered she was from a sister pack, well back when he was with Redhawks (or Frosthawks now). AG was a sister pack of Redhawks, so by extension did that make it a distant sister pack of Firebirds? The semantics didn't matter, it was a pleasant sight to see a friendly wolf.

"You know, they say its unwise to poke the sleeping bear." He grinned and hauled himself up from his position. Even with everything going on, his jokes were still there. Guess you can't keep a good dog down.

"Unless you want to know, if you need to dig a grave for him," Wraen replied with an amused smile. At a closer inspection she had a distinct feeling that the face was familiar and that they had definitely met at some point. But with so much on her shoulders and so many problems to solve she could not for life recall the meeting itself. Almost eight months is a wolf equivalent of a life-time after all.

"I think that we have met, but my old leaky memory refuses to tell me when and how," she told him with a sly smile. "So, you have two options now - you can rewrite the history and come up with something super-impressive that ends up with me - unfortunately losing my memory or..." she furrowed her brow and looked up briefly (that move is considered to help gain information influx from the cosmos, beats me) and finished. "Or we can begin on blank slate with introductions and all."

Witty as ever, that was one of the main things he remembered about her. He chuckled at her joke. She had humor that rivaled his own fiercely, even if Ryes humor wasn't all that developed, hers certainly was. She moved on to admitting she had bad memory and thought they had met. Giving him options that would prove to be a fun addition to reintroducing each other. His mind wasted no time brainstorming a story, he grinned as it wrapped up.

"Yeah, okay! We met, but the first time we met there was this super meanie bear and I totally saved your life from it!" Rye had to force down any signs of a smirk to get through the story but alas, by the end of it he was smilling like crazy. "My name is Rye, glad to see you alive and well after that horrible bear attack" He spoke in a playful posh like accent, hopefully nailing home it was just a joke, if she didnt already know. "In all seriousness, I'm not sure where we met but I do know it was a good time. Probably why I remember you, otherwise my brain would've wiped you from itself." He jokingly rolled his eyes, along with his head, acting fed up with his own brain. He kind of was.

"And your name is..? Wait, don't tell me. Gwen? Right?" He knew he was wrong, awfully wrong but it was a better shot than none.

"And I did not swear eternal love to you in gratitude and marry you on the spot?" Wraen pretended to be surprised and then broke out laughing, because the guy was just that good at spinning the impossible tale. "So rude of me, I hope that you find a place in your pure and noble heart to forgive a lady," she said and wiped tears away from her eyes.

"The same goes for me. Let's call it destiny then," she agreed and nodded in agreement. "It's Gwendolyn Clancy Firestorm of the great and noble House of Reneverminds and ton of other fancy titles that I won't mention out of mercy to your ears and brain," she grinned. "Friends call me Wraen. And you were Sir Reginald Wrongfoot, right?"

"Oh, my dearest lady. You did but your sins be too great. How do I forgive thee from thy gravest sins? But alas my heart shan't stay cross against yours, so I must forgiveth thy sins against me." His accent could use some work but otherwise he was damn happy. He could feel his cheeks getting sore from the amount of smiling he was doing. He couldn't be more greatful for it though, he needed all those smiles and laughs. Laugher is always the best medicine.

Rye moved on to the spaghetti storm that was Wraens' name. The male stood blank for a split second before sharing her grin. "Heavens me, quite the name but as for I? No, it is Wrongfoot Reginald. I know, terrible name. It's why I usually go by Rye. Way easier." Their bantering was soul filling, bringing so much joy to Ryes' mournful heart. For a while there, Towhee was out of the picture. "Anyways, how goes your life? You were in a pack yes?"

Goodness I love these two lol

"Wry-Rye - I see, why you would do that," Wraen toyed with his name a bit and hoped that in the caleidoscope of fancy tales each of them had offered a grain of truth to the other. 

"Oh, same old, same old," she tried to decide, whether she should bore him with the spotlights of her mundane life or should she keep walking the crazy lane and continue to spin stories. 

"Yes - indeed. Firebirds," she answered. "And I will make a totally wild guess and say that you are from Asterism Grove?"

Wild guess? Wild guess!? Rye looked bewildered, and a little worried. "You uh - You're not stalking me right?" He laughed but he was still a little worried. "Cause yeah, that's where I reside all of my nights." Rye didn't put two and two together and remember that sister packs talk to each other. Towhee was still out of his mind so he wouldn't have guessed she might've said he was there either. As far as he knew, she was a magic gypsy.

"Stalk you? I would never," Wraen pretended to be slightly offended, but her cheeky smile betrayed her. Rye on the other hand really looked worried and she thought she should elucidate him on the matter to set his troubled thoughts at rest. 

"I will reveal you a little secret - you told me this yourself. I just asked a clever question," she explained, then she got to her feet, arched her back to stretch in a cat-like manner and finished this exercise with shaking her coat. 

"Alright, my noble knight!" she spoke to him. "I have a practical quest in mind and I would be honoured to have your assistance," she told him. "Are you up for it?"

I apologize but I need to wrap this up, life is taking the reins back and I dont want to keep you held up in this thread any longer. Thank you however for this wonderful piece!

Rye couldn't remember a damn thing he told her but it didnt matter, she knew and he was fine with it. Alas he couldn't stay much longer due to unforeseen issues. "Sadly, I must refuse, you see, I cannot stay. Although next time we meet, I shall be at your every beck and call." With a playful smile, he pardoned himself. Returning back to the Grove.

Wraen was disappointed to see him go so early and on her way back to copse she wondered, whether it was just her bad luck with the opposite sex or it was a common thing. You met a person, with whom you hit it off right away and then - sorry, no! She did not even want to count how many eligible bachelors were on that list already. 

So maybe, just maybe this whole courtship and mate business was simply not worth it. Her life as a single lady was not that bad after all. This thought cheered her up, she smiled and decided to think of this no more.