Moonspear long in tooth and soul

Another chilly day, another example of the season turning sharp and swift towards winter. The leaves curled, clutching tight their greenery for yet another day, but even he knew it would not be long before they shed pelage and offered such to still damp soil. The trembling had quieted for now, though Dirge could not quite hold tight to the reassurance that all was well, and had not dared to venture too high along the mountainside.

He took refuge in the thick forest where pine boughs draped roughly against his dark, earthen coat; where the shade and breeze alike made the picturesque vista seem all that more winter ready. If not for the birds, there would have been a resolute silence there that proved unsettling and even he took note of the absence the roving herds left.

Sparing a thought of where they could have gone was relatively pointless—they would return when all was quiet, when all was at some base normalcy again. If they had rendered their range to the flatlands beyond the foothills, then they would hunt them out there in time. Though no easy feat, he did not doubt the collective prowess in all their ability to drive them back to hearth and heartland, and preferably before autumn gave way to the icy grasp of years end.

A sigh loosened as he stretched, and hind legs kicked the ground as he started off.

@Arcturus maybe?

arcturus too had noticed the splendor of summer gone. he had lived through one winter, and recalled little of it except its bitterness; he was not looking forward to enduring a second.

yet seasons -- just like life, sorrows, and unluckiness -- were meant to be endured. summer's days were over, and winter nipped aggressively at fall's heels. soon, the sparse mountain grasses would be smothered by uncaring winter slow. there was little use lamenting such unchangeable things in arcturus' mind, yet he could not help but let loose a sentimental sigh as he thought of how he would miss the soft songs of summering birds, or the idyllic view of golden sunlight through the green forest.

ahead he heard the tread of another. ears perked, arcturus swung towards the source and saw in the distance, dirge's receding backside. with a loud whuff to announce he was nearby (if dirge had not already heard him) arcturus swung into a canter with loose-limbed ease, pulling up alongside his sister's mate. "what do you make of all those tremors?" arcturus sided dirge with a quiet question, knowing that the male was far more seasoned (and wiser) than he.

With a crisp call and a second to spare, he was joined by Arcturus not long into his continuation. Time had made his company an easy thing to endure; the yearling moved with him easily and very much like the shade Dirge thought him to be, a question unholstered easily to begin their conversation.

"Unsettling," but more than that, yet the solitary word sufficed.

His gaze drew to his companion, another wondering question to follow.

"Are such things common here? I can't say that I recall them at all, if ever." Mountains that shook and trembled as though they were scared of something unseen. Or perhaps it was more of a roar, of something awakening from deep beneath. Either thought, however fantastical, was uncomfortable to consider. Had it been he alone, he would have quit the place for quieter, favorable locales. But now there were far more things to consider, and he was left to stow his unease.

unsettling, came the man's reply -- and if arcturus were the type of wolf to find amusement in irony, he might have smiled. noting it, he simply offered a lift of one corner of his lips. unsettling was apt indeed.

he had grown up here along the 'spear -- and other than an occasional upset of stone from the lofty peaks, had never experienced anything of such length. he spoke as such, his tone soft but filled with worry. "it is not usual." but so many things he had said might be unusual took place in moonspear.. after all, what good had come since his parent's death? other than their grandchildren, of course.

"i don't know what to make of it." arcturus admitted with a sigh. he prided himself, for the most part, for being rational for his age -- but this was well beyond his sphere of understanding. he looked to dirge and wondered if this man, capped with far more experience than he, might have an answer.

Not usual, but indeed what things were usual about their particular lives? He received little in the way of comfort from Arcturus, but he hadn't quite sought it either. Whatever comfort he had when it all began had been funneled towards the children even when he couldn't quite pin down how they felt—perhaps it were a strange combination of unease and anticipation of the exciting variety, though there was little no doubt in his mind that Hydra had explained just why they needed to stick close. And there was little doubt in his mind then that they were presently testing that particular clause in their instruction.

"I'm not so sure there's much we are to make of it." He sounded far more humored than he ought have. "And I suspect there is relatively little we can do than endure it." If the mountain decided to give way on them, then all he hoped for was enough sense, time, and luck to steer clear of it. He knew better than to rely on his own instinct to flee; it was always present, even now, though more in the sense to wander and be wild with little to justify the notion. It was hardly from boredom, as the mountain surely provided the interest with all upon it, least of all the aforementioned brood.

Drawing his gaze outward as they traveled along, he continued.

"Did you see that the stones to the north gave way? The ones in the foothills outside our claim. I heard it some time ago, but you can see the swath they made through the weeds from the border."

endure. 


all his life he had heard that word. a proud word; the word of his father. he had believed charon and amekaze would always endure — endure as the mountain had..

first they fell apart — and now the mountain.  

arcturus glanced to dirge as he mentioned the northern reach of their home. i was there when it happened. the male murmured, eyes sweeping involuntarily towards that distant summit. well, nearby. i met a wolf there, who spoke of “pale faces” and wore a thick band of something neither plant nor pelt around his neck. i knew not what to make of it — but the pass is gone, and whoever was in that valley likely dead.

"A thick band?"

He had half-expected to hear about how the stone separated from itself from the get go, but the conversation turned to a more interesting note than what the very earth threatened to do beneath their moving feet.

And the pass was gone, a pity perhaps, but Dirge couldn't recall the last time he had made use of it. There were more ways into the hinterlands than a scant trail that wove wildly between sawtooth stones. His brow furrowed in thought as he discarded that last bit, and his head shook as he grappled with the concept.

It was strange, and yet...

"Around his neck," he murmured, abruptly absent.

There was a recognition that stuck with him, that slowed his steps just a touch. The fact he was being vague did not elude him as much as the memory did—he realized Arcturus wouldn't have remembered, assuming he had been a thought at all at the time. Another dismissal, this time vocal and nested in his mouth. The memory was hazy, an eon ago if there had ever been one with all that had happened since.

"It's funny that you mention that, I remember a time when there was a wolf here with the same thing—what did he look like?"

the mention of that fangled band, and dirge's expression suddenly seemed distant. arcturus could not help the narrowing of his gaze as he looked upon the older male -- had he seen such wares in his time?

and then it all became clear; perhaps the affliction was not as rare as arcturus was lead to believe... or perhaps this wolf was the very same in dirge's distant past. "red. very red." he answered eagerly, his lower lip bitten in confusion as he recalled how the wolf had struggled to remove the not-vines from its throat. such a horrible place, he thought, to have something permanently affixed to you. "the thing about pale faces.. does that mean anything to you?"

No, very red didn't match the hazy face that came to him through memory. A frown bloomed at the provision and the question to follow—he couldn't even begin to quite unpack what pale faces meant, wasn't sure he wanted to entirely. A fable, then, something fictitious and spun up from the dust that had yet to settle in the closed off passage. At least he could content himself with the notion.

"Nary a thing," he rejoined, "and it would seem that it isn't even the same wolf, though I did wonder what became of him." Long gone, maybe even dead by now. Perhaps Hydra had run him off in the time that Dirge had left, or maybe the very collar around his neck had choked him somewhere they simply hadn't found.

"It was a strange time," he went on to say, as though they weren't presently at that juncture again. His head shook, clearing the thought and memory all at once. "I'm not sure you were even a thought then. Or born, even. Perhaps @Hydra would remember better than I." Far too much had changed since, and continued to do so.

arcturus had similar thoughts as dirge, unbeknownst to the boy -- how quickly he wished to unpack this unsavory "pale faces" mention, and write it off as some ludicrous fairy tale no more real than the boggersmash (an entity i made up just now, that steals socks from the sleeping and is why, you can only ever find one sock of a pair -- socks with holes in them excluded, as those are beneath the boggersmash and their private cache of socks).

but it didn't add up. the stranger had seemed so earnest, so believing in his own words -- arcturus hadn't caught a single trace of a lie. "a strange time.." arcturus found himself ruminating -- maybe this wolf was a remnant of one of those bygone, strange eras. "maybe that's when he got it.. i didn't ask.. it.. something didn't feel right." arcturus had been trained long ago by charon to not give into feelings, but here he was, full admission, in front of dirge -- somehow, he didn't think dirge would ridicule him for being in touch with his feelings for once.

And ridicule him he would not—in fact the very thing only seemed to suggest his evolution as a being rather than inferior. Dirge thought that his wariness was well placed more than anything, but then again he had been wary of the collar that had been tightened fast around the neck of Dune. He had tried to remove it, though he did not know whether or not it had been more of a success or failure. It had only brought on more questions than answers, and he had shortly thereafter avoided both collar and wolf alike.

But the call of the wild had also summoned him, and instead he found himself also dredging up how he had wanted to steal Hydra away. The mountainside had not been the life he thought he deserved, or would have... yet there he was.

"Perhaps," he found himself saying, only to clarify, "perhaps he was of the same sort that was once here. All I remember of the thing I saw was that we could not remove it. I'm not so sure that the fellow who had it wanted it gone, either." His ears pinned back at the recollection stirring again. "Whatever it is, and however they became the receipients, it isn't right. It doesn't belong. Perhaps it chokes the sense out of them."

He came swiftly around to a decision then, something he did not recall Charon deciding.

"If he comes near here, we would be wise to chase him away."

Let the wilds deal with the collared nightmare, not them.

arcturus would have admitted it to none, but an indescribable fear had settled under his skin when he had seen basil — so desperate to be rid of the band — struggle to remove the collar. he was not a man of timid or fearful disposition, and even then he had known it was wrong. unnatural.

he reciprocated dirge’s verdict with a firm nod. they were in agreement — that which they did not know the dangerous ought not to belong to their mountain. i think that’s wise. the male affirmed, a flick of his tail given as if renouncing the memory. we are not a sanctuary. i hope I never see the likes of him — or those strange pale faces he kept mentioning. it must be like you said, the thing takes all the sense from those that wear them. something about it all caused arcturus’ skin to crawl and hackles to raise.

We are not a sanctuary, and yet, Dirge found that to be untrue. After all, they had taken the likes of him in not once but twice, and both on the cusp of winter to come. If that hadn't seemed like a sanctuary then he may have reconsidered what the word meant, but then again he had never gone looking for a sanctuary to begin with. The world was irrefutably cruel at parts peppered throughout their lives and clearly for some much worse than others.

"There isn't anything wrong with being a sanctuary," he contested loosely, "but there is a line. I'd sooner take in a crippled mother and her children than the likes of a wolf with that thing; the former's less of a threat than the latter and notably more grateful." They would always have the use of able bodies, regardless of relation or ability. Even Nikai had his uses, three legs or not; Charon certainly hadn't seemed to be at fault for one eye, either.

"Either way the less trouble we draw the better." Keep out the collared wolf, keep out the talk of pale faces, and keep out the temptation to let budding hysteria bloom. He gave his head a firm shake as though to dismiss the thoughts that were gathering there. The children didn't need exposed to it—he would hope for them to have a smoother childhood than the collective sum between himself and Arcturus.

Joke's on them though; collared hounds were the least of their worries.

arcturus was silent as dirge spoke, refuting his words — though not ungentle. a quiet lapses around them as arcturus considered both his vision of the mountain, and how it existed in reality.

perhaps arcturus was wrong in his assessment— or perhaps his vision was skewed by his own internal biases and wishes for moonspear to be the irrefutably best.

and perhaps they met somewhere in the middle — accepting of those poor in luck should they be useful. was that not the case with vercingetorix and his kids? maybe you are right. arcturus concurred with a hum, recalling the various souls to pass through their gates. i would hate to see our kindness and resources taken for granted.

"If they do, then we correct it. I can't really see your sister abiding by someone using up resources either—you know she'd chase them out before they got a chance to complain about it happening." A smile flitted across his features; he could see Hydra having that sort of reaction. No time to discuss it, no time to work out a plan, she would enforce and enact something a bit more toothy to get her point across.

"And I'd like to think those individuals have certain tells about them as well. Not that we often get callers at our borders to begin with, but I'm sure you've seen your share turned away," but maybe not; he couldn't attest to how his parents had kept up the borders outside of marking them, nor could he say that he had gone through some rigorous entry questionnaire and visual example test.

No, Hydra had lured him in both times, and his connection to her had bypassed much of that. A measure of worth in a look, he surmised, and seemed like it had been eons ago now. To think his failures at the weald would let him seize the mountain for himself, and seize her too. But he hadn't the time to think about that, as such things were better left for reflection in private.

it was true — hydra had little patience for dead weight. arcturus surmised as much, knowing dirge’s words to be true. any wolf caught squandering its’ good graces in the spear would be swiftly turned out, by show of teeth or else.

he thought of korei julia then, for a reason he did not know. so much of what had transpired between her and the spear was before his time — but the legacy of those actions still rung clear. it made him think of his litter’s “KJ” — would it be yami or revui, or both? both had left of their own volition— yami even refusing to return — both, in his eyes, had turned their back to the mountain. he only hoped he would have the strength to show them the turn of his back, should they ever return. some have surprised me. he answered honestly, conjuring up a shrug of his shoulders. some of our own blood, too.

maybe in the end people were not as predictable or readable as arcturus would like to believe. and maybe no matter what one did to prevent being taken advantage of, maybe those types always found a way in.

His parting statement lingered with Dirge, though it was not one of any particular guilt. Instead it stirred up a mental rummaging once again as he wondered just who Arcturus spoke of. Inevitably a name didn't come to mind, though it should have, and he discarded the thought only to have Yami's name cross his mind. He recalled that vividly in pieces, at least the part where she had shouted something about Charon. The girl was smart, at least at the time, though he wondered if word would ever reach her ears that her father and mother had passed.

He discarded the consideration shortly thereafter.

"Some aren't simply cut out for it," he offered. "I, for one, am not the sort who lingers. I enjoy my freedom, the hunt, and exploration. I've never been one too keen on answering to others," and here came a smile, though it was brief with a pause, "but I would never abandon my children. Nor will I hold it against them if they decide they wish to expand their world." He would encourage it, knowing when that time came they would be prepared.

"Some of my siblings stayed with our mother and the rest of us scattered to the four winds too," he concluded.

dirge’s unrevealing of his inner nature had arcturus promptly investigating his own. he was more like charon than he knew — and found himself inwardly judging those of dirge’s families who had left their home..

yet in that vein, if dirge had not seen fit to put miles under his heels, he would never have come across the spear. he would not have found hydra, courted her, and continued not only charon and amekaze’s legacy, but his own. this left arcturus conflicted; and he realized he could not always view the world in such black and white contrast.

do you miss them? he found himself wondering — his gaze traveling subconsciously to the jagged peaks above where the two most important figures in his life rested. they looked down upon the world from that inhospitable and stern grave, intangible yet ever present — and arcturus hoped wherever lofty realm they were, that they were proud of the man their son was becoming.

Did he miss them?

"I do," was the kneejerk response, perhaps not any less genuine than the other commentary he had made thus far. He did miss them, all of them, even his mother... but it was a different sort of yearning. He felt the absence of Saor and Nyx more keenly for they had traveled with him when they did not need to... but his mother and the other two? It had been a long time since they had crossed his considerations, even when his thoughts were numerous and recollective. He thought best how to sum that up, knowing his words were hanging in the air.

"Some perhaps more than others, I suppose. I came here with two of my sisters, but we've since gone our separate ways." He didn't know if he would ever see Saor again, but the wanderlust and call of the road had spirited her away. Nyx had been another story altogether; how her tale had gone since she had left him only summoned more questions than it did proper answers. He had long settled on the possibility that he would never know what became of them, same as with his sisters and mother, and the overbearing cruel creature he knew as a grandfather—the reason he had set off in the first place.

Wistfully, he exhaled at the shift of their conversation and found composure where it had been stolen away by a far more personal reveal. It had snaked its way out when he had tried for some time to keep such things at bay, and perhaps some things were better left quieted as best he could. He changed the focus: "What about you? I know you hold anger towards your siblings that have left, perhaps rightfully so, but do you ever miss them?"

it soothed arcturus -- perhaps selfishly so -- to learn dirge at least missed some parts of his family. to know the mate his sister had chosen was in some ways a family man sat well with the beta -- for in his eyes, family was everything.

but maybe the spear was dirge's family now. arcturus was not so stupid as to believe blood was the only unifying factor when it came to familial bonds. knowing this subject was rather personal, and required opening oneself up and being vulnerable, arcturus was not too surprised when the topic subtly shifted. he knew he was prying, digging even -- but arcturus only wished to know.

"they have left us." he answered, very indirectly. realizing this answer was not satisfactory, he unveiled a slow sigh and tried again. "they have made their choices. i would have stood by their sides forever, as long as they had stayed with us. but instead they left us -- so maybe i do miss them.. but only the idea of them. maybe i'm holding onto my own ideals of what they should be, and not missing or loving them for who they truly are -- which are abandoners of a family that needed them." arcturus was not afraid to be vulnerable in front of dirge -- a glint briefly shimmered along the rim of his sunny gaze, which had since grown cold. he often tried not to think of how when he had needed his siblings most when his parents had died, they had trounced off into the wilderness without a single care for the shattered lives they left behind. how could arcturus heal from his grief, when those he relied on for support suddenly pulled themselves out from under him? "i needed them, and they were not there. so i've made a family of a different kind instead. you, hydra -- your children -- moriko, nikai."

For a moment, Dirge could not help but wonder what sort of lasting impact his departure made on his own family. It had pained his mother greatly that he felt the necessity to leave, and he had been certain that she understood why, or at least the notion that it would somehow make things easier. But would have they needed him, in some form or fashion that he could not fathom? The answer did not come, at least one to sate his wonder, and he discarded it as Arcturus spoke on.

"Perhaps such is the way of the world," he thought aloud, "and that we may never know their reasoning. It is selfish, but we do not see the world as they do, and the world is far from simple black and white." He thought then of Yami and how she had detested the thought of going home, of coming back to Charon as she had said so poignant and venomous. And of himself, who had gone in spite of protests and pleas.

A pause pressed in, and his ears fanned back on sweeping considerations.

"I would not go back to my own if given the chance," he continued, a resolute darkness settling in his tone. He could wonder after them all he wanted and the same of them, but he knew he would not go even if they would have him. No, he had come too far and had accomplished too much to forfeit it on their behalf. Perhaps his grandfather had been right to try and smother potential—mute ambition was still ambition enough, and how shrewd of Dirge to have capitalized on what had brought him to the station that he now held.

in the moment of silence arcturus too thought of dirge's family -- and how his departure might have changed their lives. yet in the end, is that not what a single life was? a cataclysm of events that caused a network, a web even, of constantly changing, never-in-stasis chaos events?

it led him down a strange corridor of thought; what if dirge had never been born? and what if arcturus had not? how different would the spear be, the lives of his family now non-family?

such thinking was overwhelming; arcturus blinked and shook his head, catching the tail end of dirge's affirmation he would never return. selfishly, arcturus thought this just -- for dirge had made a family here, and in the way of selfish people, arcturus was convinced that he and his family were, well... more important now.

"that may be for the best," he began, the ghost of a smile trailing his lips. "for, we're kind of your family now anyway. you're stuck with us."

He did not need to see the ghostly smile to know it was there—it was that prideful selection of words, the certainty of where he belonged that told him what he did not see. His gaze stayed to the path ahead and he found a mixed bag of emotions regarding it all.

"I suppose that's true too," he rejoined in good faith; best to betray his wonder and doubt of the concept now before it spilt over. Saved for later, he pondered further. "Though I wonder if it's not the other way around and maybe you're simply stuck with me instead."

young as arcturus was, he was not so young to be totally oblivious. he had seen something -- though what it was, he could not say for certain - flash across dirge's countenance. doubt, maybe? he was no seer of inner emotions, and so was left to suss out his suspicions by way of conversation.

"whichever it is, it is." arcturus reiterated, caring not if they were stuck with dirge or dirge was stuck with them - the end was the same either way, wasn't it? so far, dirge had proven he was not an ugly wart to their side. interested to see dirge's reaction to this (as it might have shed light on that turbulence arcturus had briefly glimpsed within dirge) he turned his gaze upon him, though not in any form of challenge. arcturus had decided in that moment maybe it was just disbelief that dirge's life had turned this way, and not anything insidious to be alarmed about. "and the kids are stuck with me, as their clearly favored baby-sitter. speaking of them - any plans on their first big hunt?"

Favored babysitter? Dirge thought it more as favored chew-thing—though fairly, all the adults would have fallen into that category, at least those in danger of getting too close to testing teeth. The shift to hunting dispersed his thoughts, though he held fast to the dark cloud of their grim situation still.

"I was hoping for larger game, but..."

His head tilted one way and then another; it spoke for itself.

"Hydra and I have been discussing replacements. A goat could work, at least to foster better teamwork between them." They were an independent lot, no doubt about it, but he did see their capacity to aid ome another in subtle ways. They learned from one another endlessly, whether any instruction was shared with one or all.

Another thought crossed him, and he wondered aloud: "What was your first? Your mother and father put you up to anything special?" Or perhaps Arcturus was already sinking his teeth into unsuspecting faces at the doorstep at their behest; it would not have surprised him.