Neverwinter Forest and i wondered for those i love still

vague about injury status

they'd taken him in. he was back in neverwinter forest. and while it wasn't the willows—nothing ever would be—this place was, perhaps, the next-best thing. comforting. familiar.

still recovering from his injuries, cam did a lot of resting, these past few days. resting and watching. he observed everything that could be recorded, seeing how things moved, how things breathed in these woods. it had a life to itself, and there was life within it. not much, as the weather grew colder. . .but still, something.

the birds who hadn't gone south. they pecked at the trees, looking for wayward insects.

an occasional squirrel, racing through the woods. he loathed not being able to chase it down, but then, he wouldn't want to eat it, anyway. could bring it as a snack for mal, a thank you for saving his life. (as if he had the swiftness to catch one!)

sometimes, he heard the soft rush of water, like a stream. perhaps it was imagined, or only the wind. he fantasized about fish and fishing, dipping his nose in a cool creek. when he was stronger, he'd explore.

for now, he watched and waited, often solitary, often stationary. it was fine with him—at least for the time being.

Ever one to wander, Belharra didn't stay in one place for long. It was one of the many things her father had both admired and loathed in her; her forays from home would call to mind his own wayfaring days, which all ended on the Island. 

Belharra was thinking of a full belly, not her father, as she passed through a forest that was dense and deep. The Island had been cold and rocky, and forests of Neverwinter's ilk nonexistent. Admiring the thick boughs as she did, Belharra nearly came face to face with a boy reclining in the fen. Pulling the stops out, giving him a once over and noticing the wound to his hips, Belharra lifted her hazel gaze to his in inquiry, but not concern. The cut looked fresh and not at all from a wolfs fangs. Catch some trouble, mate?

Sorry for the phone post but couldn't wait. XD

Mal was looking for Cam. He hadn't brought anything with him since the caches were still thin, but he didn't mind making a second trip to retrieve something for the kid if he needed it. Mal wasn't sure they were going to be able to properly fill them until the deer returned. Whenever that was. He'd come from a deeper part of the territory, not the borders so he didn't think anything was wrong -- until he heard an unfamiliar voice up ahead.

He took off like a shot, no stealth, just speed and bristling fur. Smaller branches best get out of his way because Mal was done dealing with wolves whose noses were broken.  There was no excuse now -- there were (at least) five wolves, that was enough for a pack, surely -- so he wasn't going to play too nice, especially when the first thought to his mind was maybe it was Moonspear coming to finish  Cam off. Even before he had been meticulous about the borders, now there were wolves helping. 

He spotted the unfamiliar dark wolf, and snarled as he closed the distance, diving between Cam and the stranger and taking a couple of lunging steps towards her, but no more. Yet. With a growl at her, Get out of my territory.  Okay, she got one warning. And a slight tilt if his head to barely get some of Cam in his periphery though he didn't move his gaze from the trespasser, speaking to the boy in a more normal (but still on edge) voice, Didnt get to you, right?

the dark form that emerged from the trees sent immediate him into an immediate state of bristling, cowering alarm. all he could see was red; all he could feel was teeth; he smelled his piss and fear and the pines of the mountain all at once. cam shrunk into himself, peering at the newcomer with wary emerald eyes.

for she was a newcomer: she didn't smell like the woods, and certainly not like mal or the others he'd met. she was not one of those who'd attacked him, but he was still speechless, unable to answer her question. his lower jaw hinged open, moving slightly without sound.

thankfully, mal arrived relatively quickly.

didn't get to you, right? cam silently shook his head, gaze dancing between the mottled young man and the stranger. she hadn't caused him any harm—but why was she here? what was she doing?

The boy was terrified of her. Figures. Hardly any surprise - she was an impressive figure, no?

Belharra stepped back, giving Cam the space his dancing gaze indicated he needed. He looked stricken. Not just by teeth or whatever, either, but by her. Belharra was about to offer some sort of soft word or a croon to steady him when she heard somewhere behind her the crashing of what was either a boulder, or a very angry wolf.

"Hold tight. Someone's coming." She shared a wink with the boy and then turned around, just in time to come face to face with a bristling and overkeyed yearling who spared her no courtesy, whatsoever. Blinking rather slowly, Belharra straightened herself and looked around her pointedly. My territory, he had said.. yet last Belharra checked, neutral land belonged to no one.

Heck, she had half a mind to show him how asinine that claim was just by spitting the same back. Anyone could claim they owned a forest, why, they could even say they owned the patch of dirt they stood upon, or a tree or even a patch of ferns... If Belharra had learned anything from her mother (and she had learned plenty, mostly bad, mind) it was that ya ain't owned anything unless you could cram it down your gullet hole yourself.

So Belharra looked around her cool as a cuke, and then to the wolf who stood before her more ornery than a bison cow separated from her calf by rushwater. It wasn't in her nature to be downright disrespectful to good folk, but there was a kid here blatantly hurt, and this guy was more concerned about his forest - some good folk, she guessed. "Whoa, steady there champ." Belharra eased into her strategist (strategy: set everything aflame) role with the practiced skill of someone who had spent many a moonlit night mediating for scraps: "Your forest? Does neutral land mean somethin' different to ya? You know this kiddo behind ya is hurt, right? I was gonna help him, before you came along prissy as a stormcloud. He'll need honey - you got that in your forest? In a pinch some sort of tar -" Belharra looked around and surmised that pitch or tar was had here in spades, given the amount of firs here. She begun to walk away from the two of them, looking for any sort of fir that was profusely leaking sap. "or pitch and the like, will do. Binds up the cut nice-like, if you please. Say, never got your name or what exactly your forest is called. Mine's Belharra." Here a grin spread wide across her features, accompanied by something a little less friendy - a hard glint in her eyes that said she was in no mood to bicker over who owned what in a clearly neutral territory. Anyway, there was a kid involved. Belharra wasn't so cruel as to ignore a kid who needed some sort of medical attention.

Good.  He'd probably gotten here just in time.  Mal had certainly thought that this deep into the forest, Cam would have been entirely safe but here was this weirdo proving him wrong.

What the hell was with this chick?  She needed to be removed from the territory, stat.  He lifted his head (while she was talking, 'cause let's be honest, he didn't care what she had to say) and gave a short howl of, 'Intruder!' to see if the others were also in this part of the territory.  If Cam wasn't here, he'd have gone to take a chunk out of her already but he didn't want the chance that she had some friend lurking about to go after him once Mal moved to chase her off.  He needed someone else here and then one of them could go punch a couple of well-deserved holes in this utterly oblivious chatter-mouth.

Seriously. There seemed to be way too many wolves out there missing a key sense.  Mal had marked the borders of the forest, they were patrolled by several... There shouldn't be any question any more and yet still people tried to test him.  Good thing winter was coming -- all these nose-blind fools were probably gonna die.  It wasn't like they'd be able to hunt small things very well, and good luck spotting a vole under the snow with your eyes if the deer stayed gone.  Mal's tone had turned venomous, growl unending as he took another stiff step forward, tail arcing stiffly upward, ears forward. It's not neutral, get your nose checked.  He's being treated and sure as hell not by you.  Last warning, get out, keep walking that way, and you won't have to heal yourself.  He would protect his packmates from whatever this apparently demented woman wanted, because if she was this stubborn, it couldn't be good.  Anyone reasonable would have said oops and left before making a fool of themselves.  Tick tock.

@Simmik @Ceilidh @Markus if any of you wanna come play too XD

Markus responded to the call as if he had been physically snatched and yanked in its direction. The compulsion to come when called, to be there when needed, was never stronger than when it was Mal who called him - and it was his voice in the air. 

Markus arrived on scene in the direction the intruder now walked, saying something about tar. He blocked her further descent into Neverwinter with cold eyes and bristling neck fur. Markus was a fairly patient being but even he was getting ridiculously tired of all these people who did not belong here pressing and breaking their borders. It was beginning to become almost a parody but Markus was not laughing. His gaze shifted to Mal and that weird twist in his guts that he was starting to associate with his young leader fluttered through his stomach. Cam was there, too - sweet, injured Cam. He refocused on the female and found, to his surprise, that the fluttery feeling intensified his anger. His nose wrinkled a bit and he took a step forward.

"Get out. You have no reason to be here. Leave - or you'll be removed." His voice was cold and left no room for diplomacy or negotiation. His leader had called - Mal, had called - and his wounded packmate lay barely recovered from a previous assault only feet behind this intruder. There was no room to be diplomatic today.  Markus wasnt a fighter but if he had to...he would make sure she moved on.

she pretended that she knew him. or at least was friendly with him. cam was utterly perplexed as she refused to leave, instead ignoring mal's threats and his howl and going on about. . . tar? he asked aloud, barely a whisper— her name was belharra, apparently—

and here came markus, now, backing up mal. the two of them rounded on her, their pelts bristling. and though they had spoken words, he couldn't help but—

oh, god, they were here again. he saw them, the shadows (or was that only the shadows between the trees?)—but he swore he could see their eyes and teeth and big, burly frames.

they were here and they were here to kill.

stop, cam moaned, curling into a tight, quivering ball like a frightened hedgehog. stop it. leave me alone.

he just wanted it all to stop. he just wanted peace and quiet.

Instead of hearing her out, Mal interrupted immediately with a howl for back-up. Cute. For someone pretending to be a leader, Belharra didn't see many leadership qualities in Mal. Her eyes flashed in response, but instead of a bite, Belharra only smiled. If that was how he wanted to set up the deck, fine. 

At the end of the day whether Mal wanted to be delusional or not, Belharra was provincially right; this was neutral land. Mal's insistence otherwise wasn't going to change her mind. In fact her nose worked just fine, and a handful of wolves did not a pack make. The way she had come in, she hadn't scented anything up until Cam. That, simply, was the truth of her narrative. "If that's how you'd like to play it.. but I'm better served as your healer, not your enemy. You don't have the numbers for a pack. You got one or two wolves and a hurt kid. So forgive my nose, for not bein' psychic. To be rude about it when this is neutral land is no way to make followers. I suspect that doesn't do favors to your likability, which may be linked to your lack of a thorough following." She gave a shrug, careless to the sharpness of her tongue. Wasn't really her fault Mal was being aggressive instead of dealing with the real priority, which was his sick follower. Her gaze slid to Cam, who now was clearly a victim of fever. He was seeing things that weren't there, a classic symptom that she could have fixed, easily too.  Soon infection would take over his body. And then who knows? Survival was never a guarantee in the wilds. "He's very ill. Fever, likely. Pity he will suffer on account of your pride." Belharra tsked and shook her head, disappointed. It was really too bad Mal had his head screwed on wrong, because Belharra could have been an asset. Maybe then he'd have the numbers for pack he was claiming he had. 

His loss. 

Another arrived at the tail end of Belharra's speech. She gave him a disarming smile, already putting enough distance between them so that she could not be struck. "Oh, I had reason to be here. It's neutral land, and I was gonna see about helping this kid.. but, the chief says otherwise. I'll be on my way, now." Belharra wasn't in the least intimidated by either, but she found letting people believe they had won was how you first got their guard down. Enemies were always much easier strike when they thought you were no longer a threatening piece in their game.

She would play pawn, and make her way to the corner. Her ear was kept turned as she walked, waiting for one of them to chase. When Belharra came back to Neverwinter, she would not come to heal.

She felt bad for the kid, though. He looked in rough sorts. It was a shame, a crying shame. Belharra would have to take her bleeding heart elsewhere.