Swiftcurrent Creek I know what I like and you're the only one of you

From the coast, Wylla traced the steps she'd taken so many moons ago, arriving a few days later at the creek where she'd birthed her daughter. She wasn't surprised to discover no trace of the pack she once ran with, if it could be called that. She'd taken shelter there and coaxed Tiercel through her earliest days there, but being part of the pack had only been a charade.

She drifted through the trees, following trails that were just the same as they'd been when she left, minus the scents. She was single-minded in her focus with only her ears swiveling to take stock of her surroundings; her eyes were fixed on some point in the distance, which turned out to be a small den in a rotting tree.

This she stuck her head into and sniffed deeply; she could almost swear she could smell the mingled scents of her and her newborn daughter, but that too was only a memory. A moment in time.

Tags for reference, in case anyone wants to notice she's not at UG atm.

It was stupid for her to travel away from the pack without at least alerting @Kavik or @Bhediya, but that's exactly what she did. She'd spoken briefly with Awol about his own adventuring and had thoughts of Easthollow on the mind, plus Ibis was eager to stretch her legs, to see the world outside of the small forest-home before the snow got too thick. Her need to wander won against her common sense; she had not been a leader for very long and had never been one before, and so she did not even think, she just went. It wouldn't be a long journey, she mused—just a day trip and she'd be home again to the Emberwood.

And yet, the young woman's doe-like strides took her further by the moment. She found the tail of the creek and thought of Star; remembering, as she followed carefully alongside the water's flow, that this had once been the home to the woman's pack, and to Kavik's, although it remained empty. The falling snow churned in the air. There was a blanket of white on everything, and even the creek looked sluggish with ice—but for all of that it was more beautiful to her. So quiet and peaceful.

Soon enough Ibis was roaming the territory without knowing where she was going. She investigated a few paths only to find them choked with hard-packed snow; others had fallen trees frozen in place since the autumn, their exposed roots producing small hovels which themselves were full of snow, or streaked heavily with brown where the roots prevented the substance from falling. And as she went she caught the scent of a wolf, but wasn't quite sure where it came from; she paused to look around, and noticed after a lengthy few moments that one of the dark patches was moving. Intrigued, she moved closer—and noticed the dark shape of the wolf's haunches terminate where their front end entered the earth.

As she didn't want to disturb the stranger, she wouldn't say anything. Perhaps this was yet another ghost from Swiftcurrent's past, and what right did Ibis have to interrupt their visit?

She could've climbed into the rotting stump and curled up, reliving memories that were long past and not altogether pleasant, but was coaxed out by two things.

Firstly, the unexpected sting of tears in her eyes. She'd never been an overly emotional beast but something about her daughter had changed that in her. Not outwardly—she'd been hard on Tiercel throughout her life and had made many, many mistakes where raising her was concerned—but on the inside, there was a soft spot where her daughter's face and scent lingered. It was truly her Achilles heel and reminders of her were always tainted with loneliness.

Secondly, the feeling of eyes on her backside. It took her several long moments to realize she was being watched, and when she did, she whipped up and out of the den. She half expected to find Tiercel smirking at her when she spun around—of course her prodigal daughter would return to her birthplace, who wouldn't—but it was a cream-and-grey female watching her, not the sharp black features of her child.

Wylla's demeanour went from open to closed in a flash, eyes turning flinty as they roved over Ibis' unfamiliar figure. Why are you staring at my ass? she demanded with a snort.

And just like that, whatever patience Ibis had tried to utilize was nuked; the woman withdrew from the den and turned upon her with a spiteful glower, sharp words, and immediately Ibis felt out-of-place, belittled. Had she any sense at all, she would have turned and abandoned whatever urge had caused her to linger; this woman was swift to dismiss whatever emotion had pooled in her eyes, becoming more like a patch of dangerous black ice while Ibis watched—and then with a stutter not befitting a leader prowling through the wilderness, she simpered and drew a step back.

I'm — I didn't mean — There was enough distance between the two of them that Ibis wasn't afraid of being harmed, and truthfully she did not think that to be an option, except something revolting sprung to life in the stranger's harsh gaze and it made Ibis' skin crawl. She was accustomed to finding goodness in others, but to find this — whatever it was — made her all the more perplexed, which played out across her face. I wasn't um -- staring, she shakes her head frantically, I just didn't want to startle you, um... I'm sorry, do you live here?

Ibis felt like she'd interrupted something; she wasn't aware of how personal the area was for the stranger of course, but was intrigued, and that youthful curiosity rivalled her revulsion. It was a stupid question born in haste; Ibis knew that this place wasn't home to anyone anymore, that it was ruined by the quakes, abandoned by Kavik and his people—but she forgot all about that when put on the spot.

Wylla realized all at once that Cerulean wasn't much older than Tiercel, and that she was in the wrong for being so surly about the other's appearance. This was no man's land now, but it was also her daughter's birthplace and she felt very much like the cream she-wolf was intruding. So although she knew she was being kind of a jerk, she remained as she was, with her stare pinned coldly on the other's face and her hackles half-raised. Cerulean's spluttering did little to ease the tension. In fact, it only made it worse.

Spit it out, she groused, glaring across the space the way Wylla always glared at other women. Did she have a single woman in her life whom she didn't shoot vitriol at? It was something competitive, something in her blood, and she hadn't had any sisters growing up to temper that in her. Cerulean did indeed spit it out and when she did, Wylla snorted again and canted her dark ears to her rear. This shithole? No. I have no home. What's it to you?

Not without Tiercel, anyway. Nowhere would ever feel truly like home without her.

The older woman was rough, much more antagonistic than anyone Ibis had ever met before, so she didn't know how to respond exactly. The natural reaction was to curl her tail and try to make herself smaller. She tried to stay attentive (but with her gaze deviating from the stranger in case any direct eye-contact caused further strife) she responded to the various questions: I live in the Emberwood nearby and there's a man living there who was once the leader of a pack here, at this creek. Ibis could've made it clearer if she'd stated Kavik's name but something about this entire conversation had her on-edge, and she wasn't comfortable with sharing such details right this second. The way that this woman had been investigating... She was probably hungry, not trying to find signs of the old claim.

If you are looking for a home... I could show you the way. But as soon as she made this offer Ibis was certain that the other wolf wouldn't go for it; they didn't seem particularly interested in her company and had much more attitude than what Ibis was accustomed to from an Emberwood wolf; they likely wouldn't be a good fit. It was worth it to offer, anyway.

Wylla would never admit it, but Cerulean was a breath of fresh air after months with only her sarcastic dam and daughter for company. She launched directly into a seeming-unrelated tangent only to mention that whoever she was talking about once led the pack here. The mention of Swiftcurrent Creek's former pack sent a queer, fluttering feeling through Wylla's belly that deepened her frown.

It wasn't that she missed them. She missed precious few wolves, her brothers among them in spite of Lycaon's betrayal. It just felt weird to think of them and realize she hadn't spared many thoughts at all for their well-being in the interim. You mean Constantine? she asked, grimacing. She'd respected that man, once. She hadn't really lost her respect for him, either, but she'd left Swiftcurrent Creek for a number of reasons.

He wasn't a very attentive leader, being high among them. Better than his mate, though. Not a bad guy, but Swiftcurrent Creek was doomed the moment that the pair of them spent more time arguing or being moody than actually leading. In light of this judgment, she had to laugh, a high and largely mirthless chirrup, when Ibis offered her a home. Kid, she said, because it was a natural thing for Wylla to consider anyone younger than her a child, you don't know me at all, and I don't know you. I don't make a habit of going home with strangers. Her gaze cut across the cream she-wolf judgmentally, then came to rest on a point between her ears. You ought to learn that lesson quick, before someone takes your pretty little ass home with poor intentions.

You mean Constantine? The older woman offered, which was met by a slack-jawed Ibis. That wasn't a name she knew - but she would bring it to Kavik, see if it meant anything to the supposed ex-leader. A flare of doubt touched upon her heart in that moment; she had no reason to think Kavik would be duplicitous, and he had proven to be of great use to the Emberwood wolves, but... Who was this other person?

Before Ibis could say anything, the woman was countering her offer. She was crude, and it unsettled her the more she listened. At the same time though, Ibis found herself compelled to listen and take heed of the advice. It didn't align with her own experience of the world but the other woman was older, had likely been through a lot to make her believe in the negativity she spouted. Ibis felt a sense of pity, almost - or maybe that was pure empathy, wishing she could do something to make the woman change her mind. She should learn that people don't need to be fixed - nor would they all want her to try - but she cannot help it.

Well, if you change your mind - or if you ever need help, or... Ibis doesn't quite know what to say, anticipating further refusal no matter what. The offer stands. I like to believe in the good in people - and I have the support of many others to keep my ass safe. A little smirk slides across her face as she curses, feeling very much out of her element as the phrase drops from her lips.

There was no confirmation that Constantine was even who Cerulean was talking about, but Wylla didn't need it. She'd already made the assumption and decided she didn't much care if she saw him again or not. She might've respected him, but that didn't necessarily mean the same as liking him.

And then she laughed again, this time a whole-hearted guffaw, because there was nothing more precious in life than watching some kind-hearted, well-meaning sprite like Ibis trying to sound serious while swearing. It wasn't even that she was young. Her age wasn't that noteworthy. It was that she seemed naive and empathetic and compassionate and it sounded just plain wrong when vulgar language crossed the lips of such delicate creatures. She didn't bother to clarify what she found so funny, leaving it up to Cerulean whether to feel offended or not by it all.

I never need help, she confidently replied when the laughter died. It was mostly true. Not as true as Wylla would've liked, but she preferred to believe she was solely in charge of everything that happened to her, and that was helped along with a healthy dose of suspicion. But thanks, anyway. Keep that spirit, hope no one fucks it up for you. Someone would definitely fuck it up for her. Ciao, Wylla said, chuckling still at the way the word "ass" had sounded coming from Cerulean.

The uproar of laughter caught Ibis off-guard but it was a good sound, one she missed. It had been many days since she had felt like laughing, and at least a season since anyone around her had the good spirit to do so; the famine had stripped more than muscle away from the wolves in this valley. It did indeed surprise her and Ibis found herself smirking before she could stop herself, with the expression fading as soon as the woman began to speak again - expressing her confidence, her power, which Ibis envied.

I never need help, said the woman prior to giving thanks, not that Ibis deserved any thanks. She wasn't discerning with who she offered the forest to, which was something she would need to revise in the coming days (considering a dead body would be found upon their lands soon enough). Ciao -- said the woman as she departed, having not shared her name.

Ibis opened her mouth to ask for it before they could escape, but her tongue was tied. She watched as the dark shape shrank away from her, and wondered if one day she could be as self-assured as this lone stranger. They had been abrasive but also impressive, aspects that Ibis wished she could cultivate within herself -- but she was a mere girl, and a foolish one at that. Perhaps one day she would have the confidence to lead without a counsel of her peers; that was the dream.

Without a word she withdrew, seeking out a route home.