Whitebark Stream the less of it I need the more I get

it is the matter of caches she concerns herself with today. their numbers grow steadily, to her satisfaction, and their borders have been carved out. there remain a few things to see to yet; chief among them is a central cache. it needs to be protected, from natural and physical threats alike, near the heart of the central territories. 

she has settled on a small glade, nestled near to the place where the river diverges in the heart of the territory. it is a natural divot, bordered heavily on one side by a line of firs. it is beneath these that she seeks to carve out the central cache. she considers a moment, before calling into the late-morning breeze for companionship—another set of paws will make the task easier.

@Dawn I adopted this one instead lol

With the breeze came a chill, one that was biting as it nipped at his pale features. Artyom squinted his eyes against the cold and ducked his head as he trudged through the Whitebark's open territory toward the trees.

The rise of a familiar voice captured his attention and, at once, he quickened his pace through the foliage to seek her ashen form. He sent forth a friendly bark when he caught sight of her, and moved in to greet her with a fond smile. "Dawn," he said, "you are well, да?"

her call is not met long with silence; footfalls herald the arrival of another soon enough. muzzle curves into a smile when it is Artyom that crests the small hill, pausing her inspection of the ground beneath the firs. "artyom," she greets in turn, tail wafting. a simple nod of her head in an affirmative, and echoed back, "and you? how are you taking to the stream?" she queries, dipping to tug an errant pine needly from a forelimb. 

gesturing at the soft earth beneath the firs, she explains, "I want to start a cache here. will you help me?" without doubt it is why he'd answered her call, though she asks all the same.

From Dawn channelled warmth, and she welcomed him to her by returning his smile with one of her own. "I am, and managing well enough," he said in response, having enjoyed their wander through what was to become a home to him the day prior. Following this he had mostly took the time to hunt and rest, but he was ready to make himself useful.

She presented a job: to assist in the building of a cache that would act as a store for the pack's leftovers. Artyom's chocolate eyes drifted to the earth beneath her feet and then briefly glanced up at her before tentatively stepping closer - hopeful that she would not feel as though he was deliberately attempting to invade her personal space.

"Of course. You have chosen a good spot," he observed, after a quick scrape of the soil confirmed that it wasn't frozen. "Shall we begin?"

he appears content, to her satisfaction. "good," she replied, shifting her attention back to the task at hand again when he agreed, stepping near; a simple fact she finds she does not mind. 

"it should be well protected here," she agrees, eyeing the firs. a natural barrier, even if the needles might be a nuisance. she nods, motioning to the section she's chosen. "it doesn't need to be deep; a shallow cavity here that extends a little into the incline," she instructs, motioning as she does. 

she steps forward to begin working at the earth; cool and difficult but not impossible to evacuate. "you said you'd passed through here, before—where had you settled?" she asks, curious as to which regions he's familiar with.

Artyom listened quietly to what she had to say, nodding along in agreement as she explained her thoughts for their intended cache. His silence maintained, the pale-furred wolf stepped aside to give enough room that would allow her to begin; "ladies first" his playful grin and suggestive glance toward her seemed to say, though it was barely a moment before he followed her lead.

"I lived in Lost Creek Hollow," he answered simply, "led by a wolf named Terance and his mate, Arbiter." He did feel some level of remorse for the way in which he'd vanished, especially after the Dokuga wolfess had entrusted him with the information that their friends had abandoned them - Artyom could only hope that they did not harbour bitterness in their hearts for his own disappearance, which happened under very different circumstances. "I could not find them on my return."

she huffs teasingly at his invitation to go first, feigning offense even while her tail wafts behind her. she pauses, shifting slightly to the right where the earth is softer, and starts again. 

"I know the place," she tells him, "I lived there for a few weeks; a man called rannoch led it then." she wonders what happened to him, and considers probing for information about her old friend, but finds herself more interested in the man at her side. "last I heard, they'd disbanded and moved to a nearby territory," she offers, remembering the man she'd met by the bypass. "where did you go, after the quakes?" was there any place that had escaped that great thundering of the earth?

He paused too, at her mention of knowing the Lost Creek territory - and shared that she even lived there for a time, under different leadership. At once his thoughts turned to a particular conversation with Arbiter about her comrades who saw fit to relocate and leave them behind.

"I recall being told that the pack's founders relocated in the Summertime," he shared, his cheerful expression having been replaced by something more solemn. Artyom recalled his mixed feelings on the matter, but supported his leaders nonetheless. He proceeded to dig at the ground again, "I believe their intention was to leave the others behind."

It was a sad end to a friendship, but he knew well how cruel life could be. Ana's death had been a tragic accident that brought him to his knees, yet he'd never felt bitterness toward the world for such a loss. It was not fair to compare losses when his was so very different to that of his firmer leaders, he knew, and simply hoped that they could heal in order to move on from it.

Anyway, onto lighter conversation: "I went North, drifted with no real destination in mind." Artyom, content with his groundwork so far, withdrew for a moment to examine before he sought Dawn's face once more with an amused smile. "You know a considerable amount about me," he commented, "and I know next to nothing about you. How about we take turns asking questions, hm?"

he deigns to answer the last question, something she wonders at but respects, probing no further. he instead elaborates on Rannoch, something that earns a contemplative hum from the hunter. "odd. he'd always seemed so dedicated to his pack," she comments. but she has no desire to delve into a topic she knows very little about, and so moves on from the topic of the once-leader. 

his comment brings a grin to her face, and she pauses in her efforts to dislodge a rather bothersome stone from the earth. already, she's managed to cover her forelimbs and her muzzle in cold earth. "you're right—we'll have to rectify that immediately," she answers lightly, teasing glint in her gaze. "what would you like to know?" she asks, attempting then to expose the stone further, though her attention remains predominantly on her companion

He liked her. He really did. In the very short time since they'd met, Artyom had come to appreciate her easy going nature and ability to ease him out of the beginnings of awkwardness. Dawn shot him a most contagious grin at his suggestion and behind him, his dense tail twitched to life in response.

"Well," he hummed to himself, shifting to aid his companion in dislodging a rock she appeared to find some difficulty with. From his angle, he managed to hook it free with his much larger muddied paw, and sent it tumbling into the hole they'd created. "were you born near here?"

together, they move to dislodge the thing. she steps smartly out of the way when it tumbles down, satisfaction etched for a moment across her features as it comes to a rest. his question is a simple one, that she would answer just as simply, but she looks to respect the trust he's put in her by offering him more than a single place. "I was born in Easthollow, by the Stone Circle. it was just my brother, Sunny, my father and I." she pauses, working further to reveal a thickened root she decides not to bother with. "we left when I was only a few months old, and started a close-knit pack called Morningside—my father led, and trained me to do the same, and so there I grew up. we moved often, but it suited me." she is fond of their easy conversation; it has been a long while since she's been able to speak so freely with someone. it is her turn then, she supposes, and she fires his question back at him. "how about you?"

Easthollow was a familiar place for him, though only by name. Artyom could recall the pallid she-wolf who he crossed paths with on neutral turf and how she claimed to run with a pack by that name, though he could not remember what she called herself. He supposed it was likely irrelevant to mention this encounter, considering the insight Dawn shared to her nomadic lifestyle.

"Timiryazevskaya," he answered smoothly as his companion bounced his question right back at him. He took a second to eye her sideways, playfully, curious how she might react to such an unusual name. "It was founded by my great grandparents, then led by their daughter and her mate following their retirement. Their eldest son - my father - adopted the role when his time came to lead, and... as the only pup of my parents' first litter, I was groomed to follow in his footsteps."

It occurred to Artyom then, that he'd never really shared much of himself with anyone. It wasn't that he'd closed down that chapter of his life, it was more so because no one had ever asked. "An... incident, drove me to rethink my future role, and I chose to disperse." He looked down at the disturbed ground before them, contemplative as he thought fondly (and sadly) of the partner he'd lost. Artyom tried to mask the dull sorrow by assuming his dig as he attempted to move on from sensitive subjects: "what is your vision for Whitebark Stream, Dawn? I am keen to know what you wish to accomplish here."

she blinks at the name he throws her way, said with a self-assured smoothness that almost disguises the difficulty of it. "tirma—tirmiraskam," she tries, sheepish grin curving her muzzle at her obvious failure. his story is not all that different from her own, really; she'd had enough incidents to know the doubt, aimlessness, that comes often as a result. 

he asks her a question she's been ruminating on, then, and she has to gather her thoughts only a moment before answering. "a fresh start, for one—my blood-family has endured great loss, and for them and any others that come here, I want to create a new beginning. a family, too; the wolves of morningside were as much my family as my father and his children; I will seek to recreate that trust and closeness here." a pause, then, and she reveals to him what she had to Valette. "and I want to reclaim who I once was; a leader, a mother." she is jolted slightly when her paw catches on a root; she hooks it further around and tugs until the narrow thing snaps. as he had, she focuses on the simple task for a moment, refocusing her attention from the past. 

"what do you want to do, art — who do you want to be?" she asks. an old friend had asked her something similar, once, when she'd been very young, and she remembers her answer still. it it okay, not to know? she will not fault him if he does not, but is interested to know what makes up the male at her side; his goals, dreams and all such things beside.

Artyom laughed at her attempt at saying the name of his birth pack, though not unkindly. He considered speaking it again, slower to allow her another try, but decided against it - Dawn seemed like the sort of she-wolf who could appreciate a challenge, so he was content to let her practice if she so wished.

Dawn did not break the unwritten rule of the game they'd found themselves engaged in to pry following his vague reasoning behind the decision made to depart his home, for which he was thankful. Her answer to his question came, and her primary hope was something Artyom felt he could relate to. As was the driving force behind her decision to start over, he supposed: grief was a powerful thing, and could break even the strongest of spirits. A new place and new faces, serving as a reliable distraction or salve to emotion wounds, he'd learned.

What he did not expect was her admission of seeking to become a mother, along with the suggestion that she had reared offspring once before. Wide-eyed, he made to exchange a sorrowful glance with her, only to find her bronze gaze already cast downward.

He wanted to ask where where children were, why she felt a distance from them made her any less of a mother. Reach out to her, perhaps, in effort to comfort her. It was not his place to do so and he wasn't sure how she would even react to physical contact, however, and so he too turned focus to their intended cache while he gathered his thoughts. It was kinder to respect her, Artyom felt - let her communicate more on the matter in her own time, only if she wanted to.

"I want to be important," he answered her question without much thought, then paused to elaborate. "Not in a sense of holding title or land, but... to someone." That was what he missed most: companionship. Having someone look at him with the same glimmer of adoration in her eye as Ana did before she was lost to him. Artyom could never forget the she-wolf who first taught him to love, but he yearned to find the one who would show him how to do so again after he feared he'd lost everything.

There was a discomfort to admit his simple desires, some small vulnerability, but no shame. Dawn had shared hers so it felt only fair to answer her question honestly.

she focuses on a harder patch of earth, shifting until she'd found the best angle of attack. she paused only when her companion begun to speak, peering back at him as she smears a paw over her muzzle in an attempt to remove a pesky needle, successful only in smearing the half of it with earth.

he is vague, at first, there comes a flicker of confusion that fades when he elaborates. she thinks on it, a moment; to be important. later, when she'd been a yearling, perhaps, her answer to the same question would have been clearer. to be a great hunter, a leader, so see the furthest reaches of the wilds. "important," she echoes softly, mind turning. was that how aditya had made her feel? in the beginning, yes, but in the end—that man in the grove had made her feel important, despite the shame it brought. 

"it is a valuable thing to be," she muses, gaze settled on him perhaps a moment too long. with a blink, and a small curve of her muzzle, she resumes her digging. "you forgot your question," she reminds him, glancing over to him again as she uncovers yet another root.

His smile returned, primarily for her, though it didn't quite reach his eyes - not like before. More than anything, Artyom longed for the connection that came with partnership. It had never been in his nature to stray, never once tempted on his travels by the perfume of breeding season. Those scents drew him in, instinctively, but he practiced his control remarkably well.

No, a one-night-stand, brief fling or "friend with benefits" was not what he wanted. Artyom had a lot of love to give in return for that of another, and knew right at the heart of him that his loyalty could be strong for the right she-wolf. Claws dragged dirt from their hollow as he pondered this, though Dawn's voice drew him from diving too deep into his wanderings.

An ear pricked toward her. He knew exactly what he wished to ask: are you, or have you ever been, in love? At once the alarm bells in his head rung, reminding him how forward and foolish it would be to ask such a delicate question, so he tucked that one away. "Ah," a hint of a laugh then, "sorry. How about... where is your favourite place to be? Not just here, but anywhere in this world that you have seen."

"the plateau," her answer comes without hesitation, though she pauses a moment to tug at a stone with her jaws, sending it tumbling down into the hole. she motions over her shoulders at where those distance mountains stand; hidden now by clouds and the angle of the trees. "blacktail deer plateau. it's on the other side of those mountains. morningside lived there for a time, it was where my family was happiest." her gaze stays on the horizon a moment longer, before turning back to artyom. 

stepping back, she moves to observe the hole they've dug. it's wide, carved somewhat into the incline and should be deep enough. she hums a note as she considers, and turns to him. "I think it's done. what do you think?" she considers making in larger, if only to spend more time here with him, but chides herself for it. she still needs to patrol, find minnow and valiant, check on sunny—it'd be selfish, she thinks, to suggest it.

Blacktail Deer Plateau, Dawn said, where she'd found her greatest happiness. He liked her answer, found himself fond of the warmth in her voice that accompanied the memory, and felt glad to have encouraged it from her. 

She did not pipe up in another question for him, easing the topic toward the task of preparing Whitebark's first cache. Artyom did not pry for another, as it seemed her final answer was a good note to end the game. Content to return to business, he replied: "I agree. I believe we should be awarded the title of best digging team in all of Whitebark! " Carefully, he stepped into the crevice with a single muddied paw to reach for a final loose stone with the other, scooping it out of the hollow and closer to him. "Better," he concluded, seeking her face with curious brown eyes in expectation of her next instruction.

she grins, reminded of an early conversation with Kora. "they should throw us a parade," she suggests teasingly, tail wagging as she watched him adjust a stone. she laughs, low and easy. "no—perfect." it is a rather fine whole they've dug, though it'll be even more appealing when stocked with leftovers. 

she sighs, then, admitting, "I should go find my niece. she's been distant; I'm a little worried about her." the girl hadn't had all that much choice in coming here, nor did she seem especially find of new adventures; perhaps a side-effect of a tumultuous childhood. 

"could you help spread the word about this?" she asks, gesturing to the cache. the faster the others know about a centralized cache, the better. "and thanks, art—I'm glad I got to know you better." her features soften a moment as she meets his gaze, and then a grin is back on her face and she bumps her shoulder against his in easy farewell. with that, she's off; she'll check the place she'd last seen minnow, first.

They laughed together, having swiftly and easily managed to steer their chat in a lighthearted direction again. His golden tail beat merrily behind him, though stilled as she proceeded with a farewell that almost seemed reluctant. Part of him was loathe to let her go, so strong was his desire to learn more of what made her her, but he understood that she had responsibility elsewhere.

"I suppose a relocation might be a hard adjustment for some," he observed softly, words weighted with sympathy for a girl he assumed to be young and perhaps lacking her family's motivation to disperse from their home to start anew - especially if she'd solidified strong bonds with former packmates. "I'm sure your company will be well-met, Dawn."

He nodded gently at her request to share their latest development among their packmates, one that would go in his favour. There were many others to acquaint himself with, so he was determined to make a good impression. 

Artyom lifted his gaze, anod found that she sought it with her own. It is the first time he'd really met her stare, so accustomed was he to preventing such a gesture out of respect for superiors, but he managed to hold it for a shor time - even as she shifted to bump against his shoulder in a friendly farewell. "Enjoy what remains of your day," he called after her, and watched until she vanished from sight before turning and seeking a private place to groom his dirtied furs.