Whitebark Stream gold

the huntress steps lightly over the rock lining the riverbank. snow drapes easily over both banks, undisturbed, and ice creeps over the current from both banks. the entire scene is infused with a rosy hue; above, the clouds have dissipated just in time for the sun to set. the Maplewood to the west; how dearly she knew and loved that place. prey would be plentiful, here, and as far as she knew, no others had settled in the vicinity. 

she pauses, watching a bird wing across the sky. swift and fast and gone, and then she is alone again. but not for long; the once-leader, once-mother, will make this place their own. she knows it clearly then.

Daylily shivered in the cold of winter and was grateful, not for the first time, of her thick winter coat. She loved all seasons equally, but somewhere hidden deep in her heart she was beginning to think it a mistake to have left Oakstead in winter. She should have waited until spring, as many of her packmates had tried to persuade her to do. But she had been stubborn, a new feeling for her. She was soft; many in Oakstead were soft, for her birth pack was a peaceful place. Many had not understood her need to leave. She didn’t really understand it, herself; she knew only that if she stayed within the sanctuary forever, she would never truly feel satisfied with her life. So, soft as she was, she had gone off on her own… and now was regretting it.

A female wolf draped in grey stood near the stream she had been moving towards in the hopes that it wasn’t completely frozen over. Coming across another wolf broke Daylily out of her funk, at least temporarily. It had been some time since she had met another of her kind. “Hello,” she called in a quiet, childlike voice, smiling and wagging her tail shyly. “Were you hoping for a drink, also?”

she is not alone long. there comes another, draped in softness and simple kindness. "hello," comes her easy answer, her attention shifting to the wolf in front of her. this, here, is a start. "not here—the bank's too steep, icy." she warns; though the rock seems easy enough to navigate, beneath the snow is a thick layer of ice she remembers well from a few seasons ago. 

"what is your name?" she queries, gaze moving over the woman as she takes her in. healthy, young, and outwardly, perfectly polite.

“Oh,” Daylily said, a bit disappointed that she would need to go elsewhere for water—if there was anywhere at all that wasn’t frozen over. She gazed with orange eyes along the length of the stream that disappeared into the distance. She glanced back at the pale woman, wanting to move on and find a shallower place along the bank to try and get a much-needed drink. However, she hadn’t had a conversation with another wolf in quite a while and was loathe to leave so soon. Perhaps the woman felt the same, for she asked for Daylily’s name after another moment.

“Daylily of Oakstead,” she replied softly, bowing her head. “What is your name?” She gazed upon the woman with curious, polite eyes, the manners she had been taught as a pup coming back to her.

it's a pretty name, followed by a surname she does not know. not from the wilds, then. "dawn morningside," she answers easily enough. the woman smells of earth and trees and wind, but of no distinct place. a loner, then, but not one here long; most fall in with packs fairly soon, and she does not seem the type to wander alone for long. "are you new to Teekon?" she asks then, sizing her up as a potential recruit but delaying mentioning her claim here for now.

this post is all over the place, oof.

Dawn sounded like a name that someone in Oakstead might have, and it made Daylily smile. Morningside was also a pretty last name. This pale woman reminded her of home so much that her chest ached. 

’Are you new to Teekon?’ Dawn asked.

“Teekon,” she repeated, tasting the word on her tongue. “Yes. I did not know it was called that. Thank you.” She dipped her head in appreciation. “I…” She knew Dawn would probably ask her why she was traveling the wilds alone in winter, and she wasn’t sure how to answer such a question. “My old home was lovely, and I miss it fiercely, but nothing ever happened there. I felt… stifled.” She shrugged, hoping that would be enough to sate the pale woman’s curiosity for a question she had not even asked yet. 

She sighed. “Perhaps they were right, though. Perhaps I should have waited until spring… ’Til after Ostara, when the Lady returns.” Words like “Ostara” and “Lady” were commonplace in Oakstead; Daylily did not realize that not all followed the Wheel of the Year, and the Lord and Lady: The Horned God and the Mother Goddess.

"I can understand that," she offers at the woman's explanation. feeling trapped, stifled as the girl eloquently put it, had been one of her great fears as a youth; now, in some moments she found herself wishing for that time to come again. knowing what she did now; how different would her life have become should she have made the right choices? it was impossible to know, she mused, and so put the thought to rest. 

"ostara?" she echoes in question, curious as too who the lady she speaks of is. her alpha, perhaps—but where would she have gone? "this is whitebark stream. I will raise a pack here in the coming months; if you are looking for a pack to fall in with, you are welcome to join us." she offers then. she's grown rather fond of the woman already, and cuts quickly to the preposition then.

’Ostara?’ Dawn repeated in a questioning tone.

Daylily looked upon her in surprise. “You do not know of Ostara? The Spring Equinox?” She hesitated, for she was not sure even what to say in the face of such a strange occurrence. She had never been outside of Oakstead before, and had grown up with the Wheel of the Year, learning about each holy day, whether it was ruled over by the Lord or the Lady.

Before she could say more, she was being invited to join Dawn’s eventual pack here, in Whitebark Stream. Day opened her mouth, surprised, wondering what to say. She closed it without speaking, looked around at the white tree trunks, the frozen-over stream that would soon be flowing again in spring… The way the sun shone down on the snow, making it glisten and glitter. “Thank you,” she breathed, her voice hardly above a whisper. She turned back towards Dawn. “It is beautiful here. I would love to stay, to help you set up a pack. I—I did not expect to find a new home so soon.” Her orange eyes softened as she gazed upon the woman who had just offered her a home. “I will try not to let you down.”

she seems somewhat shocked by her lack of knowledge, a fact she takes mild offense too before remembering this is likely the first time the woman's left her home and all the traditions and knowledge that are commonplace, there. "not by that name," she answers, "who is the Lady?" she questions further, soft interest on her features. 

daylily offers her gratitude, then, earning a soft smile and wagging tail from the huntress. "with your help, it will be a good one," she promises, small glow settling in her chest as her acceptance of the offer is confirmed. "you won't. in my experience, everyone has something unique to offer to the whole; or the ability to learn to." she trusts in the gentle kindness of the woman; she will make a fine member of their growing group.

Daylily felt heat rise to her skin as Dawn nearly showered her in praise. She looked away from her new leader in embarrassment, but somewhere deep in her heart was a glow of pride. She would do her best, she knew that much. And she was glad to have been given a chance to prove herself.

To distract away from her shyness, Day focused back on the questions Dawn had asked about Ostara and the Lady. “Where I come from, in Oakstead, we worship the Lord and the Lady, also known as the Horned God and the Mother Goddess. The Lord is represented by the sun and sky, by summer, and by the horned creatures that roam the earth, like deer and moose.” She paused, thinking now of the Goddess. “The Lady,” she said, “is represented by the moon, the earth, water, and springtime.

We also follow the Wheel of the Year, a grouping of eight holy days celebrating the turning of the seasons. Ostara is the celebration of spring. We plant seeds in our gardens, collect berries and other edible plants, hunt small game and fish to begin restoring our caches. We revel in the return of green and the budding of trees and flowers.” Daylily could not help the smile that came to her lips. “It is a joyous time.” Suddenly, she realized she had been rambling on for some time, and her ears pulled back along her head. “Forgive me, I could speak of such things forever.”

the woman has an obvious love for her traditions. thought the huntress does not truly understand, daylily's clear passion is enough for her to listen carefully, enraptured by the tale she spins and the deities she names. the lord and the lady, special holidays and symbols. she has known wolves to believe in things, luck or gods or things after death, but nothing like this. 

the woman excuses herself, and the huntress smiles. "no, it is interesting!" she ensures, questions at her lips but not wishing to overwhelm the girl, who already seems somewhat shy. dawn has never stopped to consider her beliefs; she believes in the turn of the seasons, in curses, in family, in her own decisions. beyond that, she's never questioned. "this lord and lady, are they kind gods?" she asks. she may not believe in the things daylily does, but there is a certain allure to such tales, and she does not fault others for their beliefs, unless they somehow seek to cause her and her own harm.

Daylily breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that Dawn seemed actually interested in what she had to say. It was fun, explaining her beliefs to someone who did understand them; she had never had to do so before. She stopped and thought about Dawn’s question. Were the Lord and Lady kind gods? “Well…” she began, slowly. “I would consider the Lady… gentler than the Lord. She represents prettier things, flowers, the moon, the green earth. She is the Mother, the caregiver. The Lord is kind, too, in His own way, though He is more… wild.” How to explain? 

“The Lord is the provider. He comes to us as the large prey we hunt, but if we are not careful, we can be kicked by a deer, or speared by its antlers. He is also the summer, when it is hot. Summer can be fun; it is a time of abundance, of hot days spent splashing in cool water, or napping in the shade. Yet, the sun can burn fiercely, cause water sources to dry up, which can be dangerous. Then again, in winter—which is ruled by the Lady—when we feel the lack of the sun, we miss it dearly.” Daylily shrugged. “It is a balance. The Lord and Lady love us the same, but provide for us differently, and each season comes with its own boons, as well as its own challenges.”

daylily goes on to explain, and dawn is patient as she does. she doesn't understand, not entirely, but the idea of a balance is clear to her, at least. when she finishes, the huntress is silent a moment longer, considering. "I think I understand," she offers, finally. smile curves her muzzle, and a small dip of her head. "thanks for explaining, daylily." it's a lot of information, despite what she may think of it. 

straightening, offering a stiff shake of her pelt, she suggests, "hunt with me?" there is no easier way for her to bond further with another than the simple rush of the hunt; by working in tandem in the trade she excels in she can truly gain a feel for the other. 

fade here?

Daylily was all smiles, what with such a good conversation—until Dawn suggested a hunt. “Uhh, I… I will try,” she stuttered. “It—It depends on what we’re hunting. I am best with small prey: rabbits, rodents, fish, birds.” Her ears moved back along her skull. “I left the larger prey to better hunters in Oakstead.” She took a deep breath. “But… whatever it is, I’ll try my best.” 

A nervous smile came to her lips as she followed Dawn off to wherever she wanted to take her.

[End?]