Blacktail Deer Plateau A dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest.

IDK why but he's fully activated and ranked in Rusalka despite being inactive since November, lol? I'll explain that away IC as him rolling in scents on his approach.

They were still here. Finding the territory wasn't so hard now that he was a little bigger, a little more desperate. Still here, where the air reeked of pine instead of salt. As he carried himself up along one of the many stony ledges and ducked among the trees, the boy came across a freshly covered cache and thought, 'What good fortune,' and would have set upon it had he not smelled his mother's scent nearby; this curtailed any nefarious antics immediately.

Instead of dredging through the cold clay soil for whatever leftovers he might find, Reyes moved on - in reverse - so that he straddled the territory limits. Here he bowed against the snow, crushing it, rolling across the liminal shades of yellow which streaked the white. He gathered the scents greedily and when he stood again, was enrobed in the mark of Rusalka once more; it was as if he never left.

Today was a bad day.  She'd had those, occasionally, when the mists refused to rise from her mind and her spirits demanded she snap at those near.  These were the days she patrolled, turning her solitude towards protecting their claim.  Lord knows her family didn't need it.

Strangers on the limits, though... her interest spiked when she saw one.  In such a mood she looked forward to expelling whoever it was, turning them away with teeth if need be.  She stalked forward, imperious and aggressive, only to stop short when she recognized that coat.  Reyes.

Rosalyn stared at him a moment, the pallor on her mood making it hard for her to determine how she should respond. As a mother she was delighted to see him... hurt that he left, but overjoyed he was safe.

She took a step forward, then froze, and her muzzle split into a smile.  She recalled he hadn't appreciated touch.  Reyes, was she said, but the feeling was evident.

He looked around at the limits before slinking across the border, keeping his eyes on the shadows in case they were to shift, to coalesce and become something dangerous. He saw threats everywhere - a touch too paranoid maybe, but it was a trait that served him well enough within Tortuga. It didn't stop his mother from sneaking up on him all the same, and while he did not immediately recognize her as she careened after him, he reacted defensively; curling his body and protecting his throat, spinal fur spiking. 

When she recognized him, he recognized her. It was like staring at a mirror; an older feminine version of himself staring back. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, but Reyes didn't look too long upon her face, and couldn't name what he saw brewing there. He looked away as if defeated by her very presence, and then she spoke his name - and he relaxed.

Mom. He called back to her softly, and with some care he crept towards her.

That single phrase did it.  She closed the distance with as much care as her self control allowed, but didn't touch him... just inspected.  Hijo she said softly, intently, as she searched him over for wounds.  He seemed sound enough.  And grown!

Where were you? she asked, and there was a small touch of exasperation behind the joy.  Children were okay to wander, but he'd disappeared without a word.  Where had he gone, and why?

He tensed when she moved swiftly towards him, and offered a vaguely apologetic glance when he realized she didn't mean to strike at him. It felt so strange to be here with her again. Maybe if he had lingered a little bit longer in this forest he would have felt better? That would have saved him from getting lost - but then he would never have found Tortuga, and in a sense, found a part of himself he didn't know he had been missing.

Rosalyn's question was met with a slant of his ears, but he smiled thinly despite the apprehension he felt. She sounded tired but that was probably something else - some unreadable emotion brought on by his return. I... I wanted to go home. It was still wrecked, so I went looking for something better.. For all of us. He had planned to come home all along - sooner, but fate wouldn't allow that.

Every place I found was just as broken as the last. Eventually I found a place, but... It wasn't right. Reyes did not want to explain the twists of fate that brought him to Tortuga; parts of the place had helped him to grow, while others had been difficult to understand, and all of it felt too personal to share with his mother. He was quiet a moment before adding, ...the residents called it Tortuga.

It did not dawn upon the boy that his pirate-wench of a mother might know of it.

She couldn't fault him for that, but it didn't erase the sting of the look he gave her, for an instant.  Was he afraid?  When had she ever inspired this?

She did know that place, but only in passing.  She'd heard it mentioned as a place of pirates, counter to her own,  but not their enemies.  She didn't know much more.

Pirates, she affirmed quietly, then softened.  Are you okay?  And, a second later, the less apparent one.  Are you staying?  She could assume because of the scent, but if he'd taken a liking to this Tortuga, it could be he was here only to bring word.  She couldn't fault that either; she just knew it would pain her, as it always would.

He had learned a lot in his time away. The wolves of Tortuga had a particular manner about them which, at least in part, Reyes had begun to emulate; some of the behaviors he did not particularly like, and it came out around certain individuals, which had prompted his return home. He could not shake it all yet - many of the instances he'd faced still clouded his mind, detracting from his full potential. It would be a while before the boy made sense of everything that had happened.

Are you okay? His mother asked, and he nodded.

Are you staying? The more important question; but he didn't expect her to ask that, not after he had worked to drape the scent of Rusalka across his body. A little smirk spread upon his face although there was no mirth to it.

I'd like to stay. I'd like to be a family again. And it seemed like everyone was finding their way back to Rusalka, even if it wasn't in the territory they deserved. Reyes still disliked the petrichor of the forest. Where is Nieve? He asks sharply, eager to seek out his remaining sister so he can begin to make amends - considering he'd left her here so abruptly, she deserved to know he was back.

She hadn't wanted to assume, but when he confirmed it, she felt a tension in her chest unfurl.  Good, she responded, without emphasis but with a good deal of welcome.  I missed you. She reached forward tentatively with her muzzle, a question of whether she could embrace him or not.

If he allowed, she would, but either way she answered his question.  She is scouting, but should be back before the week closes.  She'll be glad to see you home, I'm sure. She couldn't see their daughter resenting him for his departure, but on the off chance, he just may need to do some reparations.

As much as he wanted to be fawned over by his mother, something stopped that from happening. She leaned close and he sniffed at her with his own muzzle for a second or two, but upon learning that his sister was off scouting somewhere Reyes' attachment flickered and he drew back; Nieve would be home eventually and when she came, he would be ready to explain himself to her. The chance to talk about his ordeal with his mother was right here - he should take it, and let her fawn, let her in, to be the mother he knew she could be.

Yet he does not do this; instead, Reyes draws away with an uttered, I'll get a bite to eat then, be ready when she comes back.

With an absent-minded (somewhat childish) reservation, Reyes drifts from his mother's company and through the woods, heading to where he remembered some caches being so that he can fill his hungry belly. Whether he is successful or not, he appears to be quite focused and doesn't realize how cold his behavior might appear.

Something was different.  Concern touched her as he dismissed himself and left, pulling from her embrace and her company.  He'd not been physically affectionate for a long while, but he'd always been open to speaking with her.  Now she sensed something off, a new reticence he must have picked up during his time with Tortuga.

Perhaps she should follow, but she did not.  As a mother she had always been open, but she never pried.  Now that her children were adults it was doubly true.  He would share or he would keep to himself; she would not draw his stories from him.

Still, her gaze lingered on the place he'd disappeared, and a bit of hurt touched on the joy of the reunion.  Then she strode, slowly, in the opposite direction.