Iktome Plains And I am losing more each day it seems

Night fell over the plains, and from where Niamh was she could see the rise and rush of the ocean's surf against the shore. She sat at the edge of the plains where the grass still poked up from beneath the snow simply on account of the ocean breeze that caused it to drift in snow dunes along the natural line of the beach's edge. She sat under the dim light of a crescent moon so slim it was barely a cheshire cat's smile, and it lazed just barely above the pitch black, writhing horizon of the ocean's shoulder. She felt as though she was in some sort of trance as she cast her gaze out over the ocean- something which had always had some sly lure for her, though she had never chosen to live a life at its edge, as the wolves of Rusalka and Drageda had. No- she knew the cruel lash of the sea-witch's whip, and how her breath could send such a chill as to steal the words from a wolf's mouth. Niamh preferred a land where the air was still and fresh- renewed  and kept calm by the shelter of conifers. 

It was only when she heard a soft hissing sound from overhead that she tilted her head back and gazed up at the sky, and at first, she thought that what she saw might be a flock of birds...Though it was the wrong time of year to spot a starling murmuration. It looked at first like a grey cloud, but moved the way a fish moves under the surface of water- too quickly to be clouds, and aside from that, no wind would be fickle enough to tease the cloud out in so many directions before clenching it together- and then allowing it to even out again. What she was seeing, though she didn't know it, was a glimpse of the Northern Lights- something she had heard of, but had never seen...And what she saw now was nothing like what she'd been told they looked like. 

She remembered them being described as giant pillars, writhing ribbons of violet and green...Not a cloud of grey that moved much like an amoeba- and so, she wasn't sure what she was looking at, but the thought of it being Northern Lights didn't even cross her mind- not yet, at least. Not while the colour was still a faint, rippling grey. Still- the cloud (or whatever it was, as she was still not sure) moved with such grace and intriguing movements, that she remained where she was, gazing up at the sky.

She was aware, of course, that she should have headed home much earlier in the day. Having roved up the coast in hopes of crossing paths with Raleska or Caiaphas, she had been disappointed to see that Rusalka no longer held its claim along the coast, nor was she sure where they had gone. But mother nature had seen fit to gift Niamh with her annual surge of hormones, and she had hastened her pace to return to the pack. Her journey was swayed by the beauty of the crescent moon, hanging over the ocean- and she delayed even longer, her attention transfixed on the pale lights above which painted the night sky with such loving movements. With each swell and sweep of movement, she felt her emotions ebb and flow with the tide of the lights above her, and for the time being at least, she was lulled into a calm, but happy place.

Here, have some rambles!

If Phox had known that Niamh had immediately forgiven him after he'd departed their last conversation, he probably would have had the same baffled reaction as he'd had when he'd left the copse. Things between them had seemed rocky from the start, and during this time away, Phox had begun to realize that—even if he got back and she forgave him—he wasn't sure anything would become of them. Someday, they might be friends again, but lovers? That seemed too far-fetched, even for the boy who had once knocked up a girl who desperately called him "husband."

He was thinking of Camilla now, how things had been with her. They had been complicated, but in a different way. She'd been broken when he'd met her, and she'd been broken when she slipped away from this world, but Camilla's connection to him had always remained the same, consistent. She had seemed happy in some sense when they were together, content and maybe a little bit confused. Niamh seemed sure of herself, but to an extreme that rubbed Phox the wrong way. He was reminded of her previous rift with Towhee, how it had split them apart just as her rift with him had split this relationship apart, too.

Gaze turned upward, he watched the strange phenomenon above him, wondering if it was some way that the stars were trying to speak to him. A silly thought for the normally practical Redhawk, but sometimes wishing things to be true was easier than knowing the truth of it. He hoped that Camilla was up there somewhere, looking down on her children and watching over them. Phox liked to think so, even if his late wife had been a bit strange. She had seemed to care for him, and in time, he likely would have fallen in love with her. Phox had certainly fallen in love with the two children she had given him (in a dad way, you sickos).

A familiar scent drifted into Phox's nose then, and he scrunched his muzzle up at it. It couldn't be, could it? Surely Niamh would respect his decision to take some time away from the situation, and yet... yes, that was definitely it. Wanting nothing more than to avoid her, Phox quickly tried to find the fastest way away from his once-crush. Unfortunately for him, he'd probably already been seen or heard.

It seemed as though whenever the lights intensified, or began to move faster, the hissing got louder. It was barely loud enough, but equipped with sensitive hearing, it was just loud enough for a wolf to hear. It was somewhat like the sound of grasshoppers on a hot summer's day, or what it felt like walking into a store selling old-fashioned watches- so many that all the little 'ticks' came together in a soft buzz. She wasn't sure if she was hearing the hiss, or if she was feeling it, but she perceived it somehow, nonetheless- and associated it with any sort of swell in the dusky grey clouds that arced overhead. 

Even more peculiar was the fact that they seemed to tend to stretch from one horizon to the other- spanning East to West, and though they swirled and twisted, creating arcs and dunes, they did not seem to stray too far from where they were. Moving as though moulded and shaped tenderly and carefully by loving winds, the grey shapes pulsed and faded, softly, gently, slowly. 

Her attention was pulled away by the sound of pawsteps rustling the grass in one of the moments that the overhead lights went quiet, and she turned her head to see a familiar shape, cast in dusky greys and even darker on a night as dark as this one- beginning to move away. "Phox," She called out, her tone clear and without hesitation. She did, after all, feel inclined to welcome companionship, despite how it might have gone against her truer nature. "Phox, come see this," She said, before she began to gaze toward the heavens once more.

He had hoped to go unnoticed, but those hopes were dashed out with the sound of his own name in Niamh's voice. She wanted him to come look at something, as if they had not just gotten in a big row. As if she had not berated him over and over again for something he'd apologized for. As if nothing was wrong. At some point in his life, perhaps when he'd first come back to the Redhawks, Phox would have gladly accepted such an offering of peace. Somewhere along the line—perhaps when he had tried his hand at leading, or maybe when he'd become a father, or perhaps when he'd gotten knocked upside the head on his fall down from the landslide—Phox had a change of heart, and he couldn't just pretend like certain things hadn't happened.

Did you follow me out here? he asked, making his way to where she was, only half-paying attention to the strange lights and sounds in the sky above. There was something different about the way she smelled, a lighter, more rosy scent, but he brushed it off. He did have to admit that, as much as he felt like she had disrespected him and refused to see his side of things, she was still pretty. Dang stupid brain.

She looked to see if he was coming a couple times, but otherwise, kept her gaze fixed toward the stars, where the cloudy film of grey stretched across the sky above her, but had fallen somewhat quiet and still. She dared it to flare up again and move, but it seemed content to simply exist, moving more slowly than breath on cold air, as Phox came to join her. He spoke, and she gave him a coy sort of side-eye, and wriggled her shoulders slightly, causing herself to shudder and wriggle them once more. "You'd like that," Came her reply, buoyant with a sort of dark mirth. She gestured up again, with her chin. 

"What is it?" She asked, finally turning her head to look at him, noticing then that he wasn't nearly as preoccupied with the phenomenon in the sky as she was, which surprised her. She smiled softly. "C'mon, Astronomer- this is supposed to be your jam, isn't it?" She asked, kiddingly. But in the moment, it was more difficult for her, too, to turn her gaze back toward the skies, rather than simply gazing at Phox. Even in the dark, she could see the earthy tone in the eye nearest to her, though the darkness did serve to hide some of his scars. She remembered what he looked like, before he'd been injured- but didn't find herself pining away for a face devoid of scars. There was something about it that gave him a slightly more stern expression, and it was something she found deviously attractive.

Phox was suspicious of her tone. Of course he was. He promised himself he wouldn't buy into whatever she was selling. And why was she acting like nothing had happened?!

Women, am I right?

She asked him what it was, and Phox studied the sky a bit longer. He had heard of this thing before, long ago, back before he had reunited with Towhee, before he had met Niamh, before he had met Camilla, before he'd been a father. Back when he'd been a piece of shit coward. That felt like forever ago.

Aurora borealis, he recited from that long-ago lesson, eyes still looking upward. And no, I wouldn't like that. His voice was less soft now as he returned her gaze with one of his own. I came out here to get some time away from... from us. And how gloriously he had failed in doing that. Instead of avoiding the one wolf he'd been trying to, here he was, looking at pretty lights alone with her. Fuck!

Phox considered asking her how things had gone after he left, but he didn't want to bring it up again. Why was she being nice to him all of the sudden? It had to be a trick.

Phox's diagnosis brought Niamh some relief, upon learning that it wasn't the Northern lights above them, but something called the Aurora Borealis. Of course- she didn't know that they were one in the same, but she was relieved nonetheless to not be disappointed in seeing how grey and dim the Northern Lights were, at a certain latitude, and when the conditions weren't perfect. She was able, then, to preserve the belief that the Northern Lights were meant to be vivid, dancing lights of purple and green- and that these Aurora Borealis were something completely different. Maybe some type of cloud, she supposed wordlessly. 

But before she could comment or react, really, he concluded in the same breath that he was not exactly pleased to see her there, and that he'd intended, with his trip, to distance himself from her. She looked at him then, hurt and disappointed, but her surprise melted into shame, and she nodded her head as she slowly looked toward the ground, now ignoring the much less interesting natural phenomenon overhead. In a voice barely louder than the hiss the lights had issued overhead, she spoke. "I'm sorry," She said, dejectedly. "I shouldn't of...Been so..." She grimaced. She wasn't sure she could exactly describe how she'd been, but she did certainly look as though every bit of it was regretted. There was still a bit of stubbornness there- as she still thought he'd done the wrong thing...But her reaction had been inappropriate. "I shoulda just...I dunno. I got no excuse. I was a pissed off Mom...But I shoulda handled things more...Better."

Niamh apologized, and Phox found that—unlike her—he couldn't be too angry about anything after that. He could relate to her worries as a parent, even if he couldn't ever get as angry as she had about the whole thing. There were a lot of questions and thoughts on his mind, but as usual, he let the golden Blackthorn explain herself before he said anything. It did look and sound as though she truly was apologizing, which he hadn't expected to happen. He'd already said his apologies, and he felt no need to express anything further in that department, but he could be the bigger person here and let it go.

And he would, because that was just the sort of guy Phox was. It's okay, he said, his tone softer now than it had been before. Of course, he still didn't know where they stood now, but Phox was fatigued from asking that question. He wasn't even sure he wanted an answer even if he had asked, and he knew that he didn't even have an answer to it for himself.

She exhaled softly, when he reassured her, but she wasn't sure he really meant it, as the tiredness in his voice sounded more like he was simply saying what he needed to in order to bring their disagreement to a close, as he had wanted to do weeks ago. But she was such a tempestuous and fickle creature...She couldn't have helped her surging emotions had she wanted to. And now, she felt even more drunk on sensation than ever- but for once, she was filled with an optimism that made her practically glow. 

She looked up again at the greys which moved gently, and she smiled faintly. "Y'know, I'm glad it's just the...Aurora Bornealis, not the Northern Lights." She said. "Someone told me about something called them a long time ago, an' said they were all...Bright and purple and green and vivid. An' I wanted to see them so bad...But I woulda been disappointed if this was all they turned out to be." She said, with a chuckle, unknowingly blowing air into a very fragile bubble.

Congrats on the promo!

She mispronounced the name with an extra N, then proceeded to talk about the Northern Lights which were... exactly what they were looking at. Oh, uh... he shifted from one paw to the other, Sometimes they look like this. Aurora borealis is just another name for the Northern Lights. Phox wasn't all that well-versed in the whys or hows of them being different, but the noise alone was enough to give it away. His own focus had always been on stars; not the occasional strange flicker of light and sound overhead.

I can't remember when the real pretty ones come around... they might not even do that around here. Maybe it had something to do with location, too. The name alone (Northern Lights) made him think one would need to travel to see the best variety. Phox had never made it too far north, though. Phox was looking up again, watching the light show overhead more now with more interest than he had been before. It suddenly felt like a good distraction from Niamh and their rift, even if that was maybe smoothed over for now.

-What??!- Niamh emphatically blurted, naturally falling into using Ptero to accentuate her monosyllabic objection, and she stared Phox down to gauge his seriousness, but from his cool confidence, she could ascertain no trace of a lie or joke. "No way," She compained quietly, looking up at the sky with a newfound disappointment, having just learnt that the spectacle she'd most wanted to see could be no more than this. "Buhh," She felt let down when informed that the ones she'd been told about might not even come to this area, so she sighed and huffed. 

"Guess not everything's as pretty as it's supposed to be," She said, allowing an ear to loll in his direction to indicate that yes, she was referring to herself as well, and she was aware of it.

He gave her a mirthful glance when she made her self-deprecating comment. Might just be the circumstances, he replied, also referring to her in his own way. Phox let the silence settle in then, feeling the weight of whatever had caused the clash between them slowly dissipate. He still wasn't entirely sure things were resolved, but they were at least on their way to mending. As always, Phox was more inclined to let things settle than pick at healing wounds, so he didn't press anything about that disagreement to the surface.

After some time, though, Phox opened his mouth to speak again. He couldn't help but ask, So... you and me, is that still a possibility? He was asking for his answer as much as hers, but obviously he wanted to know her side before he laid his cards on the table. Phox did think they'd make some very pretty children, although he imagined that was still a long ways off.

FUN FACT: According to people in different areas of Canada, whistling at the Northern Lights allegedly has very different effects. Some people believe that if you whistle at them, they'll start to dance more...So if you go out looking for them, you might hear someone whistling in the distance trying to perk them up. MEANWHILE other people think that if you whistle at them, they'll come down and steal your soul, and strongly advise against it.

Niamh wasn't quite sure how to respond when Phox asked the question that had been sitting in the back of her mind for days now. Part of her was pleased that she'd managed to fix things to the point where he'd actually think to ask it again- and she felt relieved that he wasn't just considering mending their friendship, but in going further than that. She also wasn't entirely sure what she wanted just yet...But her heart, upon hearing those words, began to sing her a siren song that sweetened her smile, making her tongue curl as though she'd tasted something sour but delicious, and brought a warmth to her cheeks that flushed down her neck and over her shoulders. Whatever forbidden fruit this song was about, it warmed Niamh, and she reached out to nip his shoulder. 

"C'mon. I heard if you howl at the lights, that they'll start to howl," Came her warm, playful reply. In a way, the positivity of her energy could have been intended to give him an affirmative answer. The sparkle in her eyes might've said it all as well, in the look that she gave him before she leaned back- and slightly toward him- and sent her voice up to the heavens in a high, tremulous call with hopes of getting the Northern Lights to dance.

Can we have a BTS conversation about Towhee? Unless you want to have another thread with them before they get back home! Pretty sure Phox would ask about how things were back home at some point.

In her typical manner, she didn't give him a straight answer, which drove him crazy to no end... but maybe that wasn't such a terrible thing. If it had been an answer he needed right now, maybe he would have pressed her further, but leaving it out in the open seemed like a better option right now. At least this meant he didn't have to say out loud one way or the other. The nip to his shoulder meant she wasn't entirely opposed to it, which meant there was at least some chance of their friendship blossoming into something else. Phox had no intention of rushing things, so he let the answer remain at least somewhat ambiguous.

When she began to howl, Phox was quick to join in, the instinct to join her too strong to resist even if he had wanted to. His throat opened up, pushing out the air from his lungs and feeling the harmony in their voices combined. He felt that, deep down, they could make a great team. The question was whether or not they were ready or willing to go down that road. Phox reminded himself to pump the brakes just a little and told himself that they had all the time in the world to figure things out.

With the Firebirds still a few days travel from here, he assumed they could travel back together, perhaps have some conversations along the way and get a better feel for where things would land when they arrived home.

She wasn't entirely sure if her plan to sing at the lights would work or not- but it felt simply rapturous to have Phox's voice join with hers. She felt herself summoned to her feet, eventually, as their howls rose and fell together, and with each crescendo she could feel her heart begin to beat more and more furiously until she couldn't contain herself anymore. With each howl, her voice became toned and controlled, and what had originated as a song for the sky, eventually became a sirensong. She brazenly brushed her side against Phox's as she stood, and glanced up at the sky, just as the greyish ribbons began to move and ripple, pulling in slight shades of faint, greyish-green where they were most concentrated. It may not have been the Aurora show she had wanted- but in this place, at this time- it was still magic. 

"Dance with me," She whispered to Phox, reaching out to touch her nose to his cheek, linger there for a moment, before she was whisked away by on prancing toetips, buckling down into an inviting playbow once before bounding away again, tail arcing over her hips in a happy wave. She began to flounce off into the darkness, but continued to beckon and lure her companion with fleeting, coy glances.

I think you could fade out in your next one, or I'm happy to keep this one moving along with their adorable flirting; up to you!

Their voices called together, though Phox quickly forgot the why of their song and became much more involved in the sound of it. When the notes died down and Niamh brushed against him, he felt a flutter of something. Something he hadn't felt in so long he questioned its very existence for a moment. Her suggestion (or rather, command) that he dance with her was an easy one to pleasantly nod along to, especially after the coldness of her nose touched his cheek. If there was any lingering resentment toward her, it was quickly quashed by watching her bow and spin around and away from him.

The Redhawk followed her willingly to wherever she had in mind, letting her get ahead sometimes, then catching up a few paces later. Phox made sure to keep her on his right (sighted) side whenever he caught up, nipping at her shoulder when she would allow him to. He may have been chasing her in the physical sense of the word, but he knew from past experience that she was the one had started the chase.

Riding on this natural, biological high made all the difficult things melt away and fade into obscurity, where they could not distract her from this current escape. She wheeled and whirled, dipped toward him and side-stepped away in a dance that the two performed seamlessly, whilst overhead the lights which had faded back to grey now dissipated into the void of night. While the light show had been disappointing, they had also taken on a new significance, knowing that the night she finally set eyes on them would be the night where she and Phox would forget their conflict, and give themselves to each other under a starlit sky.