Silverlight Terrace My competition can't see me 'cause I don't own a mirror

She didn't know what to expect from the wolves of Seabolt when she turned up after so long. Would they be happy to see her, alive and well, with good news? Or would they be angry with her for disappearing, never making good on her mission and turning her back on them to join another pack? Quell couldn't possibly guess, so she navigated her way there with a measure of uncharacteristic trepidation.

As it turned out: neither. The island was empty, the nearby coastline devoid of any trace of them. She stood on the beach following her search, toes dug into the sand, and realized they must have given up and moved on themselves, abandoning their home to follow the herds. Q bit her lip, sent them a silent well wish, then turned and began the journey back to Sagtannet.

She was just about to pass Moonspear again when it hit her. Quell let out a cry of pain, her legs crumpling as she tumbled into the dry grass of the nearby terrace. She didn't lose consciousness, though she sort of wished she had, considering the agonizing pain pounding in her temples. The yearling did the only thing she could, which was to put her paws over her face to block out the light and wait for the sudden onset migraine to pass.

Tags are purely plotty! I'd love for any/all of you to nab, although it's all welcome. :)

@Antares @Arcturus @Atlas @Dacio @Dragomir @Jarilo @Osiris

He’d followed the scent of the hare down the mountain and onto the terrace. The shade had not ventured far before the scent had faded, only to be replaced by the aroma of an unknown figure. The overwhelming fragrance was one that had overpowered his previous tracking. The young Ostrega had been directed toward where the passerby had been until her scent had picked up and carried a stronger balm. Atlas followed it, his pace increasing with each powerful leap that pushed him over boulder and rocky outcrop.
 
Just ahead of the shade there was a dark figure – dappled with flecks of snowflake markings along her back and shoulders – hunched against the earth with her paws covering her eyes. The shade paused, regarding her with a cautious expression. For several long moments, Atlas did not attempt to approach the stranger. His wary golden gaze remained glued to her for signs of life, though.
 
When the dark girl stirred just slightly, it signaled that her untimely demise had not been met on the rocky terrain. A defensive bark was issued from his scruffy muzzle. The shade then picked his way over a few stray stones and closed some of the space between them. “Are you injured?” the dark young man inquired in a gravelly voice.

Others are welcome at anytime!

She didn't know anyone was nearby until a voice spoke, causing Quell to jump, her paws falling away from her face even as an agonized moan tumbled from her lips. Despite her pain, she managed a thready, "Man, can you dim the lights, please?" She sucked in a fortifying breath before answering, "No, it's a migr—" The latter part of the word was lost in a literal spew of gobbledygook and gagging noises as the pain hit a crescendo, causing her to vomit.

Head still pounding, she spat and weakly shifted from the puddle of upchuck as she tried again. "It's a headache," Q rasped, "a really gnarly one." In a sense, she was injured, though it had been sustained many months back. "It'll pass," she added, beginning to pant now as the pain subsided a little but left her feeling like a raw, exposed nerve ending. She'd had some bad headaches since the accident, though this was the worst to date.

"You don't happen to be a medic, do ya?" Quell queried, squinting as she finally turned to look up at her would-be helper. She swallowed, her saliva bitter, a wry little smile playing over her mouth despite the circumstances. "Of course I'd fall over and barf in front of a total stud muffin," she whispered through dry lips.

Another ranging shadow followed Atlas, who first tracked hare, who then found the stranger. He didn't rush along any, and kept his approach quiet, never quick to draw attention to the extra cunning he wanted to bring with him as he moved over the rocks. In defense of Moonspear (on these terrains he was getting to know steadily the more he roamed them like now), alongside his siblings, he was especially coarse.

His brother had the lead already well under control and he slipped in on the tail end of her asking about a medic. He had circled wide enough to go almost opposite Atlas, and not at all one to be forthcoming with the details about their resources so easily--not that he was any medic either, Antares only silently frowned down at her vomit-included circumstance. Nope.

To his recent encounters' credit, why was everyone from anywhere else such a mess lately? No wonder it was best they all stay away, per the clues he was picking up if this was the case. He tossed his brother a quick glance as he paused for now as close to her as he was willing to get so soon, and immediately wondered how long before they probably just have to chase her off; Antares was here to see it through, though, perhaps eager to see it, even.

I was waiting to see if anyone else might want to join in on this. :)

Peculiar transpired to something far more confusing when the girl requested that Atlas ‘dim the lights’ for her. The shade held his ground, though his ear swiveled atop his head – the only reflection of his bewilderment for what the snow-touched girl had said.
 
When she went on to suggest that there was something wrong with her head, the dark young Ostrega fell into a realization. He took a step closer to her and loomed downward to draw in the fragrance that was attached to her frame. Typically, the scent of illness was one that would have been easy to pick out from the rest. The shade was not able to pick up on anything that seemed out of place. Her fragrance was unfamiliar but did not carry a weight of danger. If anything, she seemed to exist in an aroma from far away.
 
Antares figure approached but did not say anything. With a single glance, Atlas regarded his brother with a small nod. It was to show that he appreciated the presence of another member of his family. Without the other dark Ostrega nearby, the shade would have likely been on high alert.
 
“I do believe I can retrieve some herbs that may assist with your head, miss,” he offered to her in a graveled voice. His dark crown was lowered so that his sunfire gaze could burn into her. The remark she had made about having vomited in front of a stud was one that he hadn’t been certain how to address, so he simply hadn’t.

Her eyes dropped for a moment and when she looked up again, there was two of him. Although he was easy on the eyes, this development wasn't a particularly welcome one. "Ho'shit, I'm seeing double," she blurted, right before the newest arrival's movements conveyed the fact that he was, in fact, a wholly separate entity. The resemblance was uncanny, though now that Q's brain had processed what she was seeing, she could pick out the unique details. They were equally handsome.

But only one, the first, moved closer and offered his help, right after giving her aura a good sniff. Quell felt her shoulders sag in relief. "That would be amazeballs," she said on an exhale, shooting him the most grateful look she could muster in the circumstances. "Hope I don't smell too much like puke," the yearling added, suppressing the urge to chuckle as it would likely make matters worse.

She took a few steadying breaths, then very gingerly pushed herself upright into a sit. "I'm Quell, by the way. Are you two from...?" The name escaped her as a wave of pain pulsed in her skull. She swallowed and gestured at Moonspear in the distance behind them. They not only looked similar, they also shared some features (particularly their coat color) with Lyra.

What had he come into? He wondered, trying not to snicker a bit to himself as she proclaimed doubles. His nostrils flared, ears forward, senses sharp as he searched past her overwhelming detail of not theirs. Atlas mentioned herbs for her head, and Antares only continued looking her over, testing her scent to no real answer of use. What was wrong with her head, even? Had she been struck? Or.. not? On the outside, didn't appear obviously like anyone or anything had beaten her up lately. Eyes narrowing, he slipped in a little closer, mostly just to peer as she spoke--strangely, to him, to boot. Amazeballs? Sure, he supposed, though he had never heard it quite like that.

He let her have her space to rise, of course, and he could finish that, unaware that it was her hurts that tapered her words off. Mhm. Moonspear, he filled in. I'm Antares, he answered, trying not to scrunch his nose at the smell of her purge. Even past it, he wasn't able to recognize much. You don't smell like near here, he added, the why? unsaid for now, but meant to be strongly implied in his looming. Atlas could ask for more, too, he was sure.. but he wanted to veer onto the side of suspicion, given what he knew might  be out here.

The girl’s vernacular sparked a questioning glance from the dark young man before he turned with a curt nod to his brother and ventured to find the stocks of herbs that had been stored by those who healed others within the mountain pack.
 
Atlas was not fond of the leafy items. He believed most of them had a sharp tang of a flavor and left remnants of dirt and scales from their leafy bodies in the back of his mouth. Still, he had seen the great things that these herbs could do. He had witnessed that there was some power in knowing the difference between plants that could harm and those that could help. After nosing through the greenery, the boy plucked a few peppermint leaves in his mouth and carried them back to where the young girl waited with Antares.
 
“You should chew these up and eat them,” the shade remarked to the stranger, dropping the leaves at her paws with a small nudge. “They’ll taste peculiar.” It was the only warning he could think to offer her, for the leaves did taste strange. The lingering flavor of mint still brought his tongue out to swipe along the hairs of his muzzle, unsure why it stayed in his mouth for so long.
 
“I am Atlas.”

There was one feature that truly set them apart: the first possessed striking yellow eyes, whereas the other's gaze was a cool navy blue. The former departed to collect the proffered herbs, leaving the latter to make an introduction. Antares, Quell repeated in her admittedly achy head, managing a small smile at his astute observation.

Before she could say much more on the matter of her probable stink, his brother (or so she assumed) reappeared and offered the leafy greens that would hopefully assuage her headache. Quell happily accepted them; in fact, she quickly gulped them, eager to put an end to her misery. Honestly, they did taste weird but she preferred this earthy freshness to the lingering flavor of vomit.

"And Atlas," she acknowledged out loud after swallowing. "I'm from a pack in that other mountain range." Quell made a halfhearted gesture toward the Sunspires over yonder as she answered Antares's unspoken question. "It's called Sagtannet." She could've explained why she was here, her history with Seabolt, but what did they care? Instead, she remarked, apropos of nothing, "Y'all Moonboys are ridiculously good-looking. I need to get in on this gene pool. Are either of you single?" She managed to waggle her eybrows with minimal pain, so that was good.

His brother left and eventually returned with greenery in tow, leaving Antares much as he had been with or without. He had taken a seat of his own, neatly enough, with a quirk to his brow, a curious, vaguely interested sort of expression--Quell soon made short work of the greenery, and went on to answer. The Ostrega did make particular note of any involvement of mountain, of course, yet to meet other mountain-dwelling wolves for himself. The strange words continued with a title to know it by: Sagtannet.

Ears up, Antares tilted his head, eyes sharp over the rest of her peculiar phrasing that made him think. Moonboys was not something he had heard before either--was this what outsiders knew Moonspear wolves as? At least, maybe their male sorts? Questions for his dad or uncles, probably, but he figured he might've heard it mentioned already somewhere if so.

Neither had his relationship status been questioned before, since he didn't yet get out that much, and gene pool was an implication he was a touch blindsided by. He was working on that, however, trying not to look too visibly confused by any of this. Hm? Yeah, he decided to answer, simply enough when there was no other explanation: he had no mate, and last he checked (this morning?), neither did Atlas. Moonboys is new to me, he glanced to his brother to see if he felt the same then. So was a lot of what she said, and he had to keep up. So what are you doing over here? Besides scouting for better gene pools.. he eyed her, curving a smirk with it. Was it really only the search for a handsome gene pool for her mountain range, perhaps? He wanted to doubt this... However, smelling the herb that still lingered on delivery-boy Atlas and patient Quell, he wondered: How's your head? Whatever the case was, the duo of dark Moonboys would linger in her company a while longer before seeing her off (in a hopefully improved state). Everyone could then return to their respective mountains.