Stone Circle Bobcaygeon

It was in the night when the shadows stole over her that it happened and startled her into wakefulness. She expected the twinge of pain to be some undiagnosed symptom of her fall, something internal that she had not expected- and in a way, it was true. Realization dawned on her long before daylight would have revealed any trace of her internal mutiny. The trauma stole away from her something she hadn't realized she had had- and left her feeling bewildered and lonely, torn somewhere between a paradoxical wave of grief and relief. How many more of these sudden, painful aftershocks would she feel, and would any of the more invisible ailments prove to be the thief that would smuggle her soul into the darkness before she even awoke?
 
And quietly, she stole away to the nearest stream and under a dark sky she bathed herself in the cool waters. She found her aching limbs and joints appreciated the anti-inflammatory nature of the cold water against her skin, and helped to clean her wounds. She lay in a sphinx-like position, allowing the water to drift around her hips and shoulders, and heaved a sigh. In her chest, her heart continued to batter against her ribcage, fighting back against the amount of shock she'd received over the past few days.

Night had stolen the sun, tucking it underneath it's shadow and shielding it away from the wolves of the land. Greyback often wondered why the gods chose to do such a thing. Did they, too, wish to harness it's power and warmth? To cherish and bask in it's light? Or were they truly merciful in giving a peaceful rest to the land?

Greyback ought to have taken their mercy with thanks, to sleep when The Gods had given him such chance, but not tonight. No. His mind had wandered, whisking him away from the quiet realm of his den with Valette. He had slipped out at the chance his love had rolled over, and now he sought to relieve himself and quell his thirst.

Padding down to the small stream, Greyback was surprised to see the silloute of another wading within the gentle water. Their frame thin, highlighted through the moonlight peaking in through the leaves above and the reflection of the water below. He stared at them for a bit, nose twitching as he took in their scent, perplexed as to why hadn't met them yet, hadn't been introduced. Perhaps it was because he had returned home so soon...

Clearing his throat loudly to announce his presence, the gentle giant gracefully padded out of the shadows to meet them, head poised high and tail swaying at his hocks.

The feel of the cool water around her waist and shoulders soothed her, and the soft, trickling sound of the stream lulled her into a calm, zen state. She hadn't closed her eyes completely, but had turned her focus away from her sense of sight and focused instead on the calming ballad of the spring, and how it lulled the aching pains in her abdomen into submission. She could find some willow bark, she thought- as willows often grew along streams such as this. That would help keep the pain at bay while she wasn't soaking in the cool waters. Once she found some of that, she could potentially go and-

-ahem.

With a small splash she half-rose, pushing herself up nearly to a seating position and a small, unbidden cry of pain shot past her lips, undoubtedly caused by the sudden motion that put strain on her ribs. She sought out the male and sank, slowly, back into the water at the sight of him, as though she wished she could simply melt away and turn into liquid herself. He was to her as would be a leviathan to a minnow- though there was a mildness about his stalwort, leonine features that caused her to still, and a softness to his lips and eyes that proclaimed no devil. Wordlessly, she dropped her chin so that her lips touched the water's surface, and focused her ashamed gaze onto the ripples that her breath made on the water's surface. Having met both Valette and now this fellow, she had to wonder if she fit in at all- as she possessed none fo the regality or nobility that they seemed to bear so effortlessly.

A turn.

A clash of blue upon orange akin to electricity. The man held steadfast, taking in the woman's soft features, her striking gaze and lithe frame drifting along the water. It half reminded him of the sirens from Yuelong, living in the salty liquid as if it was land itself.

He watched as pain sounded past her lips, small and barely noticeable to his ears, which had the man swiveled at that, alert, and slowly stepped forward to the waters edge in a languid gate. His eyes never leaving her as mud squished below his toes, forced out by the weight of his nature.

He dropped his chin to the surface as she did, partaking in his own thirst till the drops of water spilled from his jaws. "What be your name?" he questioned, voice hushed but still rumbling loudly within his breast.

Even in the dim light, his silhouette blocked out the reflection of the stars on the water's surface as he moved to the soft, muddy bank. Her eyes were drawn to his dark feet, made to look even larger now given the way his toes spread in the mud. She swallowed hard, but remained where she was. Despite the few feet of space between them, she could almost feel him and was surprised to be calmed by his powerful yet sedate aura. His movements were graceful and quiet, the way a king elk would make its way through a forest head held aloft, indifferent to danger. 

She was surprised, then, when the shadow shrank, revealing the stars once again, and the mountain bent to touch the water's surface. Hastily, she turned her gaze aside and tightened her shoulders so as to bring herself lower into the water. Now, it rose up beyond her flanks, and only a strip of her silver-flecked spine remained above the water, along with the top of her head. She shuddered softly against the cold, but told herself that this was just a better way to treat the inflammation of her injuries. 

She shivered when he spoke, as though stirred by the vibrations of his brassy tones. She had to lift her muzzle a fragment, in order to speak without simply making bubbles in the water. In a peep, hardly louder than a cricket's chirrup, she spoke. "Oryx."

'Oryx'

Greyback tested the name on his lips, echoing it back into the soft silence of the forest with a humble smile. She seemed shy, scared even, and he was perplexed to see her softly sinking into the water, her body nearly disappearing save for her head and spine. Did she wish for privacy? Or was it his presence?

Greyback often felt guilty for how he appeared to others. While regal, he knew he could be quite intimidating with his size and large scar plastered across his muzzle... But regardless— He remained still, expression unbreaking as he stared down at her. It was almost as it she was a porgy, or perhaps a drowned bird—making small wakes at the surface with her shivers. "You'll catch your death if you stay in there any longer." he offered, taking a step back to move up to the higher bank, tail flicking behind him. "[b]Do you need help?"

[/b]

When he brought attention to the coldness of the water, she shivered again. How long had he been watching her? The water had not seemed this cold before...But then again, she was nearly completely submerged, which she had not planned on doing as she too knew that it was still early in the Spring to be spending a lot of time in the stream. He offered assistance but she shook her head, perhaps a bit too vehemently. She reminded herself not to be rude, and that she shouldn't fear her own packmates. "No, thank you, I-" She said, and began to stand up on her own, bit one of her little paws slipped on a smoothe stone and she fell back into the water, bumping her chin on another rock which caused her teeth to clack together audibly. Her breath hissed past her lips and she tried again, more slowly this time, and stood. 

Dripping wet, with her fur flat against her sides, she realized yet again how petite she must look to a man of his stature, and how pathetic, as well. She hadn't intended to be caught in such a vulnerable state. She wondered what he thought, seeing this new packmate for the first time- so tiny, so frail and in a worthless state. But he had kindly stepped back, allowing her the space to slowly, gingerly, pick her way toward the bank. She sent a glance in his direction, assessing the distance between them- and set to shake the water from her pelt- but as soon as she twisted in preparation for her shake she felt a jolt of pain slip down her ribcage with the keen edge of a scythe. "Willow," she croaked, as she straightened stiffly. She couldn't bear the jarring motion of a shake just yet. "There must be some nearby?" She asked.

Her voice was soft, sweet. Nearly hard to hear given the distance between and the rustling of the forest around them. Greyback nodded to her, catching her thanks and moved farther up the bank, turning away. Until, that is, that he heart the splash, the clash of clenched teeth, and the pained hiss the little bird let out.

Instantly turning, the beast looked back at her with a raised brow, his paw poised out to take a step towards her until she slowly made her way up to him—gingerly. He stared at her in suffocating silence, breath slow as he took in her small frame and pained movement. What had happened to her? Was she sick? Valette had not informed him of such....

He walked close to her knowing to touch was forbidden, but perhaps it was him trying his best to comfort her; to offer any sort of help. But then a word, hushed and silent nearly like before. Willow. Greyback blinked at that, caught in the moment of why this stranger was speaking of his daughter till he realized that perhaps she meant the plant.

The Easthollian wasn't familiar with medicinals and magics, the trickery and sorcery of their ways. He often saw such tasks carried out by women in his childhood. But no matter, he turned around and scouted along the bank, looking up at the trees. "Bark or moss?"

The stony male walked near her side, making Oryx feel even smaller than usual. Even his paws were twice the size of hers- there was something bearlike about them, but she found herself endeared to him, for having such a gentleness about him despite possessing such obvious power. But with him near her, she could notice then, the faintest hitch in his step. A sidelong glance caught the silvering of fur in a pattern that she knew now was a physical expression of age. He wasn't a young buck or a new king- but a wise patriarch. In her mind's eye, she could picture him with all the gentleness of a lamb, when surrounded by pups. 

"Bark." She said. Moss? Best used for cooling down a wound, or getting water on something that needed to be cleaned, but she wasn't sure it had much purpose when ingested other than hydration. "Should be easy to strip off willow saplings. They tend to grow- there," She gestured, as she caught sight of a tree ahead of them, which had bent to allow its long, thin branches to trail into the water. "They grow alongside water," She said, finishing her earlier statement.

'Bark,'

The man nodded as he continued his pacing. He was a bit lost on which trees were which—their branches looking all the same to his old eyes, their leaves mixed in the same hue, and scent dulled, but with the direction pointed out by Oryx the patriarch was quick to figure it out. A long, spindly kind was growing along the bank, just as she had said, and with it's thin branches it was easy to deviate from the rest. "Ah, I see," he murmured.

Lifting a rather large paw, the Easthollian scraped gently across the bark, his nails itching the top and slicing thin strips of willow bark off where he collected them within his mouth. The bark had a rather bitter taste, stinging his tongue and making him clear his throat in discomfort. He was new to this, and while a younger might have a firm touch, the man's was rather shaky and he ended up making scraggily strips.

He wondered how much was enough, and with a glance back to the dark female he noticed that perhaps what he had collected was enough. Smiling, he made his way back to her, dropping the paw-full of medicine down before nosing it to her gently, his tongue lapping at his lips afterward in attempt to smear the taste off.

And then it occurred to him what he had just done; Greyback prayed the gods would not be angered by his actions of tampering with something unakin to their own powers, that perhaps they would see his good actions and thoughts and give mercy. He was just a man helping a packmate, not a witch. He twitched his ear, looking up at the sky around, attempting to see any disturbance in the sky that might signify their wrath. "I have never been one interested in magics... Is this something you practice often? "

She was surprised he was so quick to coluntarily fetch the bark for her- and for a moment, she wondered if he knew medicines. He had, after all, differentiated between a request for moss versus bark, but as she saw him reach up with a paw to scrape the bark, she tilted her head to the side. He managed to scrape the bark off, but a practiced medic would know that the thin saplings growing at the base of the tree would have softer, greener bark that could be pulled off in strips had he used his teeth. The bark he brought for her was a bit harder than what she might've chosen, but knowing that it would work, and that she didn't want to offend her helpful packmate, she smiled thankfully and accepted the short, curled pieces of bark, crunching through them to make them as small as possible before she swallowed them. 

She licked her lips several times, trying to get rid of the mildly numbing sensation and the unpleasant flavour they left behind, but lifted her head and stilled when he called medicine magic. She smiled, albeit with a furrowed brow, expressing a bit of surprise and concern. He looked somewhat nervous, which she assumed might be related to the fact that he believed they were doing something that could be considered wrong. Odd, she thought- for a wolf who lived in a pack that practically worshipped a circle of stones that resembled a Faerie's circle. 

"It's no magic; it's natural." She said, hoping to reassure him. "We eat when we are hungry to satisfy our stomachs and give ourselves energy. We drink when we are thirsty, so we do not get dehydrated. And when we get sick, we must treat ourselves in order to survive." She said. She'd noticed that his gaze had been drawn toward the sky, so she tipped her muzzle toward him. "You are a religious man?" She asked, then, assuming he worried about angering whoever or whatever it was that he believed in.

i am SO sorry for the late reply!

The man watched at the dark woman accepted the bark, his eyes trailing and logging in the formation in his brain for keepsake later. He was happy to help, but even more so shocked to hear that it wasn't magic.

Raising his brows, he stared at her as if she sprouted another head, "Not magic?" He questioned. How could it be not magic? He listened as she explained. It made sense to him, but he was still a bit weary of the new-found information. "I see..." He hummed, looking down at the remnants of the medicine.

"And that I am. I believe my mate is connected to the stones as well. What of you?" He questioned once more. He was eager to know if she too believed in the gods. If she did he would love to tell her of the stones, but did not see problem if she was not following in his paw-steps. She was rather new, and Easthollow was rather old.

Oryx found magic difficult to believe- and as far as she knew, it wasn't something that was worth being trifled with. The supernatural could be evil, and as a fearful wolf, she felt best that such things were to be avoided in order to avoid tempting something that could harm her or anyone around her. She believed that in the same way food provided energy and health, herbs could help heal woulds and ease pain when consumed. To some extent, it was that same logic that led her to conclude that herbivores must be healthy beings, given all the herbs and grasses they ate. This led to the belief that predators existed to keep herbivores balanced, and to keep them from overpopulating the world. It made sense in her mind- though it was neither science nor religion that led her to believe those things...And it certainly wasn't magic. 

Religion seemed to perk his interest and she made a note of that. He referenced the stones, and Valette- and Oryx had to concentrate for a moment to keep her hackles from rising. She'd found those stones to be unnatural and odd- they stood out...And how Valette prized them made Oryx believe that the pack- at least in part- might possibly worship those stones. She knew she would disappoint him- and she felt that she might already be under a bit of suspicion, given the fact that Valette knew nothing about where Oryx had come from, only that she'd been wounded to an extent which would've mean the end of her had she not been so well cared for. And now, faced with questions about magic and religion...She felt herself becoming even more of an outsider within the pack. 

But lying had never been her strong suit. She frowned, and her gaze fell toward her paws, still dark and slightly damp. "I am not so sure." She admitted in a quiet voice. "But...I believe in a...'live and let live' philosophy," She said, hoping that this might at least be somewhat of a consolation. Even though they did not necessarily believe in the same things, she would still respect and be mindful of his beliefs and thoughts. She faltered for a moment, before she added: "Well...As long as no one gets hurt." While she would respect the beliefs of others, she did not agree with inflicting pain as punishment- and was vehemently against the idea of sacrifice.

As he waited for a reply the elder let his eyes slide up to the ebony wolf's face. To his surprise he saw her frown slightly before looking down at her paws. Greyback couldn't help but feel as if he had upset her, and intentionally and rather quickly offered an apology. "My apologies, I did not mean to be so brash," he spoke, taking note of her quiet tone.

"It is alright if you don't. I wasn't always a religious man—But it seems we share some similarities of belief, yes?" He questioned. "I was a pacifist once, sworn under oath till I came here." He chuckled. It had seemed like a lifetime had passed since he showed up on the snowy borders of the hollow, ragged and tired from a long journey.

"I found that such a lifestyle was hard to maintain when I had something worth protecting." He smiled. The elder wouldn't dare let anyone touch his family or pack without getting through him. So much had happened; Leta, Valette, Blondine Indra. He hadn't been there to save them all, and in a way it had scared his heart. He couldn't imagine what may have come if he held onto upholding his old beliefs. "Do you have something worth protecting, Miss Oryx?"

She was surprised at his sudden apology, and opened her mouth to reassure him when he continued, so she quietly, politely, let him finish. She felt relief, when she realized that he did not judge her for not being religious. She'd been worried and frightened that she might be seen as a bad influence, or perhaps simply someone who'd come to the wrong place if she didn't openly admit that she would be willing to accept whatever religion it was that the Easthollow wolves had as her own. So to his question, he received a thoughtful look, and a slight nod. She wasn't sure, still, what- or who- he believed in...But morally, he seemed to be a kind, considerate and respectful man. A man who openly admitted that he had fears- but who would move quickly so as to chase hers away. Perhaps...Maybe she needn't be so suspicious...

She was given a moment to wonder, though, what would follow once he claimed to have been a pacifist before coming to Easthollow...And a moment was just enough for Oryx to fill her mind with anxiety, wondering what had happened to make him abandon those principles. A war? An argument? A fight? A change in beliefs? Perhaps his religion wasn't as harmless after all- but yet again, he dashed away her swift, irrational negativity by simply implying that he would do whatever it took in order to protect his family. She assumed this meant his children. This was something she could understand. He hadn't willingly allowed violence into his life- but he would use force in order to protect the lives of those he cared about. Her expression softened. She told herself to stop projecting her fears onto him; it wasn't fair for her to jump to conclusions, when Greyback presented himself clearly as a warm, caring and loyal individual. She drew in a breath, and sighed softly, releasing a bit of the tension she hadn't realized she'd been building up.

That is, of course, until he posed a question that made her stiffen, and stare at the ground with a somewhat sharp, yet vacant stare. She flattened her ears, as though admiting to a fault, like a child found cornered, guilty and ashamed. 

The only thing she had in her possession to protect was her own life...She had tried to destroy it. 

Unwilling to speak, she shook her head the tiniest bit, and it weakened her, so, to admit that she still did not feel that her own life was worth protecting. She felt bad knowing that she was presently a waste of resources; that she had nothing to offer. She did not have a means to repay Valette for giving her somewhere to stay and heal, without even knowing what had happened to her. Perhaps Valette might have turned her away, if she'd only known that Oryx hadn't intended to survive in the first place- and perhaps Greyback might see fit to judge her unstable, and unworthy of their protection. So in a tiny voice, trembling lightly, she spoke. "I will repay my debt." And admitting that presently, the only thing she felt was worth keeping herself alive, was to repay the kindness that the Easthollow wolves had offered.

The man watched her with amber eyes, a silent expression as she drew in a breath and relaxed.

Only to visibly tense again with the flattening of her ears.

Raising a brow, he continued to look at her. What was going on in the mind of the young lady? Was it the pain? Was it his question? He watched as she shook her head in a solemn movement. She seemed down, sad even, and something in the way she handled herself in such a moment reminded him of Vespera. "Well then," he spoke, tilting his head to her. "Perhaps you may repay that favor by finding somethng worth protecting," he chuckled.

He didn't do right by Vespera. He didn't try to understand; This time would be different.

Getting up and groaning at the creaking of his bones, the old man twitched his tail and looked down at the black girl. "I believe I should take my leave now, I'm sure someone is looking for me. Good Night, miss Oryx. May the moon guide your path the morrow." he heeded... And with that the Patriarch turned around to walk back into the shadows, his frame obscured and disappearing within sight.

Her heart raced as she awaited judgement, though no harsh words came. His tone was gentle, though she did feel as though she was receiving constructive criticism, which fell flat on the woman who needed so desperately simply to hear that things would be alright. She was terrified that she might have to explain herself- but the words needed to come out, and she needed to be understood...But he did not prompt her to release some of her secrets and rid herself of a few demons. Instead, he chose to leave. 

And she wouldn't stop him, nor could she judge him for turning and leaving her when she was so visibly shaken and full of turmoil. She held her breath, and simply nodded in response, watching him disappear into the darkness with no more than a side-eye. She was determined to hold her breath until she felt he was out of earshot- and while her instincts begged her to breathe, she refused to do so. She knew if she let herself breathe now, she would probably hyperventilate. She clenched her jaw and remained frozen to the spot- holding her breath until the whole world turned black and she slumped to the ground. 

She would wake up only seconds later, slightly dizzy, but quick to recover. With a new proverbial thorn in her side, she would crawl back to her provided denspace and attempt to sleep off her pain and shame in solitude.