Redtail Rise feuersturm

perhaps a @Stag to tag along, if u have time <3

mahler had not cared for the plains, bordered on the left by a swollen, reeking marsh, and on the right by a naked swathe of scree. this place too, he recalled, for in the distance he remembered the place where takiyok had suffered her first loss.
refusing to be caught at by grief from another time, mahler gratefully climbed the gentle slope of a wet rise. previously blackened trunks swam with bright new greenery, traceries of wildflowers, and in the distance, a beautiful mountain with dark emerald slopes. "vhat a sight," he muttered to himself, though loud enough to be heard.

<3

Ever since they had left Sawtooth, it had rained.

At first Stag took it as a slight annoyance. A trifle to be dealt with. But as patience waned and emotions ran hot, Stag became frustrated, and tired, and surprisingly, cold to his bones. Traveling in the rain had made him and others poor company, and in this hour he was morosely traveling alongside Mahler when the General stopped and surveyed the mist that hung around the shoulders of distant emerald slopes.

Stag wished he found the view pretty too. He found it foreign and hatefully unfamiliar. He found it taxing. He worried for Phaedra the most, routinely swinging back to see how she was doing and see if somewhere, the elusive Caintigern lingered. His gaze swept down the rugged slope of mountain sourly, but his tone did not depict the tiredness in his eyes. "How much further, Mahler?"

stag seemed to have aged somewhat upon their journey. his life had never quite been easy, including their time upon sawtooth. the man pressed on with his rangy step, not yet sure how to answer. the rise here would have been habitable were it not for the visible puddles of rain collected, which suggested that this lower environs might be unsafe.
"do you see the mountain, there?" the gargoyle grunted, jerking his wet muzzle in that direction. "i am interested in stopping vhen ve get to that point." this locale would make for passable hunting grounds, but mahler had become accustomed to the mountains, and to the rock ledges he wished to return.

Mahler might have said not much further at all, and even still, Stag would have his reservations. His tired gaze focused on the distant peaks, which were rife with dark emerald and shadowgreen. Another mountain range leagues away, and diluted by rolling mists from rainclouds high above.

Stag wondered if this mountain would be any safer. Any better. And for how long would it be safer? A few times he had wondered if they were followed, but any time he hung back and looped their tracks he found no scent of a pursuer.

Maybe what was following them was simply bad luck.

"A few days time, then?" Stag had a green eye for measuring distances, and looked to Mahler for affirmation he was right or wrong. "Are we better off in mountains than anywhere else?" While both questions had been genuine this one came with an edge; Stag truly had no perspective outside of living on mountainous regions.

"about two," he grunted. stag had proven himself in many ways since before they departed sagtannet; mahler thankfully dropped the veneer of distance he used to cushion his words to the young. the boy was youthful, but he had earned the respect of mahler answering him as anyone else.
"i think vith the rain, yes," the gargoyle sighed. "vylla says the stream vhere ve vonce lived is swollen, ruined. unsafe. it is best to be high until these long storms pass." that was his reasoning for such, after all; he blinked through the droplets toward stag, shook out his ruff no matter how futile it might be. "how do you feel about sagtannet taking allies this time?"

Two days. It wasn't a long time in the scheme of things, but boy did those two days feel like an insurmountable length of time to Stag. They were already roadworn, and caring after the puppies as they moved was especially tiring. Stag couldn't wait until the night he could lay his head on the pine needles and really sleep.

Pulled from such wishful thinking by the watchful eye of Mahler, Stag followed the general's gesture and shook out his laden ruff. A similar sigh pressed from his lips as he was tasked with thinking. He trusted Mahler -- and Wylla -- to do the heavy-weight lifting when it came to critical thought. Often he felt he was too young and experienced to make a good judgment call, and dreaded giving Mahler the wrong answer. It was too bad about the stream, but he agreed that it seemed safest to be on high ground.

"Do you think an ally would actually help us? We didn't ever need one before, did we?"

"ve never did," he confirmed, drawing away from the boy to continue his perusal of the ridgeline. mahler found enjoyment in speaking with stag as an equal; it was a role he had once believed praimfaya might fit. the earlier thought of training both the young wolves as future leadership had been appealing, but mahler had been incorrect in his assessment of her.
stag perhaps, though he was not ready, and mahler still expected that one day, perhaps in the springtime, the pale mountaineer might go off to seek his way and a mate.
a sentimental, fatherly thought. "it is more that i think ve vill be far more visible here. not tucked avay in the peaks as before. it may do us vell to know who is around."

Stag peered at the ridgeline after Mahler, unaware of the esteemed thoughts occupying the general. His own heart panged for Praimfaya's absence -- he had looked up to the girl (no, woman) despite their similar ages -- she had been everything he was not.. And in the end, that had been all the difference -- for he was here, and she was not.

He didn't care for being more visible here. Stag hadn't loved Sawtooth for its ranges, but he had become accustomed to feeling protected by its fanglike walls. Now they were on a more habitable mountain, and for all of its verdant ranges and deep valleys, he felt they were more vulnerable than before.

"Do you want me to go, and look around?" Stag had once been afraid of leaving Sagtannet -- but time had a way of changing and reshaping the mold. Now, he had walked hundreds of miles -- and since this was not home to him (not yet, anyway), he would not feel afraid of leaving its ranges this time.

a surprising, pleasant suggestion from stag. "yes," mahler answered after a moment, watching the boy with a proud lilt to his expression. wishing to add more instruction, he held his tongue. stag was not a baby; he was a young man, past boyhood, not yet to the years of being a man. but he did not need step-by-step guidance. that he wished to go at all was satisfying to mahler.
"i vill stay here and continue to look over things," the eisen grunted. his thoughts briefly aligned with that of stag for a moment; it was more open here, but in all directions, mahler felt there was more visibility also for sagtannet to see oncomers. "i shall join you soon?" the gargoyle quieted, allowing the yearling to respond.

Stag did not miss the subtle surprise in Mahler's mein, but he did not know the reason for it, and so discarded the intuition with a wave of his tail in silent agreement.

So it was, he would scout the ranges -- not well, mind you, given he had little experience out of home -- but he was old enough now, and he had warily dipped his toes enough times to trust the water was not too cold or the the hills too steep. He would see what he could see, and would report back.

He dipped his head in acceptance. In that moment his cool resolve might have mirrored that of his deceased father, were Stigmata still alive. What he liked about Mahler, was that this man did not coddle him with soft speech or prattle on; in that vein, Stag wished very much to be like the general.

Stag took one glance back towards Mahler; Yes, I will see you soon -- and then he was off at a steady trot for the foothills.

<3

the boy set off, and mahler watched him finally with a great pride in his own step as he turned away from the shrinking alabaster figure to his own devices. stag had grown upon their journey, mahler considered, and began to think of the young man's future, as was the meandering of older males, wondering how best to guide their youthful charges toward manhood.