Firefly Glen but here i dreamt i was an architect

He crossed over the border between the glen and the mountain with ease, long strides carrying him with purpose. Though the details of all were sketchy at best, Mira had returned to them finally, no worse for wear for all that could have rendered itself. He sought @Osiris today, first of all to tell him the good news, and secondly to see how things were coming along with the glen.

There was a sense of pride that captured him as he roved through the foothills and into the woods—never had he thought the vision that he and Hydra had crafted in private and oft tongue-in-cheek would come to fruition. Along the same theme he would have never envisioned one of his own children wanting to take up the station, but Osiris already seemed to command ambition and loyalty far more easily and swiftly than his father. No doubt this was a trait from his mother, Dirge wagered as he crossed over a narrow brook.

His nose worked at the scents of familiarity; the majority of the wolves here came from Moonspear itself, though he thought there were others in the mix too. Osiris wasn’t far off though, and the knavish king would find him shortly.

Tags for reference!

Osiris had followed the recent scent-trail of a deer for most of the morning. The track led him through the glen and towards the foothills, guiding him to an unexpected treasure: fresh droppings. He caught sight of them from a distance, noticing the vapor that rose from the pile dancing in the mid-morning light. He advanced towards the stool with long, motivated strides, already thinking about who he could summon to pursue the herd further; @Atlas, @Antares, and @Bronco were all quick to come to mind. 

Once he stood over the heap, Osiris promptly dropped and rolled his shoulder into the warm dung. He wasn't entirely sure how long his companions would be, but he wanted to better prepare them by (literally) picking up the prey's scent.

When he found Osiris finally, the boy was firmly rolling himself through a less than pleasant thing. It wasn’t enough to make Dirge cringe, of course—after all, they were wolves and prone to such things. It was more of the lack of composure Osiris had in that moment as he rolled, for once he seemed truly at ease and relaxed. Happier, perhaps, though he couldn’t quite recall a time when his son had been down for a lengthy period. Concerned, maybe, but never so deeply that it outward showed itself.

With a sly smile crossing his face, he offered him a chuff in greeting.

“Roll in that too long and you’ll be wearing it as a hairstyle for a while,” he chided in jest. It wasn’t terribly fresh, which may have been a blessing. No sense in him coating himself with it and needing a bath pronto… and from the smell of things at least the deer were eating decently. It prompted him to amend: “I see you all haven’t chased the deer out yet either.”

"Dad," he greeted upon hearing Dirge's chuff, edging into the pile once more for good measure. He stood then, a sly smile spreading across his lips as he turned to face his father. "Don't you know that this is the new style?" he quipped, tail waving slowly at his hocks. He hadn't anticipated seeing him so soon, and it was a pleasant surprise. "All the youngins are wearing it—"

"—and I can help you with it," he teased, wriggling his stained shoulder.

“I think I’m good,” he murmured, considering a side-step only to avoid any chance Osiris might have had at sharing the wealth he had found. No sense in getting himself shooed away from Hydra later if she decided deer droppings weren’t fashionable. Not to mention the youngest at home would have even more questions than they were already loading up into their verbal arsenal.

“I actually came down to tell you some good news—Mira’s home,” he went on to offer, knowing that line alone would bait Osiris out of coating him. Or at least he hoped so. “And I wanted to see how things were coming along here too. Are you too busy?” Doubtful, surely rolling in droppings wouldn’t take up his entire day… unless they had made a grave error in judgment.

Dirge—understandably—refused the offer that Osiris had offered in jest; he couldn't imagine his family appreciating their father returning to the rendezvous with his pelt caked with dung. 

The news of Mira's return came as a pleasant surprise, and he felt some of the weight off of his shoulders lift. "That's such a relief," he breathed, "She's doing alright, right?" He assumed she was, given the fact that his father was reporting her return in person. 

"No, I've got time," Osiris replied. "Things are going well enough down here—our borders are being established, and we're seeing fewer strangers." It was positive progress.

There, that had changed the tone; though it seemed with the majority of his children, it was still easy to manipulate. Not that needed done often, of course. He nodded an affirmation about Mira—she would be fine, in time. She may have been a little rough around the edges and possibly shook up a bit, but if there was anything that he knew about her temperament, she would bounce back. Of his youngest, she seemed to have the most nefariousness about her, at least in some regard.

“Fewer strangers, that’s good,” he rejoined. “Hopefully they weren’t too much trouble to chase off, unless they decided to join our cause and save their hides for the coming winter.” A knavish smile pulled at the edges of his lips, though faint. He was certain they too would see their share of wolves approaching the mountain as the chill in the air grew stronger; the mountain peaks were already long snow-capped and ready. It wouldn’t be long now, he thought, before that snow powdered more than just the reaches they did not dare to climb.

Osiris nodded in agreement; they had been lucky, and their border interactions had been relatively easy. "Some have decided to join," he reported, thinking of Luna in particular. Upon remembering the hand-full of interplays, he thought of one situation in particular: the time that Jackalope had happened upon their claim. 

"There was one situation, though, that stands out to me in particular—a Neverwinter wolf named Jackalope tried to stir up some trouble," he began, feeling his nape-hairs life at the recollection of the encounter. "He tried to threaten me, and he looked at Leta like she was prey. Like he owned her, or something," and that had been his main concern; threats were nothing without action, but Jackalope had acted as though Leta was his.

“Oh?” The single word hovered in the answer as Osiris elaborated further on the events that had unfolded. It was troubling, but only briefly, as it had evidently sorted itself out one way or another. He wondered for a moment if Mal was aware of such a creature in his ranks, but thought better of drawing a point to it—he hadn’t the best of luck in reaching his own accord with the mottled leader of Neverwinter in the past.

“Lad sounds a bit unhinged,” he commented, “did Leta know him?” The girl didn’t seem of the sort to keep that kind of company, but he also couldn’t have claimed to know her as well as his son either. He certainly didn’t have interest in her like Osiris did either, but what he did know of Leta was that she, for all purposes, seemed to possess a kind heart and level head.

"He was," Osiris agreed with a huff. "There were times that it was hard to keep my wits about me, but I did," he added, reassuring Dirge with a wag of his tail; he didn't want his father to think that he was incapable of handling loiterers—especially the ones that managed to push his buttons. 

To the next question, he shook his head. "No, I don't think she did," he remembered how keen she'd been to keep things amicable between the gathered wolves. "She's very friendly, though, and seemed just to want to keep things peaceful, which was appreciated." He smiled involuntarily at the thought of her.

Interesting, but not much more beyond that expect the attention that his son drew to Leta in his tone. Dirge knew it for what it was and felt the inclination to pull at the loose strand of the tapestry his son wove, but knew better. Too much probing would push him away at the very least, if he was any sort of reserved; it was what Dirge would have done, to say the least. He had kept quiet of his own heritage, his own family at that, for years. Even with his trust in Hydra, he did not speak and she did not ask, though it hardly mattered at all now.

Keres and Nyx, he knew and feared, had far looser lips than he.

They had embraced a lineage he only passed on and never claimed for himself.

“It’s good that you have wolves with you that you can trust,” he said, “and ones that are not your brothers. It sounds like things are coming together for you, and for us.” It was absolute trust in them that would strength the efforts and endeavors that Osiris undertook, but it pleased him that his son could earn the loyalty of unrelated support. It was promising; it bolstered the notion that they could safely expand their demense and that a tongue-in-cheek comment was a feasible, tangible goal.

“So other than that, things are well then? I know others have been coming and going to help where they can, which is partially why I find myself here instead of trying to evade your younger siblings,” he went on, another thin smile to his features.

Sorry for the wait!

 
Things were coming together, and soon they'd be able to officially claim Firefly Glen. "I'm grateful for the support," Osiris said, thinking of everybody who had backed him so far; he was aware that wouldn't be where he was without them. 

"Things are going well, for the most part, besides that," Osiris replied then, considering everything that had happened since he had last seen Dirge. "We've had some issues with badgers, but we've been making quick work of chasing them out," he reported, thinking of the striped vermin with scorn. "I'm not too bothered by them—we'll get them out in due time," already, he had noticed there were less of them. 

"How about you? And Moonspear?" he asked next. "How's everything back at home?"

"Things are better now that your sister is home," he rejoined lightly. He would take a moment of respite where he could get it, though it was just as well to say that his work was never quite done. Osiris would learn this too if he had not, but Dirge believed his son would take to it far better than he ever had. Perhaps if not for Hydra, he would have ventured to calmer, better pastures to lay his own claim.

Or at least, he may have—Moonspear had become home in many senses of the word.

"Is there anything I could help out with? Maybe a good patrol of the borders?"

Tags are for reference!

It was good to hear that things were better, and he didn't press further. He trusted that Dirge would relay if there was anything else that important to know.  

"A patrol would be nice," he replied. "Though, if we do find @Bronco or @Toad along the way, I'd like to share this with them," he wiggled the shoulder where he had rolled in the prey-droppings. "And wash off after that." He didn't anticipate his father having any objections, as he imagined that he smelled lovely.

With an agenda set, Osiris and Dirge began to skirt the territory's outskirts. He never did happen across either of the packmates that he had mentioned, and carried out their patrol with a deuce-caked shoulder.