Lion Head Mesa you didn't think that i'd come back alive

for @Maegi , whenever you have time!

The life of luxury was good for Charles. He enjoyed being pampered, bathed, taken care of in every way he wanted. He didn't deserve any of this, didn't fully understand how it had come to him, but he was certainly going to enjoy it while it lasted. in his experience, it did not usually last very long.

The coywolf was in his fur-covered room, laying on softness while he tore through a delicate piece of bird, caught particularly for him, as if it was a BigMac. He tore into the flesh and left pieces on the bone as if it meant nothing; for the scavengers, which he now no longer was. Already Charles felt a haze of berries — oh, how he loved the berries, because they made him numb, if only for a little while — and there were yet more piled in the corner of his beautiful rooms.

He didn't deserve any of it, and he loathed himself for taking it all anyway, but he was sure going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Five days since her failed attempt at ridding herself of pestilence, and Maegi walked the halls slowly, body and soul aching to the core. She passed by one room and did a double take, backing up to see the young man from the shores of Otter Creek lying there, feasting, ravenous.

Those eyes. . .

She chuffed, and set foot inside the threshold, taking a couple steps before pausing to leave some distance between them.

I don't think we've met, she said. Not officially. But you seem familiar to me— She shook her head slowly. Might as well chalk it up to the inexorable march of time and aging.

She'd known many faces. Wasn't it a given that they would blend together eventually?

I am Maegi. Maegi Blackfeather, she elaborated, watching his countenance to see if the name sparked anything within it.

Someone passed by his room and she entered it in the end. Charles' ears perked forward as she did and said that they had not been introduced. She said that he looked familiar to her, though Charles of course had no idea what from. Familiar? he asked, blinking owlishly. From what? Had they met somewhere? Perhaps at the Saints?

She then introduced herself as Maegi Blackfeather. Fancy, with a last name and all. Charles immediately wished he had one himself, but of course, he did not. I'm Charles, he said in the end. Uh, a Prince. That was the best title he could add.

Your eyes, Maegi replied, without hesitation. Nothing about what he offered struck familiarity. He should have been a stranger. But looking upon his gaunt form and hollow gaze, she—

No.

Her mind was playing tricks.

Your parents? she asked, cocking her head at one last try. After a negative response, she'd abandon it.

They were packmates. Colleagues. Fellow nobles, in this strange, haphazard pack on the mesa.

Charles felt a little uneasy, the way she stared at him and mentioned his eyes. He wasn't sure if she was hitting on him or if there was something else. The berries didn't help his ability to analyse the situation, either.

What of my eyes? he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice; as if he was being accused of something and the accusation was warranted.

His parents? Charles blinked rapidly, mouth dry suddenly, as he thought of his mother. From Easthollow. Just a -- just a mother. He sounded hurt, as if she'd just told him that he was an idiot or otherwise had insulted him. The subject of parents was clearly not one dear to him.

He was defensive. Naturally. She'd been vague enough as to cause concern. They remind me of someone, but I can't think of who, Maegi replied. Old woman brain. Faces and names lost in the swirling ether. She didn't suppose she'd ever find the answer in there.

A mother, she repeated, and shrugged, adding—having caught his tone—I didn't think much of mine, either.

She cocked her head, turning the twisted side of her face away in old habit. What brought you here? she asked. I saw you lingering near my old home, days ago.

Charles knew that he didn't have his mother's eyes, and he could not help but wonder if that meant they were his father's. Maybe he was someone that Maegi knew? Charles had never thought much about his father at all; not until someone pointed out that he must have been a coyote. Then, he had hated his father, because it was what made him different. Now, though, he could feel the anticipation of someone knowing his father — actually knowing him! — and Charles felt his stomach churn in desire to know more.

He didn't realise how obvious he had been when he had mentioned his mother. He almost immediately felt the urge to defend her, but he swallowed the words back. He rather just not talk about her. Forget she existed.

What brought him here; now, there was an interesting question. I don't know, Charles admitted. Ramesses. I use to know him. He told me to come back. I don't know why I did it, but I did it. That place is the last place I saw him before I left. But now that I'm here, it is nice here, with enough food and drinks and berries —
His breath caught as he realised that he must sound like some drunk, mentioning berries third, And baths, ah...