Blackfoot Forest i. please be gentle,

the cloudberry flitted through the trees, steps light in spite of the hitch in her gait. the cries of fox fell upon the flicker of her tawny ears as brother sun reached for the horizon, casting the tangled silhouettes of the dark forest into shadow. the temperature dipped with the encroaching nightfall and fading sun. the doe jerked instinctively, just beginning to turn her head as if to tug closer a shawl of fur that no longer hung there. 

this was the event that startled her from her reverie of the forest and gave her pause. freezing, she felt a familiar panic overtake her. aiwë squinted, as if psychically straining to conjure whatever spark had ignited within her mind. 

a sigh whispered through her frame. 

pressing on, the four-year weaved slowly through the ever darkening forest. a small clearing, along a footpath that had overgrown with roots and undergrowth, revealed itself. there was a hollowed dug-out within the earth, beneath the splintered remains of a fallen tree that had rotten through with time. 

dusky nose lowered and a paw shifted inquisitively, as if it might've once lifted from the ground when the herd-stalker had the full control of all limbs. delicate breaths whuffed from deep in her chest but the odors were stale, decidedly not canid. with a careful and stiff dip, the nuiruk slipped beneath and into the abandoned ulaq.

broken artifacts remained to tell a story. 

bone chips. dirty stones that might've been arranged in some way, a time before aiwë. the rotted scraps of furs and hides. 

the wren cast a slow, emerald gaze about, features softening to something akin to grief as her eyes burned. 

quite suddenly, the woman half-doubled over, sucking in a sharp breath as pain exploded in a lightning burst through her skull. 

a man cloaked in white, the two silent as death as they scraped away the ruins. 

splatters of carefully crafted tinctures and dyes slashed against the walls. 

heat of humiliation heavy as it bloomed in her cheeks. 

a cold gaze of mahogany. 

with a shudder, the botanist sucked in a deep breath and lowered -- hunkering as her ears pressed flat to her skull. shaking her head violently, a wild creature consuming her bloodstream, she backed out of the crypt and wheeled away as fast as her scarred form could take her. 

she fled until the spirits could no longer reach her.

panting, her eyes darted wildly as if searching for the answers of unspoken turmoil within the trees.

instead, pale jade landed upon the blooming growth of a simple cluster of daffodils. 

the blossoms had just begun to open but sagged beneath the weight of recent rains and unreliable temperatures. 

aiwë stared at them for longer than she knew. then, suddenly, she set off into the woods in search of moss -- all thoughts of the night and resting utterly forgotten in her newfound mission.

It wasn't often that the silent watcher was away from the pack lands. But a new feeling had been emerging lately and he sought to release the tension from his pack mates beyond their river bend borders.  He didn't know what grief ailed them all, only that it was palatable, even with new life blooming.

 New children to raise and watch. And more on the way. There was a sadness to Riverclan and he didn't like it. He had known given the way he had met Crow that the man was burdened, but it was even worse now. And Silvertongue, sweet dainty thing that had laughed so easily. Her spark was dulled and he couldn't help, but blame the man who had randomly shown up at their borders.

And Sandy didn't like to lay blame. So he instead moved. He had been hunting and foraging. Filling caches. Mostly rabbits, some squirrels and ferrets and weasels. Today he was on the trail of perhaps goat or deer. If they were small enough, he was fairly certain that his size could help him.

Yellow eyes traced the greenery as he walked. Into the forest. Shadows danced along the tree tops and dipped down between the leaves. Smattering of sunshine dappled the loamy underfoot and it bathed along the fire of his four paws. He took a moment to inspect an old fox hole perhaps and then he continued on his way.

the dove ambled slowly amongst the shadows, the familiar aches and pains burning through her joints. silent crepitation ground beneath her flesh and the paintwolf allowed herself a grimace of pain as she stopped to examine a bed of spongy moss creeping along the forest floor. 

she gripped it gingerly between her jaws and gave a slow flick of her chin, tearing away a small portion of the growth with care. it was a satisfying act, akin to peeling away dead skin or scratching away at a scab. it soothed the frayed nerves still alight within her. 

the wind shifted just then, bringing with it the new scent of another. 

for a moment, aiwë deliberated -- weight shifting slightly as her good ear flickered. 

at last, she pattered quietly in the direction she'd come from. the scent was what settled her. the mother was quite aware that she could be wrong in drawing near to it. but it reminded her something of home. beneath the cologne of male lay the cool scent of woodland, a scent of spring days fishing in streams and sunning dry upon pebbled banks. riverbeds and the warm, alive perfume that rose from the trees beneath the sun's kiss. 

they crossed paths on her trek back to the daffodils. 

aiwë stopped when the he-wolf's dark frame emerged from the lengthening shadows. peridots dashed against citrine for a moment before they shifted, dropping to settle on a fixed point at the man's ember tinted ruff. 

a soft noise escaped around the clump of moss as she dipped unsteadily to rest it by her paws. 

"i greet you," the sparrow rasped as she straightened, her own voice a startle to her auds. she could not recall the last time she'd spoken.

her head dipped slightly, deferring to ingrained tradition that called for showing any wolf of a village due respect. one never knew when they'd wandered into another tribe's hunting lands. 

the movement of her lips tugged at the taut scar tissue that followed the curve of her cheek -- gained when she'd slid down the mountain, leaving the gouges of scrapes and scratches along the left side of her body. aiwë turned just so, angling the scars and bear-mark away from his sight subconsciously.

  

Sandulf was not one to notice the moss or the plants. But he did notice the colors on the ground. The way the shadows dance with the light and he stopped to admire a particularly dotted area. Briefly wondering if he could draw. It had been so long. Since he had shown the she wolf Kausiut.

Sandy preferred his scent to most. He liked that he smelled like forest and fresh water. It made him feel safe and content and happy. It was one of the reasons he loved Riverclan. For it's territory and it's space.

A noise and he lifted his head to gaze around him in surprise. Eyes falling on a dainty she wolf. Though from what he could see. Life hadn't been good to her recently, from the scarring. He briefly felt bad that she had been so hurt. But it hadn't done much to mar her simple beauty. Just added some character.

She sounded like the she wolf on the mountain. Kukutux. He briefly thought of the woman and realized he should make another journey there to see her. 

Hello. I greet you as well. Names Sandulf Ardeth. At your service.

an owlish blink of aventurine. "aiwë," the cloudberry murmured in return. "no service," the dove wisped liltingly, rabbit-skin diadem canting slightly aside with a wry grin that again pulled at her healing flesh and soon settled her features into a standard stoicism. 

"lótë... aiwë," a brief expression of confusion twisted her serene features. "aiwë service." her muzzle shifted slightly in gesture towards the clump of moss, as if indicating to her earlier task.

"sandulf come?" again, her head tilted -- this time in question. there was a light, easy smile fixed up on the doe's lips as if to imply that she would not mind if he was in a hurry to be elsewhere. although, there was a hidden aspect that was very much eager for his company after weeks spent with only her own perplexing thoughts. 

She blinked at him. There was something slightly off about her mannerisms. And he grew saddened when he realized she must have gotten hurt worse than most when whatever had happened to leave those scars had happened.

You're collecting Moss? Are you a healer? Or?

He nodded and gently moved to her side. I can come for a brief time. He didn't know where they were going or what they were doing, but well he could spare a minute for a pretty female. And if she needed help with something all the better. He liked to be useful.

her good ear twitched curiously at sandulf's question, falling into step beside him and trying to ignore the limp that pulled at her hip. "some," the dove admitted, mumbling around the mouthful of moss. with a gesture of her head, she indicated the way to her company. 

once they'd reached the clump of flowers and she was able to set it aside, it was easier to share her thoughts. "no moonwoman." her brow furrowed slightly, even as she said it. 

"aiwë is...lótë," she murmured in explanation, struggling to find the right words. her muzzle dipped, pointing to the plants. "laiquë," she added softly, the words of her native tongue nearly reverent as she ghosted the pads of a paw against the soft leaves. 

she bent then, nudging the moss gently around the over watered soil at the plant's base. 

"moss will soak, give support." she informed the dark male with a matter-of-fact nod. 

Sandy noticed her limp, and without missing a beat, he changed his pace just a bit, so she wouldn't llimp as hard and it was easier for her, but he listened to her words.

Moonwoman the name surprised him. I know Moonwoman Kukutux. Is that who you're talking about? My brother told me she was a good healer.

He looked at the little daffodils that dotted the landscape. Is laiquë, Daffodil?

He watched as she settled the moss around them and smiled. He'd need to remember to get some moss for the plants that SIlvetongue had gotten what were they lilies. Will moss help Lily's to grow too?

kukutux.

aiwë had to refrain from closing her eyes and sagging in on herself with the sudden pain that splintered through her. she stiffened against it, gaze dropping from sandulf's as the pale duck appeared in her mind, hazily and only for a moment. 

she had not forgotten. the spirit-speaker was one of the blurry faces pulling her home.

"aya," she rasped at last, clearing her throat. "kukutux is sistraa."

his next question drew her dimly back to the briefly misplaced task at hand. the dove gave a small shake of her head. 

"laiquë," she gestured to the daffodils. "laiquë," she gestured to the grass, to the trees. 

"lailë-malina," the four-year corrected kindly, pointing again to the flowers. "yellow laughter."

"not help grow, keep alive when too wet." something thrummed to life warmly in her chest. it had been too long since she'd practiced her craft. "too much water bad. moss soak. help plant stand."

she eyed him wonderingly. tradition called that he return her information by answering her own questions. "sandulf know kukutux? how?"

Sandy realized he had said something wrong, but he wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps this wolf didn't like Moonwoman, though he doubted anyone could dislike that sweet she wolf. 

Oh well that's good. I hope you can see her again soon.

He listened to her words, and worked them through his quiet mind. THen repeated them. "lailë-malina," it was probably not perfect, but he tried. 

Sandy lifted his head. You can call me Sandy if you'd like. I know Kukutux, because my brother lived in Moonglow. Rodyn Ardeth. He's to marry Samani, but they've moved near the sea, Moontide she and him call their pack.

Rodyn had come to inform of his decisions. Had talked with him on hours, asking for direction and advice. Sandy had done his best to make sure he could do what his brother needed. Rodyn would be fine, but he was younger than Sandy, his little brother and it made him feel good that he had sought him out.

"sandy," she tested with a small grin. though she kept it to herself that she preferred his full name. it was a good name. 

the dove simply stared at him, blinking once in utter shock. how quickly all the children of their village had grown! samani -- a wife! 

"we are kin, then." the herd-stalker gestured between the two of them with her muzzle, murmuring the words as the realization struck her. "samani is daughter of aiwë's hearth. kukutux and aiwë raised cubs together, aiwë is second wife to sunman." 

She could have continued to call him Sandulf if she wanted. He just found it easier to offer an alternative, cause not many liked or could say his full name. He liked his name, all his siblings names really.

Sandy wasn't sure what to say. He was pretty sure that Rodyn had told him Kukutux had a wife in a female named Sahkmet, so did that mean three wives? Or two wives for Sunman, two wives for Kukutux. He wasn't sure and he didn't want to say, wasn't his place.

So instead he smiled. Well then. Well met kinswoman.

lótë grinned, tail thumping lightly against the forest floor -- a dull thwacking noise, a melody of relief to know she was not alone in this world. 

a thought struck her. "sandulf not part of village moonglow, moontide. which village then?" it was not the most unheard of thing, she had, at one time, nearly formed her own village outside of moonglow. even so, it did make her wonder what had caused the older brother to move away. 

Sandy wagged is tail in return and looked around them. Always observant, not wishing any surprises upon them.

He shook his head. When I first came here. Rodyn had started to make his home in Moonglow and I didn't want to be a bother to him. He was making his own way, became first hunter. So I set out on my own. Met up with a wolf named Crowfeather and joined his clan. They settled by the rivers, called themselves Riverclan. They observe the sky and mostly heal. Allies with two other packs Kvarsheim and SwiftCurrent Creek.

A soft shrug of lean shoulder.

"aya," the herbalist breathed. "i see." and she did. familial ties weren't enough, not when one's fate lay along a different road. 

she was just about to ask sandulf what his new home was like when he divulged without prompting. lótë listened in rapt attention, unabashedly curious. she'd had little interaction outside of moonglow -- save for the occasional ally pack. 

"it sounds," the dove faltered, coming up short with the correct word. "..vanessë." it was said with a small smile, hoping to portray that the foreign term was a compliment. 

"you heal?" the four-year then inquired curiously, well aware that she was asking too many questions but too intrigued to obey the ingrained voice of propriety. 

Sandy tilted his head as she spoke. Sometimes she seemed to struggle, but he didn't wish her to think he wasn't listening. That would be a cruel injustice to her.

He didn't know what her word meant, but hoped that it meant something nice. Because Riverclan was nice. And Peaceful and well home.

He shook his head. I am a hunter mostly. I guard when I must. Runner

"oh!" lótë exclaimed gently -- both in realization and excitement. "aiwë hunts. sandulf and aiwë should hunt together, one day," she offered, beaming as her tail thumped a happy tempo against the forest floor. 

"what is runner?" her next question came readily, unfamiliar with the term.

Sandy smiled and wagged his tail. Her exclamation catching and he couldn't help the small chuckle of delight. 

I'd be honored to hunt with you Lady Aiwe. he shifted and weaved his tail.

He furrowed his brow. Scout? Ambassador? I run messages if they are needed for my pack or others sometimes.

the four-year practically beamed, turning a warm smile and sparkling emeralds towards sandulf. a doubt had whispered in her head for the past several moons, a treacherous murmur that the herd-stalker was useless without the full capacity of her limbs. it lit a small fire in her chest to know that even sandulf, a practical stranger, was accepting of her capabilities -- albeit, he might've just been overly kind. 

"ah," the cloudberry breathed, as if to say, i see. it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if there were many messages to send between packs but this seemed too much -- prying and suspicious. anyhow, something had stilled her tongue as if afraid to chase him away with incessant chatter. 

several heartbeats passed between them and the woman who had been aiwëndil could not still the question that bloomed in the silence. 

"is sandulf happy? in riverclan?"

sorry for the wait work is crazy

Sandy was not being kind. He had noticed her hunting figure as soon as he had met her. As a hunter himself, he could pick out the traits that made you a good one and she embodied them. Albeit with a little more grace than him, and that was okay. He liked that even.

He offered information of his own accord. I haven't had many messages to run lately. So I've been mostly hunting and mapping out territories. I was a loner and explorer before joining Riverclan and sometimes I still enjoy doing so.

Sandy frowned in thought. I am content. I've never really been a happy wolf much of anywhere Lady Aiwe. I am relaxed, content, happy as I can be. I like my packmates, i like the territory. That is all I can ask for is to have that contentment and peace.

no worries, I understand completely.

the dove's good ear perked curiously, gaze sliding to him as he answered her unspoken questions. for a moment, she only mulled over sandulf's words. she had spent so long trying to find her way home that she'd always assumed that she would remain close to the mountains after finding them again. that she'd have -- as ever -- no desires outside of being at her sister's side and being an upstanding member of both clan nuiruk and village moonglow. 

thinking on it now, what sandulf described sounded freeing. 

and remaining always as second wife, the disgraced mother of the iceman. too afraid to leave the protective ring of the home she'd helped to build.

it sent a bolt of panic through her. 

lótë no longer knew who she was without the wandering. the wilderness had crept into her; ivy along an oak. 

"i think...that sounds very good," she said it carefully, almost as if it were a secret. taboo, to admit she wanted something more. 

"perhaps lótë will carry messages. perhaps I come see sandulf." she grinned at him, somewhat playfully, though in all serious she did truly enjoy his company and would've liked to see him again someday. 

"aya," she murmured, smile softening. "this is good thing to have. not all wolves find it. i hope you find more than this someday." 

Sandy wasn't privy to her inner thoughts. It was mostly just he felt the need to explain. Because most pack wolves did just that, stayed within the realm of their pack land. Sandy just wanted to be good. That was all. If he could make someone smile and make someone happier that was all he cared about. There had always been a sense of melancholy to the bright eyed man. It had never left him.

Sandulf smiled. I'd like a visit from  you anytime. It makes me feel useful to help out in this way and i can see beauitful land as I roam.

A gentle smile. I hope so too.

lótë returned his smile, falling into a comfortable -- albeit wistful -- silence. she stayed for a time, chatting with the trailblazer until circumstances forced them to part ways.

this just seemed like a good place to end it. <3