Rising Sun Valley A Stray Ember

The air had stilled, a clear indicator that dawn was approaching. In fact, the snow beneath Sumac's weary paws was just beginning to turn a slightly fairer shade of blue. It would be time to rest soon... Ever since the incident that left him a lone soul in this world, he'd taken to traveling at night and regaining his strength during the day. He'd been coming west steadily since the summer, when the cooler months offered a welcome reprieve from this year's oppressive heat.

The lanky black male continued his solitary journey past gently sloping hills, wishing instead for the shelter of a dark forest. He could hear the rushing of a large river off to his right, and an owl screeched once in the distance. The ambient light was steadily increasing. Shaking his head vigorously in an attempt to regain some vigor, he issued a soft sigh at the sight of a large hill in front of him. Well, at least it would be a good place to survey the area.

Slowly ambling up the hill's snow-covered slope, he gasped aloud as he reached its crest: never before had he seen a landscape so awash in vibrant color. Reds, golds, purples... They delighted his tired eyes as his gaze drank eagerly of the scenery unfolding before him. Rolling hills, babbling creeks, towering mountains in the distance - ah, it was a masterwork of creation. 'Mac lingered for a moment longer before sense demanded he find a less exposed place to inhabit for the day.

Carefully picking a path back down the hill, his nose examined the myriad scents that were being delivered on the now-returning breeze. The aromas of other wolves piqued his interest... and scraped at a wound in his heart. Lonely. So lonely for so long. The morning suddenly seemed somber and barren of its previous splendor. Ah well, keep carrying on.

Easy, too, was a creature who best moved at night. The thickness of her pelt meant that sunlight rarely reached deep enough to warm her skin, but that she remained toasty warm regardless. Really, it was just that the world was so pretty when the sun was hidden. That was when the stars came alive and the crickets and the frogs all sang, and there again was that owl screeching.

The shewolf veered toward it, hoping to see the great spread of silent wings. There was something arresting about a bird gliding across the night sky, blotting out stars so quick and so smooth that they only seemed to blink. Some owls were black-on-black against the velvet sky, while barn owls glowed milky blue, like stories of spirits burning in the swamplands — will-o-the-wisps or hinky-punks. Nothing glowed like that in daylight, save for the dusk as the sun bedded down in the evening.

This change of direction brought her to the crest of the hill. On the next slope, she caught sight of a slinking shadow as it picked its way down the uneven grade. She watched it, fluffy ears sweeping back for a moment, but then pressing forward as she began moving again. Toward the shadow and not away, black nose twitching as she tried to take in his scent.

They were two dark smudges against the white landscape. Easy's long legs carried her toward him even as she waited to be seen.

'Mac carefully maneuvered his way down the hill's slope, half-padding, half-sliding in the few inches of snow that softly blanketed the slumbering grass. A sudden gust of chilled wind assaulted his face, causing him to squint and pull his ears back. Perhaps it would be blustery today after all... Ugh!

An unanticipated scent rode the gust's tail-end, and Sumac's head shot up immediately. His amber gaze fell upon a shrouded silhouette, barely visible in the newborn light. He felt his heart jolt into a rapid, colt's-gallop pace with adrenaline. Who was this? He hadn't had much contact with others of his kind in seasons. Well, nothing substantial or pleasant, anyways. A lone young male wasn't usually taken to kindly when stepping across others' boundaries.

Now arrested in his tracks, 'Mac's tail dropped, his ears falling to the sides as he pulled his gaze away, not wanting to stare and accidentally cause offense.

"Oh, uhm... Sorry! Didn't know this land was occupied. Really, I'm just passing on through... Don't mind me," he stammered loudly, lifting one paw up with uncertainty.

Despite the darkness, Easy knew the exact moment his eyes found her. They reflected twin moons at her, first off — and there was a telltale flinch that suggested he was not as pleased to find company as she was.

"Don't apologize," she said, working to be sure he would hear neither pity nor amusement in her voice. "I'm by myself. No packs for miles yet."

This area was still a popular haunt for the ever-transmuting packs of the Teekon wilds. Easy had passed by Easthollow on the way in, but she hadn't recognized any scents there. The Cuesta where she'd been born, however, still stood empty. Knowing this gave her a lonely sort of feeling. Another face might assauge that, familiar or not.

"I'm Ishara. What's your name?" she asked him, further gentling her voice. He wasn't a child, but something about his nervousness brought out her maternal instincts. He reminded her of Valiant, perhaps.

Sumac suddenly straightened, his head tilting to one side as his ears pricked up. Oh, well, this wasn’t quite the harsh rebuke he’d anticipated, now, was it? His golden eyes brightened a bit, and his tail seemed to droop a little less. He was a tall, lanky, and overall, well, awkward fellow, rarely owning his space, but there was no mistaking the glimmer of hope that sparked behind those curious, somewhat innocent eyes.

“Oh, uhm, hi Ishara! Er, quite the pleasure to meet you. You’re a loner, too?” ‘Mac managed to reply.

Oh, wait… was “loner” offensive? Oh, dear. Sumac’s socialization up until now had primarily consisted of his family. Now that he was interacting with someone new, he found he had a bit of… anxiety. It was then that he snapped to attention, realizing he’d not yet answered her question!

“Oh! And, uhm, I’m Sumac. But my family calls-uh, called… me ‘Mac. You can, too, if you’d like.”

The corners of his lips managed to curl upward just a little, accompanied by a gentle swish of his tail. 

Loner wasn't quite the word she would've used, but it was hard to be offended by someone who so clearly wanted to be thought well of — or who, at least, wanted badly not to be reviled.

"Of a kind," she replied in tepid agreement, a faint smile curving her lips as the young man talked circles around himself. She wanted to stop him with a paw over his dark muzzle — there was a reason her son had grown into a powerful orator! — but she kindly refrained.

He was sweet, she thought. And there was nothing wrong with that.

"Then call me Easy, Mac," she said, speaking up before he could overthink his offer. "That's what my family calls me. That or Mama, but let's not go quite there, yes?"

Whether or not the joke landed, there was a squinty-eyed smile in the offering before Easy cast a glance over her shoulder, searching the direction that Sumac had been heading.

"Are you heading anywhere in particular?" she asked him, dark head and bright eyes swinging back in his direction. And then, more pointedly, "Where did you come from?"

'Mac's ears twitched as a pair of crows passed overhead, jeering at the two predators between wingbeats. Pfft, corvids...

His attention was fully on the large, dark female in front of him. She was clearly his elder - wiser, more experienced, definitely someone with more information than him, for sure. It would be remiss of him to not pick her brain a little.

"Okay - Easy, it is!" He smirked. The expression faltered when she made her quip, unable to fully prevent his ears from dropping slightly. "Ah... Haha, yes, of course not. You have a family? You're quite lucky."

'Mac's mind briefly drifted to Ma's bright green eyes, and the delighted grin that always seemed to threaten to break through Da's austere gray scowl. It had only been two seasons, but it was another lifetime ago entirely. His heart ached, and he swallowed, quickly bringing his mind back to the present before the trauma brought the ghosts of their dying screams back to haunt his ears.

"Ah, nah... Just, well, away; away from home. What was home. It's not there, anymore, you see... I sort of just wander, see where my feet take me. This place is nice, though. Do you live here? Speaking of which, where is here?" he grinned, tilting his head to the side in an almost apologetic way. He gave a friendly swish of his tail and silently hoped his babbling wasn't annoying his new acquaintance.

"I am," she agreed, but she was just a little sad to think of her scattered children. They were surely having the time of their lives without her, and she wanted that for them! But it did leave her with an awful lot of time on her paws. The world was so quiet without them underfoot!

Perhaps it was natural, then, that her heartstrings should be so easily plucked by this perfect stranger. Perhaps it was simply that his heart seemed to sing the same notes.

"I know how that is," she replied, her voice very quiet. She watched his face intently as she spoke. "I was born not far from here. We had such a big family, and we loved each other very much." She braved a small smile. "Now I have my children, and some distant cousins I can call on if I need to. But it's not quite the same, is it?"

She had a feeling this man was not yet a father, but she thought it likely didn't take experience as a parent to know. She had felt so safe and careless back when her father was still around. That feeling had died with him, and now she lived with an aching dread below her breast — a feeling that had flared up as soon as she looked down at her childrens' faces and was struck by how small they were, and how vulnerable they were now that they were outside her body, free to do as they pleased if she did not keep them under her eyes.

"They call this place the Rising Sun Valley," she told him. "The greater area is the Teekon Wilds. I don't live here, exactly. Except I suppose I live wheresoever I stand, for the moment."

Sumac seemed to be frozen, his amber gaze intently focused on Easy's face as she spoke. For one moment, they were one being in their shared sorrows, and 'Mac forgot he even existed. Someone else who could know even a shadow of this pain he carried like a mountain on his back? There was no mistaking the words left unspoken by the past tense in which she spoke. Perhaps he could open the door to his seared heart, just a tiny crack?

"I'm sorry. It sounds like you've had a hard time, too... You see, there was a fire during the summer. I was out scouting... By the time I got back... I-I couldn't do anything..." he trailed off, seeming to stare past her as the flames licked at his memories, the vice around his heart tightening its ice-cold grip.

After a tense moment, he shook his head fiercely. C'mon 'Mac, let the ghosts sleep - don't resurrect them.

Without knowing exactly why, he found himself blurting out, "Sorry."

She reminded him of Ma a bit - her easy demeanor and gentle disposition. And also, Hawthorn, his lovely sister and littermate, who was quick to lift 'Mac's confidence and self-esteem when it faltered. He bit his lower lip then cleared his throat.

"Rising Sun Valley... Teekon Wilds," he repeated into the chilled air, attempting to stem the tide of rushing memories, "I suppose I do, too... For the moment. Uhm, how are prey here? And are there any packs or territories I should steer clear of? Most others I've run across have been... er, less than pleased to see me." Sumac allowed an almost bashful grin to lift the somber expression from his maw.

The black bear's gaze was steady, and almost inscrutable aside from a knowing sort of empathy. She did not apologize or make any attempt to soothe this grief. All she offered was a gentle, "My story is very similar," and the simply courtesy of looking him in the eye as she said it. There was no cure for this kind of hurt, and so she could only hope that he grew old enough for time to give him new memories to dwell on, and new ties to this plane of existence.

A smile replaced solemnity as the conversation moved on. She had come to a decision, and so she turned to carry on in the direction he'd been walking, her pace inviting him to walk alongside her.

"The prey is plentiful this year," she told him, pleased to report. "I haven't run into too many packs yet, but full bellies have made for peaceful encounters, so far. Do you seek a pack, then? A place to settle?"

Without thinking about it, Sumac found himself naturally falling into stride with the towering female as she took up his original path. Nor was he aware how his posture assumed a submissive air, his tail held downward behind him and the crown of his head below the peak of his back. Although his bearing revealed much of his personality, he seemed to have relaxed a little, his ears gently bobbing with each step and the tip of his ebony tail swaying easily.

“Oh, that’s a relief to hear,” he replied, nodding his head, “I’ve been through some places where I had to think about taking songbirds. And the residents were none too hospitable.”

He paused for a moment, falling slightly behind her before quickening his pace to catch up. For some reason, her question had caught him off guard. A pack? Another family? The thought hadn’t really entered his mind. On one hand, it seemed almost like a betrayal to his own, even though their ashes had long since cooled. On the other, the prospect seemed alluring, even a bit exciting… and perhaps a bit intimidating.

“Another pack? I… I hadn’t really considered it, to be honest. I haven’t really been thinking about the future much… Just what’s right in front of my eyes at the moment.”

He wondered if perhaps he’d deliberately been avoiding thinking about the future to avoid the fear of the unknown as he gazed ahead, taking in more of their surroundings. The sun was rising higher now, painting the valley in a swath of colors and awakening the senses. It truly was beautiful. Maybe he could get used to calling a place like this home.

Easy nodded in understanding. When she'd lost her family, she hadn't thought about trying to find another. To her, a pack was family — something you were born into, or perhaps gabe birth to, if the timing was right. Older and wiser, she understood that there was always something more in the offering. The world kept turning no matter how much it felt like she'd reached the end. There were wolves out there worth loving, and who might think her just as worthy.

The same was true for Sumac, she was sure, even if he didn't know it yet.

"That's alright," she said, not pressing the issue. "Why don't you and I travel together for a little while. I'm on the lookout for my sons, but it's none too urgent. We can watch each other's backs if we meet other wolves."

Already, the blackbear was scheming — there was no if, only when. It was her hope that, with her presence as a safety net, he might find it easier to meet and befriend others. She would guide them toward packs and loners to ask about Dutch and Valiant, but also to introduce Sumac to them. Perhaps he would not find a place to call home, but he would at least form some new bonds of friendship. How could such a sweet young man do otherwise?

Sumac visibly perked up a bit. Oh, a traveling partner? That sounded so much nicer than more solitude. While some probably preferred the lone wander’s path, ‘Mac was a social soul by nature, despite his penchant for social anxiety.

“Oh, I’d like that. And two are definitely safer than one!” He agreed, nodding his head.

The gangly dark male trotted more easily beside his new companion, his tail not quite so drooped, and his ears more erect in an affable fashion. He wasn’t quite sure where their path was heading, but he had a feeling it would be the first step on his journey toward a new life. That felt exciting.

After a while, he spoke up.

“Easy? What are your sons like?”

Regardless of whether she chose to divulge details in the manner of a doting mother, or suffice with but a few words, he would listen intently as they wound their way through the valley.

She let out a soft breath when Sumac seemed enthusiastic. Something settled beneath her breastbone — she got the feeling she'd just done something she was always meant to do, like a puzzle piece sliding smoothly into place. And Sumac, too, seemed to relax a little. Or perk up, rather.

The silence between them was companionable; Easy got the feeling they were both enjoying the peaceful dawn as well as the comforting weight of companionship. When he broke it, however, she was happy enough to answer.

"Impish," she decided after a long hum of thought. "There are four of them. The youngest two are troublemakers — Mirza and Arya. They'll be a yearlings next month. Right now, they're visiting their aunt and their cousins in the land of long nights. Then there's my firstborn, Arjun. He's a man, now — he and Valiant both are about your age. He's adventurous and creative and very, very kind. And the oldest is Valiant. They travel together. Valiant is..."

The blackbear's ears splayed.

"He's quiet. Serious, a lot of the time," she said, speaking a little more slowly as she felt out the impression she wanted to give. "Which makes it hard to tell when he's making a joke, because he's very dry-witted a lot of the time. It's hard to know when he wants to share a laugh or when he's just feeling melancholy. He'll never say whether you got it right or wrong."

She cast a careful look in Sumac's direction.

"Will you tell me about your family?" she asked.