Overture Downs oh, i think you're standing on my left foot

hoping for mayhaps an @Akavir ?!?! >:D but AW!

follow the white lillies.
that is what iris had been taught, and that is exactly what she did as she descended from the rich plains out into what looked to be a valley. mountains carved themselves into the horizon, jutting into the sky like spearheads. she is gilded by the sun and the heat, moisture beading off of exposed tongue.
white lillies dance around her. she is exposed out here, her girls would likely say, and she revels in it, the rawness of this place. no one can hide from her here. her head tips back in the sending of a call; entertain me.
she curls her tail around her haunches as she bends down to preen at her forelimbs, shedding the grime of last night. inevitably, she will cross paths with a follower of her siren call, and when she does, there will not be a single flaw to her countenance.
perfect, perfect, perfect.

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‘You can’t touch me,’ his daughter had said—it was an introduction to a conversation that would hammer his heart further than he had ever thought possible.

A paw swiped down his face in that moment, the summer heat beckoning him to the creek, though he found himself moving further from it, despite its appeal. Keep moving—don’t think. It seemed the best approach.

Because his daughter was dying.

Lilitu. His first. Dying. From some random fucking stupid-ass disease.

And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Mae, blind. From some random fucking stupid-ass wanderer. Couldn’t do nothing about him, either.

His tongue bled—he had been biting it. A howl has gone up, and the swarthy wolf found himself coming upon it’s caller—pristine. Silver. Beautiful.

Allegedly not dying, nor blind.

Must have been fucking nice.

she does not have to wait for long.
her suitor is better than anything she could have expected. a man, one who is tall and handsome in that dark, rugged way that was just her style; aged like a fine wine, and probably with just the right sourness of one too. but he does not look too happy about coming upon her.
she turns toward him as if she hadn't at all expected him, lashes fluttering as she blinks away her surprise; quite obvious in her examinations of him, but pretending to make an effort to hide it.
you... you okay, sir? she calls out, noting the distinct reek of cortisol which swarmed her senses. perhaps she would have a cure for that — albeit a temporary one.

A question from her lips--his gaze is harsh as he steals them over her features, and he finds himself continuing to bite his tongue--a blink given as he considers why he's even out here.

Answering the summons of a stranger, when he should be with his daughter.

But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't hold her, couldn't console her. Accordingly, he could watch her die.

To the earth, where they all ended up.

With Ibis.

But her question... he blinks. No. No he was not okay--could he ever be again?

He cleared his throat, pushing a step closer. Feeling something akin to madness beginning to pull at the corners of his mind... knock knock.

Did you need something?

If only she knew how proud he was at how solidly he spoke in that moment--no tremor in his tone.

do... do you?
there is something distinctly off about this man, some level of tragedy to him that she does not understand and could not be expected to. she rises to her feet, spindly-limbed and scintillating, shuffling closer in order to better gather an idea of him without invading his space.
my, what a lovely hunk he certainly was.
sorry if i bothered yah, her lips pull up into a friendly, hopeful smile — yes, sweet, innocent little iris. i was just wondering who was out here. i'm not, uh, not from here. but-- are you okay? she regards him with curious eyes, doting, even.

My phone posts are the worst im so sorry

She closed distance between them--enough he looked at her with startled questioning. Why did she care? Who was this stranger? Beautiful not only in her prese nation but her delivery--

--he found himself willing the words to his mouth. 'Nope, I'm best kind,' and instead he could feel the weight of it pull him...

Down.

Down, further, it felt but he found himself seated upon grounds that were not his own, in company of another he knew nothing about, and the swallow of thick emotions--

No, he admitted and found then he couldn't even look to this woman now. The Alpha of Swiftcurrent Creek... unable to even look upwards in a moment.

Could one recover from the countdown of one's own daughter dying?

This is Rising Sun Valley, he offered, blinking harshly--as if he could press the emotion away before he looked sharply upward. There's four packs here. My own, Swiftcurrent Creek, included.

oh u HUSH

rising sun valley. such a lovely name, iris thought to herself, and that same sentiment was certainly echoed in the men who called it home.
but it would be plain rude to advance herself upon a man who was so dismally despondent, and so she pins this thought for the time being. swiftcurrent creek, huh? her head tilts ever so slightly to the side, jaw tilted upward. i take it you needed some fresh air.
my name's iris, she finally offers, tone light and bouncy in an effort to create — well, some form of positivity. what's got you so down? if you don't mind my asking.

He did not consider the appraising way her eyes roved him at times—a display of interest that was missed entirely upon him, and if honest, would have likely been as well had he not been so distraught. Not now—not after—

—his jaw grit—the flounce of her tone, likely something that encouraged retaliation in others, and he found the corners of his mouth try to lift, spare falling instead with a downward moue. “Akavir,” he returned, reluctant to speak in the moment of his worries—his concerns.

A death sentence wasn’t exactly trivial, and he found himself rolling his shoulders back, a harsh laugh escaping him in a chuff. “Wouldn’t know where to start—except my daughter apparently has an incurable disease that’s going to drive her mad, shuts her mind down and will eventually kill her.”

Fatal, Lilitu had said.

Weren’t parents supposed to outlive their children?

“You don’t happen to know a magic cure, do you, Iris?”

akavir, she mirrors, lips curling sweetly as she repeats the syllables in her mother's frostbitten accent. pleased to meet yah.
he does not seem to respond to her subtle cues, and this does not surprise her — but it does not deter her. call her smitten (or perhaps just a girl with daddy issues), but she wished to bury herself beneath the hard layers of muscle and grit; to know more about this akavir.
and he fulfills this wish in some way by indulging her in his woes — and they were, in fact, woes. a daughter, stricken with an illness the likes of which iris had only ever heard of in fables. her expression softens and her lips part into a soft 'o' of shock and, frankly, horror.
oh, god, she whispers, gaze suddenly falling to the floor. what the hell was one supposed to say in this situation? i wish i did. i mean, i could-- come to swiftcurrent? with you? take a look at her and... do what i can to help?

It wasn’t a reaction he had expected from a stranger—incurable diseases with the promise of becoming mad, delusional and whatever other nightmares awaited Lilitu should have sent any off in the opposite direction with a hurried salute and a ‘well this was fun.’

Not offering to stay—to help.

His gaze drifted over her—the wariness of him shifting to hardened mistrust—and thus: “Why?”

And then a deluge of guilt at an offer that could be genuine... "Are you a healer?"

there were two primary reasons iris had extended her offer. one: she needed a place to live, and two: she simply did not fear what could possibly await her. shelter was shelter, food was food, and work was work — so long as her hands were busy, little else mattered.
and, on top of that, men were men.
she hesitates for a beat, startled by the sudden shift in akavir's tone from seemingly pleading for help to rejecting the notion outright. her brows lift. why not?
i know a thing or two, and this was indeed true in some respect; she could tell a handful of plants from one another, and she understood the basics of caring for those who were sick, young, or injured, skills that came from a lifetime of being delegated to such tasks. and i can hunt. i can... provide, i guess i should say.
the dazzling light of her gaze indicates that these provisions could be whatever he wanted them to be.

Swiftcurrent Creek has an apt healer. Arlette. She's just given birth... I can't...

Risk her. He couldn't risk her.

Not even to save his own daughter?

His tongue felt thick with the weight of guilt--Lilitu pleading with him that none could touch him. A sudden inhale is given, his eyes roving over the slender form of the she-wolf, jaw set.

Either way, we have a new mother... and could use the help. Whether for healing, or for becoming an extra helping hand while he dealt with... with everything.

There was always something...

He blinked. You sure about this?

yes.
the question was not about iris, really, or at least that was what she felt; it was more for him, whether or not he was willing to blindly accept a stranger into his fold. she looks at him resolutely, shifting now to walk toward him as if it were a silent gesture for him to lead the way.
whatever you need, i'll do, her smile does not falter, but shifts into something that borders on a genuine gesture of kindness. as long as i've got a place to sleep at night. deal?
she winks.

A wink cast toward him—met with his own blinking eyes. Fatigue swept him, his mind jumbling over what to say—anything that might have been considered intelligent or even remotely interesting simply not surfacing.

So, with that, he gave a nod, and began to lead the she-wolf to her new home, should she choose to stay.