Neverwinter Forest death and death

@lasher

The lumbering wolf moved once more from her territory. It was a brief scouting expedition, to see what lay outside. In this forest she had found Iqniq, and also, a herd of stray deer that grazed in the lush grasses protected from the sun by the canopy of evergreens. The herd was a large one and ought to be easy to find; readily, she stalked their tracks. But the wolf, not easily distracted, found her thoughts drifting to Taltos. She was guiltless in all she had done, as everything she had done was out of necessity; and as well as she could, she did love Tartok, for that was what she lived for. While she knew she could have done more to find those that had sworn fealty to her upon her return, she also understood she had been absent a long while. Her mother would have been content to upend their lives, to call them back to her. Tonravik had not even thought of this, had not tracked them down to find them.

Taltos reminded Tonravik that she ought to. If any were here, find them, bring them to her.

She paused in the wood, her sights falling onto the herd. They were aware of her presence, and bounded eastward... but all she needed to know was that they were there to know that she would bring them to where they belonged.

he knew not why he had lingered by the place of his humiliation, but he had not wished to turn homeward after he had departed the pale woman and her leader. he skulked through the tall grasses and outcroppings in search of water with which he would bathe his face. presently the ground turned cool beneath his paws and he waded into the sunwarmed water of a narrow creek. with a intake of breath, he plunged his face beneath the pristine surface, lips curling in a wince of stinging pain.

blinking both the springing tears and water from his eyes, the beta moved into the shade of an o'erhanging willowtree. the pounding of hooves caught his attention, and he saw the panicked whites of their eyes as the deer ran in a terrified rout not far from him. 

tonravik was upon them.

lasher laid back his ears and a low grow began in his throat; he pulled back into the branch-cover and cast about for a way to evade the tartok wolf.

Tonravik lurked nearer to Taltos than she knew. But the wind betrayed him, and Tonravik shifted in his direction. He was not in plain sight, and Tonravik felt a knot of frustration form within her. She had only just found him; why would he hide?

She did not consider that he did not wish to be found; Tonravik was invasive, and that the donnelaith wolf was here even still meant, to Tonravik, that in some capacity he wanted to be found. Willing or otherwise, Tonravik would find him. His oath was a lifelong one that could only end in death, just as her own was. She knew of his disappointment, but still, could not understand it, nor empathize with it. For Tartok had not changed, except for new members; and the old ones, the ones that were not here, were mostly there with Tartok again, in another branch.

But Tonravik could not articulate all of this, and so only sought to see him again, waiting for him to emerge, or for any evident signs of his presence.

he withdrew from her because he could not bear to look into her lovely face and feel the weight of her truths, and feel as if he had been the one to leave tartok -- when in truth she had been the one to abandon him. and yet he told himself of his utter foolishness; she knew he was near, for tonravik was very far from a stupid creature. thus he gathered himself to his paws and set out to meet her, plume stiff at his heels and neck bristled with trepidation and remaining anger.

the man said nothing, merely watched her directly, murkwater eyes meeting the hot gaze of the tartok witch. 

Tonravik's truths were the only truths. She was a woman that lived with her truths, and knew only of them. To hear Lasher's versions did not confuse or dissuade her. Rather, she wondered what made him come to these points. That her mother abandoned Tartok for Kilgharrah. Kilgharrah and her mother started the first family of Tartok. Her brothers, sisters, biologically. And then when he passed, Aves. Tartok was Tartok; it was immovable, and had not changed, and was always expanding. 

It was she he thought ill of, she recalled. And so when he showed himself to her, and she thought of this and felt his anger again... Tonravik regarded him. There were few times she did not know what to do, and this was certainly one of them. Taltos was not a stupid wolf himself. The wolf before him was no pretender; she had never lied to work her way up, but rather, fought for it. As she fought for Tartok. 

He was Tartok. 

Tonravik did not remove her gaze from his, bristling herself. Though her ears airplaned downward, and her head cocks as she looks to him. She takes a step closer, but there is nothing threatening to her demeanor. How could she ask? Surely he knew her thoughts, even if it had been so long; she was not so difficult to read, and her expression then was not at all empty. Her brows knit together, clear frustration written in the lines created by the sour look of perplexity she wore: do you truly hate me?

he watched her demeanour fall; he saw and sensed her frustration. and so because he still favored her in his heart, and had not intended to hurt her with the harsh lash of his words, taltos extended his muzzle in a seeking and gentle gesture. while he did not love tonravik as he had adored siku, his witch, his heart beat for her all the same. "i was hurt when you did not come for me," the earthen servant murmured, his eyes moving to her own. 

he did not hate her -- he could never hate her, and hurt that she thought such of him, for her eyes held a wounded universe within them. tartok had once thrummed in his blood, and while he did not wish to be a part of the mountain pack, he held a fondness for tonravik's wolves all the same.

Tonravik did not understand emotions, and when she felt anything, it was only ever for Tartok. This frustration caused her to wish to lash out, make something hurt as she did until all was well and settled. All things were fixed this way. But Tonravik was given pause, here, when he reached out to her; her eyes looked him over quickly, and she inhaled heavily. His words caused her to withdraw some, ears twitching atop her head. How could she tell him? What were the right words? "I had a plan." Meaning that she had every intention of coming to find him, and to see if others still lurked in this place. The wolf had no reason not to lie; and she could not regret that her plan had not been acted on yet, given it was not yet the time. Her hold on the Spine was growing stronger... but she could not go far from it yet.

She smelled on him youth, cubs. While he was Tartok, she also understood while he had young, he could not return. They were not her own, and Tonravik--as all Tartok women who could conceive--would not foster them. "You lead?" For that was what the scent meant to Tonravik, that he was head of his helm, and that his line had been continued. Tonravik felt proud, in knowing this. That somehow, they had groomed him to do just this. 

he doubted her, only because this was the second of the times that she had returned, and both times she had not sought him. he had been one of her mother's closest consorts, and yet the younger witch spurned him. but he was foolish to believe that tonravik would regard him as siku had. in the end, kilgarrah had been enough to turn her head, and lead her from him. "i do," he murmured gently, offering her a gentle smile. 


"tonravik, i am sorry if i have caused your heart to hurt. i have no right to put upon your shoulders the pain that i have suffered this years." he spoke with the truth of his words upon his tongue; taltos wished to right the wrong, for even if tonravik had never intended to seek him again, he had lived beneath the spectre of tartok for far too long.

Tonravik listened to him, an ear twitching. His apology was appreciated. And while it did bother her that he thought she truly would not seek him out in time, which she surely would have, she herself had not given him so much to go off of. Enough that at the very least, he knew she was not a wolf who lied, and would surely make him aware of the fact that she had no plans to search for him if that were the truth. Had it been she to make him suffer? But emotions were not things she understood, and she had not known herself to be hurt; she could not understand much of anything, her mind one gnarled, primal mess. But he had righted his wrong, and she had told him why she had been gone. 

That Lasher had loved her mother she did not know. Only that he had been devoted to Siku, and a good wolf and follower. She was silent, then, but thought of his leadership now. "Tell me of your life here." He would fill in those blanks, tell her what she had missed in this place and in more importantly his life.

he remembered the beat of her heart and relaxed. "three children have i now, two sons and a daughter. and my lover, she is not my mate but i love her completely." she had not been 'round when lasher consorted with eismitte, whom he missed sorely, so she may not have known of his proclivities toward males, nor his propensity for the non-traditional. he loved blue willow with a pure sort of emotion, and easily saw himself growing grey alongside her, but the fierce thrumming love was reserved for his witches, the whirlwind haunting sensation that took his head and swung him in the witch's direction. only siku and julien had commanded him thus. "i rule as beta male alongside her at blacktail deer plateau."

"and yourself?" lasher did not think that tonravik was a mother, nor tied to a mate; but then again, he did not know her as he had known her mother, known the flash of her eyes and her very essence, she who had commanded the very heartstrings of his body.

It was strange to Tonravik. Not that he had cubs, but that he had no mate; it defied the only logic in which she understood, in that she existed by. Love, too, was a strange word. Lasher was a man with depth, where she was quite surface-level. He was not an alpha, as she had thought, but a beta; that he had cubs meant the year had been a prosperous one.

To his question, she shook her head. No cubs. No mate. Not yet. And as for love, it was something too complex for her to comprehend or imagine. So it could be said that she denied that in the shake of her proud head in its entirety. He knew, already, she led. There was no reason for her to waste her breath on that. "You are welcome to the Spine only if you return to us," she rumbles, and, never one to beat around the bush, "Return to us." His company, his familiarity and his knowledge, she hoped to gain. He could not, not yet. But he was Tartok; when he came, he would be welcomed home. Until then, he would be chased away; it was their way, always their way, and that, and who they always were, had never been a mystery to him. He had spoken once of his hate, and knew well of his silver tongue, but did not think the man a liar when he spoke his sorrows. 

tonravik spoke, and the love he felt for siku surged in his veins. though she banned him from the spine, and upon pain of injury was implied, for that was the way of tartok, he adored her in this moment. for her ferocity, her savagery, and yes, even unto the lovely muscularity of her dark form.

but taltos did not think he would return to tartok. his place was at the plateau, and he communicated this with the slow burn of his eyes. "my witch," he murmured softly, granting tonravik a slow smile and then silence.

His words were his answer, and Tonravik granted him his choice. She moved to nip him roughly, before turning to depart in silence. He had a home to return to, and so too did she. Whatever ill there was between them had gone, and for this she was glad. To know that he was here and not with her caused a dull ache in her heart, but she had been gone for too long to not understand why he might stay. Perhaps when his cubs had no need of his tutelage, he would return to her. It would be a lie if the woman did not hope for this, but it was a hope she was not truly aware of. It was in the back of her mind, deep in those dark depths, protected by thorns too thick to cut down for the while.