halving the compass

for @Shylock! Area inspired by this photo: click!

The jagged spine of granite and earth to the east kept the sun off him for most of the morning, but now the star was climbing towards the zenith of it's path and with it came the oppressive late spring heat. The mists rising off the ponds and the dew on the grass had already dissipated and he could feel the sweat between his toes. He knew he would be miserable pushing forward until the the afternoon when the shadows began to crawl across the valley floor; it wasn't like there was a great rush to his task, but a certain sense of urgency had kept him moving these few weeks. 

Tybalt stole a glance over his shoulder. He, at least, had Shy around to keep him company. Most other dispersals couldn't say the same. It beat being alone and, well, he rather enjoyed it. Two siblings, out on the road, in the thick of it; away from their parents, family, and obligations. Well, not all of them. They still needed to eat, and hunting was trickier with just two of them to do the work of five. It kept him fit at least; he hadn't felt this trim in many moons, and neither seemed too worse for wear. Sure, his bones ached a bit and his paws could use a rest, but it would come when he had his answers. Or not. 

In fact, he wasn't even sure if he would find her. 

He came across a decent spot of shade a few minutes later, nestled beside a quiet little pond on the fringes of a beautiful meadow. It was here he flopped down unceremoniously with a great sigh, and stretched all four legs out with a grunt of satisfaction. 

Shylock wasn't too pleased with the way things turned out. Though her brother had been betrothed to a woman of the cliff, Shy didn't think the girl was worthy of him. Tybalt was bright and bold and beguiling; this woman was dark and dispassionate and boring. Though Shy had met the girl quite a few times, and had liked her on a personal level, she knew that this warrior woman wasn't close enough to her brother's level of intelligence to keep him happy. She was beautiful, in her own brutish way, but she was far from the most talkative or interested in meaningful pursuits.

That didn't stop Tybalt from falling for her, though. Now they were on a mission to find her, after she had left nearly a year ago. First her brother disappeared, then she followed. It seemed to foretell a fickle family full of wanderlust. Shy was jerked out of her thoughtful meandering when she brother plopped down beneath some shade. She scoffed, but stretched and lowered herself beside him. "Lazy hog." She teased him with a grin, flopping onto her side to stretch herself in the cool grass. There was a pond nearby, and perhaps soon she'd take a dip. "She better be worth all this mess."

Shylock, not far behind, takes up her own spot beside him (like always, he muses quietly) with a light-hearted jab. "Seriously, how are you not tired? I must have been born defective or something." He groans wolfishly as he rolls onto his back while his ears are squashed comically under his skull. He looks down his snout at her while she stretches. Tybalt heaves a heavy breath out from where it had been buried deep in his chest for the past day. His anxiety was getting to him; he could feel it rising like a frightened bird trapped in a cage.

The sandy male rolled onto his side and his eyes shoot up to his sister's slender muzzle. He curls a lip and looks away again while muttering, "We've had this conversation." And that was that. Kaskara was beautiful; a perfect compliment to his brains. They could truly produce something wonderful. His father seemed quite pleased with the union.

A quiet little voice peeped up: of course he was. What alternative was there? 

Shy snorted, flicking her ear toward her brother at his comment, and let it rest for a moment. He wasn't born defective, and neither was she born immaculate. It took time and effort to become so. "I am tired. I just hide it better." She wasn't mouth breathing quite the way Tybalt was, but Shylock was exhausted. She was glad for the rest, even if it meant delaying their journey. She wasn't even sure they'd find the girl here; what was different about this place than all the others they'd tried?

Tybalt seemed miffed. Well, she'd be too if her betrothed had up and left, mostly without warning. There had been signs, now that Shy thought back on it, but she hadn't said anything about it. In fact, Kaskara was quite the stoic and quiet sort, more like a man than a woman in her opinion. Shylock sighed and rolled over to look at him. "I know, Balt. But that still doesn't make this a smart idea." It was too late to change her mind now; they were far from home and too tired to even think about going back.

The breeze was nice in the shade, and was doing wonders to whisk away all the hot, humid air clinging to his pelt and skin. Tybalt inhaled deeply and sighed, allowing his eyes to slide closed if only to block out the unfamiliar world around him. (Gotta relax, man, you got this.) His sandy ears swivel back as a stellar jay passes by with a the distinctive che-che-teeks call as it wings around the tree and into the sky. He opens one eye and watches it until it vanishes behind another row of pines.

Shy speaks up again and he huffs only to roll away from her with a petulant grumble. "Alright, mom, I got it." He snips bitingly, immediately regretting it. The emotion passes over his face; anger, irritation, guilt, and sadness. He pushes one paw forward, and watches absently as the dirt piles up in little mountains in front of his digits. "Like I haven't told myself that a million times already..." He mutters softly.

"Shush." Shylock was used to his biting retorts, especially when it came to Kaskara. It was easy to see why she was a sore subject. She didn't blame him, though; his heart was still tender from being ripped apart. It didn't excuse his temperament, but she understood him. And even if she didn't, Shylock wasn't going to turn on her brother, her flesh and blood. It wasn't in her nature.

What was in her nature, however, was a deep need for vengeance. Whether that was finding the girl and making her come back with them, or tearing her life apart in retaliation, Shylock wasn't going to find this girl and then leave her unharmed. She would taste some of the pain and humiliation Tybalt felt when she left him, high and dry, a year ago. "Stop feeling bad for yourself, brother. We're here. Let's explore and learn all we can. Mother would expect no less from us."