Let Tomorrow Wait {Private - Dakota}

[Mist]

The golden eye of Fenris is high in the sky though more westerly, and all day his light has shone down warmly on Transylvania's great expanse. Clouds are starting to roll in swiftly, however, and a cool breeze sprang up rather suddenly, gusting down from the snow-covered mountain tops. To Deor's weary Drappa the cloud shadows and cool wind are heaven sent, and she pauses for a moment, resting her weight on three of her paws, as she lifts her bloodied face towards to north, directly facing the wind. She is almost home, and though she has the strength and endurance of the best of her kind she is almost spent.

The last time she faced the darkness of night it came with a bloody battle which gave her the numerous wounds she feels now with every step. Breathing in as deeply as she can without paining her tired body too much she lowers her aching neck and limps slowly closer to Deor's borders.

Today has been, arguably the worst day of the grey fae's life. Though for these past few moments she has held herself together and has paused to simply enjoy the comfort a gentle wind gives her, this calm does not last long. As the first scents of Deor come to her, the blank-eyed Drappa stops again as if she had just run into an invisible wall of deadly spikes. So strong and devastating is the impression that she forgets even to favor her torn up left foreleg. A picture comes to her along with all the familiar scents of her pack and she closes her eyes and shakes her head, trying to banish the empty disbelief in her soul.

Chayton is dead. With this thought the reality comes rushing back to the wounded fae and hot tears flood from her burnished golden eyes. She had not seen the proud white mann in many days, and to come on him already weary in both body and soul from the fierce battle... almost tore her apart. It was only the presence of her cubs that kept her from collapsing and giving up. There was no doubt, even then, that she has much to live for - but to find Chayton in such a way... to know she will never see him again, never laugh at his silly playing or tumble with him down a snowy hill in winter...

Though she knows it would have probably been best to keep Ryu and Delilah with her, she asked them to go on ahead to the dens. She doesn't want them to see her like this, and needs some time to accept the facts of the day. Taking in a shuddering breath the wounded, bloody Drappa sways slightly and leans up against a tree. Lowering her head like a beaten young varg she howls out a cry. It is the cry of a wounded animal, and would startle and wrench any creature near enough to hear it...

[Dakota Spirit]

The sun's light was fading. It's long hours of duty now spent, the great fiery spirit was now slipping from the sky followed slowly by it's last golden rays. Soon all the land would be dark, offered light only by the lone moon and it's stars. Still, dawn was sometime off and resting gently against a nearby tree, the wolf was enjoying day's last hours. His tall frame, normally kept rigid and proud now slumped slightly, content to be imperfect when out of another's gaze. His ears were folded softly against his skull while his emerald eyes, forever roving in silent patrol across the lands, now fluttered closed as he lifted his head toward the heavens. Breathing deep the scent of wild beauty, the wolf tipped his head still higher as cool mountain air rushed down at him. The wind's torrents stirred in his coat, kicking up his spirit like a beaconing call, pulling his mind to the land of dreams and lost fantasies. It wasn't until the song continued that the wolf truly took notice. It's continued notes, lost and forlorn, were not those of his daydreams. Rather for the first time, he realized there was truly a voice on the air.

Pulling his head out of the clouds, the wolf stepped to his feet and moved tentatively toward the sound. The voice was familiar to him, one he'd identified almost instantly and yet there was a foreign quality to it. The sadness of it's ringing lament, the wounded tones...it was enough to allow him a moment of doubt. Enough for him to stay convinced that no, this was not the voice of Deor's grey Drappa. Still, he had to be sure. "Mist?", the wolf called out. He picked up his pace, his face now displaying it's customary mask of collected emotion. Rope-like muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved forward, propelling the wolf into long smooth strides. His face was that of collected emotion. His features were set in a firm stare while his eyes strained in the coming darkness, making out any detail they could in the coming darkness "Mist?"

Lifting his nose to the air, the male caught his first scent of trouble. The thick and pungent smell of blood blew toward him, carried by the once welcome breeze. It's scent offended his senses, stinging his nose in it's ferocity and filling his mind with a deep sense of foreboding trouble. Any doubt he had about the wolf waiting at Deor's boarders now ceased. The mann was close enough now, close enough to know who was calling. Suddenly the wolf sprung forward, rushing headlong toward the echoing cry of his Alpha with thought of terrible injury pounding in his mind. "Mist?!", he called again, voice echoing louder then ever. Twigs and dry leaves crackled beneath the male's pounding feet while thing branches reached out, striking at his body as he raced by. An old pain soon flared, coursing through his left front leg as the old injury reacted to so much exertion, protesting against the weight it was now being forced to bear. Still he pressed forward, felling the adrenalin course through him, soon blocking out even the pain's sensation.

Finally seeing a break in the trees, the wolf slowed. He came to a stop just before the boarders, almost frozen for an instant, unwilling to confirm what he knew waited just outside the shelter of Deor's lands. When at last he moved again, the male's steps felt heavy and slow. He limped slightly, favoring the leg he'd forced to work beyond it's means. Blood pounded in his ears, yet all seemed silent. He could not hear the sounds of the birds or the leaves beneath his feet, all senses seemed blocked. Flooded out by the overwhelming sense of dread. Emerging from the trees, the mann look around him, bright eyes blazing until at last he saw her. All but broken, the Deorian drappa stood propped against a tree, much as he had been only moments before. Her face and shining coat were tainted with the red stain of blood. It seemed painted across her, covering the beauty of her proud frame. The male stood still before his leader, almost transfixed by the scene. A stream of thoughts buzzed in his head, questions he wished to ask, curses barley held in check, and above all else concealed emotions he'd harbored for many suns. For a moment, watching the fae struggle in her haggard state, the male's face took on a look almost as pained as the one she carried. He seemed hardly able to bear it, watching her this way. Yet it was gone in a flash, locked away as his mind finally kicked in. The grey wolf needed care, she needed something. Stepping toward her Dakota lowered his head to Mist. "My god....", he whispered quietly. "Mist, what's happened to you?" Coming up beside her, the wolf fidgeted for a second unsure of where he should stand. Finding that such things seemed of little importance now, he sat quietly beside the fae. The mann's own anger, anger over the situation and whomever had participated remained concealed as he focused on Mist. Intent on only her needs. "Shh..", he whispered gently, licking some of the blood from her cheek. "Rest...and tell me what has happened."

[Mist]

The usually proud Drappa's whole form is the picture of hurting. With lowered head and blank eyes she looks down at the forest floor, the tears having recently stopped. At this point she is too tired even to weep, and though she wants to know "why?", she is almost to the point where she has accepted Chayton's death. Seeing him... his strong white and blue form marred with the crimson of his blood - undoubtedly murdered by the very pack he wished to avoid. To them he would be a traitor - weak and pitifully merciful. A snarl escapes the already raw throat of the grey fae and a spark of light returns to her eyes as she thinks of the murdering fiends who killed her mate simply because he did not wish to follow the cruel ways of his birth pack. There is no doubt in Mist mind as to what happened, and she can picture it all too vividly.

Through the blurr of her exhaustion, sorrow, and hatred, the wounded Drappa hears a familiar voice. Lifting her eyes from the ground she looks up toward the Deor borders, thinking for a moment that perhaps it was a dream. But no, just then she hears it again, this time closer and anxious. It is the recently appointed beta, and her own strong friend, Dakota - calling her name. The ebon mann soon follows his call and races softly through the woodlands, despite his haste. Mist sees him as he slows and notices his piercing emerald eyes sweeping the landscape; looking for her.

There are few vargs the blood-stained Drappa would rather see at this moment, but even this does not spur her to any action more than raising her tired head slightly. If she were more collected she surely would have noticed the apparent limp in the great beta's steps, but right now it escapes her notice. His scent is as welcome to her as the breeze had been and she leans forward slightly to take it in, grateful for a friend and to scent something other than blood. Her small movement put more weight on her torn-up left foreleg and she draws back with a low growl of pain.

After Dak's hesitation when he decides to sit next to him Mist just shakes her head at his question. Leaning up against him she takes a shuddering breath and closes her eyes, willing her spirit to be calm. Swallowing and taking another deep breath she lifts her head and watches Dak as he gently licks some of the blood off her cheek. The silence stretches between them as she tries to push aside the apathy that is threatening to take her over. There are so few words that could even begin to explain what happened. When she saw Chayton this morning it was like her heart was ripped in two by a vicious demon, and though that pain is not so immediate now with all her physical hurts, it will take a while for her to heal. She had grown used to her mate being absent from Deor more often than not, and even had started to grow used to him being away from her. There was always worry... now there is no need to worry; she knows the worst.

"Chayton is dead." The Drappa's voice is rough with emotion and too much use, and she lowers her head again, leaning into Dak's soft neck fur. She thinks of the words that he actually asked her and thinks it is rather ironic that she answered with a completely different subject - though one that hurts no less. "I... fought... with Ayame." She says more softly this time, not thinking about the fact that the black beta most likely doesn't know the Listern fae's name or anything about her. When she speaks again her voice is little more than a whisper, and in it is the full brunt of her exhaustion. "Thank you for coming Dak..."

((meh, it's kinda disjointed and didn't turn out how I wanted it to. Sorry!))

[Dakota Spirit]

Feeling the fae press up against him, Dakota's body went rigid in an effort to support her. The grey drappa, previously so proud in his eyes seemed utterly broken. It was a harsh sight, burning in his eyes until the male was sure it would forever be branded within his mind. How tainted she seemed now. All the goodness of her heart spent as it was forced to endure the cruel slice of reality. Regardless of how good things seemed to get, the life of wolves often seemed equally destined for despair. Unsympathetic elements and evil beyond understanding lashed out at them, bringing down loved ones and wearing down the will of one's soul until there was nothing left to give. Until their bodies gave out and their minds simply slipped away. Looking down at Mist, the great black mann felt despair tear at his heart. Once more he saw his friends falling and once more he felt powerless to stop it.

With his ears pricked to catch her soft voice, Dakota listened intently to the few details Mist offered. Chayton? The name was all but meaningless to him, having never met the ivory male Dak knew only that he was Mist's long absent mate. Momentarily he stopped to wonder what had kept the Hunter away for so long. What possible problem or desire had urged the mann to all but abandon his mate? To leave her alone with his children until at last his death brought them back together...if even for a moment. And what of the fae? Had she endured those long periods alone as a necessity? Had she accepted them? Had her love lasted despite the neglect she suffered? Fresh anger flared in the Beta's heart and he mused over their relationship. Mist should have never been abandoned like that...for whatever reason. However, it was not his place nor his concern how she conducted her relationship with Chayton. So rather then voicing his concerns the mann said only what made sense to him at the time. "Mist...", he whispered softly. "I am so sorry for your loss. No one should have to experience what you have...a hurt in which no words could heal. It's possible that the only solace can be found in remembering that one day you will see him again, upon the Red Meadow you will run with your mate as you once did." The words came smoothly from him, natural as if he truly believed in their sentiments. As if he truly believed the gods were still watching over them, present situations to the contrary. It was no matter though. Dakota would have said anything then, anything to end the pain surrounding the two wolves.

Soon, yet another admission came from the silver Drappa. A fight? For Dak, the idea of Mist fighting seemed even more foreign then the site of her in such turmoil. He knew she would protect herself and her loved ones, he'd seen that spark of defiance himself. Yet the marks upon her body suggested more then a mer scrap but rather a bloody altercation. Dakota did not know the name Ayame nor did he know how his alpha had come to fight her - but again those details mattered very little to him. As did the fact that Mist had somehow ended up fighting on her own, without any to aid at her side. No, the dark male understood the concept of private battles. He knew not the cause of Mist's anger toward this Ayame but he knew enough not to question it. Perhaps she would speak to him on her own...but he would not question the fae. Would not call into doubt her judgment. "As for your fight...", he said simply. "The wounds will heal, my friend. One has only the most basic right to defend themselves...as you have done. I am sure it contributed to your already raw emotion...but try not to doubt yourself. Do not think of those actions as anything less then necessary." Offering the smallest smile, Dak gave the fae what little happiness he could muster for her.

Breathing deep, Dakota placed one strong leg across the fae's smaller paw. "Take heart.", he whispered, repeating the advice he'd given her on their first encounter. "I will help you with this if I can...all you need do is ask."

[Mist]

Being leader of a pack, even with equal sharing of the responsibilities is a heavy burden, and Mist's shoulders are already bent with the weight of sorrow and exhaustion. The one thought on the matter that filters through the dimness of her mind is that she is sure Dak will understand. Out of all her friends and fellow packmembers, if one had to see her like this - broken, if even temporarily, and tired, with her proud head drooping like it will never be held high again. The first time Mist and Dak met - truly met and spoke to each other, they felt comfortable and as equals. Much was said at that time and many hardships spoken of - their weight lessened in the telling. Remembering then when Dak had told her of his sorrows and most pressing matters, she knows he will accept her even as she is now, and will not judge on this time when their paths cross in the future.

She softly explains to him her situation, in short statements, trying her best to keep calm. The strong presence of the beta does more to reassure her and keep her from falling apart completely than all the deep breaths and self-talking in the world. As his voice comes to her ears she looks up at him, her tired eyes meeting his concerned emerald ones. She nods slightly, believing this, but realizes now that she does not wish that time to come for many years. There will be a time when she is ready to run through the Red Meadow with all her loved ones that have gone, and will go before her. But for now she has many things - and many such loved ones - to live for.

Before she answers his second question she thanks him again, knowing his kindness and concern to be truly real. "I know... that will be a joyous meeting..." Looking back up at him her eyes are fully clear for the first time this day. "I think... I am not ready for that time though." There are a few short moments of silence before she speaks up again, telling of her fight. His words are kind once more and a small, grateful smile appears on her tired face, lasting only for a moment, but still, it was there. It disappears as she speaks again, her words bringing images back to her mind that will pain her each time she sees them in her memory.

"I... I found Chayton on my way back to Deor. I do not think I would have been able to fight if I had known he was dead before then." Glancing down at her blood covered form she nods slowly, wincing at even the sight of the vicious spiral-shaped scars on her shoulder and down almost the entire length of her leg. "Yes, they will heal. Perhaps faster than those that come with memory."There are few things the proud mann could have said next that would comfort her more, as those two simple words remind her of their first meeting - and the first time she trusted and admired him. He had told her then of his friend, and his quest to redeem that same friend, and she had done her best to rekindle the hope in his heart, telling him of her own trust and belief in him, that he could do his best and know that it was good enough. "Take heart." She repeats softly and leans against him again, sighing deeply, and closing her eyes as he puts his leg over her paw, giving her not only comfort in words, but gently as well. "I think I will need you, Dak, in these days to come. Your very presence is a comfort. Thank you."

Looking toward Deor's borders she wearily gets to her paws, avoiding any weight on her torn-up foreleg. Sighing she blinks, feeling Fenris' dying fire gently on her wounded body. "I am almost spent, Dak... will you help me back into the packlands?" She asks softly, knowing that with his promise to help her he would not refuse, but thinking it best to ask anyway.

[Dakota Spirit]

Silent and still beside the fae, Dak listens to her words fall softly from tired lips. His head is spinning, lost in thought and concern. How long had it been? How long since the grey alpha had found him upon his site of battle, with blood painting both his body and the grass beneath his feet? How long since he'd shown her his true self, the raw emotion just beneath his mask? How long since he'd told her everything would be alright? Now sitting here with the scent of Mist's lifeblood fogging his senses, the male realized it hadn't been very long at all. Between then and now he'd had a taste of the good life. A taste of family. Now with the death of her mate and the scaring of her once unbreakable spirit, the Deorian Beta could feel his hopes dying with the sparkle in his companion's tired eyes. With this the darkness came, immovable by even the sweetest words he could fathom. Watching the fae beside him, Dak settled on these facts. Realizing in that instant that he had nothing beyond this moment. That the importance of Mist's revival was more then something he wanted, but rather something he needed. Like a guiding force she'd brought peace to the male. Grounded him in his life and in his beliefs. If something happened, if that bond were to be severed...Dakota would soon find himself right back where he'd started. This time perhaps, too far gone to warrant saving.

Turning his emerald eyes upon her face, the mann's lips pulled into a small tight smile. "Good.", he said in response to her words. "'Cause I'm not quite ready for that time, either." The sentiments came from his mouth almost of their own accord, quietly whispered all in the same breath. His eyes watched her carefully before turning away. Not so much looking for a reaction as they were, for a moment, unable to turn away. So much emotion ran across his Drappa's face, each detail of her pain seeming to force it's way to the surface until it too had a mark upon her skin. Again his own features flashed in pain to match her own, a cold and dark emotion that bore into his heart with it's icy touch. For despite all his brawn and valiant attitude, the male felt all but helpless beside his friend. Time and again he'd been forced to endure this realization and each time he'd been unable to stop the fall of those he'd been close to. Each time he'd lost and each time he'd dropped one step closer to losing it completely.

With her next bit of speech the male nods slowly, knowing the words to be true. "Yes..", he said. "Death and pain...take the heart from us all. Its lasting effects are truly what change us, what hinder our state of mind. Time can heal...though sometimes the healing comes too late." Dak wasn't meaning to be negative, to be anything less then supportive, but his heart still remained heavy. For her words reminded him again of his own recent trials. "We all have our demons...", he whispered quietly before turning back to the fae. "But you're strong enough to beat them. I know you are."

Yet it's Mist's last words that truly get Dak in motion. Not only does she express her appreciation, but the fae is ready to proceed. Ready to move. This, the mann knows he can help with. More useful here then with words Dakota feels his resolve hardened at the thought of finally having something more tangible to do. "Ok.", he said quietly in response. "Ok. I can do that." Shifting carefully under her wight, the mann moved to his feet before walking slowly around the fae's slumped body. Coming up upon her uninjured side had given Dak a somewhat clouded idea as to just how hurt Mist was. Now, cataloging the gashes to her skin, the dark male realizes how truly lucky she was to escape with her life. Still, he does not question her motives or reasons for venturing out alone. Instead, Dak simply moves to his previous position beside the fae and away from her most grievous of cuts. Away from the vicious mark now snaking down her opposite leg.

Placing full wight upon his own bad leg, Dak felt new bolts of pain shoot through the bone and up his shoulder until the flesh throbbed with fresh sensation. Yet he pressed down in it sharply, pushing his body to ignore the pain and endure not only his own weight but the added pressure that Mist would soon bring. Turning to the fae, he flashed his teeth in a brilliant smile before announcing "Good as new!" and standing up straighter then before. "Come, my lady, he whispered. "I can support you. I will lead you home."

[Heh, emo/cheesy writing FTW!]

[Mist]

There is no way for Mist to know all the thoughts flowing through Dak's mind - his memories mixed with wondering of what might have been... completely escape the tired Drappa's insights. It is strange what she does think, and what thoughts escape her now, when they would have been expected to be foremost on her mind. As the images flash through her mind she winces as if in almost physical pain from them. Of course she often sees Chayton's face - his smile and serious expression almost at the same time... but as her mind clears she sees other things too, which, if she could more easily be surprised now, would surprise her. Taking a deep breath she wishes she could talk to him once again - that he had not been alone when he died. Well... she must stick to her belief that he is in the Red Meadow now - and she will see him again. A small smile comes to her face as she thinks of another belief that she follows along with this. If he is in the Red Meadow now, he can see her - and knows her thoughts and sorrows - and he would not want her to give up.

With this thought the Drappa straightens her shoulders and looks like she could actually be the same fae that left Deor not three days ago. She will stay strong, not only for Chayton and his memory, but for her family, and her pack. Looking up at the sky she smiles faintly, thinking of Chayton looking down at her. When she lowers her eyes they have some of their normal proud sparkle in them, and she feels calmer than she has since this morning when she found him. Looking now at her strong companion with clear eyes and an expression of one who has gone through much pain and many ordeals, but has all along refused to be broken or to let go.

Hearing Dak's words in response to her own she nods slowly, before speaking up again in a soft, calm voice. "That is why we have faith." Nuzzling the black beta gently as if to thank him for his words and his kindness she smiles a small smile. "No, you are right in some things - but this healing will not come too late. I think... that I have enough strength to continue, knowing hope is always there, if you know where to look and can continue believing in it. Plus... I couldn't let you down..." The ash-grey fae's words now are much different from her dark spirits of earlier, but she feels full of hope now, and faith - as if Chayton's spirit brushed against hers for a moment to give her strength and to tell her softly - like a whisper to a sleeping love - that it is not over. Life continues, and so does love.

Though her spirit is strong enough to continue, her body is still weak and pained, and as she shifts her weight slightly Mist winces, the elated moment of before coming to a stand-still as she focuses on her physical pain. Knowing she would very possibly not be able to make it back to the pack dens without help she softly asks the strong beta for his support. Watching him as he walks around her she notices his scrutinizing look at the worst of her wounds, and realizes that he had not seen them before. When he spoke of wounds healing perhaps he did not know how long it would take for these to do so - but as she replied then, they will heal, even if it will take longer than previously anticipated.

Having been fully distraught and pained when Dak first came to her side, Mist had not seen his limping stride, but now, as he winces from the weight put on the old wound, she notices his pain and a soft whine escapes her throat. She does not believe his cheerful words, but decides to comment on them later, for now gratefully leaning on his strong back and keeping weight off her wounded leg and shoulder. As they make their slow way back to the center of Deor's territory, the Drappa speaks softly, wondering something and thinking this is not a bad time to ask. "Dak, what was it that really made you decide to stay in Deor? When you came back with me, you weren't sure if you would stay... and then, now you are. What convinced you?"

[Dakota Spirit]

Taking in the Drappa's wise words, Dakota felt his spirits rise slightly with her sentiments. "I have faith.", he said softly in response. Faith in those I trust...in their strength. Nodding his head slightly, the mann paused before adding a final admission. "I have faith in you, Mist. You couldn't let me down. Not even if you tried your hardest.

Smiling at Mist as she leaned against him, Dak proceeded to take slow short steps forward. He sees the small difference in his friend, the light in her, now not quite so dim. Her touch warms his skin and he feels her strength, still there in her heart. Yes...", the male thought silently to himself. She will survive this, yet." We can go to the dens.", he rumbled quietly, muzzle close to the fae's ear. "You can rest until your strength returns and I will watch over you...get you what you need. Whatever you need." It's the alpha's last question though, that catches him off guard. It was a valid question, one he had perhaps been expecting on some level...just not then. Not when the reasons were so fresh and new in his mind. Truth though...honesty, it was a trait that had been present in their relationship from the very start. Why should he hide now? Why should he keep his emotions locked away from one of the few he knew would understand?

Clearing his throat, Dak's deep voice soon filled the otherwise quite air. "I stayed for a few reasons.", he said simply. "I found something here...something that had been missing from my life. A sense of belonging perhaps. In Deor...I was needed. He stopped, reflecting on how true these words were. How the spark of spirit that had been born in him when he met with Dane had flared to life within the confines of Deor. How the pack life he'd once thought restricting now seemed ideal. "I've never been needed.", he added quietly. "Not until now." Then, stopping in his tracks, Deor's beta turned to his leader and smiled at her softly. "...and I stayed for you.", he added. "Perhaps you don't realize it, but you've grown to be more then just a friend in my life. You were a guiding light, the leader to my salvation. I'll not forsake your lands again."

Turning his head back to the path they would travel, the mann spoke his admission one more time. It fell from his lips in a wispy breath, little more then would be the voice of a passing ghost. "I stayed for you."

[Mist]

Hearing the reassuring words of her companion Mist drops her eyes for just a moment before looking back up at the handsome green-eyed mann. A small smile makes its way to her face and she nods. "The fact that I would try my hardest not to let you down helps in that." She pauses for a moment before continuing, thinking of strength and how it comes in so many different forms - that every varg, every living creature has strength of their own, even if it is little perceived by the world around them. "Strength..." She whispers. "Such a small word... but with so many different meanings. You've given me some of your strength today, Dak. Before you came, I didn't think I had the strength to go on, and now we are able to have this conversation. It is good that you have faith in others - there are many who have faith in you."

As she gratefully leans on him and they move slowly forward she nods again, understanding the wisdom of his words. She had not thought of any destination besides getting back to Deor, but, considering it will take a long while for her to be completely herself again, the dens are the best place for her to rest and wait for healing. His gentle, kind promises to watch over her and bring her anything she needs, hits her heart directly and she realizes in his soft words how much Dakota Spirit truly means to her. She leans forward slightly and licks his cheek, knowing that, at least right now there is no possible way for her to express her feelings, especially since they conflict with others and her mind. Dak... I know words are inadequate, but... thank you."

Her quiet, thoughtful question has an interesting effect on her strong companion, and she feels his muscles tense slightly instead of him pausing in stride - surely he has her in mind even then, and wouldn't want to throw off her balance. They make their slow way back to the center of Deor's territory and she waits silently for his response, wondering now even more what it will be. His words "I was needed..." make her smile and nod, thinking that because of her situation now it is even more fortunate that he decided to stay after all. Following these thoughts are his continued words, and if she had been only on her own four paws she most likely would have been the one to pause. A moment later she does as he does, and she watches him, green eyes meeting golden.

When they first met she had done little. They immediately felt comfortable with each other - enough so for Dak to tell her of his quest and hidden pains. But even with this knowledge she still feels like she did little - but then she realizes how much a friend can mean to someone who is alone - how much just listening can help someone who needs to speak. It practically takes her breath away - hearing those four soft words, and she gently leans her head on his strong neck, again feeling that words aren't enough.

Standing there with her eyes closed for a few quiet moments she thinks about the months since they met - and how, since then, she has practically taken Dak's presense for granted. From everyday duties to Genocide's intrusion and cocky threat, he has been close by. Another thought comes to her as she recalls their first meeting. "Dak..." She starts softly, an inquiring tone in her voice. "Have you thought more about Dane?" It is a fairly random question for such a time, but since it relates specifically to both of them because it would mean Dak's absence from Deor if he were to leave on the final leg of his journey. "I know you have, but do you know what you are going to do, or when you would leave?" Knowing of Dak's connection with his fallen friend she wonders greatly what will end up happening. It would be wonderful if Dane were to leave the darkness of Sarnes and turn his life around... but... only time will tell.

[Dakota Spirit]

With the fae's words, Dak's mouth turned up in a pleased grin. The confirmed his place in the pack, showing him that this truly was his path to happiness. For Mist had given him more then just thanks. She'd told him he wanted to hear all along, that his strength, his dedication had finally paid off. That even if it was just for a day, he'd been able to act as the grounding force for another. Feeling Mist's warm touch across his cheek, the male turned slightly, his green eyes sparkling in contentment. With a soft rumble in his throat Dak laughs off her words, brushing his blocky muzzle softly across her neck. The Deorian drappa may never know it, but her thanks were more then enough.

Things seemed to have taken a different turn as the two wolves ventured into their home land, each comfortable in the companionship of the other, almost to a degree higher then they'd displayed previously. For the male, this was both a heartening and troubling time. He'd been harboring sudden affection for the silver alpha for some time now, keeping his distance though in respects to her status and relationship with Chayton. However, now that the ivory mann had recently been found dead a whole new set of problems seemed to be brooding on the horizon. For one thing, Dakota soon found himself experiencing sharp waves of guilt over the closeness he was sharing with the scout's widowed mate. Her emotions were bound to be raw, after all and he wondered if he was unintentionally taking advantage of the situation. Momentarily the mann's handsome face creased in worry, but it didn't last long. A quick glance at his companion dispelled his doubts or at least pushed them from the forefront of his mind. Mist was just as strong and convicted as he was, surely she would speak up if uncomfortable. He just had to careful not to let his own feelings sway his duty to care for her in the ways she required.

Pricking his dark ears at her question, Dak took a moment to think before answering.When was he planning to go for his friend? Not to long ago the dark male had made a promise to Dane, his grey 'brother', a promise in which he had told his friend that when the time was right he would come for him. That he would take him away from the sacred land he now made his home in. The question was, when is the right time? Truthfully, Dakota had never anticipated this little venture in Deor. He had never planned upon running into the new Drappa and following her back to her shaded lands. Likewise he had planned upon visiting for only a few days and then leaving soon after. Things hadn't seemed destined to be that way however, as the mann soon found himself dwelling in Deor for an extended period of time. With that came a pledge to remain in the lands and a promotion to follow closely at it heels. No, it seemed life had taken Dakota in it's own hands, turning him in a direction he had never thought possible.

Flicking his eyes to the fae's golden gaze for a moment, the black Beta nodded his head slightly. "Yes...", he murmured. "I think long on the trials of my friend...and how I must leave soon. I feel now that the time is coming." He paused, squinting his eyes in the blazing sun's set. "Though I despair now to thing chances or slim of him recovering. I thought I saw a spark of the old Dane in his eyes...there at the end of our fight, but now it seems like such a frail hope. I do not know the lands of Sarnes beyond rumor...I do not know how deep his pains might run. I think truthfully, I'll not have a plan till I get there. Till I see things for myself." Another dry laugh came from his throat as the male finished, a touch of bitterness coating his throat. "Time will tell.", he said softly. "As you say, one must have faith. It's possible I'll come to find I despaired for no reason at all."

Finally, tipping his head in Mist's direction, Dakota offered up the lopsided grin he'd often worn in his youth. "As for my leaving...", he said. "I'll take care not to venture off until I am sure you are on the mend. Truly, my dear...that leg will pain you for awhile to come." Winking one bright eye at her, the mann grinned broader then before. "Though perhaps you'll be lucky and not end up a slight hitch as I have. Either way, you'll not have to worry of my departure for quite some time." Laughing fully for the first time, Dak's voice thundered brightly from within him. "I'm sorry, friend.", he finally managed. "But you're stuck with me."

[Mist]

Dak's evidently pleased grin warms Mist's heart and, despite her aching heart and body, she can't help but smile softly in reply. His gentle brush against her neck makes her think many things at once, and she blinks, looking at his face as if trying to see something hidden. She doesn't know what to think, and though she can actually think of the future without wondering how she'll live each day, it is confusing - these thoughts and feelings pressing themselves on her mind and heart. There is one comforting thing in all her confusion - she knows that Dak would never do anything to hurt her, and even without his promises she trusts him to help her throughout her healing and for as long as they are together.

As the thought comes to her mind of the dark beta helping not only her, but his childhood friend, she asks him about Dane, and listens quietly to his response. She knows he has been planning this for a long time - an eternity it seems, for how could their first meeting have been such a short time ago? Though she half-expected him to say he would be leaving soon, she flinches almost imperceptibly as something in her wishes greatly that he wouldn't leave - that he would wait with her, by her side. Nodding, outwardly calm, she sighs softly as she thinks of all the trials Dak will inevitably go through to try and help his friend. Neither the lands of Sarnes or the journey there are welcoming or easy, and even though Deor and the swamp pack are technically neutral, she cannot imagine those dark vargs welcoming a Deorian into their midst with welcome arms.

As watches him he looks toward the sunset and she can see the reflection of the sun's burning image in his emerald eyes - like green fire tinted russet. She has no doubt that he will do everything possible for his friend. The spark in his eyes brought to flame by the sun-god's dying light has convinced her of this even though his words tell of his knowledge of the hardships ahead. Leaning her head forward once more to gently nuzzle him right by his ear, she smiles gently as his tone turns more hopeful and he repeats her words of faith. "Indeed, time will tell. I can tell you know some of the hardships that lie ahead, for this road will not be easy... No, you will not despair even if it doesn't end how you hope." She lowers her eyes for a moment as she thinks of all she has heard of Sarnes. She has never crossed into that pack's shadowy lands, but, as much as she would like Dak to have company, she does not envy him his duty and knows it is his alone to complete. "Every day when you are gone I will pray to Tor for your safety and success."

She hopes her words might help even a little, but, as she should have known he is not one to stay sorrowful for long or to dwell on things that cannot be helped. His lopsided grin is infectious and she bumps his head with her own, making sure she doesn't jar her injuries too much. "Oh you..." She chides him softly. There is no real reason for it, but she seems to feel that it fits. Glancing down at the wicked spiral-shaped wounds that are raw and red on her shoulder and leg she nods, thinking he surely will be right. Feeling fiery pain with every step no matter how much his support helps, it almost doesn't seem as if she can remember what it was like not to feel pain. Despite all this her eyes sparkle slightly and she smiles. "Oh yes, and we can have matching limps... That will be such fun." The sarcasm in her voice is not bitter, but amused, as she cannot feel bitter for long when her strong knight is by her side.

A yawn threatens to split her jaw after her amused tones and she winces as it is over, feeling the deep scratches on her cheek and maw protesting at the ill treatment. "Oh good." She says, the weariness apparent in her tones. "If I have to be "stuck" with someone, I'm quite happy that it's you, darling." It is so easy to talk to him, and even in a strange situation she feels comfortable with him. The last word seems to slip out of her maw of its own accord, mischievously thinking to push emotions out into the open even more than they have, and break the thin surface under which they are hiding.

[Dakota Spirit]

Smiling across at her, Dak soon found his emerald eyes locked on the Drappa's pretty face. He watched her lips move, speaking words that he'd not ever had applied to himself. Expressions of faith and support that he'd longed to hear for moons now, since the early days of his youth. In a manner, Dak had been trapped in his mind, restricted to his childhood days when he was lost and alone, desperate for the love of another but unable to have such things. Even during his early years, all throughout his first venture in Deor and in the making of new friends...he'd remained somewhat guarded, always waiting for the crushing blow of reality to come in and sweep away the happiness. When such things did happen, it only served to harden his convictions, showing him that yes, destiny and fate were not to be trusted. That truly the only want of stopping the pain was avoiding situations that may result in such broken feelings, regardless of how steady they'd seemed at the time. He'd lived alone this way, cold and reserved, adamant in shutting that portion of his life away...yet still quietly wishing, hoping for one more chance at harmony.

"Thank you.", he said simply. It didn't seem important or relevant that the male's faith in his god's had been broken moons before - no he was glad to have the fae's blessing, from wherever she could get them. There was also the added benefit of the effect he figured such thoughts must have on his companion. Mist had always been supportive of him, ignoring his doubts with words of wisdom and strength. Yet the dark male still wondered now more then ever, what kind of effect his leaving would have on her. If for no other reason then the fact that he was sure to stir up trouble in a pack neutral to the Deorians. "If it makes her feel better to pray...", he thought quietly. "Then let her carry on. The gods may not answer to me...but perhaps they favor one of their elegant daughters."

Laughing lightly at the fae's cheerful sarcasm, Dak winked at her. "Of course it'll be fun.", he chuckled. "I can support you, you can support me...it'll be a bonding experience. Though...we would be together a lot and I don't know if I could take that." Leaning in close, the mann's pink tongue swiped across her face, disposing of a bit more blood from the fae's silver face. "But I suppose...", he added. I suppose if I have to be wounded buddies with someone, you'll do nicely." Winking again, Dak flashed a smile and turned his gaze back to path ahead of them. Walking a few more steps, Dakota suddenly felt his stomach rumble harshly in sudden protest. It seemed like an eternity now, between his last meal and these moments. Couples with the sun's last efforts to warm the earth and Dak felt his energy waining fast.

"Well, my dear.", he said inwardly pleased that the fae had used an equally soft term with him. "I dunno about you, but I'm near starved. Care to stop for a moment or two?" Tipping his pointed muzzle in the direction of a particularly soft patch of grass he said "You can wait there while I hunt." Lopsided grin appearing back upon his maw, Dak felt himself opening up further. Rekindling in the fae's presence at least, his old mischievous side. "If you're real good...", he breathed. "I might bring you back something. Now how does that sound?"

[/color]

[Mist]

"Thank me when you come home safe. Then it will show that my prayers were answered - and were not just promised words." Feeling in her heart that, whether or not the ebon knight will be successful in his venture, he will return safely to her, a soft smile puts itself on her face. Perhaps it is just the fact that the weary Drappa could not face the prospect of losing another loved one, but she does not even allow the thought of the possibility of Dak coming back hurt to cross her mind. No, he will be alright, and she will be waiting for him. It has never really occured to Mist not to believe in the gods. Even in the face of hardship she realizes that life goes on - death is a part of that life, and despair only leads to worse things. She has always felt that the knowledge of the gods being there as comforting, but does know that there are others who don't believe in them or ask how such terrible things can happen if they are truly there. Life goes on...

Shaking her head at the amused look in Dak's eyes the silver-grey Drappa laughs softly herself. "Hmm, all that time with you. I'm not sure if I'll be able to handle it." Another somewhat musical peal of laughter escapes her lips and she winks at him. "If you can, I suppose I can as well." Dak's tongue on her wounded cheek is so gentle, and somewhat comforting that she pauses a moment before continuing, a smile playing on her face once more. “Wounded buddies, hmm? Yes, I think you’ll do fine as well. I can just see vargs asking us why we’re together so much.” Straightening her face she lifts her head and turns slightly, as if talking to an imaginary varg. “Oh, what? We’re wounded buddies. Oh, you know. We have to rely on each other and help each other out. It’s a special sort of bonding.” Turning away from her imaginary varg, she grins at the mann and shrugs faintly. “Or you know what I mean. Heh, maybe I’m just being delirious or something… Or, maybe I’m just a little strange in general.” Winking at him she shakes her head at herself in amusement, knowing he won’t hold it against her.

Despite the numerous distractions from her pain and oncoming exhaustion, Mist feels her weakness threatening to take over her again. The loud rumble of Dak’s stomach and his suggestion are quite welcome to her and she nods, thinking that soft patch of grass looks rather inviting right now. “I imagine I could stand to eat something, love.” The last word was like her previous mischievous last-word, but the effect this one has is more drastic, and Mist’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at how easily she said that to the ebon mann, and how right it seems. The silence afterwards is slightly awkward, but, chancing on a whim the Drappa leans forward slightly and licks his cheek, as if telling him that, perhaps it was not completely unintentional. Even if her mind did not register the fact, her heart has been certain of it.

Reaching the soft patch of grass, Mist gratefully lowers herself into its cool comfort. Looking up into Dak’s twinkling emerald eyes she raises her un-wounded brow and then tries to look innocent. “Hmm, and what must I do to be good? Sit here and wait for you, silently cheering you on in your hunt?” Shifting her weight so she is as comfortable as possible, but making sure to avoid jarring the worst of her wounds she makes sure she is quiet now. Nudging her head over to her left she indicates the direction that would be best for him to go. “I’d suggest that way. Blood is a rather pungent smell, and that’s upwind, so any lera around won’t be alerted to our presence because of me. Good luck in your hunt. I’ll try to be good while you’re gone.” Winking once more at him she lowers her head onto her outstretched right foreleg, avoiding her torn left as she will for many days to come.

[Dakota Spirit]

Were one to look in on the two travelers, someone familiar with their behaviors...it would seem that the male at least, had taken on a different persona. His face was alive, full of emotion and spirit, breaking free of the rigid grimace it typically held. His movements were animated, tending the weight of his companion but full of spring as he walked, standing tall beside her. There was a sense of contentment in his bright eyes, shining through the smile etched across his maw. Even the male himself could not remember a time when he was so at ease, no free of worry and burden. His care for the silver fae was far from such duties, coming across instead as a much needed lapse in duties. A chance to enjoy himself. It was easy with the fae, easy to forget the tragedy that laced their situation. He looked only ahead of them, eager for the things to come.

Laughing at Mist's antics, Dak's deep voice echoed around them. "Crazy.", he agreed. "The Deorian Drappa has finally gone crazy. Besides...", he added slyly. "Perhaps that's only a cover story. Maybe there's another reason for all this hanging around...I'm not that nice a guy, you know." His face was creased in mischievous play, yet another trait that had been lacking from him in most recent times. "I wouldn't be doing this for just anyone." Such statements were only partially true of course. Dak knew his responsibilities, he knew what loyalty was...and he would have treated any of his kin with the same support, had they shown up injured. Yet it would have been more a formality then anything else, something he understood to be a task that needed doing. With Mist it was never like that.

Feeling the weight of her lift away from him, Dak watched carefully as Mist settled herself in the grass. His expression grew suddenly sober as she moved, struggling to get comfortable. "No no...", he whispered in response to her continued play, no longer feeling the joy to continue. "You just rest. Sleep if you can...whatever you must do to regain the energy you need." One corner of his mouth tipped up in a half smile as she suggests what would be good start for his hunt. "That shall be my path, then." he murmured. Yet though his kidding spirit had lessoned, the fae's tender words had not escaped his ears. Suddenly leaning in close to the drappa, Dak pressed the side if his face against her's. "Love.", he whispered, repeating her. "That is something you shall never be lacking of." He paused, breathing in deep the scent of her pelt as his eyes shut momentarily. "For I am here now...", he continued. "And my heart holds you in high regard." Things seemed so muddled now, with him not sure how to react to his growing feelings and the fae injured to a degree unknown to him. The word seemed to take one step forward and two back, offering him happiness but bringing with it confusion and unease. Still, what scraps of happiness that did come were well worth it to the male...and he'd take the bad along with it if that's what it took to regain his life. So it was that he'd taken a chance then, opening his soul to the fae without fear of retribution. For even if Mist proved to hold nothing similar to his sentiments, he knew she would do nothing to hurt him.

"I'll be back soon.", he said, breaking contact. "I promise to bring you something nice." Then moving of a few steps, Dak started down the path Mist had suggested to him. Turning back only once to be sure she was alright, he watched as Mist lay her head down mindful of all the hurts plaguing her form. Then silently continuing forward Dak disappeared into the trees, searching for something they both could thrive on.

[Mist]

Shaking her weary head with a smile on her face Mist lowers her eyes to the ground for a moment before raising them again and meeting his emerald ones and seeing the sparkle in them. "Ah well, perhaps the craziness will pass, and we'll be able to go on with life as it has always been." She laughs softly at his reaction to her antics and then winks. "Oh, really? Might I ask what your ulterior motive is for staying then? Especially since there's a chance that I might have finally gone at least temporarily cookoo?" Nuzzling his neck softly she raises her uninjured brow questioningly. No, darling? I must say, I'm honored for you to stay by me through all this... especially since I need you now, more than ever." Settling down as gently as she can into the patch of soft grass, Mist looks back up at Dak once she has gotten comfortable. A gentle smile flickers across her face and she nods. ”I’ll cheer you on your hunt in my dreams then, how does that sound?” With these words her voice is as gentle as her smile as she fervently wishes him luck.

She feels her body protesting the long journey she has just had and knows her spirit could use the silent rest as well. Though something in that spirit has allowed her to see the light through the darkness, she has not forgotten the events of the past two days and knows without a doubt that they will have a profound effect on her for many days to come. The gentle touch of Dak’s face on hers brings her back to the present and she smiles again. His words are ones she never thought to hear such again, and it is strange, but wonderful. The ebon mann’s strength… and love, are what she does need right now, and though the future is muddled, she leans into his touch fearing nothing. Blinking as he softly pulls away she feels herself nodding. Lying her aching head down into the soothing grass she watches him pad silently off in the direction she indicated and then closes her heavy eyelids, falling swiftly into a deep, healing sleep.

Unaware of any and all happenings around her the Drappa sleeps deeply, unconscious of all her wounds – both physical and spiritual. In the merciful darkness of such sleep she ventures, knowing nothing, for if she did, she would surely ask the gods to bless Dakota’s hunt, and to bless her and allow her to swiftly heal while forgetting the despairing times necessary for her to move on and live her life fully.

There is no sense of time in the dark land of dreams and sleep, so when Mist first begins dreaming, so has no knowledge of outside time – of how long it has been since she first feel asleep. The first images she sees are of her family – Ryu and Delilah as tiny cubs tumbling around Deor’s dens, and their first steps. The dream changes and she sees them how they are now – almost grown up – two young vargs she can so easily be proud of. She twitches slightly in her sleep as she feels, rather than sees, pain enter the dream, and she immediately knows what it is. The all-to-clear image of Chayton's torn and bloody body flashes before her and she whines, feeling her heart ache as if torn. Wishing she could do more to comfort her children and wondering what Chayton, surely now in the Red Meadow, sees as he looks down on his small family, she sees an image of herself with her two cubs as they comfort each other.

Seeming to rise above that scene, her dream-self blinks in surprise as she sees Chayton again, but this time, alive and well. He is smiling at her – that familiar, slightly playful look, and through her tears she can’t help but smile with him, knowing that as long as he is truly not gone, it is alright. She must just keep believing that she will see him again, and she will never lose hope. After all, surely a varg in the Red Meadow who wants everything good for their family still living, has more influence with the gods than does one living as well. Throughout the rest of her life she knows he will be a true comfort, even if everything else seems completely dark. In an instant she has this knowledge, and feels warm – comforted, but still not quite ready to let him go. Though her spirit may have come to peace, her whole being together has not. The very real Chayton of a moment before starts to fade, and another whine escapes her already raw throat – this one heard in the world of the living as well as simply that of dreams. It is a gut-wrenching sound and she feels as if it is so unfair that he is leaving her again. Shaking her head she strains her eyes in the oncoming darkness of the ending dream and tears flow silently from her golden eyes as she looks into the darkness, knowing he truly is dead, and the pain from the dream is pain in her life as well.