Always find my way home (open)

[Silve]

A soft wind blew through the tall trees of the packlands of Deor. Upon it was carried the scents of many creatures-Varg, squirrel, rabbit, and even a stale scent of a herd of deer that must have passed by the previous evening. Nearly two full seasons had passed since the last time the traveller had come upon these scents, this mixture. The smell of home. Her moonbeam maw came open in a melancholy smile, somber, though her eyes were twinkling with a light that shone for all beings. It was not the squirrel or the rabbit that inspired a wild hunger. It was not the deer, or the sound of the bubbling stream. It was the heady scent of many wolves mingled together, many familiar, some not so. The slender three-year-old whimpered low in her throat before murmuring softly, quietly, "Well, I am home."

It was not quite the happy exhalation that one utters when returning to a place of peace and plenty after a famine seemingly ages long. It was a statement of truth, with a ring of relief underlying the heavy exhaustion, the fierce sadness that permeated her being. Her once brilliant pelage was not even near its former granduer. It was messy, matted, stringy. Once meticulously cleaned, it was a blur of dried blood, mud, and other things better left on the ground where they belonged. The hard bones of her spine created subtle bumps along her back, her heaving sides making visible the sharp lines of her ribs. Supple musculature and quiet strength had been whipped from her. Silve, a scout of Deor, adopted mother of Koiji, friend to Mist, had been harshly treated by the wilds since her paw had last known the gentle forest floor for Deor. Behind her was left a trail of blood, her paws, raw, cracked, bleeding, left in as perfect detail as was possible in the leaves and loam.

A fair amount of time had passed since her crossing the border, and she found it odd that she had encountered no one. Her daughter was a scout, was she not? Silve knew that she was not the only one to safeguard the lands of Deor. She sat back on her haunches and stared into the night, wondering where her family was. Her packbrothers and packsisters. With eyes tinged with a bitterness born of ignorance, the silver fae lifted her her muzzle into the air and called to her lips a cry that called to everything and everywolf in the area. Birds took flight, songs were stilled to listen to the one she called into being on the still air. A friendly face was exactly what she needed to push away the harsh memory of her ordeal. She was home in body, but did not yet feel it in spirit.

[Dakota Spirit]

OCC: I'm gonna assume this takes place after the birth of Dak and Mist's pups, though the thread isn't quite finished yet.
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Nettles and dried leaves crackled beneath his paws, tearing beneath his weight and filling his nose with their earthy scent. The wolf breathed deep, inhaling the familiar forest musk. He loved this place and this time of year and most of all, the thriving life that was being built within his boarders. For the first time in a long time the wolf felt complete, content with what he had and what he couldn't fix. Many things had contributed to this feeling but it was the birth of his family that stood out the most. The cubs, four tiny little lives, were his pride and joy. And Mist, his mate and the light to whatever darkness threatened his mind. Though them the wolf knew he'd found his truth, the support he craved, and a love that would always remain strong.

On this evening, he stood just outside the family den. Light was fading from the sky and Tor would soon have full cover, her bright light the only beacon in the night. One last patrol for the night, only a moment's worth of work, but the wolf was hesitant to move. It had become harder and harder to leave the den over the past few days, what with the cubs still so new and so fragile. He knew their mother would protect them and beyond that, they were safe in the pack lands but still he worried...worried as any new father would. Finally casting one last look back at the dark cave opening, the wolf turned his mind to business and moved forward in his nightly check of the boarders.

The truth was, patrol wasn't even a part of the wolf's job. He was a warrior, not a scout, but at times the two titles seemed to meld together. Deor was a small pack and the male felt tied to them in the same way he did his immediate family. Being a warrior meant protecting and protecting meant watching for intruders. So regardless of official titles, the wolf had taken to participating in regular patrols soon after his appointment as Beta male in the pack, He walked the paths with familiarity, sharp eyes taking in as much detail as they could. Thinking this was to be another event-less venture through the lands, the male relaxed when a call sounded through the air. The voice seemed close to him, filled with emotion, and though familiar, he was unable to place it.

Perking his ears forward the wolf listened for any further sound as he pushed through the brush. His body tensed, ready for whatever was waiting on the other side. Muscles bunched beneath the skin and claws dug into the ground, keeping his steps steady and sure. But when he saw the 'intruder', the wolf immediately stopped, easing into a more relaxed stance. A pale grey wolf stood before him, ragged and bloodied from her travels. She sat along the path, neither threatening or timid. Searching through his brain the wolf tried to place the face before him. "Silve?", he asked at last. The wolf remembered one fae close in similarity to this injured one, she had been bubbly and full of joy. He had met her only a few times during his time in Deor but she had always seemed a good wolf, a happy wolf. Though, thinking now, the male realized he hadn't seen or heard from her in quite some time. Perhaps things had changed. "I'm Dakota. We met a few times, perhaps you remember...", he trailed off, unsure of what to say to the fae. Unsure if she even WAS the fae he remembered. "What...what ill fortune has befallen you?"

OCC Agian: Sorry, this is kind of bad. I'm a bit out of practice. Let me know if you need more to work with!

[Silve]

(OOC: That's plenty to work with. I was hoping to get another poster before replying, but, oh well.)

A wolf who had made the decision , whether conscious or unconscious, was hard to track with ears and eyes as they approached. As night was already falling, it was even more difficult to note the presence of the Beta as he came into her view, seeming ready to take on all comers to protect his home. Silve felt a slight pang in her heart as she noted this, for she had once been the one to fall upon intruders in the same fashion as this one had. The tension left his body when he saw her, and she couldn't help but feel releived that the one to respond to her tortured wail was one who recognized her. He spoke her name, and she felt a small sum of confusion. Moons had passed since any tongue had shaped that word in her presence. Perhaps a moment late, her ears twitched in response, and she shook her head slightly.

Settling in to better observe the mann, she felt a deep stirring of memory, nearly too deep down to be felt. She knew this mann, or, at least, she thought she did. She scowled at the ground, and in that instant he spoke again. The name was enough. She gasped, then whispered, "Dakota. I know that name." She frowned again, then looked back at him, concentrating very hard. "You--You are Mist's mate?" she asked. She cursed below her breath then looked to him. "What misfortune hasn't been thrust upon me with great force?" she inquired with a humorless laugh. "Famine, beasts, cold, falls, mountains..." she trailed off with a deep shudder. Then, realizing that she was being slightly rude, she turned her gaze. "These past moons have been...harsh...for me. I decided to go out on one last travel, before I returned to keep my oath to Mist, to be near when she had her pups. Things did not turn out the way I expected them to."

This, of course, brought the the front of her mind the fact that Mist had probably already given birth. How old would they be? And how many? Was her old friend alright? The strength went from her; she knew herself to be forsworn. An oath broken, all because of a travel-urge. "I'm too late, aren't I?" Her head hung with the shame of it, nose nearly brushing the loam beneath her travel-worn paws. "A curse upon all mountains," she growled. "Everything was fine until I entered those rocks and boulders. Tor above, I should never have left."

She looked now to the ebon warrior with a question on her brows. "What has occured since you last saw me?"

[Dakota Spirit]

It seemed for a moment that time had paused as the two wolves met. Silence surrounded them, leaving only the eyes to speak. For recognition had to dawn there first before any further steps could be taken. When at last the fae confirmed her name and identity, Dak felt his emotions mix. On one hand, he was glad that this wolf was not a stranger upon the lands. It was not that Deor didn't welcome friendly visitors, but when dealing with the problems of others things always got more complicated. At least with Silve, there was a known element. On the other hand, he felt only sorrow over the idea that one of his pack member could have been subjected to such anguish.

As she in turn asked of his status, the male nodded slightly in reply. "Yes I am." Though that was all he managed to get out before Silve went on to finish answering his questions. She seemed to speak in a rush, with a voice tinged in sadness and regret. "Ok...", he soothed softly, moving a step closer. "Just breath, sister. You are safe now and no one has failed just yet." The term of endearment slipped from his mouth smoothly and without thought as the Beta's mind turned only to ending the crisis of the moment. Besides, they were pack mates and bonded if not by blood then by loyalty alone. Dak's eyes flicked quickly across the fae's face and body and he assured himself once more that there were no fatal wounds to be tended and that he could answer her questions without any worry of urgency.

Closing the last bit of distance between them, the dark wolf sat beside the silver fae and offered a small smile. Defeat it seemed, had finally claimed Silve and her head sagged with it's weight. "Chin up.", he whispered even as she began to speak agian. "Life is hard on us all...but our strength, it cannot be broken unless we allow it." Dakota hadn't known of Silve's promise to be near Mist during the birth and hearing it now, he felt for Silve's broken spirit. Her actions mirrored what would surely have been his own had he been in her shoes. A promise or vow that had gone unfulfilled...it would seem like a failure. Still, his eyes looked kindly upon the scout and maw split with what little advice he could offer. "It is true that you missed the cubs' birth", he said. "But birth is one small moment in their lives, one they soon will forget. There is much of their life still to go, much you can be a part of. And as for Mist..." For a moment the male's face seemed to take on a new emotion. Echos of past memories seemed to pass through his eyes, casting a shade over their bright glow. Memories of times when he too had needed to leave the pregnant Drappa's side for his own travels. "She will understand.", he finally finished. "She has your love and knows you would have been there had you been able to. Trust me.", he added nodding his head slightly. "She understands these things better then most."

Flashing another smile, bigger this time, Dak turned his thoughts now to Silve's last question. "You have not missed much.", he said. "Summer and Fall passed as they are set to do, bringing the usual weather changes and trials that come with. Chalos has also been away on travels, much of which still remain a mystery. I trust he is around though, keeping an eye on things and keeping us safe. And the cubs, course." Visible pride seemed to flow through the male upon mention of his children. The seriousness left his face, only to be replaced with the joy that any parent felt. "Four little ones.", he said. "Two beautiful daughters, Zynnia and Aria, and two strong sons, Cullen and Aiden. They are full of spirit and seem to be growing more each day, I feel as if when next I lay eyes on them they will already be full grown. You will have to come meet them - and visit Mist. They will all be dying to see you, I'm sure."

Pausing for one last moment, the warrior's demeanor once more switched keys. Returning to it's customary seriousness, dutiful and alert. The worried soldier caring for his injured brethren. But for now...", he said. "Tell me what you need or where you want to go. I will escort you to the place in which you feel most comfortable for the night."