Horizon

Not wanting to over stay his welcome near the lake, York had left as soon as the fog had unveiled the land below the slopes. He had only met the weak pup, but he doubted his presence hadn’t been noticed by its other inhabitants. Besides, meeting them might not have been pleasurable.

Once again, he hadn’t picked the safest of ways down the mountain. Here and there, a rock would give way and he would end up sliding down a little ways. Roughing up his pads and muscles. Nothing he could really complain about, though. York was hardy.

Constantly he was contemplating what he wanted to do now. Find a little place to call his own. Explore the world until his bones had rotted too much ‘neath his hide. Since coming across the bird child, he wondered if he might ever find his own children again. Efthalia, what ever happened to her? At the time, he hadn’t cared. Generally - even now - he really just didn’t care. But he supposed they were somehow bonded in a different way then with other wolves. Their relationship hadn’t been terribly traditional, either. It barely existed. Now, it had withered even more.

Past moments. The dust of his trail. They all were probably far away by now. Hell, maybe they were even on another plane. Stolen away in the night by Death.

One thing was certain: York was alive and well! That was really all that matter. Especially when one was alone.

His muscles braced themselves as he took another unsuspected slide down the scree. York’s tail dragged against the ground behind him as he rode it out. Once he was able to recollect himself again, he continued southward.

Up early, Ozias stared down into an enormous valley, his aqua-blue eyes wide. He’d never seen a sight like this. Brilliant flashes of colour - flowers - led the way to a bay with a small island rising from the middle. A grassland with a river running down from the mountains offset a lake opposite the bay. There appeared to be forests beyond, but that was the limit of Ozi’s eyesight.

He took a steep breath and started down the mountainside. He kept telling himself be could do this. This was exactly he sort of place that adventurous Cian would love. They had explored many such areas traveling together after being forced to leave their natal pack. Cian was always full of wonder when it came to new places, loving every minute while Ozi tagged along behind him, watching his back.

Ozias had lost his brother’s scent on the other side of the mountains in a huge bank of fog that had lasted days, but he knew this place would draw his bold brother like the bug-eating birds to a moose. He wasn’t going home until he had answers from Cian about why he ditched his only brother. Frowning, he thought he caught a familiar scent - not his brother - on the wind. But what would his own father be doing here? He was imagining things.

Ozias started down the mountain, stepping carefully.

The prospect of hunting had crossed his mind. He wouldn’t mind an easy bite. But he knew better than to try hunting along a slope quite so steep. Of course he would manage to choose a rather hazardous decline. York was faring it well, though. Running down would be daft.

Sliding down kind of helped to accelerate the process. Below him, the valley drew closer. He never really stopped to get a good look at it; it was too far away for him to find a good spot to nap. York was old, but he wasn’t feeling the need to find a place to hunker down and retire just yet.

As he neared the foothills of the mountains, the slope was softening. It was getting easier to descend. Maybe get a good run in, get his blood pumping. Then find a quite bite.

Ozias picked his way downwards, the view getting less impressive as he got to the lower elevations. Hi belly reminded him he hadn’t hunted in a while, so he set his nose down and began tracking. Pika, small rodents, but it was better than nothing.

He wondered what Cian was doing. Was he even regretting ditching Ozias and leaving him with the pack? The dark-furred male had never really gotten close to anybody else in the pack. Never had females flocking around like Cian did. He hadn’t left anybody special behind when he followed Cian out past the borders. Ozias sighed softly, tried to set his woes aside and tracked towards some tough wiry shrubs.

The slope was softening and York’s gait was picking up. Rock was turning into dirt; dirt into grass. His paws were beginning to resemble the sound of thunder. Stealth was never his strong suit, nor was it ever on his mind. Wolves had keen senses. It was terribly difficult to hide.

He knew that there was another around. His ears could hear them. Alas, the wind was not in his favour. Otherwise, he might have known it was one of his sons.

Instead, he continued on. The thought of prey had momentarily vanished from his mind. Running and not tripping was all his simple brain worried about.

Ozias was focused more on the pika-scent than he was on the mystery phantom scent from earlier, but he paused with an uncertain forepaw up when he caught the scent again.

Okay. That really did smell like York. He had heard mountain air could play tricks on you, but this… this wasn’t subtle anymore. This was starting to weird him out. Out of habit he looked for cover, but the only vegetation growing were the straggly bushes ahead he thought the pika were feeding or hiding among. Telling himself he was being stupid, he crept a few more steps, but instead of the greenery, he was scanning the mountainside below and to one side of him now. From the way the wind was blowing.

Adrenaline was beginning to pump through his veins. He allowed his jaws to part so his tongue could flop freely against his smokey cheek. His pace was only picking up as he travelled further south.

Prey could be found another day.

(Exit unless stopped.)

Ozias caught a clear sight of a dark-furred male wolf - much like himself in colour but taller in build - further down the mountain. His paws froze completely. He wasn’t wrong.

“Father!” He exclaimed, rather stupidly. But hopefully not loud enough to be overheard. Instantly he pulled back after he spoke, ducking behind the shrubs. A pika squealed a soft warning as it scrambled away. If anyone had been around to ask he would have said it was surprise, not fear, maing him tremble slightly. He wasn’t afraid to face York. He just… 

This was not what he expected to find here.

A voice cut through the air. With his shoddy memory, he failed to notice any familiarity in the voice from the distance he was. But it was enough to cause him to slow to a halt. He had only noticed one other wolf around. Ideally, it wasn’t the feeble whelp’s parent.

York pivoted to turn and look over his shoulder.

His eyes saw nothing. A faint grumble was made while his tail lashed irritatedly. The bark or whatever it was had taken precious seconds out of his day. York had quite liked his run.

Without further ado, he turned to continue on his way after giving the mountains a final look.

(Attempted exit no. 2)

Ozias held his breath.

What a fool he was. Almost walking right up to his FATHER, of all wolves. Why had he come here? Was he loking for Cian too? Ozias cursed his own lack of a spine for not marching up to York and demanding to know.

It might even have startled his old man enough into answering him instead of fashioning a thinly veiled insult. And yet the silver male stayed motionless behind the bushes ave for the stressed rise and fall of his chest.

By the time he straightened up sometime later, and took in a shaky breath to try and go after the pikas, the sight and the scent of prey had of course, vanished.