slow dancer, oh, no answers

i am very rusty crusty

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With the earliest tendril of first morning light, the Ostrega rose from his thicket to survey the quiet, soft snowfall that greeted him. The mountainside was draped in all new white: a winter's morn, like any other that he had seen plenty of before, and on the mountain he had come to know--mostly.

However, he could not deny the spike of suspicion that tightened his jaw, setting tension down into his neck. Misplaced, especially compared to the peaceful landscape before him, and leaving him feeling strange the longer he let it fester. His hackles rippled up, but he shook the prickling sensation away.

So in search of a new center, he took a deep breath and set out into a walk, scoping for an easy trail nearby. He started from the ground up, drinking in a careful, studious look around as he took his time with this--like he had to be convinced. The earth, the trees, the elevation. Even beyond, up into cloudy white skies and through the whirling flurries... then back down to him, at his own paws once more. All as it should be, as well as he could tell. But what was it, then? Maybe he had slept on the wrong side, dreamed too deeply. What had he eaten last before bed, anyway? Did it matter? It seemed he was where he was meant to be still; this was still his home.

Mistrust in the fabric of this world was nothing new, but it had been long set aside, most days. Life had moved on, forged anew around it. Why it saw fit to rear its head today, he could not yet place. Something on the winds, probably... Perhaps the weather had something to do with it. Jarilo liked that explanation out of any, if he needed to have one, that is.

He continued on towards the lower reaches, and realized he had yet to see any other paw prints.

Where was everyone?

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She awoke well rested. But tired even still. Perhaps in her soul. There were so many critical pieces still missing—and even by now, Hydra knew not at all what they could be. The longing for the absence of something one did not know… was there a name for it?

Hydra rose from the earth she slept upon, and she searched for the things that she did know. Proximity made her initial hunt the easiest—and Hydra prowled quietly after her brother, as though testing her own ability. Her ears twitched atop her crown as she contemplated truly doing that, but her patience fell to the wayside as his scent became stronger.

She closed the distance between them in bounds. “Brother,” she breathed. Relief—relief that he was found, and so swiftly. The matriarch moved to bump her head against his own, if he allowed, needing the contact.

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With his concern just barely held at bay, the mountain's gentle snow was beautiful: so undisturbed. Jarilo's search could come with a side of appreciation for the balm to the soul it was to still know his grounds, other mysteries withstanding.

His path veered with the slopes, and soon, he came into realization. A familiar one, gratefully, as his ears swiveled to test for sure. He didn't want to soar his hopes needlessly, but no--it should be.

Hydra then materialized on such little warning. “Sister,” he breathed on his rushing halt, tail sweeping as he arced gladly to receive her. Thankfully, it was her. Out of anyone, everyone, she could grant a certain assurance. If she was here, persisting whole and hale, he had that much. In a welcome gesture, he pressed his head back against hers. It was so good to see her.

Exhaling a great breath, he leaned back, nosing beneath her chin. “It seems so quiet,” he reported, perhaps echoed, when he didn't smell others on her fur. Not obviously, or fresh. Did they lose track of time? But if that was the case, why did he feel.. lighter? Refreshed? A finer sense of vigor, as he breathed deep the crisp mountain air. Perhaps Hydra felt it too. “I wonder.. what this was, this time..” he said, a touch of worry as he glanced past her. Nothing majorly appeared out of place, and yet, he felt like he was missing something, somehow.

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The scent of him eased some of the tension she carried then in her shoulders. Feeling it, she settled herself entirely, before withdrawing to look to him. Yes, healthy and himself—as she remembered him upon Moonspear, too, though this fact she was quick to pass over in hearing his observation.

“It is,” she confirmed lowly, glacial gaze turning to look behind him. “Something has happened again. I do not know what, but I do wish to discover the meaning of it,” her intentions were left in the air for a moment before she looked back to him, “…though first, I must account for who remains. The trails of our family have faded to nothing, my own included,” she frowned at this.

She did not like the feeling of not knowing something, not understanding it—and this was presently beyond her. Not for much longer, she determined. “Have you seen any others?” she asked, not allowing herself then to be optimistic.

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So they were in agreement: something had happened, but they could not name what--which was not the first time they had faced such mystery, somehow. Hydra sought to understand, and Jarilo nodded slow as he too panned his sights around. The mountain itself appeared to be all typical from such cursory glances, but what he could not speak on what lie beyond. Something felt different, once again.

His ears splayed, angling back as she confirmed another worry that had brewed in him. Too many scents had faded. How badly had time elapsed? He couldn't feel it in his bones, despite searching. “I have not,” he shook his head, not that he liked to admit this. “You are the first.” And only so far. “I don't know how long it has been, truly...” This, he didn't understand. His sense of time felt all warped, twisted in several directions at once. Renewed, but faraway together.

However, their family had been scattered before. Each time, some of them always managed to pull themselves back together, but each time, there were those that were lost to forever... “But, we will find them.” He sought to set the nerves aside, and instead trust that they were out there to be found at all. “I will comb the mountainside more,” to start, as he wondered if others felt as strangely about this shift as he did. “We can let them all know we are here, if nothing else.” Again, another start, and one that was better than nothing at all.

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