the fiercest stars collapsed on heaven's floor

As sunset gave away to the vestiges of evening proper, Dirge gave debate to concluding his travels. Deep in the valleys between one chain of foothills to the next, the humid air almost held a crisp note to it; an alluring pocket that provided relative relief from the summer that still held them tightly. Though the mountains were not nearly as warm as other climates would have been, he found natural heat sinks here and there just as often as he did these cool pockets.

It was refreshing, especially since the height of the afternoon had driven warmth up and along the ridges he had been traveling, even with Empyrean’s distant row of dagger-like teeth punctuating the once blue sky. He found himself tiring, yet driven enough to hammer out those last few miles that would eventually concede that he had gone far enough to let Hydra’s ire be tempered into something more easily handled and malleable.

The stream that cut between steepening valley walls provided such a reprieve from his venture, and where the creekbed was low enough he soothed feet that had begun to ache. Deeper, unseen crevices in the water drove him out to walk the mud and gravel bank that hadn’t been overrun in due time; he stopped along one such point between waterlogged trees long fell to drink from the cold and murky waters, and thought the spot may work for a night of rest.

---

@Crux

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 The southern parts of the Mountains had a nice feel to them. They felt different from his home in the central portion of the region, though it wasn't too far of a walk, especially not when he was frequently crossing into the northern mountains to meet with his wife in the middle-lands or near the land owned by Vanderfell.

 It was in this middle-land that he found himself as night fell, shadows taking what was once sunny landscapes. The dark shapes grew, unknown whispers taunting him from the darkness.

 Onwards he walked, until he spotted a stream. Thankful for the respite, he approached it and slid down the bank to the water which lapped hungrily at his paws as he, in turn, lapped at the water. When he finished, he looked up and noticed a shape in the distance. He squinted at it, recognizing it after a moment. “Ah, Dirge of Empyrean!” He called, walking upstream towards him with his paws still within the shallower water along the edge. “How goes it?”

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A voice reached out of the depths—for a split second ahead of recognition, Dirge realized he should have been paying better attention—and he pulled his head from the rippling waters of the creek to find a familiar figure. In the summer haze, Crux stood out against the ripe, dark foliage, though given the time of day he almost seemed ghastly against it. But considering all the variables of unfamiliar ground, a familiar face for company was a much better fare than what other things could have come about.

“Crux,” Dirge hummed, licking away the last few droplets of water that clung to his muzzle. “It’s been a while. Things have been quiet.” The idyllic nature of things was, to summarize, part of the strangeness that Dirge found himself still adapting to. There were other things, of course, but he took those instances day by day. It wasn’t every day that the living dead were figuratively at your door, nor coexisting within their apparently hallowed grounds.

But that was neither here nor there right now, he supposed.

“How have things fared for you?”
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 The king of Empyrean recognized him and he gave a soft sigh of relief. For a moment he had worried if he was recognizing him wrong or if it was some other similarly coloured wolf. Thankfully not. He had wondered about the man in recent weeks, wondering how the entire pack was faring. Especially when they had been searching for his children before.

 “Better than chaotic,” Crux responded with a smile, for it was a true curse, that saying: I hope you live in interesting times.

 Quiet was safe.

 Still, it could be boring. “I finished a tour about the Plains and Temperate to visit and meet other packs,” he began, “On the way, I met my new wife from a pack up north called Elysium.” His eyes lit up as he thought of her. Despite it being a rushed event, a night of passion ending in an agreement of an open marriage, he felt hopeful. She was a good woman and he longed to be by her side. “Other than that, it has been fairly uneventful as well.” Well, there had been a big event: His wedding. Some things had come to light and he had seen his mother again, alive!

 She was one of Elysium now and while he had hoped she would have returned with him, she seemed content in her new life.

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Elysium—there was something in that name that sparked recognition for Dirge, though he could not place it. The feeling itself was internal, there-and-gone; a lightning bolt and percussive clap of thunder against a dark sky from another time. Was it something he had known before?

It did not matter, he had to conclude, just as swiftly as the bolt had come.

“Congratulations,” he rejoined warmly, letting a smile play easy on his features. “A marriage is a good means to an alliance along with all the other perks it brings. Companionship is truly wonderful at its core.” It was then his smile may have turned a little sly, though a marriage was hardly required for things of the nature his own inclination may have leaned towards.

But he would take news of a happy event over the many years of turmoil that did linger in his memory, even if it were in the company of someone he had a fledgling friendship of sorts with. Even a blind creature would have been able to see the mirth that Crux shared, and the notion alone ushered Dirge towards another point.

“Care to join me in a rest? I am curious of your travels,” he went on gently; friendship also had its perks.
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 Crux couldn't help but let his tail wag at the idea of Harper and her union. Despite it being sudden and new, he was quite fond of her. “Thank you!” He gave a little laugh, “I've never taken a mate before, so it's all very new.” His mothers had multiple and he would surely take multiple down the line, but for now he was content with just having the Elysium babe by his side.

 He did regret they lived so far apart and he could not simply visit as often as he would like.

 When offered a rest, he smiled and approached, following behind Dirge towards the point he'd suggested. As he walked, he peered down and to the side, into the water where tiny fish moved about in little packs of their own. So many... he wondered how they found each other. Were they like wolf packs, family and friends? Perhaps they simply swam and found others like them, moving from pack to pack whenever the currents moved them.

 “My travels were fairly informative,” he said with a chuckle, “Though I'm glad to be back in the Mountains.” He couldn't wait to curl up with Hawking and the rest, enjoying their presence once more.

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A union was something that Dirge had never quite imagined himself to be tethered to and yet at the same time he had grown attached to Hydra and all that tied them together. Family, as it were, had always been a shaky construct in his life where once the only thing that had kept him somewhat bound was his siblings. For all it was, good and bad, there were parts that he had kept to himself and still did—though there was perhaps no telling what either Keres or Nyx had spilled to Hydra over time.

But adventure he did miss even as the urge waned. Spring and summer often had the strongest draw that set his feet to itch to wander, though he would have argued that it was the latest part of summer that beckoned him to capture what remained of fleeting warmth and long days that did not seem to want to end. It was in part why he capitalized on it now, letting his ranging varying through the days where he could while things were quiet and the largest parts of work not quite needing to be done.

“How were things out there? Any troubles that we should concern ourselves with?”

Crux hadn’t elaborated on his travels and so he tried to tease them out, curious for himself on places that he had yet to venture to. He suspected that if any of them were to make that journey before him, it would be Altair—his son had the knack for scouting and though he felt a certain reluctance in letting him wander far, Dirge could not begrudge the boy in doing so.

But until then, it was the bespeckled leader he would make his inquiries to.
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 Crux considered the question for a moment. “Honestly, none that I came across. Some wolves were friendlier than others, but that's to be expected. There were no packs I saw in the Plains but several in the Temperate - Pantheon, Nightwalkers, and Elkshire - and a couple - Vanderfell Woods and Elysium - northeast of here.” He wondered if Dirge or Empyrean had come across any of the packs he'd met.

 Well, he knew they'd come across the Nightwalkers, at the very least, as it had been mentioned when he'd first come across Vengeance. The man's stink still haunted his dreams but he tried not to think about it since, honestly, it was none of his concern. Beneath the river that separated mountains from forests was a different world entirely.

 Honestly, he was freely spilling the information he'd found in the south because he had no reason not to. Empyrean seemed to be a nice pack, similar of beliefs to his own. They wanted the best for their pack and he did not believe they would be ambitious in their search for that "best" - which meant that he and his kin were safe to be friendly with the pack. “Have there been any troubles within the mountains in my absence?”

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“No, thankfully,” he rejoined with a shake of his head. “We’ve been fortunate thus far not to have issues with any one or thing, and I’m grateful for it.” It was a far cry better than what they had endured, which for the longest time to him had seemed like one tilled row of turmoil after another, as though the very path they walked along was meant to seed and sow nothing but discomfort. It wasn’t always the case of course, but the bits and pieces that Dirge did recall had not been as idyllic as things were here.

But Crux had provided him with several gems of information, things that he would readily share with Hydra the next moment he saw her. Whether or not she knew of everything was a bit beyond his grasp, though it wouldn’t have surprised him if she hadn’t been busy fostering connections much in the way he had been.

He wondered then if perhaps he had put Crux at unease.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I seem cautious,” he went on lightly, “my wife and I both are far more used to… uncomfortable situations that require delicacy. It’s been unusual not to encounter troubles thus far, though I wonder what winter may bring ahead of us.”

Only time would tell if tensions mounted their own assault on the peaceful integrity of all that tied them together. He wanted to be hopeful, believing that they would maintain whatever casual ties they had between them, but at the same time Dirge knew the likelihood that things would be drawn and quartered in due time.
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 “That's good to hear,” Honestly, he'd been somewhat worried that in his absence, there would have been some sort of coup. As it was, it seemed nobody really cared too much about him being gone. Which was sad, but somewhat expected. He needed to work on forming connections with more of his pack so that they would not be so aloof.

 “I wonder the same,” he said thoughtfully. “I grew up in a pack that was quite unfriendly, even in times of relative plenty, wolves would fight.” How had they managed to stay together so long, with so much infighting? It had been outside forces that had driven them apart.

 Ah. Religion. That was how - and that was why they had always been so very overly aggressive. Their gods told them to be.

 Gods he no longer believed in.

 He considered the stream for a moment, “I believe, thus far anyhow, that the Mountains are big enough and loosely populated enough to not have to worry - at least, not this winter.” His own land he assumed would be fine. He had arrived in later Winter and even so, it did not seem to take much from his land. He wondered if that would cause Ichorwood to be a target for other packs desiring to move in. The idea disquieted him. “I do wonder if the... arrival of so many wolves from other lands will be too much for this one.”

 He knew some prey creatures arrived as they did, such as his adopted son, but would it be enough?

 Would they all starve or fight until a balance was found?

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“Time will tell,” he said, not enjoying the taste of the aphorism on his tongue. Dirge did not enjoy the concept of waiting to see, but there was naught he could do about it other than be grateful that they had been fortunate thus far—something that kept ringing at the back of his mind like a bell.

But Crux did underline some of the worries that had been lurking with each toll of that proverbial bell, as he too had wondered if the influx of bodies able and not would be entirely beneficial. Empyrean already sported a robust number, but he did not have doubts that they wouldn’t be able to support themselves. They were capable hunters and he and Hydra both had once commanded such numbers before.

But yet… time would tell.

“I think we’ll all manage well enough,” he went on, “at least through the winter. While I can’t say for certain what exactly that will bring to us, I believe our preparations will carry us. There’s always stragglers and deserters alike, and those that will not make it through, but such is life.” Grim, perhaps, but nonetheless true in his eyes.
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 Time would indeed tell. Crux gave a sigh, turning to lap at the crisp water along the stream. After a quick drink, he turned back to Dirge, tail drifting gently as the wind tugged at loose strands of fur. His eyes traveled along, upriver. Did this stream lead to the mountain Dirge hailed from, or perhaps the lake beside it? He wondered where it led. Out to see, eventually, he supposed.

 “That is good to hear,” Crux said honestly, “The summer has been plump with resources, I'd imagine this winter will be comfortable - perhaps the most comfortable for years to come.” Depending, of course, on how many newcomers came and claimed land, filled the place with competition.

 His eyes turned westward, where the sun had long since set. Sleep was calling him and he considered returning home or finding a safe resting place for the rest of the night. “I believe I should be heading on,” he said aloud, thoughtful. “I don't like to leave Ichorwood for too long at a time.”

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