there's a hell of a good universe next door; let's go

mal

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As Olive's travails moved from days into weeks, she found a small amount clarity in her solitude. The chatter of others' fell away as her physical distance from them became larger, as well-meaning as always were, and finally Olive could dig to the pit of her discomfort and scry why it might be so. At the end of these ponderings and meditations, the little witch always came to the same conclusion: it was nothing about Little Haven, or the fact that the interminable wayfarer had finally hitched her post upon one place for the foreseeable future. It had been so long that Olive had felt useful, and worked with a purpose. She had been lackadaisical for too long, and she felt the overwhelming desire to find her next project, and imbue her days with a little more purpose.

At least now she was open to it, and would scrutinize all possibilities that crossed her path. The Gods' messages often came that way, as subtle instances or coincidences, if one was listening closely enough to understand them. Soon she would return home, Olive decided, but it might be a long journey.

For a woman who had spent a majority of recent weeks in the dry plains, the verdant elevations of the mountains were a welcome respite. The variety of weather and the sheer kaleidoscopic quality of the landscapes astounded her; she truly felt she could glimpse the uniqueness of every corner she turned to. However, paradise would not last forever -- what was cool and breezy now, would soon become deadened and snowbound. Though winter had its own magic, Olive entertained the same reservations about it as she did the plains: the sheer banality of it all. Most of all, the flowing waters would all but dry up, and what was left would freeze over. With this thought at the forefront of her mind, the sylph frolicked in the eddy of a small stream; flexing her toes in the mud and chasing minnows and tadpoles around the shallow, cloudy pool.

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He had let @Huā know that he was going to take a short trip -- he just wanted to make sure there was nobody else had randomly shown up in the region where both of them had. Was it a coincidence that both himself and Hua had appeared not too far from where the other had? He wasn't sure. Okay, he also wasn't sure exactly where either point was any more, but they were close enough to be the equivalent of throwing a rock in the grand scheme of the world. So, he headed back. He wanted to find a familiar face... But who knew if that would even happen. Or if he'd recognize them.

He didn't feel as frantic this time (even if he didn't like being away from her) but wasn't going to dally around either. Some of the paths now were familiar under his feet and he'd made good time heading over hill and through forest in the valleys between the mountains. He probably needed to stop soon, though, and at the very least find a place to drink and something to eat before he continued on his way. No point in needlessly suffering, after all. When he caught the sound of water in the distance, he turned towards it, heading off-trail for a bit before both the creek and pale woman near it came into view.

And yet every time he crossed paths with a wolf that he felt no familiarity to, he had to wonder if they were just someone on the outside of his memory -- he had felt that pull to Hua which he had no question about, but there were always others. What if she was another like Dirge? A near-white wolf was about as memorable as a normal agouti -- there could be a dozen wolves' memories all stacked on top of each other and blurring any sense of familiarity. Certainly Mal himself was a lot more recognizable to others just by markings alone, so one would hope that if he knew a person, it wouldn't quite be strangers passing in the night, the other would make the first move. He woofed, wandering closer to her and the creek, sort of testing whether she recognized him while he got to a more conversational range and he could introduce himself and ask a few questions.
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Olive would still her movements, allow the sediment to settle down, allow the tiny minnow to come so close that they could nibble upon her toes — and then she would thrust her arms out and leap forward, splashing up what shallow amount of water their was, and would laugh as the tiny silver bullets darted back through the water, utterly betrayed by the unmoving, alabaster obelisk. She did the once, twice, three times and it never lost its hilarity; but just as she was shuffling backwards to become yet another permanent fixture in the mud, she saw the strange, merled man staring at her.

Aware that she should be more ashamed of herself than she actually was, Olive gave her summer-thin coat a toss, and she strode forward. "Hail," she called forward, valuing her interactions with others highly given that they were few and far between, in her travels. "Pay me no mind," the sylph asked of him, tail still swaying from the endorphins from her exertions. "'tis the last vestiges of summer." She offered the explanation as if 'summer' made sense, as to why she would be behaving in such a manner. She was certainly in no fit state to entertain others, with her fur streaked with mud as it was, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Still, the woman could not see him clearly, at this distance. He remained unrecognized.

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She definitely seemed to be having fun splashing about. And even if Mal was feeling a bit better about everything, he wasn't really to that level yet -- maybe at Hua's encouragement, but solo or with strangers. It was kind of amusing though, but not enough to make him grin or anything, just continue being pleasant. And  on closer examination, some of the darker shadows of fur weren't just that, but also muddy. In comparison, Mal was pristine -- maybe not in actuality since he had been traveling, but he certainly wasn't muddy. As a youth, yeah, he'd be a scruffy as hell kid, but that was partially due to neglect more than anything.

Well, her speech was far more fancy than his own, which he wasn't expecting, so he blinked and took a second to take that apart and parse it back together again in that brief second as it bounced around his brain a bit. But he brushed it off and continued forward to the water upstream. “So enjoying the weather, then?” A slight tip of his head. It was probably a good thing that no face came to mind before he introduced himself, because if he could remember, he probably wouldn't have been so friendly, “I'm Mal.” He lowered his head then to take a drink, but kept his gaze and an ear trained on her as his tail waved behind him.
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It pleased Olive deeply when the man seemed receptive to her friendly discourse — she found the wolves in these lands far too territorial and defensive for her liking, and someone who wasn't actively chasing her off semi-claimed land was a welcome respite. He came around to the water's edge, affording her a better and closer view of his personage, but Olive only watched him with friendly eyes, welcoming him in to share space with her. "Oh yes," the woman breathed, dipping her head down and lifting a paw to dab water at her cheeks in an attempt to tidy up from the manner in which she had enjoyed the weather.

"It's a pleasure. I'm Olive," she said, lifting her head as they exchanged names, not because his name rang a bell or anything; just to look at the wolf who was introducing himself — but when the sounds of his calling registered at the same time she looked upon his distinctive pale spots, something in her consciousness, however small, clicked into space. The woman gaze tightened, somewhat more scrutinizing. It was certainly not out-of-the-ordinary for Olive to have deja vú, or visions that came true. In fact, it happened often, seeing vestige souls of others whenever she entered into sleep or trance. For the most part, these ghosts were only ghosts; souls tied to the lands, she assumed. As she discussed with Eris, they never, ever became real. Thus, she would rule out the most obvious possibility, first.

"Have we met, before?"

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He finished taking a drink and licked the water from his muzzle. The fact that Mal hadn't remembered Dirge, who had clearly remembered him, certainly had set Mal's perspective to be that if someone thought they recognized him, they probably did. It was just his messed up brain that had forgotten them. He hadn't remembered Dirge's name either, so the fact that neither did Olive's didn't mean that was at all reality. Hopefully that meant she wasn't someone horribly important.

He was a little apologetic at the start of his reply, “It's possible. I'm afraid I don't remember a lot of things from a while ago.” How else could he describe it? Before coming here? He'd probably have to think of a better way to describe it all, but right now he was still figuring it all out. This whole scenario was weird. “However, I think I happen to be rather distinctive, don't you agree?” A cheeky grin there, momentarily striking a pose. “Probably a higher chance of you recognizing me than me you.” Which was a fact. “Is any particular event coming to mind? Might make it easier for me to confirm at least.” Hua sort of running through their mutual history had definitely helped, so this would be sort of the same... Maybe.
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Almost immediately the interaction became interesting; she had immediately expected him to be like most of the others and dismiss her subtle recognition as the workings of her subconscious, but he did not. Instead, he shared that he had lost his memories and it was entirely possible that they did know each other. If he hadn't lost all of his memories Olive might have taken a slight offense to having unintentionally been called forgettable, or boring in her pelage; but it was true, she was an ashen wolf amongst many, and she could not blame a handicapped man for his ineptitude in that area; for perhaps one day she might lose her memories, and if that were the case, she would hope to encounter mostly empathetic individuals as well.

The woman couldn't help but becoming lighter in her posture and more piqued in her attention, ears craning forward as she tipped her chin at a downward angle. "You are right about being distinctive," Olive agreed, letting her eyes of chipped jade conspicuously run over his form in its entirety, lastly letting them softly rest on his face. "It'll come to me, I'm sure of it." She wasn't feeling too stressed about this in any sort of way. If this was a friend from the past, something in their conversation would eventually elicit the memories from her mind, she was sure. If it didn't — well, it was a good thing they were meeting again, at this moment! Even though she did not want to pry, Olive asked her next question anyways. "Did something happen to your memories?"

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Mal was more comfortable being more bold with strangers than those that he'd have to see on a daily basis. There was a fair enough chance he'd never see Olive again, so even if a joke fell flat at least he wasn't gonna have to live with awkwardness every day. Besides, wandering this far was a rarity for him, making it more unlikely. “You can drink it all in -- who knows when you'll next see a specimen of my caliber.” It was all a joke, but Mal at least was confident that he was a good looking guy, so his grin had continued.

But enough, the conversation had moved on a bit past that. So, he shrugged, “If it was something specific, I can't remember. But basically I know this is not the place I'm from, and I mostly can't remember things from then unless someone reminds me. It's just the way it is now.” Okay the more he thought about it, it was a little silly to ask why he couldn't remember things, because wouldn't it be likely he couldn't remember that too? Well, maybe someone else could have told him if he got cracked on a head... But this world was so damn weird. Nothing made sense when you thought about it logically.
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Olive could not help but laugh at the silly strut that came from the bespeckled man, and she returned his jest in kind. "Oh, yes! Let me drink you in," she giggled, taking a step back and lifting her chin as if it was needed to take in the mere sight of him. Before she could stop herself, she laughingly continued, "I've been so parched, as of late." which she might have chosen not to say, had she known they were basically related.

Despite the lightheartedness of the moment before, he ended up revealing his affliction at the behest of her prying. "That sounds tough," Olive's ears flattened empathetically, and her voice softened as she felt a wave of emotion wash over her. "—I'm sorry that happened to you." She wasn't aware of it, but she had memories too that were not readily available for her to access. There were lives she had lived before, or perhaps simultaneously, that she didn't know of; stretches of darkness in her memory that she didn't even realize was there. Of course, she had lived many lives — as every soul upon this earth has. The power of accessing these past lives was still unavailable to the little witch.

But, who knows, maybe something might get her there.

The pale woman moved closer, eager to support a wolf who was in need of recovering one's memory. Working with the mind was her specialty, after all. "Well, we can start with something easy. Do you remember your family name?" It was possible that he didn't, but if he did, that would be the start of something big. "Perhaps I've met them." she was a vagrant, and met a great many packs. With any luck, she might be able to steer him towards family.

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If Mal had known, then it still wasn't too likely for him to be grossed out -- a certain amount of him operated on spite, and he would have continued to be of firm belief that he was a far better wolf than his father ever was -- it wasn't like they were blood related, and he never considered her a part of his family. By including her, it had excluded him. But these were old thoughts lost to time. 

“Really?” he mused, with a raise of his brows, but didn't seem to poke too much more at that. Whatever flirtation this was, it wasn't actually all that heavy or serious -- there was a strong line of play through it all that he hoped at least was keenly visible. He might be a sucker for attention and affection but if she wasn't keen on the game then fine, he'd be boring instead in an instant.

But even as the topic switched, his attitude didn't. It was upbeat. This was life. He'd been down in the darkness long enough, and there wasn't anything else that was gained by lingering. He could continue to search for family, but to stay sane he couldn't panic over it in this life. So, he continued on about names, “Oh, I don't think I really used it any more. Apparently my old home was a forest named Neverwinter. I suspect that'd be a thing far more familiar to some. I'm just not sure if the thoughts I have about it are memory or made up from what was told to me. It's an odd puzzle.” Hopefully it wasn't something just created, but since he couldn't show up there and double check, he'd just have to trust others and his own mind.
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The sylph listened to him speak, but his words immediately set Olive uneasy. His words seems ephemeral and hard-to grasp, since he barely knew any facts about himself (or so he told it); but what affected her more was the name he uttered. Neverwinter. It struck her so deeply that it was as if she had been there before. In fact, she could picture it as clear as day in her mind's eyes, which she did so sweetly for a moment, like a reverie long gone, faded but now remembered. "I— I remember Neverwinter," she stammered, mouth held agape, but remembrance dawned on her.

"I've never been to a place called Neverwinter," she said to the spotted man, turning her head sharply to look at him, brows furrowed as if he had seen something he shouldn't of. The woman could spout the details of every place she had every been too in this life, every family she stayed with, and she had never actually encountered the place she so clearly remembered. "Why do I know Neverwinter?" her voice rose, as if he might possibly open his mouth and make such a deep coincidence clear. Who are you, she thought, to say you woke up here and then know things about me so latent, that I don't even know them?

"Are you a demon?" was the only question she uttered, her voice without wind, wondering if this might be a dream after all.

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She knew Neverwinter? That did get his attention, including a forward prick of his ears. Maybe she'd been someone who'd stopped by for a while... Or something. Look, he didn't remember Dirge so that seemed like a reasonable conclusion. He did kind of  hope that maybe she'd know a bit more about him then in turn -- something minor that Hua might not know -- it'd be nice to imagine at least. A curious, “Hmm?” was his inquisitive interruption, but that was about it. He wanted her to be able to finish her thought before he chucked another question at her, he could probably think of several!  Or.. That was the plan before she spoke again.

But her question left him feeling very split. Part of him wanted to laugh, but that was drowned out by a wave of unease of buried memory -- the poisonous kind, still vague and unremembered but triggering a response that maybe seemed out of left field. Why did they all think he was awful? He didn't do anything --- he just sputtered, “What-- excuse me?” His good cheer and playfulness had jumped ship rather rapidly, ears now turning slightly back, the whole of him pulling back a little. Maybe he should leave.

Oh how fast the tides turned.
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Olive couldn't help the way she seemed unsettled; it was almost unnatural for her to feel uncertain like this, a woman so used to living in the subtle, the elemental, the unseen. However, this memory almost felt intrusive; and the way this Mal shared it with her was entirely new and unwelcome. Generally, her visions and dreams were hers alone. Now, they were shared, and she didn't know what to do with that.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, but Olive found, more often than not, these things weren't.

Clearly uncertain, the man shrunk backwards, which afforded Olive the space to take another step towards him. "My family name is Shakti-Singing-Sunlight," she explained in earnest, unwilling to drop the matter to save the light-heartedness of moments prior. If there was one coincidence, then maybe there were two, and then they could begin to discern patterns and get to the bottom of what was certainly an unfortunate misunderstanding.

"Tell me it resonates with you, no?" the little witch pleaded, ears pinned back, wishing to hear 'yes' as much as she truly desired to hear 'no.' "It must..."

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Mal was still guarded. It still hurt maybe more than it should, but he couldn't do anything about it. At least right now. Maybe he'd talk to Hua about it later, but enough details were masked that he just... didn't want to say. He'd keep it to himself. Olive had apparently moved on without any apology, not winning herself any points there. But wait, what?

He squinted a little, trying to pick apart the pacing of what she said, “Is that in three parts?” Because he knew a Singing-Sunlight, but that was, as he noted before, part of a name he had left behind. He wasn't eager to share it. There were some ghosts he was perfectly fine forgetting. If the Singing and Sunlight were separate he'd have a far different response. If they were separate it was just chance. After all, she didn't look a damn thing like any of his family, it seemed unlikely.
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As much a Olive, a soothsayer and follower of the occult, was used to being the subject of critique, she loathed it. There was a certain glint that others' beheld in their eye when they not only didn't believe her — they thought her to be crazy. She saw it easily here and now with Mal, whom Olive was quickly writing off as a fair-weather friend. Unwilling to explore the darkness, and shrinking away from opportunities for expansion. He attempted to figure out what she was meaning, but couldn't.

But was it not he, instead of she, who brought up the hidden memory of Neverwinter in the first place?

Olive almost whined at the pregnancy of the moment as Mal asked his clarification questions. Was that necessary? Did he recognize it, or did it fall upon deaf ears? "Yes, three parts." the sylph explained, her eyes alight. She took no more steps closer to him. "I've been told it was from a marriage long ago, but now lost to the times..." She couldn't help the way her feathered ears swiveled, trying to pry any other details from her memory, but that was all her mother ever told her. It was just one of those things that she had never questioned before.

Hauling breath deep into her narrow ribcage, Olive allowed her stature to fall upon her exhale. "I apologize, I just..." She looked almost tired, or forlorn, as her gaze fell from the spotted man to the rivershore at her feet. "No one has ever been able to scry my thoughts before I think them, as you do.

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It still didn't really make sense to him. Look, the world was weird enough as it was and then there was this. At three separate parts instead of two, maybe it was just coincidence. “I know Singing and Sunlight together, but not that first name.” He was being sketchy about why though. He'd disowned his father, so it was kind of unimportant. He sort of knew his own family. It wasn't like she could be part of it. She wasn't one of his sisters. She wasn't part of his pack.

How many times did he need to say it didn't make sense? Because pass one "that doesn't make sense" to another as she continued. “I don't know what you mean by scrying. I mean, it's my history. It just is. That isn't a word that'd be related to it -- seems more like you'd be trying to scry mine if you keep finding stuff that matches but doesn't line up with what you remember.” The whole thing was just confusing, had that been mentioned, “Or something. Hell if I know, you called me a demon, you're kinda operating out in left field here.” Twisting reality. He couldn't find it all that humorous even though later on he might laugh about it.
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"I am not yet convinced that you aren't a demon," she toed the line between sobriety and jocosity, but just barely. What might have been entirely a joke, or a jab back at herself for her first demonic assumption, was electrified with an undercurrent of disbelief and reckoning that almost made it sound as if it were the truth. Olive knew he wasn't a demon... was he?

She shook her head, having seen many things in her life, but nothing as real and as corporeal as this. Generally, when it came to metaphysics, the only physical manifestation was something outside of herself. The healing of others, for example, was not something she directly could give; she was simply a conduit. She could not bring a storm with her spell-work, as much as she could ask for one to manifest. The witch could see others when they existed in another realm, but this man was here and he was real, and currently, if defied her. "It's just the strangest thing to me, that the lives we both forgot... seem to overlap." Olive glanced up to him, almost apologetically. "This might not be so new to you, but... it's new to me."

Any other wolf might have chosen to quit such a scenario at the first arcane sense, but as Olive often felt was her responsibility, she leaned into the discomfort to uncover the deeper meaning. "I wonder it means. It must mean something, no?" she questioned, wondering if he was going to look at her again, with that judgmental glare that seemed to harbor frustrations that transcended this moment in time.

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Yeah, that wasn't the response he wanted. Maybe she thought it was funny but he obviously didn't. His mouth drew faintly into more of a line. She wasn't the type who liked apologizing, huh? Or maybe she was just totally oblivious. He wasn't sure, but he liked neither option. This had all started off being a fun sort of interaction, but now he was regretting even spotting her in the first place. It made her curiosity about what happened or how they might have been linked was far less appealing than it might have otherwise been, “I might be looking for members of my family, but I don't recognize you, and if you don't recognize me aside from that name, then I dunno how that works. I'm living my life, and though I might remember only bits of it, I don't know where you might have fit into it.” Some sort of scam? Would he even want to get to know her if she turned out to be some kind of weird long-lost relative?

He shrugged, “I don't know what it means beyond that. If it means something to you, then what are you gonna do about it? I can't go on some big quest for answers -- I have family who I do need to get back to. But you're not my sister, nor my kid, but if there's some overlap... Then what does that make you?” It wasn't really accusatory, more like the way you'd ask someone who claimed they were from some alternate universe or the future when they had proven they knew a little too much.
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The Gods might have written a story for her that she would never understand; but she still had free will, and that meant she got to decide whether she welcomed this into her life, or not. Nothing could be forced upon her, not even the will of the Gods, especially if the option in question felt so opposed to her. She had tried to digest these emotions and awakenings with Mal, but he refused to provide a canvas for her to place all of her emotions upon — as was his right, they were still veritable strangers — but there was much to process, and she felt she would do this better alone.

He was questioning her, and Olive felt the skin beneath her fur become like gooseflesh unintentionally. Who was she? To someone unenlightened, she was nothing; but for a person who saw this for what it was, their meeting held unlimited potential. It figured that she had met another simpleton, Olive thought spitefully, who didn't seem to have any answers, or any willingness to discuss potentialities. "To you, I might mean nothing," she began, giving her head a brief shake, eyes refocused on the spotted stranger. "But you do not mean nothing to me." It was always a tough thing to admit, when two did not see eye to eye, and neither could acquiesce. The woman turned her head, making the decision to part for both of them.

"I... want to be alone," she muttered. Olive picked up her head, gazing into the forest at some unforeseen destination. "Excuse me," were the only two words to herald her departure, before she darted off into the underbrush.

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They certainly seemed to be operating on different wavelengths. It had gone off the path he'd planned and ended up so deep in the weeds that it certainly did feel like he needed to get back to even ground. He was never good at dealing with abstract things -- he had a hard enough time dealing with reality at times, for all his previous failures. It was giving him a bit of a headache.

About all he could offer at this point was a slight shrug and a, “Well, if you figure it out...” because he wasn't sure what else to do. She could probably find him if she wished. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to see her again but.. Who knew, maybe it would all become clear. Hua might have an idea. Or something. But she was gone in a flash. It wasn't like he could sit there and stumble over his words for much longer.

It was too weird. He shook off his pelt as if to dislodge whatever weirdness, and started heading for home.
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