fill in the shadows, block out the light

The group had continued to take it slow, after the altercation in the Plains had crescendoed into carnal disarray. There were wounds that needed to be tended to and energy that needed to be recouped, and a witch, a cat, and a child were not the ideal companions for a longer-term convalescent period in the quickening frigidity of winter, in unknown, unwelcome lands. Despite their injuries (which were mostly superficial) they changed rendezvous sites often and carefully avoided pack borders, not wishing to bring more ill-will upon themselves in a weakened & healing state.

Thankfully, having three vastly different personalities meant her small family unit was strong in ways that Olive was, ultimately grateful for. Olive had their direction and vision for the future, Benry had brawn (whether he realized it or not), and archon had enough youthful vigor to keep the injured two going. They shared stories and cast jokes, and more often than not, the two males would gang up on the sylph and make fun of her many mystifying proclivities. If anything, they managed to keep each other in high spirits, and that was okay with Olive.

Many times, the shrouded sylph wondered when was the right time to descend unto the mountainous, clouded valley where Riannon settled. It would offer them safety and quietude (and, of course, was their eventual destination), but Olive was feeling fiery & stubborn. She didn't want the woman to assume this was a decision made of necessity, not of the combined power of fate and free will. There was no 3D force in the world, she believed, that could force her hand. Aware of the optics of the situation, Olive hid out in the enclave of the mountains a little while longer, but she moved her small party closer, settling in the rocky outcrops just east of Frostchant.

While she waited, the little herbalist sought out the autumnal herbs that might help her and Benry's body more rapidly heal their low-level wounds. Her black-leather nose poked around the base of a tree, seeking familiar plant scents, knowing they could not linger her forever. Soon, she would need to follow up on her commitment to the wolfkind to cloudrest, and the duty she had to keep her companions away from evil.

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 He hadn't intentionally been searching for her, it had just sort of happened that he recognized the musky lupine scent as hers. The one traveling with the strange kittypet LionClan warrior. He had more questions than answers about those two and had found himself following her scent quite curiously. 

 He followed a little way behind, trying to work up the courage to actually say something to her. If it had been another cat, he would have happily come out to confront her but since it was a wolf, well, he didn't know if she were hungry and willing to eat him rather than talk to him. Just because she had seemed the friendliest out of all of the other wolves, didn't mean that she still was feeling the same way since then. 

 He decided on a happy medium by staying near a tree as he watched her searching for herbs. Medicine Wolf... the phrase echoed in his mind as he looked at her. Still, he remained watching from the undergrowth before casually walking out and standing near the base of a tree. A quick getaway if he needed it. "Looking for herbs or some shit?" He called out, trying to confirm his suspicions. He had never dabbled in learning that trade but he'd accompanied medicine cats to make sure they stayed safe in times of war.

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"Looking for herbs or some shit?"

If she hadn't been so intimately familiar with the tones and sounds of her cougar's voice, she (once again) might have mistaken this tomcat for Benry. The words he said certainly felt familiar, but this particular voice struck her in a different way — as something that existed in a periphery of a memory; not the direct focus, but still present. The pale druid lifted her crown, ears swiveling like satellites in the direction of the voice, and when she laid eyes upon him, the full memory rushed to fill her.

Her green eyes glinted as they narrowed playfully. "Oh, now you're interested in conversing," she jested, remembering how he had unceremoniously inserted himself into an occasion he had no business with, and how quickly he had taken his leave. Truly, it was the woman who should be abashed, for she was the one who had dared to tread where she had. Gods, it felt like that all happened a decade ago — so much had happened since then, but still, nothing really seemed to change. Plans had been laid and forged over snow, and Olive knew that her free will would bend her path to fit. The fates, as often as she had asked them, couldn't seem to make an argument for otherwise. The sylph unfurled her body from the trunk of the tree to face him fully.

"Yes," she answered his question briefly, before commenting "I remember you," just incase he didn't remember her.

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 The wolven woman's head turned towards him, eyes glinting in a playful way he knew all too well. Whether it was a wolf or a cat the common expressions were fairly readable across the species. He grinned back at her, tail now held high and flicking casually back and forth in general mischievousness while his whiskers trembled in amusement. "A bit easier to do when you ain't got a thousand fuckin' wolves around that may or may not want to eat you." He tossed back with a smirk. While he could have stuck around before, he hadn't wanted to press his luck. 

 He could tell that this one who walked with cats wasn't going to hurt him, so he dared a few steps closer before stopping with his tail swaying lazily in the air above him. "Yeah, I remember you too." Else he wouldn't have bothered... bothering her because who knew which wolves wanted to converse, and which wanted a quick snack. "You were traveling with that LionClan warrior." Although "warrior" seemed to be a loose term as the cat seemed fairly tamed in Moosebellow's eyes. What was her name again? "Mmolive? Was it?" He couldn't completely recall if that was right or not, either way it didn't seem fair that he might have gotten her name and he'd never properly introduced himself. "Name's Moosebellow. Don't think I ever got around to introducing myself before." Tended to happen when like four behemoths found your hiding tree.

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Olive couldn't help but chuckle when he spoke of the thousand fuckin' wolves they had both encountered prior, but she immediately pursed her lips into a thin line, wishing she could inhale her laughter back inside of her, and equally as much hoping he did not take offense to it. Truly, she had no idea what it felt like to be him in such a situation. It was tense between the pale sylph, the roan guardian and their two respective bodyguards, and the tomcat had been the odd man out in both size and relations. If he had felt as prey might feel, who was Olive to minimize his experience? It wasn't how Olive understood it to be, however, and she felt the need to gently guide him into a different way of thinking.

"Eat you?" she questioned, a twinge incredulously. "You are not something that is meant to be eaten," and the laughter returned to her voice, because it was obvious to any creature with eyes that this man belonged to a class of predators; those who hunted, rather than be hunted themselves. He was a tiny Benry, was he not? "You look to me almost like a carbon copy of my guard," she clarified, but began to assume that he knew what she was talking about, as he knew his own lives experience. He was not in any true danger of being hunted, not when he was able to move soundlessly, contort his body into all manners of shape, and scale the heights of trees with ease. Mostly, she wanted to overly affirm that he was at least safe here, with her. The fae likely could not catch him, even if she had wanted to. "I, too, am smaller than most," she offered lightly, wondering if that meant anything to the cat. She was, granted, still far larger than he.

And when the cat asked her name, she grinned inwardly and hung her head to the side, lolling he tongue out in a silly gesture. Benry had many variations of her name, and this slightly slurred one presented itself often. "It's just Olive, actually." The woman of ash and cream tucked her chin in towards her hyoid bone, her green eye rapt with attention. "Pleasure to formally meet you, Moosebellow."

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 She laughed and, honestly, he wasn't offended in the least. It took a lot to piss him off and there was usually a problem at that point. She probably found his phrasing amusing and he couldn't be pissed about that. Not like it would do anything anyway. "Glad someone fucking thinks so. I had some dung-ridden wolf tree me when I first got here. She started clawing at the bark to have my ass." Had he antagonized her a bit? Well, yeah, he had. In his defense, he hadn't known that the wolves could actually understand him at that point. "So, are the wolves here different or some shit? Because I've known a couple'a cats that got eaten by wolves. Hell, I've known a few cats that got eaten by dung-eatin' dogs! Around here though, most of you guys just wanna talk. Weird as shit but I ain't gonna complain." Nosiree, not when it meant he didn't have to live in almost constant fear in wolf-territory. Wolf-territory... which seemed to be everywhere. 

 But her guard, eh? "Yeah! That LionClan warrior... although his name was too fucking weird to be any warrior I know. What is he? Some sorta kittypet or something?" And then he realized she might not know the term since she was, well, a wolf. "Kittypet as in, owned by twolegs." Hopefully she knew what "twolegs" were, at least. He hadn't seen or smelled any of those here, either, now that he thought about it. 

 And then, when she remarked on her size, he walked closer. He knew this one wasn't going to hurt him, so he walked up to her and sat right in front of her. "Could've fooled me. You seem pretty fuckin' huge." He said with a crooked grin and a laugh. He brought his bushy tail around his paws as he looked up at her. 

 His nose wrinkled in amusement at her goofy expression. She looked more like a silly dog than a vicious wolf. Granted, dogs could be plenty vicious as well. "Nice to meet you as well, then... 'Just Olive'." He said with a cheeky smile.

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He was funny, this little predator. He was incredibly verbose, which thrilled her, because for once she was not the most talkative of two correspondents. The woman allowed herself to be regaled by his banter and turns of phrase, following along blithely as he recounted the particular wolves who made him feel as though he might be eaten. For a moment, Olive's eyes widened at the potentiality that Moosebellow had run into Daighre, but she settled herself with a silent affirmation: I am safe. I don't need to feel threatened anymore.

Hopefully, the dung-ridden wolf that the cat spoke of was not another to prove her mantra wrong.

"I've never heard anyone call birds 'two-legs' before," she commented rather simply, wrongly assuming the only two-legged creatures in the world to be those with wings. She didn't linger long on this, as there were a number of words that he used that she wasn't familiar with: kittypet and lionclan, to name a few. Chalk it up to cultural differences. More importantly, Olive felt she needed to address the incorrect assertion of Benry's bloodthirsty, warrior-like nature. Olive reclined on her haunches, and gestured passively with a pointed paw. “Don't fret, my lion is a warrior indeed,” she explained with a smile upon her face and her mind dancing with memories of the many encounters she and the mountaincat had weathered together. Her group had not been ousted from the northern pack's hunting grounds for no reason, after all.

For a little dramatic flair, she added a colorful anecdote. “I’ve seen him nearly slaughter the most morose of beasts. A wolf that was evil incarnate,” she raised an eyebrow surreptitiously. “The only reason he didn’t is because he is outrageously merciful," she commented proudly, only feigning the truth a littttttttle in order to paint a brighter image upon the canvas of this colorful conversation. Not all wolves wanted to talk, both she and Moosebellow knew this to be true, but she truly craved it.

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 "Birds?!" He blurted out, unable to hold his tongue when she made the wrong assumption. He laughed, quite amused, and shook his head. "Not fuckin' birds. Two-legs are these creatures that change everything they touch! They've got no fur on their bodies and walk upright on their hind paws. They use their front ones for touchin' every fuckin' thing that they can." Grubby little beasts couldn't keep their paws to themselves! Especially the twoleg kits! "You haven't seen'em before?" Wait, did that mean..? "There ain't any here?" Was he fucking free of them? Come to think of it, he hadn't seen a Thunderpath or smelled any of their disgusting monsters since being here. 

 What a blessing if that was true! Maybe StarClan was on his side. 

 Then, Olive assured him of Benry's warrior status. "Is that so?" An invitation for her to divulge further, though she needed no invitation as she regaled him with the lion's vast exploits. He listened, eyes almost glowing with intrigue and interest at the slurring cat's exploits. Alright, alright, he seemed a bit more than a weird pampered kittypet. He had to give him that. 

 Just like that, he was interested in meeting Benry again. Maybe mountain lions were just left out of the warriors tales? 

 "He does sound like a real warrior then. Not to get all preachy, but a true warrior knows when to kill and when to show mercy." It was a lesson that should be common sense but a lot of the time it was not. Some cats were a bit overzealous. "Where's your buddy now, then?" Not that he wanted to meet him right now or anything... he was just curious. Yeah, that was it.

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Olive listened with no small sense of disbelief as Moosebellow described his 'two-legged' template, which did sound like a sight to behold — but honestly Olive put as much stock in these hairless bipeds as she did dragons, or true shapeshifters and the ilk. They were archetypal theories, existing strong in the minds of those who believed in it. Believing is what made these things real, though one might never glimpse one with the naked eye. "They sound horrible," she admitted with a grimace, but didn't linger upon the inconceivable for much longer.

"I agree," she nodded along when the cat noted his opinions on warriors, and she thought he had some keen insight on the subject, perhaps from experience where she mostly came from speculation. Truthfully, if Benry had listened to her, perhaps the golden wolf might be a skeleton entirely buried by a season's dirt; she had been that convinced of his damnation ( and still was). She wanted him to die; was slightly relieved that Benry had decided to take care of this problem for her — it was Benry's discrimination alone that allowed the man to walk free.

The pale woman blinked and lifted her head slightly, glancing around their immediate whereabouts. It wasn't out of the question for her leonine guardian to be incognito, and close by. "He is likely nearby..." she muttered as she looked too and fro, but after a moment, her darting gaze fell to Moosebellow with a wry, twist of a smile. "Such interest in my cohort!" she exclaimed with faux-astonishment. If she could, she would have pressed a hand upon her décolletage. "Am I not interesting enough for you?"

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 "Damn straight." Horrible fucking creatures but when his companion didn't linger, neither did he. Nothing else needed to be said. They didn't seem to be here and that was good enough for him. Imagine his luck. No monsters, no Thunderpaths, no two-legs. He just had to trade in literally everything else that he knew... totally fair, right? 

 It seemed she didn't have much to offer by way of warrior talk, which made sense considering she was a medicine cat healer. In any case she confirmed that her friend was likely lurking, playing distant-not-so-distant protector. Moosebellow glanced into the neighboring woodlands and opened his mouth so that he could taste the air. He could scent nothing else for the moment, nothing else save for the she-wolf and other faint wolf smells. Bah! Damn wolves and their musk. 

 Although, when she spoke again, he twisted his head back around to her... and noted the wry expression on her face. He let loose a laugh and then smirked. His tail arched high over his back and his whiskers trembled in amusement. "I don't know, it takes a lot to keep my interest." He walked away, as if suddenly unamused by her. He walked 'round her to a tree behind her where he'd reach up and rake his claws along the bark. "I think I'm bored as fuck already." And to punctuate this he let out an obnoxiously loud yawn. Slyly he'd look back at her and wink. "Practically fallin' the fuck to sleep, if you can't tell." He gave her a toothy grin, teasing and clearly anything but bored with his current company.

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The woman uttered a slight gasp as the cat answered her retort with one of his own, adding on quite the dramatic flair by yawning and clawing at a tree in feigned boredom — or at least she hoped it was feigned, for Olive would rather be no other place than conversing with a stranger, and learning what exactly made them such a unique presence in the world. "You wouldn't be the first to die of boredom on me," she admitted with a subtle double-entendre. "or, the first to die at all," meaning both of boredom and, well... of various wounds, disease, or poisons.

To clarify, she stepped closer to his scratching post, and continued. "I've had some wolves claiming healing is boring," Specifically, she was thinking of Tiberius, who was obvious in his preference for the way of the warrior. She didn't believe him when he had claimed healing to be boring. No one ever thought this when they actually needed a healer. In the very least, her brand of psychosomatic healing was far from boring. "In my experience, it's been very much the contrary." For a moment, she sniffed absentmindedly at the claw marks in the tree's bark, marveling at how she would never be able to do such a thing.

"Perhaps, then, you can regale me with an excerpt from your life as a warrior? I'd love to share a healer's tale with you, in turn."

and the two talked, and chatted, and then thanked each other for their company and moved along.

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