searching for answers in a distant place

again, no need to match length

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Another day or so beyond the cove, sea salt began to reach his nose.

The coast always held a particular interest to Dirge, who in spite of his own intellect could not quite fathom how the world could hold a body of water so large. How such waters could be so salty and so deep, unfathomable in their reach. And though he had begun to tire in his travel, the sea salt in the air gave him stamina to power on.

Out here, the foothills had given way to much more even terrain and the forests had begun to taper considerably. Gone was the cover of the forest, soon replaced by waves of seaside grass; gone was the hard pack of soil that turned to sand and clay. He moved through it with ease that truly betrayed how difficult it actually was—he could not recall when he had gone ranging so far from home, be it the past or present.

It had been too long, he realized, when the roar of the sea reached his ears.

Soon after, atop a rise, he took in the sight.

Stormy waters to accompany a clotting, cloudy sky; the waves broke on the shore in a misty haze of their own doing. He ventured forth, guided and drawn towards it but not quite to the point of wetting his toes along the gentle sweep of soft sands far older than he would ever be. Sandpipers scurried ahead of him as fast as they could go, but he did not notice them.

Instead his gaze was drawn to calmer waters: a lagoon. Beyond it, a natural seawall of stones he could not identify. It was there that the waves crashed hardest, the strength of the ocean at full pitch and ushered in by an eastern wind of warmth. Another sight to behold and one he came to linger at as his nose worked the scent of the coast.
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Skoll did not like the mountains. It was something he discovered some time ago having to travel between his swamp and the plains - the areas were too high and usually contained packs overflowing in numbers to the point he wondered how they even lived up there. The mountains here weren't nearly as large, or maybe the area just seemed larger than the mountains themselves. Stringing along in ways that called out to him, but Skoll was afraid to traverse. He wasn't built for it anymore and hadn't been built for travel for a long time. Too thin, too weak - the wind could blow hard enough and push him over. It didn't stop him when he left to go hunt down his family, only for her to break him where he was standing. Skoll couldn't remember why they fought, only that she was angry for some reason. He went with instinct (mostly what he learned from others - Skoll was a hermit for the longest time) and fought back.

It didn't end well.

That topic didn't matter anymore, considering he was sure that wolf wasn't going to come back. As far as he was aware, she wasn't going to just appear one day. She still had a long life and Skoll was half sure this was somehow the afterlife. With a huff, he continued walking. These mountains... They didn't seem so bad. At least it didn't smell like there were twenty wolves running around this specific spot at a time. It was almost soothing until he ran into the scent of a stranger amongst the rocks and water. He could see the other man, too, but it didn't look like he'd been noticed.

Could he leave?

@Dirge

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Minutes ticked by unnoticed; Dirge found himself transfixed by the gentle lapping of waves against the shore here. Beyond him there was still the thunderous crash against the coast and the cry of gulls as they wheeled overhead. He felt that pull again, something that had been so absent. The urge to keep going, to see where his feet would take him along the coast. It was a great temptation, that wanderlust. And he had started to take soft steps towards that unknown destination when the slack in his own rein went taut.

A prickling sensation akin to pins and needles erupted across his body; he knew better than to entertain a former fancy. It would have gone against everything he had come to stand for, everything involved in his own evolution and maturity. He had his children to think of, his wife, and his home; he could not, would not abandon them. No, he had worked far too hard for the lofty station in his life to cast it aside for the siren song of the open road.

But still…

Forcing himself to turn away from the ocean itself, he found immediately that he was not alone. Though a considerable distance stood between them, his eyesight was hawkish enough to snap to a wolfish figure standing in the sawgrass and reeds. The wolf wasn’t hard to miss—both a dark blot of ink and an ivory shock against gentle greenery. The finer details of the wolf were lost to Dirge, but it did not deter him in beginning an approach towards him.

He hadn’t decided if he would entertain company just yet.

But there was plenty of time to change his course to encounter or avoid.
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Skoll was almost glad the stranger didn't move from his spot on the bank. He could leave and be unnoticed, and he could once again go searching through the place to see if there was a swamp, like his previous home. Or maybe if the mountains held an outcropping like the one Ursus lived in. Skoll craved familiarity, and he wasn't getting much of it at all in the time he'd explored so far. Sure, he'd met one wolf who used to be his enemy. Only that wolf didn't remember until he started talking. Something fishy was going on, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Maybe he was dreaming, or this was his own personal hell. Forced to run into as many others as possible and ask questions he would never get the answers to. Fitting.

Skoll didn't realize the other wolf noticed him until he remembered that he was still watching the stranger who was watching the water. The stranger didn't approach, and they were left watching one another at a standstill. At least, Skoll thought, that the other wolf wasn't out to kill him from the get-go. He'd run into too many like that, and it was bad for his already bad health. He debated approaching, himself, but there was the chance the stranger - who just had to be stronger than Skoll - could attack. Or maybe it was a dumb worry since he'd approached others before and done just fine.

He didn't move from his spot.

@Dirge

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Closer now, he could pull in the finer details that gave substance to the figure ahead of him. The first of which he took note of were scars—they littered his roughshod frame and looked every bit as weathered as the pelage he wore. No doubt about it then, the fellow was certainly someone who had the rough end of things. Perhaps not so recently, but who was he to say?

Dirge had never been one to back down, whether it was for the sake of conversation or not. That rough appearance only told a story and even as he drew nearer, there was naught to suggest that he was about to walk headlong into a trap. Confidence pulled to him as he closed in that distance between them, going back on the very path he had taken to get there; even at his full height though, the two-toned wolf still stood taller.

“If you were looking for a swim, best have at it while the tide’s still out,” he offered in lieu of a greeting, his head tossing back over his shoulder to gesture at the lagoon. “Bit too cold still for my liking, unfortunately.” At least he hadn’t lost his touch for handling wayfarers and easy conversation, no matter how long it had been since he had engaged in such.

Too long, really.
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The wolf gets closer, but Skoll doesn't bolt. He's almost amazed the stranger chose to approach instead of leaving him behind. Skoll hadn't said anything, after all, but at least he has the chance to ask questions if the stranger was willing to hear them. Or if he could get the questions out of his damn mouth. Skoll does not pride himself in being the best talker, but around strangers, it is even worse. It's times like this that he misses speaking with Evien, Merrick, and the others. It's too late for that, now. Skoll quickly shuns himself in his head before watching the stranger through mismatched eyes.

Skoll kept his body straight, ears pricked. Entirely in a sense of false confidence that he does not feel inside. Still, it was best to show off in that way so strangers didn't try and overpower him right away, right? Still, most could without even trying. He prides himself in being agile enough to evade some attacks while going for weak points, but Skoll doesn't go out of his way to fight even if he's trained in it. He'd rather lie his way out of situations to run as quickly, and as far as possible. The swimming comment takes him off guard, though, and Skoll figures the wolf isn't trying to intimidate him. He still does without trying.

"I don't..." He mutters at first. "I'm not here to swim." His voice is scratchy, Skoll blames his lack of words on it.

The awkwardness settles in and Skoll debates taking a break for it again, but he doesn't move.

"This place is strange." He mutters, bringing up a different topic of conversation. To maybe coax out information in a way that doesn't require asking real questions. Not yet, anyway.

@Dirge

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There was a uncertainty that seemed to imbue the wolf that Dirge couldn’t help but take interest in—far too long he had been surrounded by the confidence of his own kin that he almost forgot that there were those who had less constitution than that. Complacency had dulled him to the variety that the world had to offer, and the realization of that threatened to sour him. But there were plenty of things that soured him and fortunately for the stranger, he wouldn’t find himself on the receiving end of such.

“Strange, how so? Have you never seen the ocean before?”

So he probed instead, looking back to the waves and sandy shore and trying to recall if he had ever once stood there the way that the other had. Perhaps so, no doubt entranced and in a state akin to shock at the sight. Overwhelmed, even. His gaze shifted back to the stranger instead, his canting with his curiosity at play.
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Okay, so maybe mentioning the strangeness of the place was a bad idea. He hadn't meant just the specific area they were in, but this entire.... Landmass in total. From the mountains to the desert to the tundra, all of it was strange. How else would he explain wolves waking up without any idea how they got there? Explain how he died and woke up alive again. Still, it looked like he got the other wolf's interest just on mentioning the strangeness alone, even if it wasn't entirely what he was going for. The fact that Skoll hadn't actually ever seen an ocean before was beside the point. The ocean itself wasn't actually that weird, just a bunch of salty water that he couldn't drink. He stands there, awkward again for a few moments.

"I should be dead!" He blurts it out with more strength than he's had in a long time, and maybe yelling in the face of a stranger was a bad idea. It didn't look like Dirge was going to attack him, though.

"Uh" Well, shit. "I remember dying - I wasn't even in this place and all of a sudden me and others are waking up with no idea how they got here? Isn't that strange?" He rambles - Skoll doesn't ramble. He's never rambled like that. His confusion is clearly getting to his head, but wouldn't it for everyone?

Or was it the fact that he ran into someone okay to talk with him? Skoll didn't know what he would do if he ran into another ex Easthollow wolf, or if he ran into one from the Saints. He'd rather not open that extremely specific pack of worms until it happened, thank you very much.

@Dirge

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It was a surprising turn of events that struck a chord in him and suddenly he felt the burning sensation arise across his skin when it shouldn’t have been there at all. At first, Dirge wasn’t sure if it was a response just by being suddenly yelled at or not. It could have been, it was a reasonable response to feel that hurt, that hurt, the very essence of emotion at a head… but it seemed deeper than that.

And the thought that went with it—none of them should have been dead.

But he wasn’t sure that he believed that, not truly. There were far too many things that he didn’t understand, that he couldn’t grasp the logic of and therefore had thrown away as best as he could. The only direction there was now was to move forward to whatever or wherever that would be.

“Life is strange,” he caught himself saying, following it up with a shrug. “But you’re alive now, aren’t you? Got a pulse and breathe, feel pain and the ilk, don’t you? Maybe we aren’t meant to know the reasons why.” He started off strong but even he felt his own confidence waver in spite of his easy tone. He didn’t have any answers but couldn’t commit fully to agreeing either.

He shook his head—he didn’t have time for this either, it seemed.

“I suppose I should ask is what you intend to do with it. Your life, that is. This could very well be the afterlife for all we know, so why bother wasting it wondering why? Evidently life wasn’t done with us, or for us.” He might have lost that little bit of confidence a moment ago, but he found it again just as swift and pointed as the gaze he cast on the boy. “Let’s start with something simple: what’s your name?”
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When silence came, Skoll's first reaction was panic. He revealed his death, but not how he died. Skoll remembered it so vividly. He assumed it was mostly due to the murderer being his sibling, but Skoll knows he latches onto memories and things like candy - he can't control it, but he's never had to. Regret and fear bubbles up in his chest, and Skoll wonders if he can play it off like a joke. Death wasn't a joke, though, and Skoll wasn't trying to pick one. He knew what death looked like, and it was nothing to make fun of. It was painful, and it stuck to the ends of time.

Dirge finally speaking catches Skoll off guard more than it should. He doesn't jump, and him being startled doesn't come through except for the smallest of movements it would take a moment to catch. Skoll doesn't know if he feels pain, exactly, but he really, really does not want to find out. Having a heartbeat was enough, he should feel pain. If he was alive, yeah?

The question was asked, and Skoll had no idea what to do with it. What was he going to do with his life?

"I don't know." He responded.

Because he didn't. Skoll didn't know. it wasn't like he had a list of life plans out. Skoll ran away from home once, did nothing, joined a pack, left the pack, got murdered by his own sibling, and was now standing in front of a stranger trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He also kind of hated the mountains but that was an entire different story.

"Skoll Almir. You?"

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He didn’t know.

That didn’t surprise Dirge—who really knew what it was that they wanted out of life? Or perhaps more importantly, who out there could really say that they had stayed on the course that they had set out upon? There had been a time in his life when he thought he would do nothing more than travel and have his way, that he would always uncover what treasures life had set out, what secrets existed in the world.

He may have longed for a taste of that still, but he was not oblivious to how things had certainly changed. There was hardly an ounce of blame to place, but if he had been so inclined to do so, he would have blamed Hydra for it. There had always been something about her that had drawn him in, something so very enchanting—he had thought that he would simply steal her away, but time and charm alone had never been enough to shake her of her own roots.

And in turn, it was he that had changed.

“You can call me Dirge,” he offered in return. “What were you in your past life? A hunter? Fighter?” Punching bag, maybe, given the look of him. He employed the directness both he and Hydra carried, cutting to the chase: “You seem like you need a purpose either way, and I may have a solution for that if you’re willing and able.”
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Skoll definitely felt the need to explore the lands in his body - just so he could map out every location in his head just in case. He didn't want to run right into a snakepit of wolves who wanted to eat him alive. Anyone familiar to him would be avoided for the most part - Skoll didn't want to die again. He had enough of it before he woke up in this place. Still, if he had to protect himself Skoll refused to become a punching bag, he knew how to fight and he knew what he could do despite his stature. Honestly, if he remembered to eat when he should it wouldn't be a problem. Not that he would ever be large.

Dirge was the man's name, Skoll plastered it in his brain to remember in case they met again in the future. The question wasn't surprising, but Skoll was sure he could surprise Dirge.

"I uh. Was a fighter? I'm good despite how I look." The words came out a jumbled mess, but Dirge would (hopefully) understand it enough.

His long ears perked when Dirge proposed a solution to his lack of a life. Ha, funny.

"Oh?"

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It may have been somewhat surprising, but if there was one thing that Dirge could attest to was that no fighter made it through battles completely unscathed. Even the ones who may not have had physical prowess behind them could have a tenacious will to survive and it would have seemed that Skoll was one of them.

It made his next words much easier to say.

“Come back to my pack with me,” he offered. “Rest your head, get something to eat. You’ll find there are many of us with the same story and either way we’re here, dead or alive. We could always use the able bodied, of course, but we have our share of fighters and defenders as well. There is safety in numbers,” he went on, pausing for effect alone, “and perhaps you’ll find answer or reason both in them.”
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Skoll wouldn't have even learned how to fight if it wasn't for getting attacked by that one guy a couple times, and living in Ursus. Being in that pack meant Skoll had to be on his toes all the time. They had too many enemies and made a show out of making them. It was fine until it wasn't, but Skoll never abandoned them in the middle of battle like he should have. Eventually he left to find his sibling, and well, that hadn't ended up well either. If he ever found his way back he was sure Merrick would welcome him with open paws, but Skoll wasn't aiming to go back. He would have left the mountain already if that were the case.

Getting an offer to get into a pack wasn't something Skoll set out to do, nor was it really expected that Dirge would offer it in the first place. Most wouldn't want someone that could be broken by a strong wind, but if he did get to a healthy weight again Skoll would be rather strong. Strong enough to keep himself alive, anyway. In Ursus he was fine to weigh how he did - the other members kept the enemies' attention while he worked in the background to deliver blows not right in the danger zone. At least, sometimes. His purpose was to plan, but he never got far into it before the pack made wars. If many of them had the same story as him though, Skoll wanted to know. He needed to know. The wolf ignored the smell of smoke in his nostrils and opened his maw to give an answer.

"Okay." A pause. "Okay." He didn't know what else he could say. He also was getting tired from all the talking, even if it was only a little bit.

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There was a beat of silence between them, a moment where Dirge wasn't sure that Skoll would acquiesce. Which if he didn't, there was little he could do; he wasn't the sort to go pushing on someone blessed with free will, no matter how well or poorly he appealed to the nature of survival. But it could have been said that his extension of kindness was a wavering thing—the knavish king did not often go out looking to recruit when for the longest of times, there had not been a necessity to. But here, in this unfamiliar environment where he could not be certain what dangers lurked and laid between the shadow of forest or night, it seemed a wiser thing to do.

And then the moment came where the scarred wolf caved, and Dirge picked up where he had left off with a nod.

"Come with me," he said then, stepping past him and back the way he had gone. "We live in the mountains east of here, along the river. We've made it safe and secure to ward off less than savory sorts. I can share what I know while we travel." He thought that he could take him as far as he was able to go before passing him off in a manner of speaking; there was much more Dirge wanted to scout, but knew that the wolves and family that Empyrean housed would be more than able to guide Skoll along.
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