Surprises ((Tagged))

[Fierfly]

((@wiltingwallflower))

Epsilon:

The day was calm and mild like spring ought to have been, but often wasn't. A light, mellow breeze rushed over the territory through the new leaves and flowers of the saplings and older trees framing the sky and scattered, dappled sunshine reached down between that. Light, hushed songs from the early-birds echoed here or there, but for the most part things were relatively silent. It was a quiet morning, a still, quiet morning - he could handle that.

The massive silver male had been wandering aimlessly around the territory for the better part of two hours. He felt no drive to hunt so early in the day with the cache they were building under the old, scarred tree and Alphess Blaise had not called for him - probably wouldn't call for him for a while - he was an early-riser, and he had no idea what his teacher's preferences were.

Still, something in particular had driven him from sleep on this particular moment, and he was searching to find out what it was.

[Deleted]

Zamir has been travelling for days on end; so long, in fact, he has lost track of how far he has come. His nose is so tired of working itself for the barest chance of catching prey that he doesn't notice when he crosses the scent marker into wolf territory. After walking about an hour, his long, but thin and weak legs stop moving. The injuries on his rump and shoulders, not to mention the gash in his right foreleg, are burning. One of them splits open and starts bleeding again, not like there are not enough blood trails in his pelt already. Half of his left ear is missing, and by the looks of it, the wound is fresh. His ribs heave with each harsh breath, as there isn't much fat left on him after his journey.

Despite catching a new scent on the wind, he can only stumble forward a few more steps before his shaking legs give out under him. He collapses on the ground with a huff, and once he is down he starts whimpering out soft little sobs leave his maw, oily tears in his eyes.

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

His "search" wasn't getting him anywhere. Of course the territory was different - the season had just changed, a change in feel and appearance and smell was to be expected, but he could find none worthy of restlessness he was experiencing now. Seasons changed - he knew that. He'd seen enough of them roll by himself, he knew that changes came with the seasons - he shouldn't have been this unsettled. What else had changed in the territory to make him so alert and anxious.

Nothing.

Finally stopping at the freshly broken and once again flowing trickle that ran through the territory he took his fill, quenching his thirst from a long few hours of pure, restless roaming. He was getting incorrigible, too soft and lazy, even the regular changes of season were unsettling him. What was his problem?

A quiet sob caught his attention and the blue-coated ears pricked forward with interest. A sob? No longer thirsty he crossed the stream and poked his head into a cover of underbrush and he felt his blue eyes go wide with what he found. It was a cub! Well...not really. He looked nearly a year, maybe about the age of young Helios - White Magic help him...he was practically in pieces. Fresh, raw red scrapes adorned his rump, back and shoulders, half of his left ear had almost certainly been chewed off and gaunt, sharp ribs poked out of his pelt - he hadn't been eating - at least not eating well. "By the Power..." he muttered, completely shocked with what he'd found. Was he in the pack? No...he didn't resemble anyone in particular - nor did he have the familiar scent of the territory on him. This young wolf was a stranger, and he needed help. "What happened?"

[Deleted]

Zamir's ice-blue eyes widen, shimmering with tears when a new, close by scent catches his attention. He looks around him frantically, glaring down at his limbs, which, as much as he tries to get them to, refuse to work properly. After a moment, he stops and instead looks fearfully toward the voice that he can only barely hear with his right ear; at the moment, the left is flooded with blood. "Wh-who's there?" he squeaks with a voice raw from lack of proper nutrition. His breathing remains harsh despite being on his belly, each inhale sharp and painful. The youngwolf's shoulders start trembling, his black right hindleg twitching as if trying to will itself into motion.

He is scared, and that much is easy to smell on him. The fear of being attacked when he already has so little a chance is strong, but what he fears more is being showed kindness by what is seemingly a shocked wolf—by the sound of the stranger's mumbled words that is. He cannot handle kindness, being from a small—now obliterated—pack who only favored strength. While he is strong both by will, and normally by body, he hadn't been treated well because of who his parents were. The abusive beta and his lover, that is.

"Wh-who are you?! Where a-am I?! Sh-show yourself!" he growls shakily, somehow managing to stumble to his paws. His pale-furred, wounded right foreleg trembles harder than the others but he forces himself to stay up.

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

He was shaking, trembling sporadically as large, scared eyes looked around anxiously for the source of the voice. His ear was still dripping with blood and he just couldn't get his breath properly - this yearling needed some serious help. As he struggled to his feet Epsilon finally put himself in full view of the yearling, standing tall and as an authority figure, but calmly and not threatening.

"Here I am Stranger." His low steady voice kept even and almost soft and gentle as he studied the cub before him. "You're in the Sapling Grove territory, home to the neutral Secluded Sunrise pack. We won't hurt you." Poor half-dead little guy, still bleeding, trembling, whimpering, scared out of his wits. Not so unlike someone he used to know. "Now how about you tell me who you are?"

[Deleted]

"I am Z-Zamir. My...my pack n-no longer remains," Zamir states softly, barely able to hear himself with his one good ear. His tail sways nervously behind him before fitting itself between his hind legs. "Are... A-are there more of y-you...? H-how many? Where? A-are you sure th-they will not hurt me? M-my mother said not to trust anyone else." His small body starts shaking like a leaf in a harsh wind. Tears continue to well up in those forest green eyes of his, and his one and a half ears go back on his head, more blood oozing from the left and causing him to wince. "I... I am hungry, Elder Wolf. I c-cannot hunt well for myself, Elder Wolf. M...may I go with you, Elder Wolf?" He addresses the pack wolf with a title of respect and speaks formally, as he has only just been aquainted with the brute.

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

Half-dead, starving, wounded, scared out of his mind. Sympathy welled up and settled in his heart instantly. The young one was stuttering, begging for answers, tripping over his own questions. So many - he needed to slow down. His name would be a good place to start. Zamir, different, not the typical style you heard in the Valley and he certainly didn't have the extravagant colors of most, but he needed help, and help he'd get.

"Slow down Zamir," his voice was gentle and assuring, but firm. "I am a part of the pack that calls these lands home and I assure you, they will not hurt you, you can trust us." What on earth had happened to this wolfling to startle him so much? To wound him so badly and make him so afraid? What? "You are definitely coming with me, we need to get you something to eat and then we'll talk more." a slight, hesitating grin crept onto his maw. "Elder Wolf"? Pshaw, he was only four. Old enough to be Zamir's father, but he wasn't old, eight or nine was old, he had years ahead of him before that yet. "And call me Epsilon, I'm no pack elder just yet."

Hopefully the yearling would relax a little, he was so tense and fidgety he was sure the anxiety wasn't helping with his bleeding or hunger and he didn't quite trust him to walk on his own - yet he was too big to carry by the scruff. So instead Epsilon crouched down and cleanly butted his head between Zamir's legs and sat up until he was safely slung across his back and he started for a rabbit den he'd spotted on his trek minutes before.

[Deleted]

Zamir winces when he is told to slow down, lowering his head in shame. Surprisingly he doesn't receive a physical reprimand to go along with the verbal one, despite him being hyper-aware of the fact that the scold is told in a gentler tone than ever before. Luckily his ears perk as he is invited along, tail lifting from it's hiding place between his hindlegs. "Epsilon is an odd name, El... Young Wolf. Th-the names from my pack are—were tied to more legends and our an-ancestry. I...I am not sure if o-our legends are the s-same as your pack's, Young Wolf, but they cannot be...t-too different, can they?"

His grin his wide, but falls instantly away when he is somehow moved onto Epsilon's back. A whimper of pain leaves his maw, the back of the older male making his ribs ache. The injury on his right foreleg burns, but as he was standing on it before, he is able to ignore it. "Eld—Young Wolf, my bones d-do not like this," he whines politely. His sides scream at him with each harsh breath, his heart racing against Epsilon's spine.

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

Zamir whimpered in pain and tried not to let his voice get too bitter with complaining. "I know," he assured the yearling gently, "I'll set you down in a minute or two. I'm sure I saw a rabbit burrow somewhere around here - we'll get you something to eat and then take a look at those wounds." He was no healer, but the wounds needed some kind of tending to, he'd have to find some help. Wait, did the pack even have a healer? If so he hadn't met them yet - he would have to ask Alphess Blaise about finding one, or at least a tender for the wounded...maybe Amora would qualify?

Aha, this would work nicely. An old, lightning-struck tree in the clearing had its trunk split open into a comfortable hollow just about the right size for Zamir to take shelter in and heal up. The rabbit burrow couldn't have been far. Epsilon crouched back down and rolled over enough to side the poor bag of bones and thudding heart off of his spine and into the hollow. "Let me get a rabbit, I'll be right back and then we'll talk. Don't move," he turned and briskly set off for the burrow he'd been spotting.

[Deleted]

Zamir tightens his jaw when he is lowered into the hollow, ears going flat and the left spewing more hot blood down his cheek. "E-Epsilon, Young Wolf, please don't—" he is gone. A sudder runs down his exposed spine, a whimper slipping from his maw. In another pack's territory with his new friend leaving him in a tree hollow? It is not ideal, and the fact that he knows none other than Epsilon makes him fearful. Should another wolf find him, it is possible he will be killed. This is the thought that makes him lower onto his belly, dig his nails into the earth and make himself as flat as possible. His multi-brown shaded pelt makes it easy to blend into the dirt and shadows, but his breathing is too ragged and the blood on his tan foreleg prominent.

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

Thank-goodness he was so observant to small details. Two small ridges betrayed an entrance each. Hopefully the den wasn't actually very big. He growled into one of the entrances and as expected a single jack-rabbit streaked out the other. His large silver form sailed after the fleeing lagamorph and he mercifully snapped its neck before taking it back to Zamir.

He found him curled into a hardly-breathing lump of fur and bones. He again wondered - what on earth had happened to the poor wolfling? What had mutilated him so badly? Now was a good time to find out. He dropped the jackrabbit. "Go on, eat. Tell me what happened and how you got here,"

The cub was too tense, Epsilon reclined as well, hopefully looking relaxed enough to sooth Zamir, but his ears were alert to listen for anyone else who might be approaching and he was prepared to defend his new little friend if he needed to.

[Deleted]

Zamir carefully crawls out of the hiding place, positioning his small, emaciated body between the trunk of the tree and his companion. His nose twitches as he carefully sniffs at the rabbit, his tail wagging slowly. Instead of questioning Epsilon's kindness at allowing him to eat first, as the lack of obeying before had gotten him scolded, he lowers his maw to the meal and takes a slow bite. Tears well up in his eyes as his teeth sink into soft flesh, and soon his entire body is lowered onto the ground—still tense—and he is digging into the fallen specimen.

"My father is—was—the pack beta, and he and my mother had other pups to care for. I am—was—the runt, so I did not get a lot of food, Young Wolf. I have always been quite thin, I guess... But Mother said she loved me and that I was only pushed aside so I could grow stronger. And so I did! But Father was never happy with me. And then one day, a rival pack found out that Father killed one of their pups who had stepped into our small territory. And they offered me up as compensation... You see, only my friend, Kalih, had tried to stop them. And...then things got out of control. It was not entirely my fault, as after that, the pack was okay and only a few had died. It was my father, bitter because my siblings had been killed, who decided to provoke the mountain-cats as a suicide attempt. I do not know what that word means. But at the last moment, Father ran into the pack and the cat, who had several big cubs by her side, attacked us."

He took a pause to devour another bit of the rabbit before him. Now that he is calmer around Epsilon, his stutter has been replaced with rambling, just a fast paced speech that made him mumble in some areas. After swallowing, he looks up at the male wolf, ears perked and tail wagging slowly behind him, body relaxing mostly. "But see, Young Wolf, now I am with you! My pack is gone, and now I may join this one, if their alpha is kind enough to allow me to. I am so very excited to meet them!"

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

Once Zamir trusted himself enough to crawl forward and start eating, worry and anxiety dissipated almost instantly. The stuttering faded away and he began recounting his tale. The runt of his litter - it sounded like an almost abusive father - and a foolish, selfish one at that. Endangering the entire pack to satisfy his own pride and grief? His poor little friend.

Now he had to pause and study Zamir, lean frame, study stilt-legs, green eyes - so very similar to someone he'd seen in a similar situation long ago, half-dead and needing him. His heart throbbed with the pain of the memories - he hadn't been able to help her then...at least he could help Zamir now, but it did nothing mo make his heart ache for the past any less.

Once his little friend had some food inside him and had spilled his story he looked much more relaxed and even managed to wag his tail and perk his ears hopefully - quite a feat considering half of the left one no longer existed. "But see, Young Wolf, now I am with you! My pack is gone, and now I may join this one, if their alpha is kind enough to allow me to. I am so very excited to meet them!" How quickly he was able to be grateful for his situation, another similarity between those who had the forest-green eyes.

"Once we get you better fed and your wounds are properly healed I'll take you to see Alphess Blaise and we'll see if she'll have you. I think though after hearing your story she'll have no objections, I don't know the alphess to have it in her to turn away a cub." he tried to answer carefully so as not to give Zamir too much hope, yet he himself was hopeful his new teacher wouldn't mind his interest in this little stranger. Was it overstepping his bounds to try to take in a new member of the pack? Time would tell, once Zamir got back on his feet and could pass for decently healthy he'd bring it up to her - if she didn't take well to the idea, the least he could do was send Zamir off with a full belly and enough strength to hold his own until he found a guardian.

Seeing as how talking had helped him to relax he kept the conversation going. "'Zamir', I don't recall hearing of an incident like that which you described to me in the Valley recently, and your name doesn't come from any legend I know. Tell me more about where you're from and your name, I'd like to hear about what it means." Admittedly he actually didn't know many stories of the Valley even though his family had called the Mountain their home for several generations, but it was a start and if it would help Zamir feel more comfortable in his new surroundings as he healed then so be it.

[Deleted]

Zamir tilts his head to the side curiously, giving Epsilon a respectful amount of eye-contact as the wolf speaks to him. He looks away in thought, taking a small bite and chewing it as he does so, humming to himself. Finally he swallows and then he smiles up at the wolf. "You see, Young Wolf, my name means 'singer' or 'to sing'. My mother convinced my father that she meant it for the name of a person from a bad legend, but it was from a different legend. The one she made Father think it was from was to teach us pups not to lie. As the name means to 'sing' it was metaphorical for 'lying'. I do not remember the legend well, Young Wolf. I apologize. But I do remember the other legend—the one that I was truly named after. It is quite sad, though." He pauses to get another bite of the rabbit, then licking his muzzle clean and yawning before continuing.

"This is how the legend goes.
There was a nameless wolf who was born with a twisted, punctured throat. When he spoke, all that came out were wheezing, whistled words, not any that those in his pack could understand. He was the lowest ranking wolf in the pack he belonged to, and after a lifetime of being bullied by those around him, he finally left one night after the pack fell asleep after a large hunt. He became a scavenger, mostly just eating off of other wolves' leftover meals and stealing from smaller animals. However, one day in winter, he saw a beautiful male wolf and instantly fell in love with him. The nameless wolf approached the male and they could smell on each other their connection. The first joined his partner's pack and they loved a love so pure, it was a thing of dreams. But one night, as all legends go, a massive earthquake took the whistling wolf's mate from him. And the male, with the twisted, punctured throat, climbed the tallest mountain he could find and lifted his head to the sky. A mournful song, so beautiful it made the sky cry, left the wolf's throat and took his soul with it, where he again met his lover. They called him Zamir, for singer, because despite his deformity, his song could never be forgotten."

He stops speaking, having started to stare off into the distance as if he were not just a yearling but instead hundreds of years old, maybe even the Zamir that poured his love out in one final howl. "Oh! But you wanted to know where my pack is—was—right? It is waaaay deep in the mountains, on the edge of the valley. There are a lot of insane wolves out there and my mother told me never to leave the camp in the night or one of them might get me."

[Fierfly]

Epsilon:

Zamir was actually a bright, eager, sociable little fella when he wasn't scared for his life. Underneath the stutter was a pleasantly calm and friendly voice and an undeniable intelligence and certainty regarding that which he spoke of. "Blind, proud, stupid brute," Epsilon again mentally cursed Zamir's sire for disregarding his son so and for practically sacrificing his entire pack to quell his own anguish. It had only landed with nearly all of them dead and now Zamir was wounded and quite noticeably missing an ear. Oh well - it had brought the little stranger to him, and to that Epsilon had no objection.

The story concluded and he was about to comment when Zamir began again and said his packlands had been "waaaay" deep in the mountains with insane wolves. The valley had mountains on all sides, but generally the west side of the valley was what was actually referred to as the mountains. He'd come from the west? That was clear across the Valley! Or...maybe Zamir had come from the north - he'd heard stories of an insane murderer pack somewhere up north, perhaps they were known on the outside as well. Whatever the case he'd come a long way.

"I've never heard that story before," he mused, half aloud. It was sounding more and more likely that Zamir was from the north - hadn't he heard someplace that the packs up there had rich stories and strict codes of conduct more rigid than most Valley packs? That sounded about right - of course pretty much all he heard were rumors thanks to his stubbornness about mingling with his pack-mates (he made a mental note to change that so he could keep better up to date on the Valley), but give or take some credibility, it all sounded logical enough.

He kept the conversation up, may as well practice now and talking seemed to calm Zamir. "I have heard a sort of version of it or at least a different legend about a similar story. It's pretty sad too," he wasn't sure whether to scoff or smile at how so many legends appeared to be sad. He nearly launched into it when he considered the details he remembered again and thought better of it - Zamir's father had been a pettish tyrant, but it sounded as though his mother loved him and this version of the story might bring him some more grief. "Know any not-so-sad stories?" the more he understood how Zamir had been brought up the more he could try to correct the hurt that had befallen him.