Searching

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His coat burned under the raging blaze of the sun. He never thought he would find himself back in this wretched land all over again. The sun-scorched brute had fled this land for a reason. That he would find himself back here during a time of drought seemed like terrible irony. He had rejected his birthplace and now his birthplace rejected him. Yet, now he returned as if fate would see him back. Perhaps his destiny was tied to this place. The land of his birth, and perhaps also, the land of his death. No matter how far he ran, the world drew him back. Punishment, perhaps, for his cowardly ways or the life he took. Pale blond eyes trailed upwards to level the sun with a apathetic hopelessness. "That you would drag me back. Have I not suffered enough." His inquiry hung answered in the air, directed at some lost ghost of his past.

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The flame-coated brute's tail drooped. His coat had been said to have been blessed with flames. Now it seemed like nothing but the opposite. With each step, it seemed as if the very land itself drained him of energy. He had walked this path before. Back then, he had been running with the intention of never returning. Now, dry grasses crunched under his step, dust clouds rising in answer. Reminders of a dying land. His pale blond eyes trailed across the land. All that reflected was earth shrouded in a shimmering haze from the heat. If memory served, there was a lake nearby. Hopefully, it would give him reprise from his ill fate. He could only hope that whatever awaited him at the end of his journey would be worth all the pain.

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Cresting the rise, Helios barked out a short, bitter laugh. All that remained of his salvation could not even be called a pond. A few creatures gathered desolately around it as if in mourning. Of course the land would not help him. The one time it had was when he had left it. Now it presented him with this worthless consolation prize. His gaze followed the deer's as they peered at the approach of a new figure, one he knew. His leader and Lord of the Mercurior, Timber, was making her way to the dirt spot that remained. The animals did not flee at her approach, choosing to stand their ground. They were all equal in their despair as it was. It would have made for an easy meal if it wasn't so sad.

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"Hail, Timber," Xato called out in greeting as he slide down the sides of the bowl. At his voice, some of the creatures chose to scatter. The deer seemed to decide that two wolves was too many. They fled, but chose to remain at the edge of the hollow. The crimson brute watched their emancipated forms go with pity in his golden eyes. Fear sent them away, but desperation kept them close. Risking death for a small chance at life. He understood that feeling well. He had been privy to it much of his life. A moment of weakness breaking his usual blizzard.

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The fiery brute regained his composure as he faced the Lord. He had kept his distance as always. Dipping his head in a respectful greeting, he began to speak, "The land is in poor health." He had stated the obvious deciding that inquiring on the fae's health was redundant. Few were doing well in the present conditions. The Cause's own coat was dull and lifeless. His eyes lacked a key spark and each step he took was heavy with fatigue. Though not all of his symptoms were due entirely to the weather.

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Timber's words could not be more true. The fae was right. They were all in poor health. His deadened gaze trailed towards the small pool of water. Fins broke the surface, swimming circles in their watery grave. An exercise in futility. No matter what the fish tried, they were destined to end up fried without a single chance of salvation as long as things continued the way they were. Helios' ears flicked at the Lord's words. He had never wished to come here. That was one thing he had made starkly clear. It was far too late for regrets now though. They were here. One stray fish launched from the water landing with a splash at the Lord's paws. They had to break the cycle for a chance at hope. The fish was pushed back into the water. But that chance would not be obtained by them.

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Xato's ebony gaze fell back on Timber. That the fae could find hope in such a hopeless situation was admirable. His experience with the local packs told him things may not turn out as well as the Lord hoped. The Sanzin and the Au'Dar were more likely to see the act as a threat more than anything. Blackmail to keep the packs in line as the Mercurior trapezed around their lands. He knew firsthand the cruelty of the Sanzin. The Vertok were kind though and were not likely to see it the same. "The local packs may not take kindly to such actions." He had to speak carefully here, to avoid his past being known. "They may see it as us withholding the water unless they comply with our demands."

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He paused, thinking over his next words carefully, speaking slowly, with care, "It may be better if we get to know our would-be neighbors first, before taking any action that may incriminate us." The sun-kissed brute feared he had already said too much. It was possible he had said enough to clue in on some hint to his past. His past was a scar, a burn, on his pelt that hurt every time it was touched upon. He'd turned his back on it, ran from it, in the hopes that it would never catch up to him. Helios feared to face it, what had happened back then. He'd done everything he could to escape it. Leaving the lands. Discarding his old name of Helios. Burying the memories deep in the back of his mind. Yet it still came for him. But he wasn't Helios anymore. He was Xato. Xato had no such past here. Here, Xato was nothing more than a stranger. Still, his gaze straggled onto Timber's, wondering if she had caught on to anything.

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It seemed Timber had found nothing bizarre from his words. Xato breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the thought. He had no desire to be associated with this land and the vile wolves that inhabited it. Despite his attempts to quit his past, he still ended up clinging to it in small ways. Ever now and then he caught himself thinking of himself as Helios. He had crafted Xato to be apart from Helios and yet, he had not found himself as wholly one or the other. And now he wavered yet again, thinking of his time as Helios rather than forgetting it entirely. Much as he wished to forget it all, he could not. His experiences as Helios were needed now.

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"From what I have heard during my canvases of this land," it was a lie. He had done little wandering once he had arrived. The flame-beholden brute had chosen to bed down in an area he knew few wolves, pack wolves especially, usually wandered. Xato had spent his time surreptitiously avoiding any and all pack wolves. His knowledge of the land originated from his time inhabiting it. "The pack residing in the mountains are most likely to be receptive of our presence." As he spoke, he turned his head towards those very mountains. "They are known as a warm and welcoming pack to any who arrive at their borders. Except..." He returned his ebony gaze to Timber, not entirely sure he should say any more. "I have heard they hold quarrel with the pack inhabiting the plains. At this, Xato fell silent. He had the sense he was saying too much. There was so much more he could say, warn against, about the Vertok and the Sanzin and the mysterious Au'Dar. But he held his tongue, wary of having his origin uncovered.

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Wary, he flicked his tail and turned his body slightly away from the Lord, hiding his face. Frustrated, he stamped his front paw and flicked his ears again. The sun-kissed brute grappled with his desire not to say any more about his one-time home and his duty to protect his guild. He couldn't live with himself though if his selfish desires to keep silent caused his guildmates harm. With his face turned away from his Lord and his teeth clenched, he almost growled out, "It would be best to avoid the plains pack and the forest pack. The pack inhabiting the plains is cruel to both others and their own. The pack living in the forest does not take kindly to strangers." Xato's tail dropped. The vermillion Cause wished so badly to turn and run at this moment. Speaking of the land had brought his past into stark focus. He wanted to run and leave this land that he loathed so. But his responsibility to his guild and his lord kept him here, rooted in place as his old haunts crept up behind him.

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Timber was right. As immoral as it seemed, the guild thrived on conflict. A land rift with conflict and war was the perfect place for the guild members to gain work. Ironically, the pack Xato so despised provided the perfect land with which his guild could thrive in. As long as they could deal with them safely that is. Their guild members were likely to get run off or injured if they tried to contract with the Sanzin as is. They had to establish their place first to allow for relatively safe communications. Even though he knew this, the thought of working with the Sanzin in any capacity brought no end of revulsion. He could not abide a pack so twisted.

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The sun-drenched brute's ears fell back as his Lord voiced her question. He was not one to talk of himself. Despite his many years in the guild, few of the members knew much of anything about him. Golden eyes turned away, his voice came out rough and oddly polite, "I'm fine. It's just the weather getting to me. I assure you." It was an obvious lie, one he made a poor attempt at hiding. Despite the concern backing his Lord's words, he had closed himself off. His words asked for no more questions. This was a topic he wanted nothing to do with. It touched on what he hid and what he hated about himself. Despite how long he had known Timber, he still wished to speak nothing about himself.

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Barely leaving the smallest pause, the fiery Cause moved on, "We should make contact with the leaders of the mountain pack as soon as possible to avoid any misunderstandings about the presence of our guild in these lands." It was too obvious he wanted to change the topic. He wanted Timber to do the same, to go along with his ill behavior and desperation. The more he lingered on his past, the more it hurt. He couldn't afford to make contact with any Sanzin members, but Vertok was fine. No one knew him there. He could be Xato through and through. Or so he hoped.

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Unknowingly, he had been holding his breath in the hopes that Timber wouldn't address his distress any further. When he heard her express agreement with his suggestion, that breath was released as he relaxed. Xato didn't know if she had done so out of respect for his wishes or simply because he had not allowed the topic to linger, but he mentally expressed his thanks nonetheless. Saying it in his mind meant nothing though as Timber couldn't hear it. Perhaps, one day, he'd be able to say it outload.

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As his Lord walked off, Xato followed after at a distance. His eyes trailed after the tried back of his Lord. Even as the Cause, he could only do so much to support her. To hold the weight of a pack on one's back was a heavy burden. To do it well was even harder. They could at least give thanks that their guild was peaceful. But that peace was weighted against the difficult nature of their guild. They could not protect their members as easily as if it were a normal pack. The guild allowed one to live without the suffocating rule of the pack, but it also meant one had to live without the pack's assistance as well. How to protect the Guild's members without infringing on their rights. It was a difficult issue for their Lord to handle.

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The sun-drenched brute nodded, relieved to know Timber was in agreement. "I suspect they will be willing to hear us out and help us as well. If they allow us safe harbor, we may be allowed to rally any guild members seeking refuge in their territory for a short while." They all needed a break from the weather and the constant danger that loomed over a guild with no stable land. If they could not secure a right to inhabit theses lands, they would have to leave. With the damage the drought had done to their members, the Cause was unsure they would all make it.

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