Ooc: Anyone(s) can come <33 ((Although I would love Simon and him to meet, I think Kahl would really like Simon)) and, btw, if you dont know Kahl -- He is not a puppy, he is almost two years old, but he is... held back mentally. And to anyone that joins I would like that they did not see his heroic (lol) jump because then it will be funnier xDD unless you want to see it, and laugh at him, which I totally understand.

A small yellow butterfly floated slowly on a loft of wind, its tiny wings fluttering in slow motion as it pushed onwards. Butterflies had all traveled south just a few weeks ago, all together and all in this fury of wings and curved antennae beating against each other in a mad rush to head south before the cold weather set in and froze their little bodies into a popsicle. This one missed that train, and the days where colder now so it found it hard to go much faster then a leaf in the wind, being pushed and tossed by a fall breeze that took no mercy upon anyone, even a innocent, angelic butterfly. This one would die soon, as tomorrow would be profoundly colder and the next day even colder then that. And besides, the wind was pushing it north, not south.

None of this meant anything to Kahl, of course, he was just ecstatic to see a butterfly after that wonderful day when they all left at the same time. He had jumped and frocked with them, careful not to eat them or step on them, but he found it hard to jump and frolic without bumping into a few, or whacking a couple right out of the air with his wild tail. He did all of this under the ever watchful eye of his sister, Gossamer, and would, every now and then, look back at her with his bright eyes, tongue hanging half way out and to the side, and tail waving at a speedy pace, with butterflies all around him, all fluttering in the same direction. It was a pretty picture, if I can say so myself, that fit Kahl very well, for he was like a butterfly; He meant no harm, he would be fine if you just let him flutter on his way.

Kahl had, somehow, sneaked away from Gossamer yet again. He was getting better and better at it, and no matter what others think, Kahl was smart, in his own way. He had taught himself to know when Gossamer was hardly reallllly watching him, or to, dare I say, lie to her and then sneak off, and upon her finding him he would tell her that he had forgotten, he would not do it again, and he was sorry. Then, surely enough, once he was alone again off he would go, and then tell her, yet again, that he had forgotten. This meant that she started to not leave him home alone as much, as it seemed that, oh my, Gossy was smart like that too, and probably knew what was going on. Kahl could hardly help it though, he got so bored so quickly and so easily and he got sidetracked and then followed something away; like he did today as that butterfly had passed his den as he chewed on a deer leg (with still scraps of meat on it, his total favorite!) and he jumped up and followed it all the way into the forest, where he had been a few times but was already turned around and not sure which way was home, so he just kept following the butterfly northward.

”Buuuuteeerrrr come baacck!” Kahl said, slightly aggressively, as he sped off towards the little flying bug; it had been caught on a rough updraft and no choice but to go with it, so now it was ten feet in the air, much too far for Kahl’s enjoyment. ”You get down here THIS INSTANT!” He used a line he had heard others say, hoping that the butterfly would obey like a good buggie and land sweetly on his nose. Of course, it didn’t.

Putting his ears plastered to his head he ran forward again, so this time he was ahead of the bug, and tensed, bringing his head downwards and his tail stopped moving (for once). Then he leaped into the air, five, six, no seven feet his jaws where from the ground, but still too far from the bug, and he came down in a rush of fur and long brown legs. With a pronounced Humfh he hit the ground, all the air was forced from his lungs as gravity squeezed it tightly against the ground. He tried to take a deep breath in, but only got one fourth of the way before it hurt, and let it all out, then did that again and again, sounding like some sad, dying animal. Just as quickly though he took in a full breath and was totally fine, and in a very Kahl like way stood up, shook, and acted as if he had not just had a lung spaz attack.

His brown ears came back once again and his brow ruffled as he watched the butterfly go northward, and uttered a little, ”Fine. then turned around and took a step in the other direction. That was when he realized his paw hurt, bad. Front and left. Quickly he lifted it up again, reliving the pressure that was just on it, and emitted a small whine as his eyes watered. Oh no, he thought, the butterfly attacked me and hurt my leg! Stumbling forward, left paw high in the air (dramatically so) he took a few limping steps forward before stopping and sitting down. What was he to do, what was he to do. Gossamer was gone, he was supposed to stay in the den, he had said he would. Maybe another Kiskana wolf would come and save him! That Aspen was a pretty female…

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<b>OOC:</b>
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Yeah, I wanted to get Simon in a thread with Kahl (and Goss sometime) too because I think they would hit it off. So cute!
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It took Simon a month or so to assure himself that Kiskana territory was, in fact, out of Macabre's reach. Momentarily, yes... but at least he had time to heal. His shoulder still throbbed with each stepp but now it was dull, a heightened sense of pressure but no pain. Good, infection wouldn't take the use of his limb. Or his life.
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As the male loped steadily down a soil-strewn slope, he caught the sweet smell of meat in patches of grass interspersed with the scent of another wolf. A female whom Simon didn't know, and that was fine as long as the female wasn't Tyjiik or Mordechai. This female seemed to either have just eaten or had carried a chunk of meat with her. The scent trail took Simon's mind off his mother and his shoulder, so he followe it eagerly.
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As he neared the location of the scent, Simon's quickened pace gave way to a slight rocking that betrayed his injury. He pushed quickly off his left foreleg and allowed more weight to linger on his right side, giving him a slightly uneven stride. Descending to a smearspot on the path, something long and pinkish-white caught Simon's eye. Something with strips of brown and red shreds.
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<i>Aha.</i>
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Smiling to himself at this discovery, the mellow caretaker padded over to the bone and ran his quivering nostrils along its length. Saliva and gnaw marks still lingered fresh... so had another wolf claimed this? A male it seemed from the scheme of things. Well, he'd stripped the bone of half its meat and appeared to have abandoned it. Fresh prints led away from the den but he didn't hear the wolf anywhere nearby. Well, maybe he'd adopt the bone and if the wolf wanted it back, then it could have it. Some company would be nice anyway.
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Taking the deer leg in his jaws, Simon easily hoisted his prize and followed the other wolf's trail. The tangy flavor of deer meat made saliva well in his mouth. The afternoon sunlight reflected from the liquid as it ran slick along his gums and teeth, making them gleam. Lately, the sun lacked any warmth. Simon wasn't looking forward to this winter. He paused as a thin voice caught his attention from somewhere close by. It sounded young.
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<i>Butter?</i>
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Who was Butter? And who wanted them down this instant? Simon trotted faster as the male's scent grew stronger, still in Kiskana territory. From over a small hill, he heard a whine. Pups?? Oh how he hoped! Pace increased into long, smooth strides and the bone swung a little in his grip. As he came to the top of the hill, backlit by the sun, a fluttery yellow thing drifted on the breeze in front of his face. A leaf? Oh, no. Butterfly.
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The silvery male smiled warmly at the butterfly and continued down the slope where he saw the male. The first thing he noticed was that the other wolf was alone... talking to himself? Who? Then he saw the flattened ears and the excessive favoring of his left foreleg. Hurt? Well, good thing Simon was a caretaker!
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<b>"Did you hurt yourself?"</b>
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Duh. What kind of question was that?
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He held up his paw, close his jaws, and let his pink tounge linger out and rasp against it, letting his saliva dampen the limp as he continued to lick it. In all reality it was just sprained, but in most cases sprains can be worse then breaks. Of course, Kahl was hardly hurt at all, and given a few minutes and maybe a few extra licks he would be on it again, it would be stiff and sore but fine by all standards. He was so busy with his 'owwie' that he did not hear nor smell nor see the wolf as he approached the young one.

Upon the spoken words Kahl tensed up, looking slowly from his paw to the face of the one who had come upon him. It was then that, surely, Simon would see something wrong; if he had not smelt it already (as Kahl did not smell like a true wolf, he had a tang to his scent, something different, something... strange). 'Be careful around strangers, Kahl,' Gossamer had said a million times. She had never told him to NOT meet new wolves, to run away from everyone. But she had said to be careful...

Then again who would hurt Kahl? Surely, thought the wolf, no one would hurt another! He was naive to the real world, for he would never think that anyone would actually hurt him. Thus the reason he had spoken to just about every wolf he had ever met, even when his sisters told him to stay quiet. And the wolf looked very kind, Kahl usually had a good sense of wolves and their personality, and Simon looked like a kind soul. That sealed the deal and he smiled at the male.

"No. That butterfly bit it." Of course, Kahl used to never talk to males, but lately, yet another trait and showed up; he is starting to be ok with them. Since everything that has happened in his life he had just learned to accept them; besides, this male was rather feminine, if Kahl could say so himself. "I was just wanting to play and it was teasing me. And it attacked me."

His ears came back at this, as if very angry at that butterfly. He watched the male and then his eyes drifted towards his shoulder, and he took in a big, dramatic breath. "Oh no! That butter must'a gotten you too!!"

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Simon watched the other male frantically lick his paw and padded a little closer, nostrils quivering. Odd, he didn't catch any coppery trace of blood or irregular deformity that might've suggested a fracture. But he caught a different scent, something unusual. This male smelled like a wolf, no doubt, but like he was missing something. A piece of the puzzle. A half wolf.
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<i>What?</i>
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When the wolf's eyes flickered quickly to Simon and paused, the latter froze and tensed as though expecting an attack. Ears splayed out like airplane wings, uncertain. Then relief flooded Simon when the other male smiled at him and spoke.
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<i>"No. That butterfly bit it. I was just wanting to play and it was teasing me. And it attacked me."</i>
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Forgetting his caution, Simon moved closer and frowned in a puzzled manner. A butterfly bit him? He didn't know that those papery kites could bite. Half the time he didn't even feel them unless they lit on his sensitive nose. Maybe this guy mistook a hornet or an ant for that pretty yellow butterfly. Well, that would take a big stretch of imagination.
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Simon chuckled at the wolf's flattened ears that gave him an air of irritated discomfort. Like a cat with wet paws or something. But soon the wolf's quiet frown smoothed out as its eyes traveled up to Simon's shoulder. To where the lush silvery-white fur parted like the red sea, and he could see the healing wound at the bottom of the dark crevasse. Feverish red streaks laced the wound's pale white tissue. By now, he could walk fine but to run meant cutting his speed in half. He practically hobbled without running on three legs, and even that took away from his speed. <i>Damn her.</i>
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<b>"No, that's from my mother. She lives on the other side of the river. She got mad at me and attacked me, so I ran back here to Kiskana with my friend Chaim."</b>
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No need to sugarcoat the truth. This guy needed to be warned about Macabre so he could avoid crossing the river into death's hands. Speaking of wandering, Simon didn't know this male. He smelled different, but he also had a twinge of a familiar, slightly disturbing locale. Simon couldn't place it at the moment.
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<b>"I'm Simon. Are you new to Kiskana?"</b>
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Kahl liked it when the male laughed, not noticing that Simon was laughing at him. Sure, it was kind laugh, not that Simon was making fun of him or anything, more like finding it funny that Kahl now hated that butterfly because it ‘bit’ him. Brown eyes that matched his fur watched the other male, taking note of his face, his kind eyes, his silvery fur, his injured shoulder, and put it in his directly of wolves that had had stored in his head. Most wolves, once put there, were, for the better part, forgotten if not seen within the next month. He and Simon where, however, in the same pack, and so there was a good chance that he would see the elder male at least once a month, if not once a week. And if they hit it off, Kahl would start to seek out the male, so much so that the wolf will probably get so sick of the mentally retarded male that he might avoid him! Of course, who knows what will happen, but that’s one scenario.

Kahl was shocked, to put it kindly, that Simon thought his mother did that. A mother would never hurt her son! Kahl knew this for a fact! His mother had never, ever hurt him, even when he probably deserved it, even when he got so annoying that he should have been shoved on the ground and told to stop it. His mother loved him, every mother loved her son, and so Simon must be mistaken. A mother would never ever hurt her own son! His ears went back, his eyes got very very confused, and he looked from left, to right, to left again, back and fourth, back and fourth, as he did when he got confused. But Simon sounded as if he was telling the truth, which scared Kahl. Had his mother truly hurt her son?

”Why would she do such a thing?” he asked innocently, not understanding one bit. What had Simon done wrong to permit his mother to hurt him? Had he, himself, hurt her first? The truth was something that Kahl would never, could never understand, that she hated him. That his own mother, in a strange way, hated him. Simon could tell the truth, and might find Kahl even more confused, or he could lie a pleasant little lie and put Kahl at ease. Either way, Simon would have to find a way to explain something very complicated to a very uncomplicated wolf.

Then Simon asked if he was new to Kiskana, and it took a moment to remember what in the world a Kiskana was, but he remembered soon enough to answer. ”Yes! Me and my sister, we came here together. I snuck away from her,” he leaned down at that last part, almost whispering it, and took a quick look around, looking for his blackened sister. ”She dont know I am gone yet, but she always finds me sooner or later. We came here together, we did. But we left my other sister,” here, he got confused, as he did every time Riley came in his head. Why had they left her? Why had she not come back to Kahl? Oh, how Kahl missed her, he missed her pretty eyes and soft fur and calming scent. He wanted to sleep between her and Gossamer once more, just like before, and could not understand why that had all been taken away from him.

”Have you seen Riley?” Kahl asked, brightening at the prospect that this male had indeed seen his sister and could tell him which way to travel so Kahl could see her again. Simon probably did not know Riley, though, and so could not know if he had seen her, near or far.

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Simon noticed the darker male take on a very alarming stance. His ears flattened, eyes widened, and his murky eyes flicked to and fro as though Macabre lurked nearby. No, Simon's mother was nowhere near... hopefully. Didn't he just mention that? Well, there was nothing wrong with staying on the defense. It kept a wolf alive.
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<i>”Why would she do such a thing?”</i>
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Why? Simon repressed the urge to spit out <i>because she's a psychotic bitch</i> and instead shook his head. The matter made him bitter because the memory still stung. He sighed gently and looked back to the male before him. It seemed as though this guy hadn't been exposed to the brutal reality of life. As a pup, the world appeared warm, welcoming, wonderful. Then the pup would encounter strife, pain, failure, grief.
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The world would never be sweet. It was never gentle or forgiving. At this point in time, Simon considered the world a cruel place that offered no quarter. Nature didn't sway either way, cruel or kind. Nature had no heart or conscience. Nature was nature, and that was all.
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<b>"She was mean to me so I tried to sneak back over here. When she caught me trying to run away, she attacked me but I got away."</b>
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Silver ears perked at the young male's mention of his sister, one from whom he apparently escaped. Simon assumed that she was nearby from the way the other male glanced furtively around. So she would find him eventually. His sister was his guardian so did that mean she was protective? Would she become aggressive if she found the two wolves talking?
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<i>"But we left my other sister. Have you seen Riley?”</i>
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Riley. The name sounded familiar, something from Tyjiik. Simon couldn't quite place a finger on it. He lowered his chin and gazed at Kahl curiously. Two sisters, never seen before in Kiskana. Who was this guy and where was he from?
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<b>"I haven't seen anyone today. Who are you, and who are your sisters?"</b>
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