HELL IS EMPTY, ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE The sun painted the eastern sky in a deep, pale light. It bled into the indigo dome, obliterating the stars from sight. The night's chilly, desert air seemed to hit a vacuum as it left little by precious little. More light, more heat. But none of that seemed bothered the figure sitting amongst an outcropping of redrock boulders. The perch was half buried, the sand brushing along the flatter areas of stone as a light breeze picked the bits and ushered them into movement. His tail swept to and fro in a lazy, half-conscious manner; fanning the sand from behind him in a soothing movement. His entire stature screamed poise; conditioned and pounded in his daily regiment from the get go. But his eyes, stormy and serious, remained impassive as an ocean's murky depths. It seemed he'd been pondering the distance, that the thought of a could-be future neither enticed him, nor deterred him; that perhaps it would have been better to die. He still felt hunted, watched, paranoid. But all of those emotions, no matter how troublesome or alarming, were typical in his day to day routine. When life had decided it would turn itself upside down, when it imploded in a nightmare of cries, terror, and grief, Halloran had become...this thing he no longer recognized. You left, like you said you would. All they had to do was ask, afterall. It had been simple. Easy. A relief. And, yet, regret laced every cell of his heart. Removed and plagued by a fog he can't seem to rid from his mind, he forgets how long he's been sitting here in this littered landscape. That slight breeze, feeling more like a phantom tug at the fur around the base of his ears, becomes irritating; tickling the fine hairs and making them twitch as he watches the soon to be sweltering desert and all its wallowing waste. He'd sat there, drawn up, shoulders hunched a little in order to fend off the exhaustion that begged him to slouch, bleeding from various wounds he'd acquired in the past few days; a band of rogues not far from this larger territory. A bite on the left side of his neck, a tear in his left shoulder, the ear a little torn on that side as well, and now this lovely specimen screaming pain from his right paw. So out of sorts, was he, that he hadn't even noticed the twinge as he walked until it had become unbearable to travel any further. For a place that was to begin this new chapter in his life, it really was quite awful. Though, he supposes, eyeing the glass embedded in his paw with disinterest, how the blood welled around the shard, that there was a certain beauty to dying here. For that was what he was surely doing: dying. He knew too much of survival and the unkindness of life to think he was doing anything else. There was a certain delirium, a lost account of the time, the place...how the hell I got here. The melancholy he had nursed since departing from the only way of life he'd ever known, for regrets he couldn't rid himself of, doesn't pin him down and hold him captive. Looking at him, one can sense of piece or two of him is missing; that there is something off about the focus of his gaze. He wonders, given the apparent scents around the place, his nose twitching, brain just barely processing on instinct, if anyone frequents this miserable stretch of land. The summer was going to be a hot one, and not for the first time, Halloran, desperate to see the faces he left behind, steels himself in looking back. It'll do him no good. No good at all. He turns his head down, bending and bringing his bleeding paw up, to gnaw at the glass embedded there; to get it out before he's too tired to do so. His left leg wobbles a little, the muscles fatigued from travel and wear; his bleeding shoulder protesting as he forces it to take his weight in order to get the glass out. A fine mess you've gotten yourself into. Finding a place to rest wasn't a bad idea either, but the notion rattled around in his head; aimless and indifferent. He deserved his wounds, the state he was in because of his carelessness, his lonesomeness...his failures...he deserved whatever was dealt to him for what he's done. The glass gives a little, sliding through his skin, and a wince pinches the corners of his eyes, makes him drag in a rough breath as he spits out what blood has accumulated on his tongue. As he sits there, the sun rising higher, the growing heat warming the land, he continues to try and pick the glass out of his paw, and wonders if he'll just have to limp his way out of this place towards the horizon... "speak"

Faite had to admit she'd never spent too much time in the desert. It was unnaturally hot and the sun bit past her dark fur and made her feel like she was baking. When she'd been on her own she'd remained in the east for a while and had been unable to get home. The crisp mountain air had been a refreshing change for her at the time and had even done some justice to her lungs. The plains she now resided in had proven to be a little less hot and a lot better in terms of being able to cool off. Everything at least was a lot more green than the desert. All of these things were why she hadn't really explored the place too much. Unfortunately for her she'd made the mistake of coming through Deadman's Scrap to try and find the quickest way home. She'd spent a fair amount of time in the east, accumulated a few bruises and whatnot to boast about, and now she wanted nothing more than to be back home with her family in the plains. Sadly her journey from the north had left her at a loss as where exactly go and what would take less time. In the end she'd decided for a shortcut through the desert and she realized that had been a mistake on her part. She'd risen just as the sun slowly began to snake its way over the horizon and paint the sky a pretty myriad of colors. She was a bit achy and rather sore from her long journey through the many lands the north had to offer, but overall she was quite pleased with the outcome. She'd learned a lot, saw things she'd never seen before, and she felt all the wiser for it. It was just one more story to tell for her youngest siblings when she returned. The sun had steadily begun to rise and with it came the awful heat that she couldn't shake. What was worse this terrain proved to be rather difficult in terms of everything littering the ground. Shiny bits of glass could be seen glittering in their hiding spots from time to time and that wasn't even mentioning the rocks and other things. By the time she was a good way into the landscape her pawpads already felt like they were on fire. She'd traveled for a little while longer and finally decided to take a rest. She noticed a rather nice rocky out cropping where she could perhaps get a nice view of things and rest her paws. To her surprise a pale figure was already sitting up their. He looked so regal from his own seat and she noted how formal his posture seemed. He dual-toned eyes would search his body and the easily fell on the noticeable wounds that she could see from here. She could also smell blood which worried her slightly. Even though he was a stranger, she cared enough to check on him. So she approached with only the slightest bit of wariness. "Are you alright?" She'd call out softly to him. Walk, "Talk" Think

HELL IS EMPTY, ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE When he was very young, Halloran had stumbled onto a vicious ant pile; one of the few memories he has remaining of his father before his death. They'd been roaming the spine of the mountains above their seaside home on a week-long trip. It had been to test his drive, his stamina, his lungs at such a young age; having been born in the Autumn when a wolf's health was often improving from the summer heat. Halloran recalls setting after an odd looking trail out of curiosity, to see where they were all headed back to. This particular highway of critters led him to hold in the ground where they disappeared. Naturally, being the inquisitive child that he was, Halloran attempted to cover the hole a few times. He watched the ants climb over his paw in alarm and then around it. When he lifted his paw, the ant had calmed itself, and went on as if its home's entrance had never disappeared. In and out, they went, and Halloran watched, getting a feel for this small system of workers until he couldn't take it anymore. Needless to say, his digging up the earth, enlarging the hole the ants disappeared into, had not been his brightest idea, and his father had laughed when, reluctantly, Halloran had to let him toss him in the river that served as their water source in the winter. Bites covered his little body, and he'd adopted a special grudge for the little bugs that bit without mercy. He'd walked all the way home with those pussy sores on his body; learning how to curb his complaints in the face of his pain. But his father had turned that mistake of his into something as well, words that he didn't often live by, but still held dear. What one would do to protect its home. Its family. Its friends. There is wisdom in discovery, but there's also beauty in being naive, and you son, are not beautiful right now. It is with the ghost of his father's chuckling, a memory he hadn't revisited in a while, that she arrives from the heat-scorched land beyond him, and Halloran knows he is applying that day to this one; having caused no stir in a place he knows nothing about, and hurting for it. The sharp tang of his own blood still coats his tongue, and while he drags his stormy gaze to her, Halloran cannot help but wonder if she is a figment of his imagination; a mirage drudged up from the bowels of his beleaguered mind and heart. It would be convenient for him to miss the company of others and conjure the company of one who didn't really exist. Had he been more aware of himself, he would not have lingered so long when he saw her eyes; transfixing and unique in their colors. All water and verdant shades. Everything this land was lacking appeared in her gaze. Of course, in his travels, he was no stranger to the dual tones eyes could often take, but here, in this wasteland he'd found himself in, it was perhaps the most refreshing thing he'd laid eyes on in a month. Caught holding his injured paw aloft, Halloran gives a slow, stiff shrug, face twisted in a smile that resembles a grimace more than anything else. "How rhetorical of you," He utters quietly and manages a slight nod, curious for this she-wolf who resembles the wading hours between afternoon and night; an evening specter in the birth of a new day. Would I ask myself if I were alright? If she was a figment of his imagination, would he make himself come to terms with his sorry state? What was it that he had to prove to himself, right now, that his subconscious might be trying to draw out? His left leg shakes, and Halloran's attention is drawn away from her; his head drooping a bit from that poise he'd endeavored to hold onto as he struggles to keep himself upright. Loath to show vulnerability before this stranger, real or not, he finds his mouth open, panting as his body flushes with heat and his wounds burn. Giving his head a slight shake to clear it of the fog still clinging to his thoughts, Halloran peers up at her from that slouched position of his, nose just a little closer to the glass stuck in his paw. "I don't suppose you're some kind of healer extraordinaire?" Voice rough, but ironic, he eyes her angular face with a slight twinkle in his eyes. I don't know how else to make fun of myself. It was truly ridiculous that he had ended up the way he had; that spat with a few rogues had been a reckless move, and a dangerous one, at that, once he'd lost himself in this place. A sound catches and makes his ears twitch, and he looks back down at his paw; brow furrowing with all the clinical concern one would harbor from a hard life at the sight of his blood dripping onto the desert floor below him. As if to indicate his earlier statement, he lifts his eyes once more to look at her expectantly, and, for the first time since her arrival, hopes she is real in all the ways one can be. ""

The male's gaze would shift to her own and she's stare back at him fearless and unafraid. She'd peer at what seemed to be stormy gray eyes and she'd glance at the very similar colored fur that covered him. He looked a little worse for wear right now but she had no doubt that, one cleaned up, he was quite handsome in appearance. He seemed regal and dignified and that in itself was an attractive feature in a male. It was silent for a moment before words so graciously slipped from his maw. How rhetorical of you. He'd answer her and had she been a lesser creature she might have taken offense to those words. There were times when it was easy to rile the young female, but then there were times where she had an undying patience. She had no desire to have this male on her bad side and she sensed no ill intent with his words so she only smiled softly at him in response to his words. She supposed it was a rhetorical question. He didn't look alright, but he didn't seem like he was dying so there was that to consider. "I suppose it was." She'd murmur softly as she gazed at his wounds once more. She watched as his leg began to shake and he seemed to practically wilt before her eyes. It was like watching the death of the beautiful rose as it slowly withered away into nothing. What was once a regal head slowly drifted to a soft slouch. Where he'd seemed so king-like before he seemed almost vulnerable, wolf-like, now and she watched for a moment. He looked tired and maybe thirsty and hungry and she felt for the beaten up male. She'd chuckle at his words and lightly shook her head. She hadn't missed the twinkle in his eyes which suggested he'd already figured her out. She was no master healer like Kavdaya was an even if she was even somewhat skilled in the arts there was no denying the fact that they were in a desert. She doubted there would be much of anything that would be useful to him. Still she felt the drive, the desire, to help him as he looked down at his owl bleeding paw. The scent of iron still filled her nostrils and she mused over what she could do. "I could maybe patch you up enough to get you somewhere, but even then there isn't much this barren wasteland has to offer that is helpful." She'd pause for a moment, going over her options before she confidently continued. "If you'd like though my pack isn't too far away from here. We have many skilled healers there that can patch you up. You'd be allowed to stay with us as a guest until you've had some food and feel better." It was a risky offer, but Faite was a risk taker. She offered strangers homes when she didn't know them. She went off of her feelings and did what she thought was right. She wasn't about to leave him stranded out here without help and if he accepted she'd gladly take him home to get him the help he needed. Walk, "Talk" Think

(Sorry for the wait!<3)

HELL IS EMPTY, ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE Watching her, trying to fend off the deep pain in his left shoulder and the ache of the glass in his paw, he isn't sure if he's offended her or not with his comment. But her smile draws something similar to his own lips and he settles for concentrating on remaining upright; the temptation to slide down onto his belly and rest oh so tantalizing. Swallowing hard around the sudden dryness on his tongue, Halloran looks down once more to the glass and his paw. Determination floods him as he sees the pesky shard of glass in his flesh and wonders if he'd be able to get it out this time. The success of it giving way just before she arrived had been encouraging, and he didn't want his paw to be a mess with his insistent gnawing and biting. Distracted by his predicament and his, clearly astute, observation of her, he is slightly startled by her laughter. Dazed by the sound, his eyes find her once more, and it takes him a moment to remember what it is he'd said, what she's responding to; his vision suddenly dim around the edges. The wolf shakes his head a little in an attempt to clear it, but the movement pulls on the wounds of his neck and he gets out a frustrated laugh of his own; empty of mirth. The only thing drawing him out of this irritated stupor is her voice and her offer of help. It is, perhaps, the best thing to have happened to him since leaving his...hope, light, redemption?. He didn't even know what to call her nowadays. My failure. The one chance to make things right. It's what he gets for having put all his dreams in one place. "I would be eternally grateful." And while he was uncertain as to what direction he would take after she helped him, he would, at least, be able to limp a little further than he currently could in his state. My luck has never been so good anyway. wasteland or not, he would find a way, or he wouldn't. Such was life. She's hesitated, her next offer as genuine as the first, and Hall finds a quiet, though jarring, sigh petering out his nose. A pack. It truly was the last thing he wanted to immerse himself in after his recent endeavors. And to owe her as well...he wouldn't just be able to leave. He was creature of debts owed and debts paid, the latter having gotten him into more trouble than the first. If he could ever just ignore the moments of compassion he'd been given in his life, things would have been a lot easier along the road that landed him here. A bit skewed though his code of honor may be, he still possessed one. "Mm," The sound comes from the back of his throat as he attempts to straighten up a bit more; rich in all the ways of his voice but strained as clenches his jaw against the pain. "A place to rest sounds wonderful." Quiet, his stormy eyes now full of gratitude and kindness, that pained expression from before washed away by her charity. He means to capture her gaze so she knows. There weren't many instances where he'd felt humbled by total strangers, and he adamantly refused help from those he had trusted in the past, but this...things had to be different when he had no resources to fall back on. "Now, about your abilities to patch me up." Some life injects itself back into his demeanor once more as he shifts his eyes away from her and back towards the problematic shard of glass. "If you could help me get this out of my paw, I think I can manage until we get to your parklands." The longer he waited, the longer he stayed still, the more exhausted he grew, and it would only be a matter of time before he wouldn't be able to fight back the shadows that tried to invade the corners of his vision. ""

Blue and gold gaze would rest on him and watch him intensely as she waited on his response. He readily accepted her offer for help and she'd rise to her feet. She wasn't a healer, barely had any experience in it, but she could surely help clean his wounds some. Unfortunately anything she knew about to help staunch any bleeding didn't grow here and he'd just have to be patient until they were somewhere different where more herbs grew. Everything here was hardy and resilient, but not overly useful unless you were an herbivore looking for food. He took much longer to answer her second offer. Honestly he'd get more out of following her home but she was never one to force a decision. She'd wait patiently for him to go over his options, just as she had with Adrian, and to her own joy he finally relented. Even if he didn't say he would be allowed safety within their borders until he felt he was strong enough to leave once more. She'd offer him a home and a comfortable place to sleep and even friendship before he went on his way. Her own eyes would meet his stormy ones and she could easily see how grateful he was for her help. She'd offer him a small smile and a chuckle escaped her as he spoke. She really wasn't going to be much help to patch him up but she'd sure as hell tried. It wasn't too awfully far from Celestial and she had faith that he would make it. "Sure, I'll see what I can do." She'd now pad over to his perch, given free reign to invade his personal space. She peered down at his paw and could easily see the bit of glass that had lodged itself there with blood pooling around it. "This is gonna hurt." She'd warn him to prepare himself before she lowered her jaws and clamped them around the shard. It was hard to grip, but her determination was strong and she had already decided she was going to get it out no matter what. Giving him only a few moments to prepare himself she then tugged on it. Her grip threatened to loosen on the shard which only made her clamp down harder on it. A soft growl escaped her at the stubborn thing that was lodged in there so tight. It wasn't until another moment, a look of apology flashed at him before then, that the shard finally came free. She could taste his blood and both it and the glass were spat from her maw with haste. "There we go. You'll want to clean that and do it often while we travel. On the way I'll try and find some Horsetail so we can patch up your wounds." Walk, "Talk" Think