Scald was on his way back from the Forgotten Isle. His intention was to go straight back to the Obsidian Beach, but after sharing that bottle with Arwood, he wasn’t exactly sure where he was. Though his nose was clearly telling him that he was on pack lands, he didn’t know which pack it was. Both of his eye squinted against the bright winter sun as it peeked out from behind some clouds. Ducking beneath a few low hanging branches of some trees, he pressed his side against the bark. “Fuck, I shoulda waited till mornin’,” he rumbled to himself as he tried to blink away the drunkenness. S C A L D

She'd spent a decent amount of time in the Grove lately. Though it was technically winter, Meadow found herself outside anyway. Winter hadn't quite brought on the cold she was hoping, instead turning the entire world around her grey and soggy. Hey, that was okay. Soggy was fine too, she didn't have all that much to complain about. Cloudy and soggy days wouldn't dampen her spirits, not if she didn't let them. Looking for useful herbs in the Grove was a decent way to pass the time. Well... yeah, that was what she was supposedly doing. Not that she was looking all that hard, or all that intently, instead allowing herself to be lost in thought. There were so many interesting things to think about, after all. One of the best things on Meadow's mind was the big, brilliant mirrors that she'd read about. Something about focusing the sun, something else about a death ray... it sounded so cool. Not that mirrors could actually kill anyone, so there wouldn't be any real death. She wasn't going to hurt anyone, no, of course not. She was just going to think really hard about the cool heat ray. Think, and think, and think more. Meadow was more than a little lost in those thoughts when she, quite literally, stumbled on the boy. A soft squeak, and a backwards stumble-scramble. Her eyes went wide, peering at him. A stranger in the Grove? A stranger. Here. In the Grove. Meadow stared at him, wide eyed, startled for a long moment. "Speech"

Eyes closed, breathing shallow, leaning against the tree, Scald was having a rough go of it. Attempting to focus as much as he could, he drowned himself in his own little world. The stars twinkling behind his eyelids definitely meant he was the most hungover he had ever been. That booze Arwood had found sure had been strong. Counting each breath, he inhaled, waited a moment, then exhaled. Nothing really helped. Not even the gentle breeze that fluttered against his face. Hoping he could sleep off the crappy feeling, he was soon startled by soft fur pressing against him. With the wind blowing the other way, he hadn’t smelled the girl and with his senses drowned by booze, he hadn’t heard her until her squeak made his eyes pop open. His whole body tenses and starts away from the tree as he turns on her. Wide eyed, hackles raised, and ears going from pressed forward to flattened, Scald stared back at her. Her scent, now that he could smell her, was similar to this place. “Can you help me?” His voice is hoarse as his body relaxes. Usually he would have gone with a shadier route. Straight to flirting, straight to being a pirate. But as his bi-colored gaze glances over the pretty girl standing in front of him, he wonders if maybe he should just be himself. No trying, no faking it. As he relaxes, he slumps down into a scrunched over sitting position. “I’m really hungover and it fuckin’ hurts,” there is a drawl to his words as he lets his legs slide down until his elbows are on the ground. Looking up at her with the best puppy-dog look he could give her, he even added a little smile in hopes she would take pity on him. S C A L D

 

   

His ears pinned to his head, and he smelled... not good. Fermented, almost. Pickled? No, more fermented. Antiseptic. Was he injured? Had he gotten hurt and had someone wash the wounds out? Meadow was still trying to process what she was seeing, and the boy was looking at her with his hackles up. Heart pounding in her chest, Meadow was visibly nervous. Was he aggressive? If she needed to call for mom, for Artorias, would she be able to? Meadow didn't think of that, and she hadn't really tried before.

But then, he was um... a bit pathetic, actually. Pathetic in the way that tugged at her heartstrings, the lost puppy act really kicking in. He needed help. Meadow could help him, probably. He was all slumped and scrunched, and could he really be a threat in his current condition? And he didn't feel well. Hungover... did she know how to fix that? No. Still, the girl gazed at him with interest, trying to process exactly what was happening. He looked tired. He looked worn out. He looked like he was struggling... hm. At his request for help, she simply nods before disappearing back into the shadowy grove.

Meadow was lucky that the plants here were fairly plentiful. She gathered a bundle of mint and chamomile from the little patches the healers planted and maintained. It took only a few minutes, and she returned to the spot that she'd run into the boy. Careful to keep her distance just in case, Meadow set the herbs down for him. Upon taking a backwards step, she looked up at him. Those were for him... if he'd take them. He'd asked for help, but taking herbs from a stranger? Meadow wasn't sure if she'd do it. Well, help was here.
     
   

 

Scald’s eyes squint with the scrunch of his brow as his head tilts lightly to the side. The girl had suddenly turned and disappeared into the grove. His ears flicker backward as he lets his eyes close. Being confused only made his brain ache even more. She had stared at him as if he were a skunk which was closer to being true than he cared to admit. But to just… wander away without a single word? Was he really that terrifying? There was no way. Defeated, he lays his chin on his paws and allows his head to swim. As he lay there, hoping the hangover would go away quickly, he was soon surprised by the sound of her paws returning. Her steps were light, as if she weren’t even touching the ground. The way she moved silently was impressive. Maybe she could teach him a thing or two. Looking at her through slits, he glanced at what she had brought him. As she sets it down and quickly takes a step back, he looks from the herbs to her with another confused expression. “Do ya not speak?” Scald questions with a scowl. Could he really trust someone who didn’t say a single word? He waits, hoping she would speak, but when she doesn’t, he has to assume that she is trying to help. Hesitantly, he scoots forward on his belly until his lips can reach the bundle she laid on the ground. Sniffing it at first, he can’t really tell what either one was but one was strong and almost spicy and the other was gentle and calm. Letting out a gruff hum, he finally reaches to take a few nibbles. Chewing the leaves slowly, his face scrunches up from the bitterness but swallows anyway. “This what I’m s’posed to be doin’?” Scald asks as he hesitantly and somewhat unwillingly finishes the bundle she had set before him. S C A L D

He was... scowling. Meadow's ears wilted against her head, sheepish. Shy. Do ya not speak? Well, he'd gotten it right, at least. She nodded, confirming his suspicions. She doesn't speak. She's never spoken, at least while she's awake. It's only in interacting with her grandmother, with the Meadow before her, that she's been able to muster up words. Those were all in dreams, with someone who seemed to... well, who seemed to know her better than even she knew herself. He moved on his belly instead of rising to his feet. It was puzzling to Meadow, was he feeling weak? Or was it more dizziness, more his head? She studied him carefully, opalescent eyes settling on the boy. Trying to read him, trying to process exactly what he might be doing. It was interesting, but she was also... maybe a bit confused. Meadow is allowed to be confused, she decides. He was taking the little bundle, nibbling on it, before starting to chew. Meadow offered a soft nod, he'd gotten it right. Maybe the taste was putting him off, that would be fair. If he was weak, then he'd also be dehydrated. Meadow took a few steps backwards before turning to disappear for a few more moments. There were buckets out within the grove to collect rainwater, usually used to water the plants. There was enough within this one that it was too heavy for Meadow to lift. Instead she grabbed one of the makeshift scoops from within it (a bowl from the kitchen, from the looks of it), and filled it. This was good enough. The girl returned to the strange rainbow boy once more, padding to him and setting the water down within reach too. Well, he didn't look dead at least. That had to count for something. "Speech"

Before he had a chance to ask another question, the girl was disappearing once more. Scald is puzzled as he finishes chewing up the herbs she had given him. Swallowing harshly against his dry throat and scrunched expression, he waits. Maybe he is foolish to wait. Maybe, now that she has helped him, she has gotten smart and run off back home. Yet, his ears tell him otherwise. He can hear rustling in the berry-filled brush which indicates she is not far off. What could she be doing? Sliding back up until he was sitting as he waited for her, Scald took this time to glance around. The scent markers here were strong now that he wasn't so... incapacitated. Which pack had he stumbled upon? His brow furrows as he wonders. It is a familiar scent, one that his father had told him to not mess with. Oops. Scald thinks to himself as his eyes widen slightly. Castle town, right? Wasn't that what they had called this pack? He glances over his shoulder as some leaves rustle. Suddenly worried, he starts when the girl comes back with water. "Oh, water, bless the gods," Scald murmurs as he eyes her warily before taking a long good drink. With water dripping from his lips, he lifts his head and eyes her once more. "You live in the castle, don't ya?" He asks, his tone shifting to a more cautious one as his ears turn to be more on alert. If this girl was out wandering alone... Someone might come looking for her. S C A L D

Carefully, she watches him. It's like watching a bug caught under glass, the boy is... odd. Almost like a science experiment, and she's glad that he's not trapped behind glass. Was this what other wolves her age were like? He smelled like the solution her aunt used to wash out wounds only... worse. And he didn't seem to be wounded, although he did look like he'd been beaten up pretty badly. Hung over, he said, but was he sure that he hadn't been in a fight? At least he seemed grateful enough. Bless the gods... could she be a god? Meadow had read about them in her books. Gods of light, of poetry, of love, of war. There should be a god for healers, but Meadow would need to do more reading. Maybe that's what she'd look for when she was back inside. Right, she has a patient for now. He'd asked her a question. Meadow nodded, she lived in the castle. The girl fixed him with an inquiring glance right back. Who was he, where had he come from, why was he here? All valid questions, though most of them... probably could be answered with a little critical thinking. Where else would a drunk yearling who showed up at random come from? The Hallows mission was to render aid, and here she was, doing some rendering. Was there more malicious implications to a pirate turning up? Should she be sitting this close to him? Shoot. Meadow would try to bite back her anxiety for a little while longer. "Speech"

Her returning quizzical look was super obvious. So was the fear that made the edges of her eyes turn white. Scald's head turns slightly to the side. In his current state, he was in no shape to be doing anything to anyone. Plus, unlike his father, he was more... docile like his mother. He would rather use his tongue to hurt others than his physical force. So really, the girl had nothing to worry about. For now at least. He couldn't help but sigh before taking another sip of water. When he lifts his muzzle and stares at her, he wonders again why she doesn't speak. Maybe she really is scared... His brow furrows and his lips purse before he resolves to just being the one talking in this situation. "Scald is my name. Yes, I'm a Pirate... well we're called Raiders now, but same thing," he shrugs his shoulders as he lays down on his belly and sprawls out his legs. If they were going to be here awhile, he figured he might as well get comfortable. "You gon' talk or what? Got a name? I ain't gonna tell ya more until ya give me something," Scald tries to insist but he smiles anyway and hopes she understands that he's just trying to push her buttons. S C A L D