He awoke with a groggy sense of detachment, and the sensation of a thought at the tip of his tongue that he just couldn’t reach. His head hurt, but in a dull, distracting sort of way, and not an all-encompassing, unignorable way. He felt like he should know something, do something. That lingering sense of something forgotten irritated him more than the headache. He got slowly to his feet, rubbing his head with the back of a paw as he groggily looked about himself. He lay on the beach, a familiar stretch of sand laid out before him. What had he been doing here? He remembered the sensation of water splashing around him. Had he jumped into the sea? By the gods his head hurt, and the more he wiggled at the missing thoughts like agitating a broken tooth, the more the pain spread. He took a slow breath, letting it out past his teeth. He wiggled his teeth then with a frown, they were long, pronounced things that went on well past his gums. Had his teeth always been so long? They must have been. What a foolish thought. He shook out his wet coat, but slowly, so he did not shake his head as well. "Speech"

Small, dark stocking'd legs carried the growing girl down the beach. She had hunted herself a snack and was now simply screwing around. Staring so hard at her maps had given her an appetite and she wasn't quite ready to head back to the den. The beach looked like a nice distraction, so she decided to take a stroll. What a surprise when she saw Mort sitting on the beach as well. Her brother had been scarce of late while the other two had been a constant presence. Az when she wanted to kill things and Indy for everything else. They were growing and she was no longer the tiny pup that bubbled with enthusiasm and unbridled affection. The striped girl approached her winged brother, an easy smile on her face. "Hey, Mort." She noted that he was wet and flecks of sand coated his dark pelt. Had he been swimming and decided to take a nap? "Speech"

He heard the sound of paw-steps crunching lightly on sand, and raised his head, frowning at the young woman that approached him, easy and unhesitating. Mort she said to him, like it was supposed to mean something. Like he should understand. He frowned harder, and he could feel the cogs churning in his brain. Why, of course it did. Foolish wolf that he was. he was Mort. He knew this wolf, her easy affection came for a reason. He was fond of her. Why was that again? “Hey… Sis.” he said, voice a little groggy. Sister that's how he knew her. They were related. He wasn’t sure why every thought felt like it had to swim to molasses in order to get the barest hint at what it should mean. He stood there a moment, feeling mute and silly, before he twitched the muscles on his back, Holy howl!” he barked in astonishment, as he turned his head and saw the great big wings that sat heavily on his back. He jumped to the side, and of course the wings followed him. They were attached, after all. He was winged, he was a winged wolf. He knew that already, no need to get so worked up over it… he shuffled sheepishly and looked over at his sister. “I think I slept so heavily I forgot who I was for a moment.” the lie ran smoothly from his tongue. Had lying always come so easily to him? He didn’t think so. "Speech"

There was a look of thick confusion on her brother's face and Asla instantly furrowed her brow in worry. That worry deepened as he leaped away from his own wings. What in the stars had happened? Taking a few steps closer to him, Aslatiel looked him over thoroughly, walking a circle around him. He seemed to be all in one piece... but then why was he acting so strangely? He slept so heavily that he forgot himself? The cream colored fae tasted the lie, but she let him have it. "Are you sure that you're okay? You're acting a little strange." All the same, she stepped up to him and slid her slender little skull under his chin in an affectionate nuzzle. She had missed him. He had been so distant lately. She didn't like it one bit. "Were you swimming? You're a little wet." Raising one dark paw, she brushed clinging sand from the cheek that had touched him. There was still suspicion in her plum colored eyes as she looked him square in the face. "Speech"

He knew he wasn’t acting normal. It came from the fact that he couldn’t quite remember what normal was. His sister eyed him wearily, walking circles around him as she examined him, as through the answer was lying somewhere on his hide. That was fine with Mort, it gave him some time to remember some things - like her name, Asla, and that she was one with the stars. No, that wasn’t quite right, she just liked the stars. His sister, his star, his Asla, the wolf who was all these things, would point out his strangeness. She didn’t reserve her affection, but dolled it out like she had it in abundance. Her warm touch against this chin centered him. It told him that he loved and trusted her. His memory might be unreliable, but some memories seemed tied up in actions, and her movements loosened a few of them free. He leaned gently against the smaller wolf, even as she questioned him. He remembered his coat being wet, and the sand and water around him. He remembered being in the water, so it only went to say that he must have been swimming. “Yes” he agreed softly, lowering his head a little more to nudge her. “Asla?” he asked softly, grateful he had remembered her name. That made this easier. “Can I trust you? If I gave you a secret, would you keep it?” "Speech"

She was glad when her brother returned the affection that she bestowed upon him. It meant that he wasn't as broken as she believed him to be. Plus... she really missed him. It was nice to be close to Mort again. He was the brother that she had the least amount of time with and she desperately wanted to change that. When Mort asked if he could trust her, the girl's brow furrowed so hard that she was at risk of turning into one giant wrinkle. "That you should even feel the need to ask that shows me that something's wrong." Now she really was worried. He wasn't sure if he could trust her? Her, of all people? "Mortis," she started, bumping his chin with the top of her muzzle. "You can always trust me." What had happened? Why was he so... different? Even the look in his blue eyes seemed different than before. Less innocent. Huge purple pools searched those blue eyes and she spoke again. "Tell me what happened, big brother." It was an order. Not a request. "Speech"

He was definitely giving the game away, every word and action seemed to unsettle her. He just didn’t know how to act like someone he did not know. Who was Mort? he had fangs gutting from his jaw, sharp and deadly. Wings like the night unfurled behind him, long and sturdy at his back. Despite this, his muscles did not feel honed, and certain. He did not feel like a warrior, despite these tools the world had bestowed upon him.

“I’m holding you to that’ he said softly, putting his trust in Asla. he might not remember everything about her, but even as she said it, he knew it to be true. He could trust her, he had always been able to.

He let out a soft sigh, taking a seat in the sand, lowering his wings gently so the bottoms of them brushed the ground. “I’m not sure, actually. When you found me I was just remembering that I exist at all. Let alone who I am… I remembered you, after you spoke to me, but not before. I don’t know what happened, but it’s like a hole opened up in my memory. I don’t want everyone to know this happened, not until I at least remember who ‘everyone’ is” he said softly, letting a hint of weary weakness show, not remembering that weakness had been his primary state. “Will you help me?”

Her brother got right down to business. He told her what he remembered and what he didn't. He didn't remember a lot, apparently. This time when she searched his face, she believed him. "I'm glad you're telling me the truth now." Having Mort lie to her had bothered her. Even though it was a small lie, it stung a bit. Aslatiel knew that she was trustworthy when it came to her brothers. She wouldn't share their secrets and she would hold everything in confidentiality. She would let it slide this time since he claimed to have lost his memory, but if he lied to her again... She'd bite the shit out of him. Releasing a long sigh, Asla sat before her towering sibling and looked up at him. Had he struck his head while swimming? It would make the most sense. Had something popped in his brain? She didn't know anything about the workings of the body, despite having done a vivisection on that paddle tailed log creature. Maybe she should talk him into seeing their Aunt Io? "Does your head hurt?" Maybe they should try to figure out if he was injured or not. Should she help him remember? "Do you remember our brothers? Indigo is a big, purple thing and Azure looks kind of like you, only without wings." She conveniently left out the fact that the two brothers seemed to hate one another. "Our father is Sirius and our mother is Zee. We have an aunt Iolaire whom we all adore. Io's mother lives in our pack too. Her name is Resin. She has one eye." What else could she tell him? "Our pack is the Ashen Armada. Our father is the warlord of the pack and we're affiliated with the neighboring pack, Ashen." Tilting her head slightly, she asked. "Is any of this ringing a bell?" "Speech"

She didn’t seem terribly fazed by his words, she simply set herself to the challenge, with no fuss. He loved her a little more for it, new love, and truer for being more than just a memory. “It did when I first woke, but it’s been fading” he admitted. Likely it was relevant, but he didn’t think they could do much with the information now.

She started to list their family, giving some info with their names. Indigo was purple. Azure looked like him, which, honestly, would be more helpful if he remembered what he looked like. Their father was Sirius, their mother Zee. It was strange that she called this Io an Aunt, and spoke of her mother as though she did not share it with their parents. Who had been Io’s sibling, Sirius or Zee? He puzzled through it for a second, before giving up. The memories would return when they returned. “I feel like it’s… not wrong, and like I know what your saying is not wrong, but that's about it.” he said with a helpless shrug.

He had known as soon as she said it that he had brothers, that this was their pack, there was a familiarity to it, but try as he might he could call to mind the form of a purple brother. A wolf that looked like him. Parents, who’s colors he knew nothing about. Or something, maybe, but the blackness shrouded them. He grunted, annoyed. “Who am I, Asla? Maybe i’ll remember once i’ve walked through them, but I don’t want them to know. It’s okay if you know, but I don’t… I don’t want to be weak.” he said softly, only Asla would know this weakness in his brain.

Mortis struggled as she spoke. She could see it in his dark face as he struggled to both comprehend and remember. Asla couldn't say that she wasn't worried. This was a very strange and worrisome ordeal. And he didn't want to tell their parents about it? She supposed that she understood, but still. It was a lot for one wolf, especially one as young as they were, to deal with.

Aslatiel listened as he spoke of the words sounding real but not feeling real. Perhaps things would come back in time. For now though, she would work with him as much as he needed. She imagined that he must feel very alone, and that was something that she didn't want for him. None of her brothers would ever be alone. Not until she was dead.

He'd said that his head had hurt when he woke. As Mort sat down, Asla came close. Rising on her hind legs, she placed one paw on his chest while the other gently moved along his skull, testing for injuries. If he winced in pain, she figured that he struck his head, perhaps on the bottom of the sea. Mort was vulnerable. He was uncertain about everything, especially himself. He worried about being weak. As the cream and grey girl inspected her brother for injuries she kissed him between the eyes and smiled. "You aren't weak, Mort. You never were." He'd had doubts about being weak before, but he wasn't. Not in her eyes. He had been different, but never weak.

She did not tell him who he was, nly what he apparently was not. She said the words with conviction, and he startled at them. He had considered himself weak, hadn’t he? A vague memory brushed against his mind, but it was too faint to draw to the present. But it was true, he realised, with a sinking heart. That was what he had been, or at least some part of him. That wasn’t who he wanted to be, he needed strength. He needed to wrap himself up in it, like a safety blanket. Perhaps he didn’t want all of his memories back, he could start afresh, be someone different. He just needed to convince his family that there was nothing wrong, at the same time as shaping who he will be. He was young, there was time to fix himself. He took a slow breath, letting it out through his nose as he looked at the smaller wolf before him. Some things would stay, always, through anything. “I love you Asla” he said, unafraid to say it as he wrapped her up in a hug. Bringing his wings down into it, to cover her in their great, silky length, so that features brushed against her hide and nose, as he grinned down at her. He was a little shaky, and uncertain, but he drew strength from Asla. They were in this together "Speech"

Mort wrapped her up in an embrace and Aslatiel grinned, tiny white teeth flashing. "I love you too, Mort. Always have. Always will." She squeezed him back in return, pressing her cheek against him. His feathers tickled her face and the girl giggled softly before releasing her brother and sitting once more.

"If you don't want them to know... we'll have to think of a reason why you're gone." Tilting her head slightly, she considered reasons. Then her purple eyes flashed mischievously. "Now that you're intent on being stronger... you should let me take you hunting." Her grin widened as she waited to see what he would think of her proposal. He would have to learn eventually. If his fear rose while they were hunting, she would make the kill herself if possible. She had faith that he would rise above and be able to do learn though.

He didn’t have to vanish to hide his memories from his family, but he appreciated the sentiment, and it would give him a chance to recover a little of what he could. Besides, spending time with Asla was always a treat. He did not recall his fear of killing things, but felt some stirring of a memory that made him hesitate, and frown. But no he wasn’t that wolf anymore. Whatever reservations he had with hunting, he could just forget them. He was glad he had Asla with him, that way if whatever that nagging thought was came back, she would be there to help him. “Sounds like a plan!” "Speech"

Mort agreed to go hunting with her and the girl beamed. She wiggled out of his feathery embrace and hopped backwards a few times, loosening herself up. "What shall we hunt?" Her options were limited since he was new to the game and she was small. Rabbits were fast and difficult. Deer were a little large. Pigs though... there were pigs in abundance here, thanks to the wet earth of the seaside plain. Pigs, though loud, were easy. "Let's hunt pigs. We can get dinner for everyone." It was a good idea, she thought. Whether or not Mort was comfortable with it, she didn't know, but would do as he wished. She was the support system, afterall.

Motioning for him to follow, the small girl used her nose to guide her in the direction of their next meal. She wasn't exactly hungry, but she could always kill something. By the time they were finished, she'd be hungry for sure.

She asked him what they should hunt, but he didn’t need to scramble for an answer - she supplied one for herself in a moment. Pigs sounded good, and he had a vague memory… something about pigs, and Asla, but the thought stayed out of reach. He chased away the cobwebs of half-forgotten things and grinned at his sister.

He followed after her easily, tucking his wings tightly out of the way against his side. They were still a little damp, and would take time to fully dry, but that was fine. Maybe the exercise would do the trick.

He followed her lead, not sure what sort of scent he should be looking for. This was all new to him, and he had a feeling past him didn’t give him anything to draw on here, either.

Mort followed along behind her and she grinned. This was going to be fun. Sheer loved hunting with Az, but she wanted to spend time with all of her brothers. She and Mort hadn't had much in common before, so this would be good for both of them.

Her nose locked onto a particularly pungent scent and she motioned Mort forward silently. Pointing through the foliage, she directed his attention to a pile of muddy pigs wallowing between the trees. Bringing her muzzle close to his ear, she whispered. "I can run one to you or you can run one to me." She preferred the former since he was bigger and could hold the of while she killed it, but they could do it the other way around too. It would just be more of a challenge.

Again she peered through the leaves. "If we pick the smallest pig, I can take it out. If you want to be the one waiting, we can take something larger." She explained their choices and the actions that would ensue based in the decision made. It felt like she was the teacher and she rather liked the feeling.

Asla seemed to have no trouble finding the prey she sought, and he suspected she had done this a few times. He flicked a pleased look of respect at her, glad she was on his side. She was smaller than him, and he had a feeling that difference would only grow, but she had enough courage for all of them combined.

She gave him the option of running it to, or having it run to, and he thought it over for a moment. “You run it” he suggested, having just thought of their difference in height, and realising that made the best sense.

He settled down, wings tucked against his side to make him a smaller target so the boar wouldn’t see him until it was too late, and he waited for his sister to get into place.

Mort thought over the choices, then decided that she should run the pig into his awaiting jaws. Asla grinned, placed a quick kiss on the side of her brother's muzzle, and quietly stalked off. Slowly and with great care, the small wolf placed her paws where they would make no sound. With autumn here, the leaves of the mangroves had fallen and would sometimes crunch if they became dry enough. The branches pulled at her fur, but she tried to duck below them to keep them from jostling and creating sound.

Once on the other side of the wallow, the girl peeked through the foliage and worked on locating her brother on the other side. Mort was doing such a good job of staying still that she couldn't see him at first. It was only the steady rise and fall of his body as he breathed that let her see him. She searched for his blue eyes and found them. With a flash of a smile and a nod, she let him know that she was ready. A nod from him would let her know that he was ready as well.

He gave her a grin and a little tail wag at her kiss, before going serious, and setting himself up for the hunt. He had to make up what he was doing, having no real experience to pull on. He wiggled into the long grass, and slowed his breathing, trying to bring calm and quiet to himself.

He watched for his sister, and met her eyes when she looked his way. Her purple gaze seemed excited, and he knew the hunt was about to begin. He gave her a nod, returning the one she gave him, he tried his best not to fidget. He had to be still, and quiet, and ready.

With the nod of affirmation the pair were ready. Aslatiel looked over the pigs resting and rooting in the dirt and chose her target. It wasn't the largest pig, but it was a nice, mid sized hunk of walking meat. And it was right in line with her brother. All she had to do was run it straight into his face and they would be eating pig for dinner.

Inhaling deeply, Asla released her breath slowly. Kitten claws dug into the earth and she threw her weight forward, rocketing from the undergrowth. The porcine packages of deliciousness squealed and ran in all directions. That was fine. She only needed the one. With the footsteps of a dancer, she herded the panicked piglet straight to where Mort lay in wait. If he caught the pig on the first try, she would be impressed. If he missed it, she wouldn't hold it against him. He'd forgotten a lot, after all.