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Description

Characters: Gale & Mortimer
Setting: Outskirts of Starheim [Summer 2023]
Summary: When Mortimer attempts to unravel some of Gale's thoughts on everything occurring within the pack as of late, he gets more than he bargains for when the Hunter lashes out at him.

Lashing Out

Word Count: 2,324

Though his wing was still healing, Mortimer was feeling better with each passing day. Especially since he was being fed by these foolish wolves that surrounded him and welcomed him into their pack. Though he missed the freedom of traveling on his own, he had to admit there were worse fates for a carrion bird such as himself. He needed a break from the darkness of the caves of Starheim, and what better way to do that than soaking up some rays of summer sun? Too bad that was a bust...the storm clouds above made his excursion pointless. But still he remained perched upon a log a few meters away from one of the sneakier side entrances of the main denning area. Not many came by here, especially on such a dreary day...

However, besides the lack of sunlight one other thing was souring his pleasant day. That thing? Gale. Ugh, the hunter was moping yet again it seemed. Gale was a short distance away, picking at the scraps of what he managed to hunt down today. Most of the good meat was given to his packmates. Mortimer couldn't understand why this stupid wolf was so hellbent on caring for literally everyone and everything else before himself.

Perhaps that was why he was so damn miserable all the time- at least that was Mortimer's theory. Still, Morty had been around long enough to know this alone wasn't the sole cause of Gale's struggles. Though Mortimer tried to keep his distance, especially during the night, even he could see and hear Gale tossing and turning in his sleep constantly. He wondered what haunted the boy so. It reminded him so much of Ares...especially after he lost his dear sister. Still, despite being among the Fellfangir and with Gale for a few weeks now, he still knew little about the wolf who saved him.

Mortimer knew better than to pry though, especially since he wasn't so keen on sharing his own sordid past with anyone. Still, seeing the wolf drag himself through the days so damn miserably was pathetic to watch. Weren't wolves supposed to be noble beasts? Pah, whoever came up with that must have never met a wolf in their life! All he saw was four legged fiends once again turning on one another due to fickle emotions and arbitrary ties.

Gale felt powerless, even more so after his conversation with the Jarlsen a few days after his run-in with Cadell. The Hunter struggled to come to terms with the fact that he was unable to stand up for Cadell and their plight. Once again, Gale's fear of confrontation and apprehension for making things worse than they already were held him back. Though he did his best to try and have some kind of heart to heart with Sigmundr, the other wolf seemed unwilling and unreceptive to forge such a connection. There was a cold, harsh distance in the boy's eyes...even after Gale poured his heart out to him. Worse yet...Gale wondered what he and Illsa's fate would be should the Jarlsen run off to his mother with the news that they met with the exiled Grun at the borders. To say Gale was anxious would have been a grave understatement.

Mortimer's gaze once again flickered to the hunter idly chewing on a bone. Pathetic. He knew he was attached to the wolf that was banished...but this was ridiculous. "Alright...I've had enough." He stated abruptly before hopping off the log and hobbling towards Gale.

Gale was lost in his thoughts, simply just toying with the scraps he managed to save for himself to pass the time. The mounting stress in his life was beginning to overwhelm him, between the ghost, nightmares, and exile of Cadell, and Sigmundr's report on them...he couldn't help but feel like the tide was pulling him under. Snapping out of his spiral at the sound of Mortimer's voice, his gaze narrowed and his head tilted in slight confusion at the bird's sudden outburst.

"I beg your pardon?" Gale asked.

"I'm sick of it." Mortimer grunted.

"I know it's taking a while for your wing to heal-" Gale began nervously.

Mortimer cut him off before he could continue. "No, not that you fool. I'm sick of your moping, what's your problem?" Groaned the carrion bird in exasperation.

Gale was taken aback by the aggressive bird's confrontation, he remained silent for a few moments before looking away. "Does it matter?" He muttered quietly, more to himself than the vulture.

"No." Mortimer replied bluntly. "It doesn't matter, not to me and not in the grand scheme of things either." The ragged bird said bluntly with a slight shrug of his good shoulder. "But clearly it does to you and seeing you barely have the life in you to drag yourself out of bed in the morning just to spend your days hunting to try and drown out whatever it is you're dealing with is..." Mortimer, for once, hesitated in his words. "Honestly, it's a bit pathetic to watch."

Was it really that obvious? Of course it was obvious how miserable and exhausting his existence currently was...both to himself as well as those that cared about him- hell even those that didn't care about him like Mortimer apparently could still see through his facade... Still, Gale carried on...it was all he knew how to do after all. "I'm...sorry."

With a sigh that sounded more like a hiss and a roll of his eyes, Mortimer glared at the hunter with disdain. "I wish you would stop apologizing, boy, it loses its power the more you do it needlessly." The vulture replied flatly. He shook his head disappointedly before sauntering in front of the wolf and making himself almost entirely unavoidable to look at. He made sure their gazes met before continuing to speak. "Tell me boy, what is haunting you?"

A few moments of silence fell between vulture and wolf as Gale stared him in the eyes. For the first time Gale took in the bird's harsh gaze, looking at his wrinkled skin and scars by the side of his face...it made Gale wonder how he received them. Still, he knew better than to ask. "I...I don't know." It wasn't that he didn't know, but rather it was all so much it was hard to pinpoint something concise enough to satisfy the vulture's question without monologuing. He didn't need to burden someone who didn't even care with his issues. He had already tried to reach out, to connect with Sigmundr... but it was clear that this attempt of his was all but a failure. Because of this...Gale was reluctant to put his heart and emotions on the line- especially with Mortimer. After all...he said it himself; it doesn't matter.

"You are just a terrible liar." Mortimer grumbled before once again shaking his head. He loomed closer to Gale, making sure the wolf did not break eye contact. "This will be the last time I ask politely...now tell me what are you feeling? You can do that much, can't you?" There was venom laced in his demand, it was clear what little patience the bird had left was whittling away quickly. "That shit will eat you alive if you continue to hold it in...trust me." Mortimer spoke from experience on this front, but that was a story for a different day.

Flinching slightly at Morty's tone, Gale let out a shaky sigh as he broke eye contact with the bird, looking down at his paws awkwardly. How did he feel through all of this? It was a harder question to answer than what the bird was making it out to be- at least as far as Gale was concerned. Gale sighed once more before furrowing his brows in frustration. He didn't want to think about this... "Why does it matter how I feel about anything? What's the point of telling anyone how I feel?" Gale snapped angrily, the pressure finally getting to him. "It's not as if you or anyone else here gives a damn on how I really feel!" Oh boy now those feelings were coming out, albeit indirectly. Gale was simply lashing out to the nearest source of his current discomfort at the moment...which just so happened to be the injured vulture. "You may not have been here long Mortimer, but a bird as old as you should clearly see what the hell happens when wolves around here are honest with how they're feeling- they get distrusted, demoted, or worse yet exiled!" Gale's once relaxed position had shifted into one of defense, he was now sitting up with his long limbs shaking from exhaustion as he struggled to keep his cool.

Mortimer was caught off guard when it came to Gale's slight outburst, but he merely blinked as the distance between the pair grew ever so slightly. The last thing he needed was to have this wolf's fit of repressed rage taken out on him. "Ah...so 'angry' is definitely an emotion I am picking up on." Mortimer muttered with offhanded sarcasm as Gale shifted to turn away from the bird. Though it was true, Mortimer may not have been here for long...it was clear he came during a strange and uneasy time for Fellfang. Still, now he wanted to keep poking this proverbial bear, to get more than the usual servile hunter he normally saw. To say his curiosity was piqued would be an understatement. "If you're so miserable here...then why do you stay?"

As Mortimer posed the question that had been nagging Gale in the back of his mind for many moons now, his stare seemed to drift to a place far away.

Dearest Gale, why do you remain among these wolves that would throw you out on the whim of a child just because of who his mother is?

Just when Gale thought things couldn't get worse...Mother's voice rang internally to him. His gaze flickered towards the treeline as he finally noticed her ethereal presence in the distance...just behind Mortimer.

They will never care for you as you do them. Why do you bother?

"I..." Gale's words were trapped in his throat, why did he remain when with each passing day he struggled to see Fellfang as the pack he once remembered? One where honor and justice were held in high regards...now reduced to...whatever this was. Did he even have a right to be upset? He washed ashore during one of the most tumultuous times in the pack's history, trapped by the hive only to be barely saved by the mercy of other packs in the area. Did he ever really know what Fellfang was truly about? Had they really lost their ways or had his eyes just finally been open to what his mother had tried to warn him of all along?

This is not your home Gale...

This is my home... Valera and Nephele saved me. Illsa, Tadita, Cacao, Kekoa, and Cadell...they've all been-

You're deluding yourself my beloved boy.

It's not delusion, this is my-

Your home is with me...

"Damn it all, just leave me be!" His voice cracked like thunder, startling Mortimer back a few feet from his sudden, more violent outburst after what felt like an eternity of silence.

Morimer stared at Gale in a confused daze for a moment before his own anger got the better of him. The vulture hissed in frustration, not even realizing that Gale wasn't speaking to him. He huffed heavily before finally speaking, "You act so self-sacrificing, hunting for others despite your own hunger but... you're not as good of a wolf as you'd like to think you are- you only take care of others' problems just to outrun your own! Anyone with half a mind could see it if they just looked at you for more than five minutes!" Mortimer was seething, the one time he tried being nice and to give the boy a place to vent his frustrations just blew up in his face. He really didn't like that... "But if you keep putting everyone before yourself boy, there won't be any of you left. These feelings of yours will eat you alive and leave only a husk." The vulture warned Gale as he began to hop in the direction of Starheim. He had enough of this for one day, honestly... "And when you inevitably wind up alone...you won't even have yourself to fall back on." With these cryptic words Mortmer let out a final, indignant hiss at Gale before hobbling back into the caves.

After Mortimer lashed back at him, Gale's maw was slightly ajar- wanting so desperately to argue back...but once again his voice was held back by his own inhibitions. He hadn't meant to let his internal argument with mother seep outside his mind. Still...it had. His head hung low in shame, Mortimer was just showing some kind of concern...or at least interest at the bare minimum. Then Gale just threw it right back in the vulture's face. Mortimer was right...on all fronts- he wasn't a very good wolf...was he?

Gale's mouth opened once more to attempt to call out to the bird that was making his way back to Starheim's entrance...but no words would come out. He closed his maw, gritting it tightly as his head hung low. Leaning his head against the invisible force that haunted him, he truly felt as if he was losing his mind. Even if he drove those that seemingly cared about him away...at least he could take some sort of warped sense of comfort in the fact that Mortimer was wrong about one thing.

It will be alright my dear...

He would never be alone.

I promise.

Not as long as Mother was there...

Gale, Mortimer, art, and writing (C) Weasele .

Description

Characters: Gale & Mortimer
Setting: Outskirts of Starheim [Summer 2023]
Summary: When Mortimer attempts to unravel some of Gale's thoughts on everything occurring within the pack as of late, he gets more than he bargains for when the Hunter lashes out at him.

Lashing Out

Word Count: 2,324

Though his wing was still healing, Mortimer was feeling better with each passing day. Especially since he was being fed by these foolish wolves that surrounded him and welcomed him into their pack. Though he missed the freedom of traveling on his own, he had to admit there were worse fates for a carrion bird such as himself. He needed a break from the darkness of the caves of Starheim, and what better way to do that than soaking up some rays of summer sun? Too bad that was a bust...the storm clouds above made his excursion pointless. But still he remained perched upon a log a few meters away from one of the sneakier side entrances of the main denning area. Not many came by here, especially on such a dreary day...

However, besides the lack of sunlight one other thing was souring his pleasant day. That thing? Gale. Ugh, the hunter was moping yet again it seemed. Gale was a short distance away, picking at the scraps of what he managed to hunt down today. Most of the good meat was given to his packmates. Mortimer couldn't understand why this stupid wolf was so hellbent on caring for literally everyone and everything else before himself.

Perhaps that was why he was so damn miserable all the time- at least that was Mortimer's theory. Still, Morty had been around long enough to know this alone wasn't the sole cause of Gale's struggles. Though Mortimer tried to keep his distance, especially during the night, even he could see and hear Gale tossing and turning in his sleep constantly. He wondered what haunted the boy so. It reminded him so much of Ares...especially after he lost his dear sister. Still, despite being among the Fellfangir and with Gale for a few weeks now, he still knew little about the wolf who saved him.

Mortimer knew better than to pry though, especially since he wasn't so keen on sharing his own sordid past with anyone. Still, seeing the wolf drag himself through the days so damn miserably was pathetic to watch. Weren't wolves supposed to be noble beasts? Pah, whoever came up with that must have never met a wolf in their life! All he saw was four legged fiends once again turning on one another due to fickle emotions and arbitrary ties.

Gale felt powerless, even more so after his conversation with the Jarlsen a few days after his run-in with Cadell. The Hunter struggled to come to terms with the fact that he was unable to stand up for Cadell and their plight. Once again, Gale's fear of confrontation and apprehension for making things worse than they already were held him back. Though he did his best to try and have some kind of heart to heart with Sigmundr, the other wolf seemed unwilling and unreceptive to forge such a connection. There was a cold, harsh distance in the boy's eyes...even after Gale poured his heart out to him. Worse yet...Gale wondered what he and Illsa's fate would be should the Jarlsen run off to his mother with the news that they met with the exiled Grun at the borders. To say Gale was anxious would have been a grave understatement.

Mortimer's gaze once again flickered to the hunter idly chewing on a bone. Pathetic. He knew he was attached to the wolf that was banished...but this was ridiculous. "Alright...I've had enough." He stated abruptly before hopping off the log and hobbling towards Gale.

Gale was lost in his thoughts, simply just toying with the scraps he managed to save for himself to pass the time. The mounting stress in his life was beginning to overwhelm him, between the ghost, nightmares, and exile of Cadell, and Sigmundr's report on them...he couldn't help but feel like the tide was pulling him under. Snapping out of his spiral at the sound of Mortimer's voice, his gaze narrowed and his head tilted in slight confusion at the bird's sudden outburst.

"I beg your pardon?" Gale asked.

"I'm sick of it." Mortimer grunted.

"I know it's taking a while for your wing to heal-" Gale began nervously.

Mortimer cut him off before he could continue. "No, not that you fool. I'm sick of your moping, what's your problem?" Groaned the carrion bird in exasperation.

Gale was taken aback by the aggressive bird's confrontation, he remained silent for a few moments before looking away. "Does it matter?" He muttered quietly, more to himself than the vulture.

"No." Mortimer replied bluntly. "It doesn't matter, not to me and not in the grand scheme of things either." The ragged bird said bluntly with a slight shrug of his good shoulder. "But clearly it does to you and seeing you barely have the life in you to drag yourself out of bed in the morning just to spend your days hunting to try and drown out whatever it is you're dealing with is..." Mortimer, for once, hesitated in his words. "Honestly, it's a bit pathetic to watch."

Was it really that obvious? Of course it was obvious how miserable and exhausting his existence currently was...both to himself as well as those that cared about him- hell even those that didn't care about him like Mortimer apparently could still see through his facade... Still, Gale carried on...it was all he knew how to do after all. "I'm...sorry."

With a sigh that sounded more like a hiss and a roll of his eyes, Mortimer glared at the hunter with disdain. "I wish you would stop apologizing, boy, it loses its power the more you do it needlessly." The vulture replied flatly. He shook his head disappointedly before sauntering in front of the wolf and making himself almost entirely unavoidable to look at. He made sure their gazes met before continuing to speak. "Tell me boy, what is haunting you?"

A few moments of silence fell between vulture and wolf as Gale stared him in the eyes. For the first time Gale took in the bird's harsh gaze, looking at his wrinkled skin and scars by the side of his face...it made Gale wonder how he received them. Still, he knew better than to ask. "I...I don't know." It wasn't that he didn't know, but rather it was all so much it was hard to pinpoint something concise enough to satisfy the vulture's question without monologuing. He didn't need to burden someone who didn't even care with his issues. He had already tried to reach out, to connect with Sigmundr... but it was clear that this attempt of his was all but a failure. Because of this...Gale was reluctant to put his heart and emotions on the line- especially with Mortimer. After all...he said it himself; it doesn't matter.

"You are just a terrible liar." Mortimer grumbled before once again shaking his head. He loomed closer to Gale, making sure the wolf did not break eye contact. "This will be the last time I ask politely...now tell me what are you feeling? You can do that much, can't you?" There was venom laced in his demand, it was clear what little patience the bird had left was whittling away quickly. "That shit will eat you alive if you continue to hold it in...trust me." Mortimer spoke from experience on this front, but that was a story for a different day.

Flinching slightly at Morty's tone, Gale let out a shaky sigh as he broke eye contact with the bird, looking down at his paws awkwardly. How did he feel through all of this? It was a harder question to answer than what the bird was making it out to be- at least as far as Gale was concerned. Gale sighed once more before furrowing his brows in frustration. He didn't want to think about this... "Why does it matter how I feel about anything? What's the point of telling anyone how I feel?" Gale snapped angrily, the pressure finally getting to him. "It's not as if you or anyone else here gives a damn on how I really feel!" Oh boy now those feelings were coming out, albeit indirectly. Gale was simply lashing out to the nearest source of his current discomfort at the moment...which just so happened to be the injured vulture. "You may not have been here long Mortimer, but a bird as old as you should clearly see what the hell happens when wolves around here are honest with how they're feeling- they get distrusted, demoted, or worse yet exiled!" Gale's once relaxed position had shifted into one of defense, he was now sitting up with his long limbs shaking from exhaustion as he struggled to keep his cool.

Mortimer was caught off guard when it came to Gale's slight outburst, but he merely blinked as the distance between the pair grew ever so slightly. The last thing he needed was to have this wolf's fit of repressed rage taken out on him. "Ah...so 'angry' is definitely an emotion I am picking up on." Mortimer muttered with offhanded sarcasm as Gale shifted to turn away from the bird. Though it was true, Mortimer may not have been here for long...it was clear he came during a strange and uneasy time for Fellfang. Still, now he wanted to keep poking this proverbial bear, to get more than the usual servile hunter he normally saw. To say his curiosity was piqued would be an understatement. "If you're so miserable here...then why do you stay?"

As Mortimer posed the question that had been nagging Gale in the back of his mind for many moons now, his stare seemed to drift to a place far away.

Dearest Gale, why do you remain among these wolves that would throw you out on the whim of a child just because of who his mother is?

Just when Gale thought things couldn't get worse...Mother's voice rang internally to him. His gaze flickered towards the treeline as he finally noticed her ethereal presence in the distance...just behind Mortimer.

They will never care for you as you do them. Why do you bother?

"I..." Gale's words were trapped in his throat, why did he remain when with each passing day he struggled to see Fellfang as the pack he once remembered? One where honor and justice were held in high regards...now reduced to...whatever this was. Did he even have a right to be upset? He washed ashore during one of the most tumultuous times in the pack's history, trapped by the hive only to be barely saved by the mercy of other packs in the area. Did he ever really know what Fellfang was truly about? Had they really lost their ways or had his eyes just finally been open to what his mother had tried to warn him of all along?

This is not your home Gale...

This is my home... Valera and Nephele saved me. Illsa, Tadita, Cacao, Kekoa, and Cadell...they've all been-

You're deluding yourself my beloved boy.

It's not delusion, this is my-

Your home is with me...

"Damn it all, just leave me be!" His voice cracked like thunder, startling Mortimer back a few feet from his sudden, more violent outburst after what felt like an eternity of silence.

Morimer stared at Gale in a confused daze for a moment before his own anger got the better of him. The vulture hissed in frustration, not even realizing that Gale wasn't speaking to him. He huffed heavily before finally speaking, "You act so self-sacrificing, hunting for others despite your own hunger but... you're not as good of a wolf as you'd like to think you are- you only take care of others' problems just to outrun your own! Anyone with half a mind could see it if they just looked at you for more than five minutes!" Mortimer was seething, the one time he tried being nice and to give the boy a place to vent his frustrations just blew up in his face. He really didn't like that... "But if you keep putting everyone before yourself boy, there won't be any of you left. These feelings of yours will eat you alive and leave only a husk." The vulture warned Gale as he began to hop in the direction of Starheim. He had enough of this for one day, honestly... "And when you inevitably wind up alone...you won't even have yourself to fall back on." With these cryptic words Mortmer let out a final, indignant hiss at Gale before hobbling back into the caves.

After Mortimer lashed back at him, Gale's maw was slightly ajar- wanting so desperately to argue back...but once again his voice was held back by his own inhibitions. He hadn't meant to let his internal argument with mother seep outside his mind. Still...it had. His head hung low in shame, Mortimer was just showing some kind of concern...or at least interest at the bare minimum. Then Gale just threw it right back in the vulture's face. Mortimer was right...on all fronts- he wasn't a very good wolf...was he?

Gale's mouth opened once more to attempt to call out to the bird that was making his way back to Starheim's entrance...but no words would come out. He closed his maw, gritting it tightly as his head hung low. Leaning his head against the invisible force that haunted him, he truly felt as if he was losing his mind. Even if he drove those that seemingly cared about him away...at least he could take some sort of warped sense of comfort in the fact that Mortimer was wrong about one thing.

It will be alright my dear...

He would never be alone.

I promise.

Not as long as Mother was there...

Gale, Mortimer, art, and writing (C) Weasele .