[Seth Perry]

Animals, evidence
Pearly gates look more like a picket fence

(in the past - beginning of spring)

---

Springtime in the forest was almost magical. There were more fish swimming in the river, more animals running around the underbrush, and it was almost a constant cacophony of birds singing. Flowers were blooming everywhere, and the lush greens of the grass and leaves never seemed brighter.

Along with that came other campers, and the visitors who came out to the national forest for day trips. A couple days ago, she had noticed a family who was bringing their small kids out, presumably for a weekend camping trip. They’d brought fishing poles, coolers of food, and a tent the size of a small house. But they clearly didn’t know how their kids were going to react to nature.

They didn’t even make it the entire night before they packed up and headed back to town, unable to keep their little ones from screaming about the bugs and dirt that surrounded them. Seth was disappointed when they remembered to pack up everything that they’d brought with them.

Now it was nearing midday and the sun was hanging high overhead. Seth was more or less alone again. The weekend was over, so most people had their daily lives to get back to. It made sense. But Seth was bored today. She could usually entertain herself well enough, but she was out of things to do around her own campsite. She'd tended her garden, tidied up her tent and the surrounding area, and visited the nearby campsites to see if anyone had left behind anything useful. No luck.

In order to keep herself from scrolling through the photo album in her phone for the millionth time, Seth decided a hike was in order. After a couple hours of hiking through the trees, veering off the defined hiking trails and going towards the edge of the forest, Seth found her way to a cabin. She’d been out this way before, she knew it belonged to the park ranger, John, but she’d always kept a distance, not wanting to bother him.

Maybe it was the loneliness getting to her today, or the boredom. Either way, she made it closer. She could see the wilted plants around the front of the cabin, weeds overgrown all around. Clearly, landscaping had been neglected for a long time. She supposed it made sense, with a backdrop like the forest, who would focus on their yard?

She just couldn’t help herself. Seth got closer, and started picking some of the weeds. She could use her ability, but she didn’t like to use it to get rid of plants, even weeds that were choking the life out of other plants. After pulling up a few of the weeds, Seth got distracted. The door to the garage was open. Was John in there, working on a project or kicking back and relaxing? She didn’t see a sign of him outside, so she wandered over to the open door.

”Hello?” Seth called, as she walked through the open door. No answer. She looked around, and still didn’t see a sign of John there. Weird. Maybe he just didn’t bother to close up, since he was so remote out here.

Seth turned to walk back out of the garage, but she stopped when she saw his fishing gear, stacked against a corner of the garage. Several poles, a tackle box, and other odds and ends. Seth bit her lip and thought about how the pole she’d been using, the one that used to be Jasons and had gotten them through the last several years, had finally broken. She’d been trying to use a small net that they had, but wasn’t having any success with it. Would he notice if one of the poles went missing?

Walking back out of the garage, Seth took another look around. She didn’t see John anywhere. Maybe he wouldn’t care? Besides, it wasn’t like it was his only pole she’d be stealing borrowing (without permission).

She walked back into the garage and looked at the gear again. She picked up what looked like an older pole, just a standard one. Surely, he wouldn’t really miss it, with the other poles and equipment he had. And she really could use some protein back in her diet, not just the berries and vegetables she’d been able to find or grow. She made up her mind, and grabbed the fishing pole.

Seth didn’t run off, she just made her way calmly back to the river bank closest to her campsite. There was no better time to test it out than the present.

---

John Whitlock
Let me know if I should change anything about the set up or if I got any details wrong or assumed too much!

[John Whitlock]

[nospaces]

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[attr="class","eagletalon-title"]i stand on a ledge in hell[break]

still howling for our love

"Baby, are you awake? John... can we go get food?"[break][break]

The voice was meek and quiet; a hushed combination of whine and imploration. Its fragile inflection sent pinpricks of cold, numbing pain into John's (otherwise unfeeling) fatigue. But he was too disoriented — reeling from the recesses of sleep — to yet acknowledge why. Drowsily, he blinked open his eyes to find the soft, blurry outline of his wife, crouched beside their bed in front of him. Her red-brown curls half concealed the pale roundness of her face, made featureless by the sticky remnants of fuzzy unconsciousness that clung to his gaze. He didn't need to glance at the nightstand to know the hour — she almost always shook him awake at roughly the same time every night. Her morning sicknesses had become like clockwork, her trips to the bathroom scheduled, and her strange, late-night cravings routine. [break][break]

John breathed deep; sucking in a long exhale as he propped himself onto stiff elbows. "Mmh, okay my love... just... give me a moment," he mumbled, reaching for a soft, reassuring tone and nearly failing in his drowsiness — managing only to sound tired. Eyes closed and moving slow, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, crouched over, with his head bent; readying himself for a convincing, nightly display of doting husband and father-to-be. But as he pressed his hands to his eyes and began to rub the sleep from them, sense finally began its unwelcome creep back into his mind. [break][break]

Remembering was a heavy stone in his gut; an icy, painful resignation followed closely behind by a burning numbness. When his feet touched down to the chilly, wooden floor, a shock knifed through his veins and he stilled; hands pressed to his eyes but no longer rubbing lazy circles. Slowly, and with a grim certainty, he brought them down his face, knowing those red-brown curls were no longer there. That his wife had disappeared. That she hadn't nudged him awake in years. [break][break]

After staring for a terribly-long moment at the empty space where she should have been, John finally forced his gaze to the nightstand. Although the clock face was nearly obscured by a half-dozen pill bottles, he knew the red numbers announced a bleak three-forty-something. As his feet grew cold against the floor and the numbness subsided enough for him to notice, he became aware that his dim room was uncomfortably still and painstakingly quiet. So he focused on the steady beat of his heart while his hands fell from his face and to either side of him, limp and heavy on soft sheets. Not even a minute passed before his mind grew weary of his heart and he gave up counting the solid thrums — began, instead, to wander and think; something he wasn't quite ready for. Didn't want. So, before his thoughts could become inevitably tortuous, he pinched his lips into a grimace and reached for one of the pill bottles. [break][break]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[break]

The sun had crawled its way high into the sky by the time John made it back to his cabin. It'd been dark still when he'd all but fled it, unable to make himself lie back down in his empty bed and count the slow hours that drug by. It had been far easier to pass the dawn in the dark of the forest, flitting between the trees on massive paws. His wolf form provided some small relief; hollowing out the tiniest bit of his restless mind to fill it with baser instinct. He stilled at every sound — every broken twig and rustled branch — mouth parted, ears perked, and eyes flitting, thinking little else beyond identifying the noise's source. [break][break]

Now, as he plodded up the few steps of his front porch, his eye caught upon a small stack of weeds pulled up and piled just off the landing, soil clinging in clumps to their roots. He straightened and shifted his weight, nails ticking on the chipped, weather-worn wood beneath him as he perked his ears and let his parted maw click audibly closed. He cast a quick glance toward his closed door. Had someone visited him? A fellow ranger, perhaps, with some sort of news or task? Blackstorm? Were they in there now? He never bothered locking up the cabin. Not only was he unafraid of people stopping by, but figured a locked door would hardly deter anyone — if someone truly wanted in, alternatives weren't difficult, and he didn't feel much like replacing door jambs or broken window panes if it could be avoided. [break][break]

But if someone was inside, he supposed he'd have to wait them out. Spying a large, shaggy wolf on his front porch would certainly be a surprise. But he imagined him stepping into his home, completely naked and reeking of forest musk, would be even more so. Snorting, he let his jaws part to test the air, drawing in the scents around him. Almost immediately — beneath the overwhelming presence of his own smell and Crosshair's, as well as the fainter, older scent of Lydia (a fellow warden and the only other person who had a habit of passing through unannounced) — he recognized Seth. It seemed she hadn't lingered too long. [break][break]

He didn't know much about the girl. Could only guess at why she'd spent months in the forest. They'd spoken only a handful of times — mostly when he stopped by her campsite to ensure she was aware of incoming bad weather or to advise her of predator spottings and other threats. But he made sure to keep an eye on her more quietly as well; including her neck of the woods on almost all of his patrols, be they official or not. In his truck or on his paws. Working a radius around her campsite, sniffing for dangerous animals that might wander too close. Flying through the treetops during the night when he knew other campers were close, wary that some might drink themselves to belligerence and think to harass her. The forest could be a treacherous place, be it from other people or nature itself, and it wasn't a place he liked to imagine a young, lone girl braving alone. [break][break]

Still, she seemed competent and content enough on most days that he glimpsed her, so John didn't badger her much. There had been a couple of times when he'd caught her unawares and witnessed her more skittish side, though. And it was those glimpses, most of all, that made him innately vigilant on her behalf. [break][break]

Why had she stopped by? Just to say hello? To report something? Perhaps she was hungry or needed a ride into town. The fact that she'd paused to pull some of the weeds about his neglected yard made him think it wasn't urgent. And there was no scent of blood or fear on the air to make it obvious she was in more stated trouble. Leaping from the porch, John sniffed about the plants and then raised his head to peer up at his garage. It seemed she'd made her way there. After straining his ears for a long moment, body poised with his listening, he decided that she'd truly gone and huffed. [break][break]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[break]

After a quick shower, a handful of aspirin, and a couple cups of black coffee (both of them further embittered by generous splashes of liquor), John finally made his way to his garage. At first, it seemed like nothing was missing. When he realized why — because the pole she'd taken was undoubtedly the worst of them — rather than being upset or annoyed, he was only vaguely amused. After musing for a bit, he pulled a better pole from the wall, packed a bag with other supplies, and started off toward her camp.[break][break]

He came across her on his way there. As soon as he picked out her figure along the riverbank, not wanting to startle her, he called out. "Hey!" She glanced in his direction and he lifted his hand in a wave. When he got closer, he unshouldered the pack he was carrying and fixed her with an appraising look. Weight shifted on one leg, brow lifted, and a hand — the one not holding a fishing pole — settled on his hip. Almost as if he were considering whether to be angry or just disappointed. It was a look he'd practiced in the mirror dozens of times while Eliza chortled and threw stuff at him from their bed across the room. "Putting on his Dad-face" he'd called it. She'd said he only looked gassy.[break][break]

His eye pulled to the pole in her hands and his lifted brow fell as he shucked his shoulders with an exaggerated sigh. "Any luck? I could never keep the line from piling no matter what I did. Paw's busted and the bearings are old." Brow quirking now, he looked back at her and raised the pole in his hands. "If you're gonna nab something, might as well nab something that actually works." He held it out. "Trade?"

Tag: Seth Perry [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

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[Seth Perry]

Animals, evidence
Pearly gates look more like a picket fence

(in the past - beginning of spring)

---

Seth wasn’t sure how long she’d been at the river’s edge. She was having no success catching a fish. She had never been the most skilled fisher to begin with, it had always been Jason who could go out and catch them a couple decent sized fish in no time. Even though she wasn’t nearly as good at it as he was, she could usually catch something, with enough time. She didn’t know if it was the spot she’d chosen, or the fact that she couldn’t quite seem to get a hang on how this pole worked. She had to be doing something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what.

When she heard John call out to her, Seth’s first thought was to run off, but what good would that do? It wasn’t like he wouldn’t just find her at her campsite.

One look at him and it was clear, he already knew.. She felt guilt well up inside. She didn’t know him too well, but he’d always been nice to her. Even if he hadn't already known, she was currently using the pole she’d taken from his garage, so there wouldn’t be any denying what she’d done.

John had the same look on his face that her dad used to get before he was about to give her a lecture. Her dad would be so disappointed in her if he knew that she had taken something that wasn’t hers. She could just imagine the lecture that he would give her right now.

Seth shook her head when he asked if she’d had any luck, then he held out the better pole to her offering to trade it and Seth felt the guilt in her stomach grow. She should have known better, she could have just waited for him and asked him. She accepted his offer, even so.

”I’m sorry..” She didn’t have any excuse to offer, no good reason why she’d taken from him instead of just asking. ”You’re not mad?” She asked, hoping he truly wasn’t upset with her.

---

John Whitlock
Let me know for changes. This feels painfully short, so let me know if you need more to work with.