Mac Tire Caillte
The woods were thick with fog. It hung heavy and wet, sticking to his cloak and plastering his hair to his cheek and beard. For all that the night was bitter, he felt roasty and hot in his layers with the fog's sweat rolling down under his collar. It was not a night to be out of hearth's reach. Thom said a silent curse, mindful that his Mairy would not like it if he were to take up foul words even this far distant. He put two fingers in his mouth and gave a low whistle to pull the pack into him. He was fairly certain they could make do where they were and absolutely certain only a fool would try to find another place to camp in this soup. Gradually he felt the bump and nuzzle of the hounds as they each came and nudged him in turn. He counted them off, rubbing their scruffy hides and feeling for signs that would tell him which hound he was dealing with. It was not as hard as one might think. His pack had seen better days perhaps, and certainly had their quirks. Young Conn and Coll stood tallest among them, their heads nigh as tall as his collar-bone if truth be told. He could barely tell the two apart in the thick fog. If it were not for the strange notch just on the foreleg on the older pup he wouldn't have been able to. Then there was Kevin, the oldest of the males, a brindle hound rounded with muscle and good on the hunt. This one had a notch out of his left ear where a hare had fought back a year or so ago. Finn, a fine wiry haired grey, with a whip snap temper and speed to match had but a snub of a tail from being caught up in a trap when he was only two, several summers ago. And of course there was Cait, the mother of the two youngest and tallest in the pack. He would have to see about getting another female as Cait was not breeding anymore. That was yet another puzzle. No time to dwell on that. They were all here.
He swung is pack off his shoulder and dug about getting out some biscuits for his rabble. He gave them each one in turn and told them softly that they should stay put. Then he felt about on the ground and made a small patch clear so that he could lay out his own bed. Though it was still somewhat light out, he tucked himself in and rolled over, the blanket up over his head, determined to sleep off the ghastly fog. He could sense the hounds moving about and found himself peering over his blanket. Cait rooted around the edges of the small area, the others pawed at a few trees or bushes. Eventually the males settled down near larger trees at the outermost edges of his sight, which must have been not more than 3 feet away. Cait slipped over to him and nosed his arm up, crawling under and laying down beside him as if it were her right. He did not normally allow the hounds this kind of arrangement. If he could not do so for all , he did it for none. But he was tired and bitter cold to the bone, so he hauled her in closer and let sleep take him.
Thom was too far gone in sleep to notice it when Kevin, Finn and the younger hounds rose and began to sniff the wind. The fog was roiling around, almost as if it was a pot on the boil. The naked eye could see it whirling first one way and then turning to spin in the opposite direction. The scents that are normally carried peaceably along where beginning to get muddled as everything jumbled together on the strange mixed-up current. Shafts of light and dark ran like broken daggers into the fog's whirling dervish making it almost seem like a dance the winds had kicked up without any musical invitation. The hounds gave a low gutteral whine. They did not like the feel or scent of this at all. The two youngest, a blond and a grey, pawed at the ground and howled.
Yet Thom and Cait slept on. As the tempo of the foggy dance increased, the two young hounds became more agitated. Finally they broke free of their pawing dance and started toward the sleepers. They found each step thrust them backward as the wind within the fog pressed against them rather then propelling them forward. They pushed against the wind with all the muscle and determination they had trying to made it to Thom and Cait's side. Simultaneously they reached out with their muzzles and nosed at their mother. As they made contact with their jowls, three things happened. First her eyes suddenly came wide open; second, they were virtually thrown out of the small clearing and finally, Thom and Cait seemed to vanish before the young hound's eyes. It happened so quickly that it seemed impossible that it had happened at all. One moment, Thom and Cait were there, asleep and the next, they were gone. The two young hounds picked themselves up and ran back to the clearing. Kevin and Finn, the older hounds, looked at them in astonishment. Or at least that is what Conn and Coll assumed,the blond and the grey staring from the knoll to the older hounds looking for answers that clearly were not going to be given.
Then the strange wind suddenly stopped and the fog began to separate. The hounds circled about and then finally lay down in the clearing. It took the better part of the day for the fog to dissipate completely. Yet when it was gone the clearing hardly seemed any different. Thom and Cait were still missing, and not a single one of the hounds had moved. Conn flashed an image at Coll which seemed to be a hazy picture of Thom and Cait together and of them not being in the clearing. Coll sent back an empty spot. Apparently he did not have any ideas about what had happened either. Coll sent an image of Mairy. Conn turned to look directly at Coll. They agreed on that, they should go home. But they would have to wait for the others. Kevin was the lead hound, and by right of the pack would choose the path they took unless challenged. It was not a time for challenging.
They waited there on the clearing through to the next day. Finally, Kevin stood and began to lead them away. The two young pups wanted to move with speed, but Kevin and Finn took the journey at their own pace. It would take at least three days to get back to the cabin in the woods with the soft padding tread the lead hound was setting. Thom and Cait would be missing a long time before Mairy even knew. Though what could be done when a person is taken by a fog and a wind the younger hounds did not know. And of course there was the issue of getting Mairy to know that was what had happened. The difficulty of their plight having become more real to them, they young hounds found themselves slowing and falling in to the steady padding rhythm that Kevin had set for the journey. They would likely need all the time they had to figure this muddle out.
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