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+---- Thread: Red Fern Forest Falter (/showthread.php?tid=14556)
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RE: Falter - Rowan - Apr 20, 2017
The creek babbled an uneven song, water cascading around and against the ice that had formed in some parts and waned in others. His dull gold gaze watched the disruptions in the water as the rain pelleted the surface, the ripples careening into and avoiding one another. Eyes flickering from the water to his companion his focus held on her form, still as the grave knelt at the bank, knowing that what he'd asked her could easily be considered a red flag to an uneasy wolf. In their shared silence he came to terms with the fact that she might excuse herself, unwilling to divulge anything to a stranger like Rowan.
But he was pleasantly surprised when she didn't dismiss him, answering his question with one of the option he'd provided before gently pushing herself up with only a soft noise of complaint. A moment passed and the Attaya male wondered if that was all she was going to say, but the ashen wolf turned to meet his eyes directly and continued. Dark ears tilted forward, intent to listen carefully, as he understood what he was hearing was privileged information. Like he hadn't told her what had befallen his family, she didn't describe the misunderstanding - but the withheld confession told him enough. He would not pry.
Her eyes trailed down toward the forepaw that gave her grief, perhaps thinking of running once more. "What you run from - is it close? Is it recent? If not, consider this the end of it - right now. You don't need to fix a misunderstanding to leave it behind." His tone was soft, the advice he offered genuine, as though he were speaking to himself. And he was, in some way. "The guilt and the grief will do more harm to you than any wolf could." He had a feeling Kuwindwa had already discovered this - that storm cloud in her head likely felt worse than a sore paw.
RE: Falter - Kuwindwa - Apr 20, 2017
It all begged the question: what would constitute the end of it? When could she ever be certain pursuit had ceased? She had stopped seeing physical signs... would it take seeing them dead to ease her spirit? Their forgiveness (though she thought bitterly she had done no wrong by them)? Understanding? She would have none of those things. So she would have to keep moving. She would have to keep running a while longer. And her paw – her paw had to get better so she could continue on. Besides, hunting would be difficult if it wasn't better within a few days, and if she didn't eat by then the weakness wouldn't benefit her.
Rowan pulled her out of her thoughts. It was almost as if he'd read her mind. He seemed reflective, his words drawn inward as much as they were directed outward to the woman. Kuwindwa could feel the weight of his statement pressing down on her aching body almost physically. Grief had become her constant companion, one whose company was the only company she had kept for a long while. When grief left, fear came in its stead, though Kuwindwa did not recognize the new face he wore. Somewhere in the far reaches of her mind, Kuwindwa knew the rightness of Rowan's words; she needed to stop running, acknowledge her fear and say farewell to it... but not yet. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was pride, an unwillingness to change. Kuwindwa had always been rather averse to change, and now her life was constantly fluctuating between fear and sorrow, she had no home, and never stayed anywhere more than a few days. She could not let go of the fear yet, even if she yearned for it.
This time, Kuwindwa did not answer his questions. She could not bring herself to acknowledge them.
"The guilt and the grief will do more harm to you than any wolf could."
"Yes. Yes it will," she agreed softly. She wondered what had brought Rowan to that conclusion, what he might have faced. "It sounds like you've some experience." She did not ask directly if he was running, or why he had to seek out his family. She left her comment simple – simple and open.
RE: Falter - Rowan - Apr 22, 2017
sry for this novel Rowan just had a LOT TO SAY
Silence followed what little wisdom he had after parting it on to his present companion. In studying the she-wolf's profile he could see it was not because she disagreed, or didn't understand. It more so appeared that she could not or perhaps didn't want to, respond to such a concept immediately. After all, it was a big ask to tell someone they needed to stop feeling the way they did. For purposes of deflection, or perhaps genuine curiosity, when Kuwindwa did finally speak she came to a simply-stated conclusion that let Rowan fill the space to follow. His black muzzle fell toward the ground as he considered this indirect query; after a beat, he lifted it once more.
"If you travel north of this forest," he started, his eyes slowly trailing in the aforementioned direction. "No more than a day's journey, there stands a roaring waterfall, alive even in the thickest winter. It is difficult to find, shrouded by the surrounding forest, but with a sharp ear it can be located - some call them Secret Falls. The stream that feeds the falls is joined by a wild and deep river, punctuated by white rapids, too dangerous to cross in most places. That is where I was born." He paused long enough to run his tongue over his pale teeth, inhaling a sharp breath and exhaling it. His words did not yet indicate an answer to her question, his mind quietly considering the option he still had to opt out of the heavy story. But what good would it do to bring it up and shoot it back down again? He decided to pursue.
"When I was only a few months old the rapids came for us. There was a flood... the dark water threatened to carry us all away. I was so small, I couldn't stand up. The pack Guardian saved my sisters, but my parents and my brother and I... we were lost to it. I was separated from them. I don't- I can't remember what happened, just the black water, and drowning."
Suddenly he felt the water in his throat again and he was forced to stop speaking, silver-threaded hackles rising in visceral reaction. Sound drowned from his ears as he recalled the deafening roar of the rapids approaching, and the absolute stillness when he had been forced under - silent as the grave. Shutting his golden gaze for only a moment, Rowan made himself follow the advice he suggested for her. It'd never go away - he lived with the memory of that night and forever would. But it was in the past. He opened his eyes and watched the calm trickle of the half-frozen stream in front of them, and cast a sidelong glance toward the she-wolf as the memory dissipated from his mind's eye. As he spoke his words grew almost desperate, wishing that the reality wasn't as he described it. "Since that day, for three years now, I have tried to find my family, over and over again. And I have. Not my brother, or my mother and father, but I've seen my sisters, in this land. They made it back here just as I did. But every time we promise to be there for each other... I leave. They leave. We are always searching for something, always without saying goodbye."
He turned his head to meet the bronze eyes of Kuwindwa, hoping that he might finally articulate the point. "I have spent my whole life trying to be an Attaya by seeking out the others. But we cannot be that family that we wanted to be. That family died that night by the rapids. We've only been chasing phantoms. We gain nothing by pretending. So... I stopped pretending." He blinked, letting his tarnished gold eyes fall to examine his dark paws at the admission. It was not enough for him to just be someone's brother, someone's son. Because he yearned for more, and it kept taking him away from his sisters. Of course he felt guilty for the way he'd promised to be around, only to disappear. Perhaps it was a promise he should have never made. At least then he would have been honest.
That was all he strove to be now - honest. Letting go of the future he had wanted, and of the past which had pained him, took more than a conversation with a stranger among red ferns. But it had brought him to peace, or at least something close to it, and that was what he wanted her to know.
His dark jaws felt tired from how much he'd flapped them, though when he inhaled a deep breath he noticed a weight he'd been ignoring was lifted, as though the wall of words he'd just barraged upon his poor companion's ears had destroyed the familial boulder sitting on his chest. That feeling brought with it another - something oddly relieving. He didn't feel overjoyed to have just shared his one big problem with a stranger, but he did feel much lighter knowing that he understood himself for perhaps the first time in his life. Sparing a glance upward toward the female, he wondered if he'd imparted any such feeling relief on her.
RE: Falter - Kuwindwa - Apr 22, 2017
No worries! It is beautifully written. :) Now, if I can just get mine out right. xD Wind is hard to write sometimes when family is involved.
He didn't have to answer. No, Rowan didn't have to say anything and Kuwindwa would have understood. She had shared very little, and thought she would share no more. She watched his muzzle fall from the corner of her eye, and when he spoke she didn't move immediately, as if she thought she might frighten him into silence. It wasn't long after he began that he paused and Kuwindwa thought he might cease his telling altogether, but he pressed onward and what he said next made Kuwindwa wish briefly that she had never asked, for her sake and his. He looked shaken as he relived what he could remember... the way his hackles raised, had to pause like he couldn't breathe. Kuwindwa looked away, unable to look upon him in such a vulnerable moment. Her own heart clenched as she remembered something else entirely, and she wondered- but no, she had to remain here, in the present. Her haunches sank to the wet ground, a different heaviness clutching at her even as Rowan felt himself lighten.
She'd failed as a guardian. She'd failed, failed, failed... They drowned. A family was broken, torn apart... and they blamed her.
It was a strange connection she felt, a connection where there should be none. She imagined, for just a moment... if those babes had lived. Would any of them have grown into a wolf like Rowan Attaya? No. No, they would have grown up loved by their mother and father, and Wawindaji would have protected them like her own.
Kuwindwa kept her face carefully in check, but her heart trembled and for a moment she forgot physical pain in favor of shattered emotions. The sorrow that flashed across her face might have been for those puppies, but it lingered as she contemplated Rowan once more. This wasn't about her. This was about him, and a question she'd asked, and an answer he was too gracious for giving. And she would listen, and offer what she could, and maybe she couldn't fix his broken family, or the broken family she left behind, but maybe she could offer... something.
She recognized herself in his words.
"I believe you are wise." Kuwindwa spoke softly, her gaze turning to the water... singing sweetly of life, but she knew how it had taken. "Wiser than I." As she whispered those words, she heaved a soft sigh. She was pretending, and had for so long the line between who she was, is, and should be was blurred past recognition... so she would keep pretending. She would never be Wawindaji was dead. Still, when she looked up at Rowan again her eyes were almost warm and the smile she offered was genuine, though she wondered if it could offer any comfort or peace. She felt none. "Where I came from, your name – and your family name – carried weight. One was expected to uphold that burden with honor. For a long time I believed family was nothing more than name and blood." She didn't want to patronize the male across from, so she paused. "...I no longer think that way." Family is more than just name and blood. She had learned this truth by experience and tried to live by it. Her pack was her family. Her charges, her kin. Those children, her nieces and nephews. And thus the betrayal had hurt that much more...
Kuwindwa hesitated before rising again, this time managing to remain utterly silent – she was far from miraculously healed. "I apologize for prying," she bowed her muzzle, "but thank you. For telling me." She knew what it was to seek something you could never have, to have your purpose so clear before you, and realize it was suddenly gone, or different than you thought.
RE: Falter - Rowan - Apr 24, 2017
ah no I love your writing! You have a really great voice with Wind.
The she-wolf's patience was received with gratitude that she had listened to him tell his story in its truth and in its entirety. When her voice joined the silence that settled after his story it was soft, and honest. Rowan twisted a dark ear at the thought that he was wise in some way, choosing to agree with her though he was unsure if his life experiences named in such reverence. The smile she wore when her bronze eyes met his own was certainly clear enough to help him believe. Rowan noticed the brightness in her eyes was different when she looked at him this time. Perhaps this was the before version of Kuwindwa, returned to the surface for just a brief stay.
She spoke again, revealing the burden of a family name was familiar to her as well. The affirmation that the way he felt was comparable to her own experiences provided the ink-legged wolf further respite that he wasn't the only one living the truth that blood was only what you made of it - not the be-all end-all of a wolf's existence. It had certainly been a while since he'd met a wolf who wasn't standing on their last name's pedestal with their head held so high they couldn't see the shadows beneath. Reveling in the stillness that surrounded them, Rowan wondered if it would be too far to ask her where she intended to go in the Lore. His thoughts broke at the quiet sound of the forest floor rustling when Kuwindwa rose, prompting Rowan to quickly pick himself up on his four. He felt a mild guilt at her movement; he should have been the one to leave so she could keep the weight off of her sore paw longer.
A wry chuckle rose from the dust-colored male's throat as she thanked him for the barrage of emotions he'd expelled at her, prompting a wry. The chuckle faded out quickly, replaced with a look of sincerity. "Thank you for listening," the Attaya returned, his gravel-toned voice low but genuine. She was the first wolf he'd ever told all of this to, and a complete stranger no less. Perhaps it made him feel safer to impart the darkest part of his heart on someone who could never hold it over him, because he'd never see her again. It was realistic to assume this would be the first and last time they crossed paths - but he found himself with the quiet hope that maybe it wouldn't be true.
Tilting his cheek to one side, his golden eyes searched the mist that began to swirl in the forest. "I can see the end from here," he said, a wide and toothless smile developing upon his blackened muzzle. "Can't you?" Even if she was not able to stop running tonight, or tomorrow, Rowan believed in her. She would be free from that which haunted her.
But first, she would be free of his company - so that he might not stop her from wherever it was she intended to go. Turning away from his companion, Rowan met her gaze with a line of sincerity. "I wish you all the best on your journey, Kuwindwa." Then - quickly, as he always was so shit with goodbyes - the lanky male would retreat into the red ferns which surrounded them and let the mist shroud his exit as he continued on a path apart from his ally.
-exit Rowan-
RE: Falter - Kuwindwa - Apr 24, 2017
Thank you for listening.
It was the least she could do. It was a small kindness this man had offered: leading her to water and reminding her that she was more than some shadow of a wolf, a has-been warrior. She owed him that much... a listening ear, a repayment. Not that it had been a burden to listen to his tale; it had been painful in a way, but... to look at him, there seemed some weight lifted from his face. The sidelong glance he shared with her after rising to his paws seemed to carry a hopeful undertone.
A thin smile formed on Kuwindwa's muzzle as she bowed her head.
Rowan wished her well on her way and before she could reciprocate he was gone into the mist, leaving the woman blinking owlishly after him. When she was alone again, Kuwindwa chuckled, her pale face softening briefly. He was here and gone, as quickly as he'd come. She didn't even have a chance to properly thank him for leading her here... just half-uttered words before. It was good to know there was a kindred spirit out here, in the wilds of a land she was unfamiliar with. He might not be present to hear it, but she spoke her farewell in any case, as if it were a prayer to guide the young man: "Windsong's peace to you, Rowan Attaya. Fare thee well and may your path be true."
Turning back to the forest, Kuwindwa steeled herself for the continuation of her journey. She hobbled briefly before gaining her balance. She would find shelter for a few hours and rest herself. She would mend, and her trek would continue, twisting and wending, never ending. The hardened expression that had become a part of her being – her mask – slipped back into place. Onward.
Kuwindwa exit.