Skeletal Hill the more i want in the less i know [BWP]

It had been almost a week since the conversation with her siblings had forced mabel to stop ignoring the problem at home between her parents. The problem was, now that she wasn’t in denial it was all she could think about, not even her escapades out of the territory could clear her head anymore. But, that didn’t mean she wasn’t trying. Now that the Donata litter were less than a month away from being yearlings they had as many rights and freedoms as any other adult member of the pack, and also the responsibilities.

That meant when she had spent last night out of the territory she wouldn’t be in trouble and when she had woken up Mabel hadn’t even considered going back. She knew where she was going and had told her parents she was going to visit the Edge to see her friend. This had been accepted, a short scouting trip shouldn’t take her more than two and a half days, three at most round trip. The Bend had noticed an increase in coyote scent sure, but so far they had had no run ins of any violent nature.

Cream paws carried her frantically, Mabel had a pressing question to ask and it just couldn’t wait. The Donata had been in such a hurry she didn’t notice the drop in temperature, or the eeriness of her surroundings - or maybe she was immune after being raised in the blue mist. What she did notice was the familiar smell of her friend, strange they always seemed to find each other out of their respective territories. Without doing any formal greeting she blurted the second her brown eyes landed on him, ”Sachiel,l I don’t know if the Bend is home anymore, what do I do?”

Sachiel was usually composed. Cool, calm and collected; a genuine good boy. He could be a little hotheaded on occasion—stubborn, even. But he seldom got scared. Fear only seemed to consume the tawny youth when he believed his partner in crime’s life was in danger, or that something was going to happen to one of his three dads.

Or when a pastel pink and lavender girl appeared out of nowhere and blurted her own fears into his face.

There was no hello. No warning. Just silence and the scuffle of paws against the ground. At first he feared that he had encountered another coyote, but the familiar face (and scent) eased his troubled thoughts.

But not soon enough.

The boy still jumped nearly a foot off the ground and stumbled backward, his eyes wide as his vision went yellow-orange-black for a moment before familiar shades of lilac appeared. Mabel. Shit, May, he cursed as his expression softened, a weary, lopsided grin tugging at his dark lips as his tail wagged weakly behind him. Why do y’think that? He asked, his chin canting to the side as he studied the frantic girl. He’d never seen like this before. Usually she was filled to the brim with contagious energy but this—this was unfamiliar territory for the tawny Selwyn.

The Donata had not meant to scare her friend and make him scramble back away from her. But, it was kind of funny and so Mabel smirked anyways, she might have felt badly if his expression hadn’t softened. She was still having a crisis but nobody had ever called her May before and she decided that she kind of liked it. Nobody was tense or fought around May, that was only for Mabel when she was at home.

But, she couldn’t dwell too long on her new favourite nickname before he dragged her back to the reality of what she had just said. Suddenly she wasn’t sure how to explain it, ”I don’t know. My parents just fight all the time but pretend they don’t when we’re around and Ayla can barely get through the day anymore, it’s like her head is in the stars.” That probably didn’t make much sense but it was the best that she could come up with. Mabel - for that’s who she was when she was consumed with her parent’s tense relationship was about to continue and explain her theory that it was her younger siblings to be’s fault when she became aware something was wrong.

Creamy ears flicked backwards at the sounds of growling and yipping and Mabel realized the scent of blood and deer hung heavy in the air. What was more concerning was the fact that besides the prey the scent of vermin was laced all the way through it. How had she not noticed it before? How long had they been this close to a group of coyotes and why weren’t they running away? Glancing over her shoulder brown eyes landed on the forms of three coyotes approaching them, clearly aiming for some kind of a fight. Side stepping so that her flank was pressed against Sachiel’s her own tail curled over her back and her hackles stiffened.

Normally this should have made them back down. Two large wolves should have deterred them but instead this only seemed to egg them on further. May’s eyebrows furrowed in haughty confusion, ”What the hell?” Why weren’t they leaving?

Her colours were more muted this time, paler versions of themselves and muddled together; a clear sign of the confusion that she felt within herself. She had been so intrigued—almost shocked—when she had found out that Sachiel had left the Vale behind. That he had left his home. He would never picture her to do the same, or even consider it. But he knew it wasn’t fair to judge a wolf by the mask they wore. He could have appeared happy back in the Vale, too. Maybe it was why she had been so surprised to find out he had left the orange trees behind.

The boy listened patiently to his friend, his expression softening as his ears cupped forward to catch every word that tumbled from her tongue. He knew from personal experience what it was like to have parents that didn’t get along. Neha and Draven had always put on a loving front for Sachiel, and for awhile he believed that they truly cared for each other, but after awhile their colours began to change. Their colours no longer complimented each other and, over time, began to clash. He could tell something was wrong without either parent admitting it, and it appeared as though Mabel was in the same boat. Family doesn’t make a place home, he hummed in response in an attempt to comfort his ivory friend. You don’t have t’stay—not if y’don’t want to. He didn’t want to talk her into leaving, not if that wasn’t what she wanted, but he did not want her to stay if she was unhappy.

A familiar sound reached his ears, causing his nails to dig into the earth as a low growl hummed in the back of his throat. Mabel had suctioned herself to his side and adopted a more dominant stance, but the trio of coyotes did not retreat. Instead, they took a bold step closer to the duo, making evident they weren’t going to leave without a fight. Um, he started, his nose close to his friend’s ear as he kept his gaze fixated on the mutts before them, I think we better get outta here. I don’t feel like pickin’ a fight. Not today.

Mabel would have liked to have a chance to finish this conversation. Or, at least a second to try and figure out her thoughts about whether or not family made somewhere a home. She loved both her parents and would miss them dearly but she could probably survive without them, but @”Ayla” or @”Corsair”? Sure, she loved to talk tough but could she really imagine living without them? She wasn’t sure, at least not anytime soon. But, before she could even begin to fully articulate this thought to herself let alone to her friend they were interrupted.

Sachiel realized what was happening before Mabel even pressed herself against his side and she noticed his growl with a surprise flick of her ears. His suggestion was met with furrowed brows even as she stared at the coyotes which were slowly making their approach. The yearling had no idea what had been happening for weeks and her naivety showed in her haughty sigh. ”Why? They’ll leave, we just gotta show them we won’t run.” That’s what always happened with these skinny almost wolves.

But, they weren’t this time. Her tail stiffened behind her and her muscles tensed but the vermin just moved slowly ever closer. Mabel’s heart began to pump wildly in her chest, realizing her mistake. It would take only very little prompting from Sachiel now to make her flee.

His mismatched gaze flickered over to his ivory friend as his ears swept back against his crown. Normally he would have joined her in attempting to frighten off the coyotes. A few growls and clicking of the jaws was usually enough to scare off the mangey mutts, but not these ones. For whatever reason these coyotes were bolder; smarter. They weren’t going to listen to a couple of scruffy yearlings. No, May, he hummed, his muzzle close to her ear as he spoke, these ones aren’t like that. They were willing to pick a fight with wolves. But Sachiel? He wasn’t willing to fight a trio of coyotes—not outnumbered.

The coyotes shuffled closer, the fur on the back of their necks bristling as they snapped their jaws in the direction of the two yearlings. There was food nearby—that was why they were acting so territorial. An even bigger sign for the duo to flee the area. He would do whatever necessary to keep the girl safe—that’s what friends were for—but he wasn’t interested in fighting. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

Come on, he hissed as he nipped at her cheek in order to get her moving. He’d explain later, once they distanced themselves from the coyotes. There was no time for conversation when they were dealing with three hungry, sharp-toothed coyotes; the explanation could wait until they had cleared the area. He continued to nip at her until her feet started working and she scooted along, away from the coyotes, with Sachiel following close behind. He would not stop until he knew that the coyotes were far behind—and he would ensure that she did the same. Hell, if he had to walk her back to the Bend (or wherever she wanted to go) he’d do it. He wasn’t going to let her go off on her own.

Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that Mabel thought she might be able to hear it in her ears. It was a strange thought to be thinking in this situation but she couldn’t get it to clear her head, at least until Sachiel spoke. She had been so focused on staring at the coyotes and her strange ear hearts that she flinched when her friend’s voice came in hot against her face. Was it just these ones that weren’t like that or is this how coyotes were going to act forever? Was it because they were yearlings and not adults? Do coyotes even know that kind of thing?

Intensely focused on her confusion it took more than one nip on her cheek and shoulder before Mabel got Sach’s message. Then, she shakily exhaled a breath and turned to flee, long legs moving almost on their own accord. But, at least this was physical danger and the yearling got a slight thrill from that. This was a real threat, tangible, and dangerous sure but it was something she could explain and something she could fight or flee and understand.

She wished they had stayed and kicked their ass, she wished she could turn around now and go back and mess them up. But, her legs kept moving in the direction they were going until they were well and away from the weird hill. Finally, she came to a stop and her breath came ragged as she tried to process what just happened. When she could eventually breath more easily she turned to Sachiel, ”What the hell?” Clearly she wasn’t mad at him, but she was sure as hell confused.

Part of him shared Mabel’s own thoughts. He wished that, instead of running, they had stayed and fought off the trio of coyotes, but Sachiel was no fool. He knew they were outnumbered and he did not want to wait for back up to arrive. The last thing he needed was a scolding from one of the Edge Lords for being a moron and trying to fight the coyotes with another yearling. He did not doubt his own abilities, or Mabel’s, but he also did not want to worry about his friend while trying to wrestle a coyote or two.

He skidded to a hault, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His mismatched gaze was focused on the ground as he heard his ivory friend stop beside him, her own breath just as ragged as his was. Her response earned a weak, lopsided smile from the tawny youth as he turned to her, his shoulders sagging in silent defeat. I’m sorry, he responded hastily, there’s been a lot of 'em lately. An’ they ain’t scared of us. A frown replaced his previous smile, his ears swinging back as his mismatched gaze swept over his ivory friend to ensure she had not sustained any injuries during their retreat. We prolly coulda taken ‘em, I just didn’t wanna risk it. He glanced away, his gaze focusing on his muddy paws: Didn’t want you t’get hurt. Or get himself hurt. He could only imagine the response he would get if he arrived at the shallows with coyote bites littering his pelt.

… Although it would make him look tougher …