Aurora Heights on Fridays - Printable Version

The past few days - or had it been weeks - seemed to have all unfolded so quickly and so slowly all at the same time. It seemed like years ago that they had been happy and in the Bend’s den, and everything had crumbled so quickly. The members disappearing, her mother’s depression, the fire, her time healing in the Edge. How could all of this be happening now? There was snow on the ground where there had just been fallen leaves and the yearling and her family was homeless.

Mabel wasn’t 100% healed by any means, her voice still raspy and hoarse but, she was no longer dehydrated and her coughing fits were restrained to only after vigorous activity. So it had been time for her to get back to her family and hopefully they would all be there. That was the fear that ate away her stomach as her paws carried her up the stone pathways. That her father wouldn’t be there, that he hadn’t gotten her siblings out of the fire and were already up there waiting for her. They would probably chastise her for being late and keeping them worried but that would be okay. As long as they were all there.

The air was thinner this high up, though to the cream coloured yearling thought it seemed heavier, like a thick blanket of snow had settled onto the oxygen compressing them. It wasn’t the air, it was the anticipation and fear of the unknown. A true schrodinger's cat. If she didn’t go to the mountain then her family was both all alive and all dead because she didn’t truly know. Maybe she didn’t want to know.

Arriving to where the pack had been, it was clear they were no more. But, the scent of her family still laid heavy. Nothing from Ayla, and the smell of her father seemed stale and fading but Mabel was just happy to smell him at all. He was probably out hunting or scouting, or god forbid looking for her. Lifting her head to the sky she howled joyously, she had come home.

Even if Askan had denied his request to accompany Mabel to the mountain Sachiel would had defied the Edge Lord and gone with his pale friend. He could not bare the thought of her leaving without him sending her off and making sure that she was safe. Sachiel had been tending to the lavender girl since she arrived at the Edge borders to ensure she recovered from her smoke exposure. As the days passed he constantly reminded himself that her presence would not be permanent. Eventually she would seek out her family and stay with them. The shallows were a temporary stop until she was able to make the trek to the mountains. Just like Hawthorne and the mud-stained girl, Mabel would leave too.

Maybe it was karma for him leaving his family. For adopting a new family. Taking a new family name. The universe was punishing him.

He followed dutifully at Mabel’s side as she headed south, leaving the familiar woods that surrounded the shallows behind. It had been too long since he had ventured to the southern Lore—his birthplace. Sachiel still remembered the strange striped trees with their obnoxious orange leaves (even though he tried vigorously to forget them). He had not been this far south since he was nothing but a tuft of tawny fur but, despite the light blanket of snow, nothing had changed in his absence. Nor did he miss it.

The air grew thinner, and colder, as they summited the heights but Sachiel did not mind. It was part of the adventure. The only downside was that he knew he would have to say good-bye to Mabel soon, and Sachiel did not know if he was ready for that. His head hung low between his shoulders as he stopped at her side, his mismatched gaze sweeping over the rocky terrain. It was nothing like the mountain that loomed over the shallows—it was remarkable. Despite the change in altitude Sachiel had found it easier to breathe. Everything appeared brighter—even the colours that had grown dull in Hawthorne’s absence. He turned to his friend, his shoulder bumping against hers as she called out to her family to announce her arrival. The bitter feeling returned, settling in the pit of his stomach as a small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.

To be completely honest, Aponi had forgotten. She had forgotten that Ayla was not here, she had forgotten that Mabel was not here, about Lila. How had she forgotten that not everyone was here. That was the only thought in her head the second she had realized who had called from the mountain top. It had taken her longer than she would like to admit, her brain surrounded by a thick fog of grief, a fog which held her strongly in its clutches until Mabel had cut through it like a fog horn.

Now she was on the move, albeit slowly, it was like her muscles had forgotten how to carry her paws, had erased her once graceful gate. An old woman stood in her place. Not a queen by any means, not someone who had seen any kindness let alone sat in a place of royalty. There she stood before her daughter, who thankfully looked better than when she had separated from the group. And by her side a dark guardian with mismatched eyes, it must be her friend who she had visited so frequently in the Edge.

Aponi said nothing. How could she say that in the weeks since she was gone their family had been reunited and then crushed? How could she say anything at all? So, she said nothing.