Ruins of Wildwood
Possum Island 'that can never happen here' we used to say - Printable Version

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'that can never happen here' we used to say - Chan - Jul 26, 2022

are we not good enough,
are we not brave enough,
to become something greater
than the violence in our nature?
The Violence, Rise Against


Trigger Warning: stillborn/infant death, laying to rest, ""corpse desecration"" (a possum snatches one up)
Backdated to roughly the beginning of June(?), promptly after @Flair gives birth to stillborns. Chan has swum with them to the eastern-most island in the lake to lay them to rest. All welcome, otherwise it'll be a read-only.
Intended to be a Sub-territory Discovery, 'Possum Island;' Far more likely to be found in the southern-most reaches of the province, it is rare to come across an opossum in the Lore. Yet if one crosses the waters of Turtleback Lake to explore her largest island, you will find a plethora of these curious critters. Chance and determination both led to their flourishing amongst the hardy pines, insect-filled grasses, ample fishing holes and diverse collection of wild berry bushes. The isolation of island living has protected them against predators and even kept them hidden from the wolves of Relic Lore, until a mourning would-be father was driven to their shores in a bid to find the stillborn litter a final resting place.

They'd each been so small, he'd been able to carry all three at once. Their delicate bodies had grown cold around his tongue, and conflicting feelings of fatherly love and base disgust swam amongst deep grief as he held them betwixt his jaws. Through the towering red woods, over the lichen-stained gravel of the lake's shores, and across it's cold waters he brought them in hopes that here, their rest could be absolute. Every inch of the journey, numbness spread through his body and static swelled within his skull. It wasn't until he'd finally stopped moving that world slowly began to come into focus once again.

Moonlight allowed him to get an optimal view of the island's immediate terrain, the flora withered yet still more lush than that on the other side of the waves. It was a welcoming sight, but still he had to fight with himself to actually lay the tiny bodies down amongst the soft grasses. He did so gingerly, as though he could still do them damage. Stiffened, cowlicked, seemingly identical; yet he'd already memorized their differences. Studying them now, Chan did something he'd truly thought he wouldn't in such a situation.

Fiodor. Shea. Enette.

They were the first to come to mind, each as he gazed upon the respective child. Instant, as though it were inconceivable they be named anything else. Could be anyone else. They hadn't yet lived and never would, but they were still his newborns, his kids who were going to grow and adventure and love and forge their own identities in the world with those names until—

He shut his eyes tight, and tried to focus on the sound of the breeze moving the world around him. Crickets kept rhythm and a myriad of creatures scuttled and stirred amongst the growth around him. Everything in its place, the world still spinning and the sun set to rise come morning. By acknowledging these things, Chan strove to ground himself. His fangs clenched and his legs shook. It wasn't working.

The gentle nocturnal ambience was broken as something burst from its cover and rushed toward the grieving wolf. His bi-colored gaze snapped open in time to see something with a sleek silver face, black eyes and a worm-like tail snatch Enette up with its tiny pink claws and needle teeth. Chan's heart seized. This had been why he'd brought them to a place so secluded, so that they could be properly reclaimed by nature without anyone stumbling upon them in their macabre journey. That included him, he didn't want to see and know and remember

"Stop!" his voice broke as he surged forward, charging the strange beast.

"Stop it!"