Dead Empress Backwater The List Goes on

Sonnet had found herself curled up alone in the den when she'd awoken, a panic quickly settling in. She was up on her paws before she could think and out the door with a whine. Her head spun about on a pivot, but no one was within sight. Her belly somersaulted uncomfortably. Would if they were lost again? She glanced up at the snowflakes falling and thought of how cold Clover had been. A shudder raced down her spine following another pained whine. Worse yet, if they vanished altogether, without a trace like her parents. Or if there was another cougar? Little Song fought back the urge to cry.

She was off in a whirlwind, tiny paws racing down the familiar path. She'd followed the adults to the medical densite a few times now and knew how to reach the infirmary.

She slowed down as the den came into sight and could hear someone moving within. Her beating heart seemed to settle its pace some. She swallowed. Sonnet crept up, shoving her head in to see who it was and what they were doing. Eros! She didn't know him well, but she was happy to have found an adult she knew to be safe. Her head cocked to the side, what is he doing? Curiously the girl slid through and meandered into his personal space without a word.

"Speak"

HANDLE YOUR OWN WHEN YOU BECOME A MAN

Eros was preparing medicine for @Clover, to help her heal, relax and fight off aches. It could take time to make a poultice, but it was certainly worth the effort put in. He had struggled to understand that as a child, when he had first joined his brothers in training under their Ma. Now nearly three, Eros still didn't like being still for too long, but his appreciation for patience had grown by leaps and bounds all the same.

He heard soft steps and took in a deep breath without looking away from his work. Their latest orphan's scent made her known, informing the leader that he was safe to remain at ease. It wasn't until he felt her at his flank that he turned his head to look, a soft smile lifting the corners of his lips.

"Hey, Li'l," he greeted. The girl had a lot of nicknames, and he had to wonder if they'd ever know the one she'd been born with. She seemed fondest of Viorel's, but that was a mouthful to his tongue.

"Watcha doin'?"

BECOME A MAN WHEN YOU HANDLE YOUR OWN

The girl had shuffled close, so that their fur touched, and leaned in with curiosity. She met the familiar gaze as he turned to her with a smile. She wagged her tail at him, face remaining taunt. They kept leaving her alone in the den for their "duties". She didn't like these chores the adults had. Running around an invisible line morning and night to make their presence known. Had Mom and Da done that while she played? Pack wolves seemed odd in some ways, but she was learning things that she might not have if left a loner.

Another nickname. How many could a wolf have? Would they become so great she wouldn't remember them all? Song, Little Fox, Snowflake, Li'l...

The wolves here seemed to talk a lot. His question would be met with silence, her eyes shifting to stare down at the herbs. She'd flick her nose towards them in a sort of subtle gesture. There were more ways to communicate than with words alone.

"Speak"

HANDLE YOUR OWN WHEN YOU BECOME A MAN

She barely gave him any kind of answer. The girl wasn't even very expressive with her motions, which Eros thought odd. He already could get quite animated while he spoke, and if he couldn't use words at all? He imagined he'd become very active to try and get his points across. Li'l never seemed energetic to him. Of course, that wasn't a bad thing. The word needed soft and calm just as much as it did action.

He started working again, confident enough that the child at least didn't need anything from him.

"It's for Mama Clo. It'll help her feel better."

He watched the girl from the corner of his eye, to see if that was satisfying enough or if she was going to remain in his company. There were plenty of times his younger siblings had come to check in or ask their questions for only a few seconds before taking off again, both happy and free to follow each and every distraction as it came. Much as he'd likely been when their age.

BECOME A MAN WHEN YOU HANDLE YOUR OWN

She waited patiently, eyeing the dried-out stems of each plant carefully. She couldn't recall her parents collecting that which grew back on the mountain. Why would they? Aside from the yellow flower, she didn't remember anyone ever picking a plant. One of the many mysteries that made pack wolves odd to her.

Feel better? Her head cocked to the side slightly as she recalled how awful she'd felt when her sickness first took hold. The days between then and reaching the pack were hazy. Especially her first weeks here. Her recovery was proving slow but the first leg of the journey had been hardest. Food, water, and warmth they'd provided her. Had she eaten some of these plants too? The memories were fuzzy.

Green eyes lifted to land on the male with a soft whine. She wanted to ask him how...but...she didn't want to talk. Not yet. She missed her family too much, so why talk? What was there to even say? Little tears lined her eyes at the thought, but aside from that, her face remained devoid of emotion.

"Speak"

HANDLE YOUR OWN WHEN YOU BECOME A MAN

The angling of her head and the subtle expressions of her beryl eyes suggested to him that this kind of practice might be new to her. It made sense, given how young she was. He was sure that @Clover had provided her with some kind of floral therapy given the state she had been in when Sonnet had arrived, but ingesting something given to you was a lot different than seeing what Eros was currently doing.

She whined softly then, and he saw moisture begin to build at the edge of her eyelids, alarming him.

"What's wrong?" he asked instinctively, voice deeply empathetic in its tone. Eros had cried easily and often as child, possessing such big feelings that he couldn't hold them in. Now he had greater willpower and different coping mechanisms, but the emotions had never really lessened. Li'l looked so sad and resigned to it in Eros' eyes, it made him want to cry with her!

BECOME A MAN WHEN YOU HANDLE YOUR OWN

Sonnet swiped a paw at her eyes, why did she always have to cry?! The adults didn't get emotional all the time like she did. Why couldn't she be more like that?! She took a deep shaky breath to collect herself. Eros's question broke the dam. A soft wail left her followed by a torrent of tears down her cheeks. Quickly she approached him and pressed her tiny frame into his own. Could the plants make this feel better too? She wanted her Da, Mommy, and Pan so bad. She tried to bury herself into his fur, leaning into him with all her little might.

After a moment she pulled back and pointed at the plants with her snout. Could they make her less sad?

"Speak"

HANDLE YOUR OWN WHEN YOU BECOME A MAN

Oh shit. He made it worse! As she pressed into him he didn't hesitate to lift a forelimb and pull her in, a soft "hey, hey, hey," and gentle shushes falling off his tongue. It wasn't that he minded her crying, he just wanted her to know that she was okay, that he was here and he realized she was hurting. As he held her and patiently waited, he had the chance to think about how those things did not necessarily coincide with what he'd vocalized.

She pulled back and jabbed her nose toward Eros' work, and guilt twisted his stomach. He felt it was necessary to say, "it's okay to cry," his voice quiet and just for her.

"It's okay to be sad."

If only she could tell him what she was so sad about, maybe then he'd actually be able to help with the problem and not just its symptoms. That she was inquiring as to whether or not the medicine could help with the emotions she felt went completely over his head. Though as his eyes went to them, and the dusty, hard-packed earth they rested upon, he got an idea.

"Hey. Have you ever played this game?"

Eros cleared a part of the ground at their paws, scraping and pushing to get a thick enough layer of dry dirt to work with. Then he used 'palm' of his paw pad to make one round blob, and a slightly smaller doppelganger beside it. Next he stretched his toes apart and angled his paw so as to use his claw to etch in two little triangles atop each. It was sloppy, something he hadn't done in a very long time, but there had been plenty of times it had kept him and a sibling (typically @Archer) busy for hours.

"So when I did this when I was your age, we'd take turns making things in the dirt, and guessing what they were meant to be. Like, this is me," he placed his paw next to the larger shape, then moved it over to the opposing side of the picture to set it down beside the smaller figure, "and this is you. Wanna give it a try?"

Maybe she'd need to practice to get a little dexterity, but maybe also she'd one day be able to tell them her story through a collection of these simple little drawings.

BECOME A MAN WHEN YOU HANDLE YOUR OWN

Her small body was pulled closer to his, the pup nuzzling her face into his side. He spoke gently to her. He seemed like an okay wolf, but he wasn't Viorel. Sonnet decided at this moment that she also liked Eros. He spoke more and she searched his face for the same reassurance he'd spoken. It was okay to cry? She never saw the adults cry, but if he said it was...then that had to be true. She nodded with a soft sob.

A game? She watched him play with the dirt. Her head shook back and forth. She didn't remember ever playing with the dirt with Pan. Not that she remembered much of their time together. She watched with curiosity as shapes began to form. She wasn't exactly sure what the shapes represented, but patiently watched and waited. That's me? Her tiny head tilted to the side.

Song nodded, scooting over to find a good spot. She extended her paw out to draw squiggles in the dirt. In her mind, she was creating a masterpiece. There was a clear example of the mountains, the river she used to play by, her parents, her sister, and her. In reality, the child made a jagged line with four little blobs underneath. She looked up at Eros with her ears pressed forward eagerly. She wanted to tell them this was her home and her family. Would he understand?

She looked down at the sloppy portraits, placing her paw underneath one. Her lips formed together and she forced the p sound out. She glanced up at him and then back down, tempted to say the name but it felt tabu...Pan was gone.

"Speak"