Ghastly Woods Waving through a window

He knew it was going to be difficult—to get time away from his mother and their pack? group? clan? to see Adeltra—but it would be worth it. His friendship with her was one of the main reasons he hadn’t completely fallen apart after his father’s death. She had never been persistent or tried to bombard him with consoling words. Most days her presence alone had been enough. But she had encouraged him to keep going—both physically and mentally. To not wallow in his own misery. To eat. Piety had also been there to help him, but she was grieving too; he had to be strongish for her.

Yeah, we found her.

His tail wagged in relief, but it was short-lived. His expression grew grim as she continued, her words becoming bitter as she spoke of Morganna. It didn’t take an expert to figure out that Adeltra was not fond of the woman. What his friend was saying made sense—they should have chased the dark yearling off, away from the missing cub. That would have been the practical course of action, not inviting him back to the Scowle… but he was sure Morganna had her reasons. Cyril had never had an issue with the ebony Archer; he did not have anything against her. When she had arrived at the monadnock the boy had actually grown quite fond of her and her sharp tongue.

As Adeltra continued her story the boy’s bottom jaw dropped open in surprise. The girl had disappeared again?! Yikes! He felt sorry for the girl—and her parents. Hopefully she found her way back to the mountain and away from her captor. But, it appeared Adeltra was done with the situation, otherwise she would not be this far north. Probably a wise idea. Too much drama in the south, he mused as he gave his head a soft shake. At least y’know she was safe. I’m sure she’ll end up back home. Hopefully. But it wasn’t his problem. He didn’t live in the south; didn’t even know the girl. How’s the Ridge? Her father? Her mother? 

Too much drama in the south he said and she vigorously nodded her head in agreement. It kept her on her toes, true, but she’d rather the drama of, say, a nice big hunt than the drama of the threat of war and missing pups. It got exhausting after a while and for the time being she was enjoying her down time, with her best friend of course. Because where else would she be? She gave a small shrug to her finding her way home. I mean I really hope so, and I’ll keep an eye out around the Ridge like I was doing before but it’s not my problem anymore, she said bluntly. She hated it, but it was true. They’d made the effort to help a situation they hadn’t even been the cause of and it had gone to shit. Addy had done everything she could, now it was time for others to take over.

He questioned how the Ridge was. Pretty good all things considered. Everything feels like it’s slowly going back to normal. Dad’s still sick, but, you know, he’ll pull through, she replied, unknowing that her brother was going to run for the hills in her absence. The girl moved forward to press herself against her friend with a lazy smile, enjoying his presence. One should know that once they became friends with Adeltra, all bets on personal space were off the table. I’m glad you seem to be doing better, she said, bumping her shoulder against his.

At least Adeltra seemed to be fairing well considering all the drama that was going on in the south, and appeared mostly unbothered by it. Cyril was just glad that his mother had decided to leave and head back north, toward the mountains. Even if it meant being further away from the ebony Archer. At least he didn’t have to worry about all the commotion. That was the last thing the sad boy needed—he had enough of his own problems; he didn’t need to worry about the problems of others. His friend answered quickly, echoing his thoughts. He nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. They’ll figure it out, he offered with a lazy shrug. Sure, he was concerned for the safety of the missing girl, but he’d never met her or her parents before. It didn’t matter to him what happened, as it wouldn’t effect him. Not this far north.

A warm smile rolled onto his dark lips as she responded to his question. He was happy to hear that things were going well for her in the Ridge, even amongst all the drama from the neighbouring packs. The corners of his mouth twitched as she mentioned her father being ill, but he gave her an encouraging boop to her cheek when she stated that he’d pull through. His brows, however, snapped together at her final comment. I’m glad you seem to be doing better. I guess so, he responded with a shrug. Better-ish. It’s easier to breathe on the mountain. 

 

Cyril said that they’d figure it out and she gave a nod of agreeance. Hopefully sooner rather than later, because honestly she had liked what she’d seen of her cousin. She felt like she was a true Archer, and lately to Addy that seemed harder and harder to come by. It was a shame, really, but what could you do?

It’s easier to breath on the mountain he said. Maybe it’s cause of all this thin air? she teased, honeyed amber gaze looking at him with a gentle squint in amusement. Still, she was worried about him. He’d said better, which was good, but she still didn’t know about what was happening behind those eyes. They talked about her her her all the time, avoiding talking about him because it wasn’t ever an easy conversation. She knew he wanted to avoid it and especially in the beginning she had been careful not to force anything of her friend. Even now she would never want to force him into anything, but it had now been nearly 4 months since the death of his father and she thought perhaps she could attempt to broach the subject. Do you think you’ll ever go back. Not to stay, just to...see? Addy asked gently, gaze averting look at the forest around them so he wouldn’t be stifled by her.

 

 

Maybe it was the thin air. He never liked the forest much—even when he had lived in the lowlands. He had watched the trees from a distance, glaring at them and wondering how anyone could live among the sea of wooden giants. The mountain, while it differed from the monadnock, reminded him of his former home. But better. There was no death here; no blood. A place for them to recover and rebuild. Be at peace, or whatever.

Adeltra didn’t look so convinced. He tried to offer her a small smile, his ears sweeping back against his dark skull. He had done well in avoiding the subject of his father’s death—with others, at least. It was something that frequented his mind often but he refused to talk about it aloud. Not to his mother, not to Adeltra. He didn’t want them to know he was still struggling. Trying to adapt. His brows narrowed as she spoke once more, addressing the thoughts Cyril worked so hard to bury. A tired sigh rolled off his tongue. Maybe. He wasn’t sure he wanted to return to the north. He knew he should, eventually, as it would help him come to terms with his father’s death. Move forward. Blah, blah, blah. Don’t really want to, honestly. He shrugged. Maybe in a few more months, after they settled in their mountain home. Not yet. His paws shuffled awkwardly beneath him; he didn’t like talking about himself. Especially when it came to his feelings.

 

Perhaps a part of Adeltra was afraid to broach the subject of his father with her dark friend because she was afraid that he’d push her away like he had done everyone else. Of course she knew about the pain that he relived when he thought about it, but at the same time...what if he ignored her? What if he left. He’d been the one to find her, to bring her home and help her restablish her light. If she lost him, she wasn’t quite sure what she would do. As she looked at him, she felt a tight pain in her chest at even the thought of never being able to see him again. That was why, when he let out the sigh, her auds flickered backward and her pulse hammered. Please don’t be mad she thought.

But...he didn’t seem mad? Perhaps tired, tired of what she wasn’t sure, but just...monotone. Still, he answered and she was glad for it. Even more glad when he said maybe. It meant he had thought about it, considered it. Even the not yet was good, in her opinion. She didn’t want him to be retraumatized, but maybe it would be good for him. When he was ready. She pressed herself to him, taking in the comfort of his presence. Yeah, when you’re ready, she said, the statement showing him that she wouldn’t press the matter further. Another hidden meaning was there, however. A meaning in the fact that she would also be there whenever he was ready to talk. If he didn’t feel like he could talk to Piety or any of the others she would be there. 3 days away, of course, but she would never turn him away. Baby steps, they were making baby steps.

 

 

Eventually he’d have to get over being so damn miserable and make the trek up to the north. Confront the death of his father head-on and get over it, but he wasn’t ready. Not with everything that was happening with his mother and the group settled on the mountain. Cyril wanted to make sure they decided to claim the haven as their own before taking a brief leave of absence. He didn’t even know if he’d seek his friend out before returning to the lowlands. The boy figured it was something he should do on his own, even if he didn’t want to. Plus, he didn’t expect it would be much fun for the ebony Archer. The last thing he wanted was to drag her down with him—she deserved so much better than that.

He nearly signed in relief when she didn’t press on the subject further. At least she understood to give him space. He’d always liked that about her. Adeltra had always known what to say and when to say it, even if made the sullen boy a little uncomfortable. He knew she was doing it because she cared about him. Or, at least, that’s what he liked to think was the case.

Sure, he started, his voice adopting a mischievous tone as he glanced over at her, but are you ready? Without warning he lunged at her, his paws outstretched in an attempt to knock her off her paws and hopefully pin her to the ground. If he was successful. If he wasn’t Cyril would crash to the ground and look like a fool—which he was totally prepared for. 

 

She was surprised by the mischievous glint in his yellow eyes, barely having time to process his words before he’d attacked her. She let out a squeak of surprise, his larger paws making contact with her shoulder causing her to fall over with an ‘oof’. The girl allowed a grin to stretch across her maw and crinkle the edges of her eyes. Her tail beat the ground beneath her. Oh, you’ve done it now! she warned, head lifting to jaw spar. A moment such at that one convinced her that he was going to be okay. That one day she wouldn’t have to wake up on most mornings and wonder how he was doing, what he was thinking, if he was going to be around when she went looking for him next. One day he would be the Cyril she’d met in the beginning, the happy, playful, mischievous, helpful boy that had quickly become her best friend. She’d cherish these moments and take them back with her to help her through the hard times ahead.

fade 

(This post was last modified: Mar 29, 2018, 02:42 AM by Adeltra.)