you do not know who is your friend or who is your enemy until the ICE breaks. The certainty in his blood had reached a boiling point, and Ren's return had been the spark to star the fire. Swift River was caving in on itself, dying, being suffocated, and it was no one's fault in particular. Collective collapse, distrust, pain, grief, loss, every blow they had suffered weakened them and — he swore under his breath as he disappeared into the shadows. He did not want to bring the confrontation about in front of them. Would Marsh defend his place? Or would he yield to Ice? What am I even doing? Every shadow held Aiyana's pain, Corinna's grief, and Rissa's smile, forever erased. Every shadow held Torrel's energy and Indru's fierce eyes. It was like she had said: he lived here, despite there being no trace of him. No physical trace. The River King could never be separated from the River. He haunted them and Ice knew he could not snap out of it, unless they moved. And restlessness drove him to act, need bade him do what he was about to do. Not dislike, discontent, no, never — Marsh was strong. Marsh was a wolf. But Marsh was not Indru, and somewhere along the lines, Ice had realized that there were few other wolves he would follow, and with him gone... Choosing a place to stand, a small glade studded with bare bushes within their old forest, Ice tossed his white head back and howled. The call vibrated in his throat and echoed among the trees, calling Marsh to him, the urgency and beat of his heart giving some of his purpose away. Adrenaline was flooding his body, and he could hear his pulse in his ears; not roaring yet, but rapid, light and fleet. The breath almost stuck in his throat as his call ended, and he waited, waited, for Marsh to come. For it all to be over. Raising his tail and sweeping his ears forward he waited, his gaze ready to fix on Marsh's iron one and demand submission. The silence was heavy in his ears, winter holding its breath and waiting. It was a curious feeling, like standing upon the brink of a war, on the edge about to leap: would he fly, or fall? Would he be able to save Swift River together with Corinna, even if it mean they moved away from the Grove which had sheltered them for so long? Away from the memories of pain and loss.. into another phase, a new start. If he expected every wolf to abandon them sooner or later, they would never grow, never flourish. Sometimes you had to take risks, and deep down he knew, that if Ren ended up leaving again... it would snuff out the hope he was trying to nurture, close the crack opening in his rugged heart. Odd, that so much hinged on one wolf. .ice aesir |
Blargh, this sucks, because I am high on adrenaline from speed-writing, as I'm about to leave like.. now. xD