Fireweed Rise gabekana

Surrounded by the alien, he had only one light to guide him, one faint glow to show the path. For days, weeks he had been walking, been ignoring the pain in his hocks, and the greater pain elsewhere. He didn't think about that pain. All his life he had lived in one place, known the same faces, hunted from the same herds and marked the same trees, and to pass through so much unknown land was entirely surreal. Some suppressed part of him wanted to stop at every new wonder and drink it in - every horizon, every strange bird, every unfamiliar scent - but he dared not stop. Even sleep had barely distracted him, for he had no time to waste and could not rest anyway. Scavenging kept him going, for to hunt was another time consuming distraction, and he did not know how to bring down anything alone anyway. He had only ever worked in a pair, at least, and nobody had known his mind and strategics better than -

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and he put his head down and carried on walking.

For days the trail was faint, always there but always faint. She must have been as keen as he to get away from that place, those people. He did eventually come across the tribe she stayed with for a time, though they could not tell him her whereabouts, and from the sound of things he was a few days behind her. That was an improvement, however, and when he left them to continue his search, her scent was stronger, more recent. Yes, he could do this. If he could just keep it up, he could do this.

His determination was rewarded when, suddenly, the strength of the trail exploded, as if she had just passed by hours ago. So focused on the singular task was the wolf that it startled him, and for a moment he didn't understand what it meant. It took a few minutes for his mind, so often on autopilot since he left, to reengage and process what he was faced with. It was almost over. This meant she had either doubled back or she frequented this place.

This place? For the first time since he had set out, Ziigwan let himself really look at his surroundings. Rolling hills, a few very early red buds, a looming mountain in the distance and an expansive meadow within sight. It was quite beautiful, he supposed, though his rush was from the sheer fact it was not home. It was somebody else's, and right now, hopefully, it was Miskwaa's.

Emboldened by the possibility of success and the end of a great hardship, his nose went to ground once more and he moved as if a mist, floating forwards to the tune of a thumping heart. She was everywhere, here, on the wind and in the grass, and it took no time at all to find where it was strongest. A modest hideaway, unsuitable for a pack creature but entirely appropriate for someone on their own. He wondered if she was happy in this place, if she felt safe and important.

For the first time it occurred to him that she would not be happy to see him, him, a reminder of everything she ran from. But it was too late now. If she wanted him to leave, then so be it - though he had no idea what he would possibly do if that came to pass. Settling down in the shade, he huddled close to where her scent was strongest, where she must sleep, and for the first time since he had left his eyelids were heavy. She smelled like home, after all, like her family, like -

He shuddered a breath, and fell asleep.

FIRST POST AND YOU ALREADY MAKE ME SAD ;n;

Her stomach groaned, fleshly desire — no, need — put into physical form. The wolf stopped in its tireless movements to consider the noise, the gnawing pain in her abdomen. From her mouth hunt sustenance in the form of a small snowshoe hare, its body still warm from its recent capture. Regardless, it seemed unwise to stop now, situated as she was in the middle of Relic Lore's western meadow. These lands were busier than the ones she had taken to (for the time being) calling home: they thrived with spring life, prey scurrying about and predators tracking every erratic movement. Cream muzzle swung about, golden eyes carefully taking in the verdant surroundings. So full of promise, these lands, unlike the barren tundra she had left all those months ago... She bristled at the thought, a knee-jerk reaction that came whenever her thoughts drifted to that place, those wolves. Better left an ever-fading memory, forgotten bit by bit with each passing day: there would one day come a time when Miskwaa would not remember them at all, and she would welcome it with open arms.

Forcefully, Miskwaa redirected her thoughts to the present, pressing onward through the tall grasses with a sudden feeling of impatience. It was not far, the flowered pasture that she had taken to sleeping in. It was less populous than the meadow she traversed now, and thus by Miskwaa's own standards far safer. In fact, she had yet to encounter another wolf in her temporary home — though that may have been more to her own tireless travels than anything else.

And so it came as a great surprise when she saw another creature snoozing in her sleeping space. Emotions bubbled within her chest: bewilderment, irritation... Who was this creature and why did they think themselves so entitled to the space she had called her own? Hours she had spent laying beneath the shade so now the foliage was left with the impression of her athletic body and its baby flowers reeked of her scent. The signs would have been apparent, and yet there the stranger lie, its gray bodice expanding the boundaries of the flattened bed of flowers. As she drew nearer, the irritation settled and the confusion grew. That musky aroma, that grayscale frame...

The prey fell suddenly from her jaws with a dull thud, tail lashing excitedly behind her as golden eyes darted anxiously around. The realization did not bring happiness to her heart, but instead the same agitation that made her pupils dilate and her guard hairs rise. “Ziigwan.” The word was sharp, a loud bark meant to raise him from his slumber. Miskwaa spared a glance in the elder's direction, searching for the tell-tale signs of awakening before her frantic gaze began to carefully survey the thicket once more. An uncertain step away from him, punctuated by a question: “The others — are they here?” 

His dreams were full of nothing at all, his slumber serving only to regenerate what he had spent in his journey. As such, to him it was no time at all until a sudden sound jerked his eyes open, his heart pounding immediately and without reason. As seemed to be becoming habit, it took him a few seconds to understand what was happening - and that the sound had been his name.

Focus snapped into his gaze as he lifted his head and looked directly at her, at the end of his road. Clarity came with the panic, as he saw her expression and posture and the lack of joy in her voice, and the hunger deep in his belly woke up at the sight of her prey. It was too much at once. She glanced about as though afraid of finding something else, and he knew before she asked, of course - the others. He was the past she had run from. She didn't know that he had run from it too.

"No," he said, wetting lips which hadn't spoken for days, ears back. "It's just me, I'm - they're not - I'm sorry." How had he been searching for so long and not planned out what he had to say? A lifetime of societal complacency and he had forgotten how to be at odds with anyone other than -

"Please don't send me away."

"No." Her head jerked back to him with his words, wild eyes set intently on his face. Was it a lie? More words followed, as hasty as the thundering of her heart. For some moments, Miskwaa stood very still, her posture set: sunken down, body tensed and ready to bolt, lips parted and pulled slightly back. She waited, weighed the odds and in response he let plead softly to her that she not drive him away. And slowly, as the seconds ticked by with her uncle's measured breaths, the younger wolf relaxed and straightened. It seemed the old man spoke the truth, for Miskwaa could not detect the presence of any others... Still, she was not entirely convinced and though her expression relaxed and her bristled coat flattened, her ears flickered restlessly about and her tail twitched anxiously. 

With that issue more or less settled, a greater question presented itself: why was Ziigwan here? And, furthermore, why was he alone?

For several moments, Miskwaa pondered the possibilities.

Had the others died? Driven to the ground by Ayashe's lead, just as she had expected it would? She had warned them, Miskwaa thought rather bitterly to herself — because what other reason did her uncle have for standing before her now? The young woman had never thought it possible that he would leave that place, and yet here he stood before her, hundreds of miles from that place. Were she younger, less world-weary, she might have felt smug; instead, the incessant questions remained and it was not long before Miskwaa broke the silence, unable to help herself.

But first: “I won't.” A promise, molten gold eyes locked on his darker ones, her sharp features set with resolve. Selfish as Miskwaa was, it was hard to deny that she loved him, all of the bitterness aside. She paused a moment, the silence short and carefully measured, before inquiring, “Miika — where is she? Did she...” Die? At the thought, the younger wolf's expression softened, ears pinning back. It seemed the only explanation for his solitary arrival, and it was unfortunately not an answer she was likely prepared to hear.

He watched as she fought internally with the fact of his presence, with everything it could mean. He had never spoken of his malcontent to anyone except -

Well, to see him here, now, must have seemed entirely improbable. It seemed improbable to him; everything still had an air of the unreal to it, as though he would wake up and his life would return to normal. But as he watched her, fighting with all the possibilities of him being here, it all felt real enough. Though he saw her stance soften and relax, he dared not expect anything until she spoke the words, and graciously, she did. "I won't." The breath he had been holding escaped. It was not all for nothing, and he trusted and loved her enough to believe her promise.

But then she asked about -

His jaw closed with an audible snap as anything he had been about to say was knocked out of him, the very name able to cause physical pain let alone the implication in Miskwaa's question. "No," he breathed, "at least, not when... not when I left." Though, given how barren the territory had been, how far the usual herds had traveled, it was a real possibility. And he had left them there, left her there, to starve. He had done that.

He swallowed, throat dry, and averted his gaze. "You deserve an explanation," he said, measured, pushing himself to weak feet. Habit encouraged him to raise his tail in front of her - her lowly position had dictated such decorum despite his affection for her - but it was entirely different here. They were both homeless, and even among the lost he was beneath her. This was her safe space, not his. Despite their past she had no obligation to him, and he would respect her choice to accept him.

"Ayashe should have submitted to you. She has lead poorly, though your parents refuse to acknowledge it or council her properly. It is as you expected, and I - I'm tired," he admitted, with a thin smile. "I haven't rested in days. I don't suppose your charity is spent?" He glanced at the hare's carcass and smiled further, more genuinely, as it was a fine reflection of her time as the bottom of the ladder, when they would offer her meat beyond that permitted by Ayashe. Their rather extreme switch in circumstances would have been amusing to him if it hadn't been so sad.

(This post was last modified: May 31, 2015, 08:43 AM by Ziigwan.)

The hurt was clear on the elder's countenance, his expression wilting like a flower that had seen too many moons. Had he, too, been beaten down by experience — by the sunshine and storms that she now realized were an unavoidable part of life? He was clearly troubled, but his first words were vague and it became quite clear that he was extemporizing now the way he struggled to say what needed to be said. "You deserve an explanation." “What happened?” Unease consumed her and she kept her words calm, cool... But the tense set of her shoulders betrayed the turbulent emotions just beneath the stony surface.

It was then that she heard the words she had been waiting nearly a year to hear: she been right.

At this knowledge — the knowledge that at least one other creature saw the faults in Ayashe's rule — Miskwaa couldn't help but stand straighter, ears pulling attentively forward and muzzle angling just slightly skyward. She appraised him in this manner, her tail beginning to raise slightly, abandoning the damning identity of omega in favor for something more promising: equal. It was odd what a vast effect such a small piece of information had for her, but it was her uncle's action — brazen, independent, passionate — that drew from her such unwavering respect. It had been some time since she had regarded someone with such esteem and her expression, fiery and bright, made the sentiment clear: Ziigwan Wanishin had chosen wisely.

At his words, Miskwaa lowered her muzzle to pick up the hare at her paws. For a moment, it might seem as though she were rejecting his request for hospitality. Indeed, now that the meat was in her jaws once more, the hunger let itself be known once more — their conversation had made her temporarily forget that dull, persistent ache. But with a light huff she stepped closer towards him and dropped the creature at his feet. “No, for you it is not. Eat, uncle.” That said, the younger wolf leaned slightly forward, rubbing the top of her snout along his scruffy white muzzle. She pushed gently and took a minute step forward, ears pulling back as her face moved down to stop amid the scruff of his neck. Slowly, Miskwaa inhaled, took in the scent of him, reveled in the feeling of touching another of her species. Softly, exhaling her held breath in a tired sigh, Miskwaa said, “I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you.” Sorrow and regret painted her words, but when she pulled away a moment later, stepping back to sit before him, the tender emotion was gone from her stoic countenance.

There is a rabbit\'s nest nearby. +1 Health

It did not surprise him that she enjoyed the validation, enjoyed being right. Though it was ultimately a selfish thing, to be happy at the demise of her family, he could understand it and did not judge her harshly for it. She had fought for what she believed to be right, and how could he fault that? She was not to blame for her sister's follies, but if he accepted that then he should accept that he was similarly not responsible for his own choices, and he wasn't ready for his own forgiveness yet.

His tail swayed slowly behind him as she dropped the animal at his feet, her kindness almost making all of this worth it. He growled softly in gratitude, pushing his muzzle up against her chin, relishing her touch. He had spurned all contact in his journey for his own safety, and had not even lingered in the presence of her temporary packmates. Loneliness, at least, had always been a foreign thing. "Thank you, Miskwaa", Ziigwan breathed, relief thick in his throat, reaching for the carcass when she pulled away, unable to resist ripping a fresh hole in the hare's side before he spoke. "It is not your fault, my love. You did all you could. Sakima would not have allowed you to remain defiant of your sister... I fear he would have sent you away before risking another challenge."

How different life could have been with this strong-willed beast that sat before him, Ziigwan thought, leading in place of her rather more fickle and arbitrary sibling. He did not ponder it too long before ripping into the hare anew, driven by the emptiness in his belly.

It would have been a lie to say that Miskwaa had never intended to hurt him, if only because she had known that pursuing her own goals would inevitably harm those she cared about. For years, the questions had been how and when, and now the answers sat before her very eyes. Of course, this was not the final result she had spent the past two years of her life dreaming of. When she had pictured the end of her family's turmoil, Miskwaa had envisioned herself as the young queen, capable and just, working to prove to her distraught family that they were better off without her banished sister... This? This had never been a possibility in her youthful mind. But here they sat before one another, Ziigwan a victim of her own selfishness and Miskwaa riding the waves of triumph.

In spite of her own successes and the knowledge that the road to it was steep and thorny, it was hard to deny that she was shaken. With each passing moment, the growing realization of what exactly her uncle had done for her left Miskwaa somewhat in awe. He had left them, the only family he had ever known. For as long as she had lived, the man before her had loved her aunt, her parents, and her siblings. He had provided for them, protected them, and played the part of a secondary father. Five years worth of his life he had left behind in the Canadian tundra in favor of the small possibility of a better life with someone he truly believed in. It rattled her.

The tables were turned now and Miskwaa did not know what to make of it. The situation was most likely one she would grapple with for some time, but when she next spoke her words were smooth and assured: “Are you sure that's enough for you, uncle? I can find more.” I, not we: she accepted the role of provider with open arms, placing the responsibility of his fate on her shoulders. It was not simply obligation that guided this, but love, affection, and she watched quietly as he wolfed down the hare she had placed at his feet. She allowed him a moment to respond to her inquiry before adding softly, “I haven't been here long, but these lands show promise. I intend to explore further tomorrow.” 

He had been wrong to ever doubt her, it seemed, and Ziigwan was deeply comforted by that. "For now it is," he said, after swallowing a large and wonderful mouthful. She had clearly caught the thing for herself, being previously unaware of him waiting for her, and that fact did not go unnoticed - and though it bruised his pride to require such greedy charity, he would have done the same for her. Hopefully he could repay her kindness before long, for his basic survival drive couldn't bring himself to give up any part of the hare. Selfish, selfish - but such was the life of a wolf on his own, he supposed. He'd have to learn selfishness for his and Miskwaa's sake.

Abandoning his family was a great initiation into that, Ziigwan thought darkly, but the satisfaction of the warm meat prevented his mind from falling anywhere too dangerous.

These lands show promise. Ah, so she was considering staying in this place. He hadn't had much time to wonder if this was her destination, or whether he had merely caught her during her travels. Licking his bloodied lips, he paused in his meal to survey the area again, this time through different lenses, those of a potential home. It was greener than he was used to, more verdant, and that could only mean one thing: full of competition. There was no way a beautiful place like this was not home to a half dozen different families alone, and that was only their species.

These lands show promise. It struck him then, that he had felt no such intuition. Not once on the trail had he thought this would have been a good place, a good place to mark and a good place for children. A good place to call home. Had he lacked it from the start, or had it been trained out of him? Maybe they had been right, maybe she -

He swallowed again, though this time his mouth was empty. "What... are your plans?" he said, turning to look at her now, determined not to let his mind slip away from him, not now. He hoped that his offer to support her in her ventures was implicit. If she had chosen to stay here, then here they would stay.

(This post was last modified: Jun 01, 2015, 11:04 AM by Ziigwan.)