Thicket of Secrets a swan and her duckling

There could have been an entire choir of birds in the thicket, but they were silent in reverence of the soloist whose lonely song filled the forest. It was a small voice from a small chest, but the air was still enough to carry a whisper and no other sound was attempting to compete. Bella dared not even breathe.

Ears forward and high, eyes wide but unseeing, her heart beat quickly, fluttered by the soft notes from the unseen singer. It was a wonder in a land full of them, and it was not the first one to welcome her back. The first one had been that glimpse of a mountain peak, a sight she had only seen once at that distance. She had been leaving it behind, then, running from a broken and confused home towards another one. She could clearly remember the feeling in her chest when she had turned and there it was, her home poking above the low-flying clouds. It had taken a while before she learned how to breathe again, though that lungful of air which she had inhaled on seeing the Mountain of Dire again had been the sweetest in months. She had stopped in her tracks, to the annoyance and curiosity of her children travelling with her, and she had explained, with a smile, that their destination was close.

She was going to reclaim that piece of her heart she had left behind two years ago.

The song swelled, its story reaching its crescendo, and Bella let it consume her entirely. The thicket was oppressive and dense, protective and warm, and in its closeness the rich sound was everywhere. There was a smell, too, an underlying scent which was unique to this part of the world, which distinguished it from Lacerta and all the other territories she had visited. It would linger until she reached her mountain, she knew. Until she reached her childhood lake. It was a scent which had faded as she had walked through this very forest, and one she had struggled not to forget for two years.

Crowfoot, Snakeroot and Foxglove had all pushed on ahead, emboldened by the sight of the mountain's peak. Aware of their impatience and pent up energies, Bella had consented to them separating, promising to regroup by her lake. They were all sharp, all independent even at their young age. No younger than she had been, though, she mused, when she had left with Wolesh, and she had to admit that they were more capable than her at a year old. At least they all had each other to rely on.

It would be surreal to have the two sets of memories collide. The Lost Lake had achieved a mythic status in her mind, as if her childhood had only been a dream. Would Crystherium Lake, the place she had chosen rather than the place she had been born, take on the same qualities as time went by? She could never return, just as she had once believed that this very journey was impossible. But here she was, on that impossible path. So perhaps, one day...

Somewhere, a yappy little featherball was screeching at the top of its lungs. His ears were folded back at the sound, so stark against what would otherwise be blessed silence. Silence - a thing he cherished, for it meant he was alone. If he was alone, he could be whoever he wanted, and not just the weak, small youngest Calor.

It was a mixed relationship with silence, though, for he only liked the self-imposed kind. When in the company of Staleek and Tauza, silence meant plotting behind his back, silence meant fear, silence meant judgement, silence meant that mother was the only protection he had in the world. And long ago - or what felt like long ago, to a wolf who had only just seen his first twelvemonth cycle complete - silence with his father had meant... emptiness. A complete lack of any feeling whatsoever, a slowly crushing rejection. These were not the kinds he enjoyed.

You know, now that he thought about it, he didn't really like silence at all. It was almost always bad news.

Shifting his weight from one paw to another, gaze flitting rapidly about the dense thicket, he subconsciously pressed in closer to his mother, his throat and chest tight from the cramped space. She was gone, he could sense it, away in her head, hearing and seeing things that nobody else could, though she tried so hard to share it with them all. Stubbornness, yes, and determination, those were things that his parents had shared, something they had managed to pass down easily. If only they had been alike in other ways... but he quickly amended that by clarifying that he would have liked his father to act more like his mother, not the other way around. Licking his wet lips, he entertained that notion for all of a half-second, for a reality in which Belladonna Calor had been more like Wolesh Calor was a reality in which Duckweed Calor didn't exist anymore.

Sometimes he had wondered if it was possible to melt himself into his ma's pelt, to become as invisible as he felt. She was the only one who cared anyway.

As the bird continued its tuneless shrieks, Duck turned to watch his mother, to watch the small movements in her face and body, to try and understand even a fraction of what she was experiencing. It still felt strange not to have to watch his back all the time, though a not-so-small part of him was convinced that the whole 'oh we'll go on ahead, mother, we'll meet you at the top! loveyoubye!' was an elaborate ruse, and that they were still lurking in the shadows, waiting, biding their time. It would not be the first time they had let a prank build up for days, weeks, to achieve maximum payoff. If he wasn't so terrified of running into them alone, he would have asked to be able to go on ahead by himself too, because why did he have to dog his mother's footsteps when Staleek and Tauza could look after themselves, and Ahkna had wondered off completely on her own? He wanted to prove that he could do it as well as them! Little that they knew of Bella's childhood, Duck did know that she had been no older than them when she had left this stupid land in the first place. She was no Tauza, no Ahkna, no fiery independence and blazing confidence. She was like him, soft at the edges. But nobody held her back and said that she needed constant support. Why couldn't he show that he wasn't an invalid?

Because nobody really believed that, not even him. Weak little weed he was, a parasite, sucking his mother dry of affection and time. He could close his eyes and dream of striding strong into the wilderness, the mountain in his keen eyes, the wind through his fur. He could imagine being first to the top, and his smug grin as they all realised that they were slower than a weed. They'd look at him differently after that.

But that wasn't real. Frustration flashing through his chest, he nudged his mother in the shoulder, a little too rough than he should but a great deal more gentle than he would have liked. If he couldn't dream, then why should she? They had an appointment on the mountain to catch to resume his regularly scheduled hell.

A small poke in her haunch brought Bella back to reality, her eyes re-focusing as she turned her head. Seeing him watching her, Bella smiled, reaching down to gently lick his little dark nose. "Sorry, my love, did I do it again?" Chuckling, she lifted her ears to catch a last few precious moments of the unique song, but she knew that Duck's not-so-subtle hint was right; they had lingered long enough already. Just because she felt like dancing on the clouds didn't detract from the fact that they had somewhere to be and family to reunite with. Slowly drawing herself fully into the present, setting aside her memories for the time being, she chuffed once as farewell to the lonesome singer and then dutifully pressed on, her movements careful in the enclosed spaces.

Such indulgences were only truly safe to enjoy now that the others had gone ahead. While her children knew full well the kind of creature Bella was, she had made efforts to tone herself down for their sake, aware that their patience was not as vast as her own. Wolesh had always rolled his eyes at her idiosyncrasies. She had often tries to share her joys with him, for wasn't that what mates were for? To share life? His tolerance for Bella had been higher than with most other wolves, she knew, for she had known the brute well, and he would not have made the quiet, almost shy efforts for anyone else in their life. Those had been cherished moments, the nights when he had let her coax him out of the den and onto that high point overlooking the plains far below, where the mountains had come together to form a perfect 'V' shape and the moon would make its lazy, perfect path right down towards that point. She had even seen a glimpse of contentment in his face, as the moonlight shone from his wide grey eyes. What she would have given to know his mind in those moments, those beautiful moments before he caught her staring, and with a teasing scoff would shrug and turn away, pretending to have experienced nothing.

It was okay. They had shared other beautiful things, and it wasn't the first time that someone had failed to understand what she was showing them.

"Did you find their trail, in the end?" she asked casually. It was so strange to walk without their chatter, though maybe this time alone would allow Duck to come out of his shell more. She knew how his siblings' presence intimidated him, and his reluctance to join in their conversations unless directly addressed. This time alone would do him good.

Of course she looked at him warmly - of course she had no idea. Weakly he returned the smile, just enough to prevent suspicion, not that she would have any inkling there was anything was wrong at all. She was still riding her birdy high. Simple minds, simple pleasures. He pulled back from her affectionate touch as any young man would, embarrassed by her affection even though they were alone. Ingrained habits. Tauza's rotten expression whenever their mother embraced him made him deathly nervous, and he still couldn't shake the idea that they were watching so stop it, ma.

Of course she'd done it again, and no doubt there would be many repeat performances before their journey finally ended. The closer they got to her birthplace, the more he felt she was disappearing into some world that he couldn't follow. She was trying hard to hide her impatience, but he knew her too well, knew what it meant when she shifted her weight between her paws as he drank, or when her eyes lost focus as she spoke to him, or how she would stare towards the east for a long time when she thought he was asleep. Duck felt bad for deliberately dawdling, for delaying her, but he could neither keep up with her pace and nor did he want to - that stupid mountain did not mean to Duckweed what it meant to Belladonna. Not by a long shot.

And she had no idea.

Off they went, and the boy followed, like he always did. He let his mother go first, let her find all the best routes through the dense foliage, stealing her footfalls as she left them behind. Despite the walking taking him closer to the mountain, it was the one thing which he almost enjoyed, for it was such an automatic process that he could lose himself in the repetitiveness of it, and let his mind dull and think of nothing but where to place his paw next. He was settling into that numbness when her question pulled him roughly back out, not only denying him that singular comfort but also reminding him of the last thing he wanted to think about.

"No," he muttered, jaw clenching at the lie. She wouldn't suspect, though he felt guilty anyway. "There was nothing down that way. I guess they took a different route." He could have added something like I'm sure they're fine, or maybe we'll cross their tracks later, but he could not bring himself to pretend at the sentiments behind those kinds of words.

She sighed at his answer, disappointed. Ever since parting from her other three, and watching them blaze ahead, Bella had hoped to come across their trail. They were all headed for the same destination, after all, and while there were many routes to the mountain they would surely cross paths at least once, wouldn't they? It would have comforted her to know that they were still moving, still ahead, and she would enjoy filling her nose with them again. It was entirely unnatural for them to be away for so long in an unfamiliar place, and though she knew that they were all capable and probably enjoying their new-found freedom, she would have liked to know that they were safe and well regardless.

"Nevermind. Maybe we'll find something later."

Duck didn't reply, and Bella didn't push him on it, content to fall into a comfortable silence as they moved through the thicket. The bird's song faded, until eventually she could no longer hear it at all, but by that time they had come through the dense foliage and into the wider spaces of the forest, and there was plenty of life here to replace the soloist. Eyes high as they moved, she watched the canopies for movement, catching glimpses of bird wings and squirrel blurs. Without realising it, she had started to hum, following the simple tune that the bird in the thicket had serenaded them with.

Every now and then she would glance back, just to make sure that Duck was still there, and every time she smiled at him and he smiled back, just enough to prevent suspicion.

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health