Hidden Tree Labyrinth

Rain ─ 69 ° F, 21 ° C. Nightfall. @Belladonna (because I miss you.)

It felt like it was madness that had brought him here. After kissing his daughter and Nina goodbye and assuring them both that he'd be back before they could even miss him, Mirren left out of Secret Woodlands with a longing for the unfamiliar. He needed a change of pace, a change of scenery, and more than anything, he needed to remember what it felt like to be truly alone; there was a stark difference between that and the feeling of emptiness that had made a home in his quivering heart.

Tonight, the moon was bright as it hid behind a cloak made of heavy and troublesome clouds. Its light still bathed the hills and meadows and forests in silver-blue, the sort of color that he found to be beautiful and haunting at the same time. He welcomed the gusts of wind that blew through his summer coat, and even when the first drop of rain fell to burst on the bridge of his muzzle, he wasn't bothered. The air out here seemed fresher than he was used to and it helped him think ─ about everything.

He'd been so happy for so long that, the day he'd been mistaken for someone's brother in Copper Rock Creek, it dawned upon him that although he'd seemed to have everything, he was missing a big part of himself ─ his family. His childhood seemed like a faraway memory now, but Mirren had never forgotten his brother, Nios, not even after they had parted ways. And there wasn't a day that passed that he didn't wonder where Vaeta had gone to and whether or not she was some place where the salt of the sea clung to her fur...He'd made up his mind that he would see their faces again, no matter what. This was the longing that drove the man to the forest of his predecessors, which he reckoned was as good a place as any to start looking.

Rain fell down in gentle sheets, cold and wet and quiet. Mirren traversed most of the Wildwood already, having spent a number of hours during the day retracing old steps and passing by places he'd come to know. As the night darkened and the last traces of sunset were washed from the world, he was far from the old den at Hidden Tree where he'd planned to sleep off the weariness that his travels had wrought. Behind him was a meager expanse of rolling hills and open sky and before him, just in the distance, was a treeline that, despite his grandest recollections, he didn't recognize. Mud squished beneath his wide, dirtied paws as he stopped to glance over his shoulder before proceeding to close in on the forest that held some of his family's darkest memories.

(This post was last modified: Jul 16, 2015, 08:53 AM by Mirren.)

The thought had crossed her mind by chance, the memory of this place that she and Duck had travelled through on their way to the mountain. Having heard the stories, it should have been a time of quiet and reverence, of reflection for what once was. Duck's morose rebellion had ruled that out, and she had been too absorbed in his problems to pay her respects. Bella had not known any of them, not personally, though she knew that the family which had fled this land still lived in the Lore, thrived, had spread. It pleased her. Truly strong families should rise above adversity, should stick together. Though she was glad to have never experienced tragedy on this scale, Bella envied that solidarity, those strong blood ties. Though she valued her family above all else, she only really counted four wolves amongst them, cut off from all else through anger and hurt and betrayal.

But that didn't do to dwell on, not in this place.

Now safe in the knowledge that three of her children were together, Bella had felt more confident in leaving Duck for longer periods of time. He didn't enjoy his siblings' company, but bullies that they were, she truly believed that they would band together if necessary, the ties of sharing a womb rising above outside danger. It was cruel, perhaps, but she hoped that Duckweed was theirs to tease, and they would prevent anyone else from doing the same. Either way, the boy seemed content to be on a mountain again, and she needed to learn how to give him space. Trust them.

The journey back down the mountain had been easy, sped by her ability to go as fast as she needed, and her paws given confidence by age-old memories of safe paths which were constantly resurfacing. The faster she moved, the more alive she felt, and as the sky turned grey and the rain began to pour, her nose was filled with the heightened wet smell of the land and it was invigorating. The rain was always a splendid, beautiful thing. Mountain had turned to forest, rocks and air replaced with mud and trees, daylight giving way to the dark, and she had not stopped until reaching the place reborn, the ancient burned long ago, new life springing up in its place.

Unfamiliar with all except the stories, except the names and words, she knew not where their old densite would have been nor even where the borders would have distinguished one part of the forest from theirs. Walking slowly through the fire-ravaged lands, she marvelled at how green it was, how vibrant, how it thrived after such devastation - because of the devastation, the old and tired stripped away and the empty space made fertile and rich for what had come next. The wolves hadn't returned, though. The only scents she could find were those who wandered through. Did any of them stop to really look at the forest, to ask what had happened, to wonder?

Finding a small clearing in the density of the forest, where the rain fell straight from the blackened sky to the ground uninhibited by leaves, Bella sat herself in the middle.  Closing her eyes. raising her nose to meet the soft drops, the water ran over her muzzle and face and down her chest, and she felt cleansed, cooled and calm, surrounded by undeniable evidence that life goes on.

He crept through the darkness beneath the cover of the sprawling limbs of the ancient trees and their blankets of leaves. It was quieter here than out in the open ─ much quieter ─ almost as though the forest was abandoned completely, with only the roaming ghosts left to loom in the peaceful silence. Mirren's gaze swept over the scene in its entirety as he moved onward, taking in every shadow and every crevice with watchful eyes. Stopping to sniff the trunk of an old conifer, he wondered if his father had once walked this very path years before.

It was easy to let go of time and he did just that, submerging himself into the wonder he felt that seemed to seep from ground itself. Now and then a flash of lightning would light up the sky and everything beneath it, and he could, for just a second, see the depths of the woods and the twists an turns that would have otherwise eluded him. As magnetic as this old place was, it was becoming clear that it held no promise where finding what he was searching for was concerned. He was headed east when the sound of babbling water met his auburn-touched ears, and as he inclined his head in the direction from which it came, happen-chance and a little bit of lightning revealed an opening in the thick of the woods.

Stepping out into the clearing, it was then that he was met by a curious sight. And there she was, this perfect stranger, alone in the Wildwood with her face to the rain, elegant and mysterious and... Mirren froze.

She smelled of grass and stone and other things that reminded him of somewhere he'd been before, though he couldn't put them to any memory. Enchantment glistened in his golden eyes, made pale and cool by the light of the night, and he found he could do nothing but look on and wonder how it could be that the girl appeared as if the cloak of the darkness and the pitter-pattering fall of the rain was all she needed in this life. All at once he had forgotten about everything, and he simply stood as the raindrops slipped down his cheeks.

 

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

Hot streaks of light had joined the choir, and even though she was far from the mountain's peaks the storm was still able to embrace her. Thunder and lightning and wind and rain, a song to match the one in her chest, a ferocious force which she soared upon. It felt a little like home. Inhaling, she absorbed it and wondered if it could be enough, if she could tear herself from her precious heights to live in a place like this. This wasn't Ash's forest, but it was a forest all the same, but Bella was made for stone and hard, high places. She loved the green well enough but it was just... it was different.

They were the same, her children. They were all creatures born of rock and dizzying heights. But was it enough, would it be wiser to trade their natural habitat with one which promised safety and, dare she say it, family? Ash had traded the mountain for the flat, and she had known his love for their home. If he could do it, then -

The lightning crashed again in reply, and she smiled into the darkness.

It was several moments before Bella realised she was no longer alone, her senses swept up in her silent revelry. Her nose found him first, and she had enough basic instincts to come back to herself, become a wolf sitting on the ground again. Opening her eyes, she brought her muzzle back down to look for her unannounced company, and spotted the still form stood clear of the trees, watching her. The rain poured down and the wind swept past and her calm remained undisturbed. Slowly she turned her head towards the shape, the darkness making her audience little more than a shadowed silhouette. An ear twisted towards him, and the lightning flashed again, illuminating the clearing for the briefest of moments, and in that instant she met his gaze.

It was all he could do to take her in, to allow his eyes to wander over the silver lining of her silhouette as even the might of the storm could not sway her peace. The rolling of a distant thunder resonated in his chest as he blinked the water from his eyes.

For a time of several moments Mirren felt as if he was in a dream. The scene before him was so unlike the one he'd just stepped away from, where the shadows danced beneath the trees and he roamed, looking for something that he wouldn't find and didn't know wasn't there. Even as he watched the girl, there before his very eyes, he wondered if she was real. In the life he lived, there was no peace like what he thought he saw radiate from her unfamiliar figure. She appeared like some ethereal, graceful being, and it was as if she belonged in that clearing, belonged to the rain.

As if she could feel his eyes upon her, the girl was stolen from her rumination as she searched for a sight of him. He swallowed down what he thought was disappointment that he could have possibly ruined this for her and immediately he realized that she might not be as enamored with the sight of him as he was with the sight of her. In fact, he'd probably frighten her, what with his silence and wide eyes. Still...he didn't look away. In a moment of finality, a flash of white lit the space between them and finally their gazes connected. His tail flicked subtly against his hock and somehow he was as steady as the moon itself, and so was she.

He exhaled, the thumping of his heart slow in his chest.

He did think twice about it and a tinge of hesitation kept him grounded if only for a moment. Throwing caution and perhaps some sanity to the wind, he moved toward her, right where he found he wanted to be. Parallel, at a safe distance, he simply sat down, closed his eyes, and inclined his muzzle to the rain.

"Will it wash away my troubles?"

(This post was last modified: Jul 16, 2015, 02:01 PM by Mirren.)

It was almost impossible to read him, his being shrouded by darkness and the swell of the weather, visual and audible clues as to his mind washed away and lost. One split second of eye contact was surely not enough, but she had not missed his wide, staring eyes. His expression may have been hidden, but there was enough to be understood in the fact that he stood there, silent, still, and in the fact that she felt no fear.

What had brought him here, now? She knew that for many, rain was a nuisance, the thunder a reason to hide. Ever since leaving the mountain, these moments had been her own, a private source of meditation, though not because she did not want to share. There was enough splendor for anyone who was willing to see it.

He moved, his outline shifting in the dark, coming towards her. Still she remained, both empowered and humbled by her experiences here, and merely watched him approach. Was he... Did he want to share it? Her gaze never left him, fixed on where she believed his eyes to be. The closer he came, the more she could make out his features, hints at his own unique lines and shapes which made up his face. His eyes shut and nose raised, and she drew a long breath, fixated with her mysterious company, this total stranger who was almost more willing to embrace the things she loved than anyone she had ever been close to.

Wet ears tipped forward as he spoke, his voice smooth and low, cutting straight through the howls of nature. "No," she said honestly, wondering if this was real. "It gives me the strength to face them." 

Rain fell sideways across his face, catching on his chin and slipping down his throat as a swell of wind made the summer grasses roll like a sea around them. Welcome were the sound of the storm as it blustered overhead, drowning out the emotion he didn't really feel like dealing with and seemingly rinsing the ache of travel from his body. His question was one he knew the answer to ─ of course the rain wouldn't fix what was broken in his life and within himself ─ and, reasonably, he didn't expect an answer from the moonlit girl. But she gave him one, one that he didn't see coming. Her words lingered in his thoughts after they were replaced with the sounds of this particular night. He didn't budge or blink or even breathe as he ruminated on them for a brief time, and instead of looking right at her in wake of the subtle admiration he found for the stranger in the moment, he leaned against the watery gusts.

Mirren was no fool, and still what he needed, what he found himself looking for, remained unclear. He was strong, capable, sharp and charismatic. He'd never truly suffered a day in his life until his mate's disappearance, and maybe that was why he'd never needed to cope. But being strong was one thing, and facing his fears was another. Had he not been able to go on, raising up his daughter as best he could, ensuring that Nina had everything she needed and that the pack was safe from danger and not without food in their bellies? Had he not taken up all that was left after his lost mate had gone from his world and forged a new path without her? He had, but...

Beneath his stoical appearance, beneath the regal, dark and hardened mask he wore, he was just the boy in the blackberry field those seasons ago, with a hope in him that the world was so much more than what he'd seen and all that he dreamed. The boy who didn't believe in sorrow. The boy who would conquer it all. The boy who hadn't been expecting to meet a girl with a bird who would show him the colors of love and the way it could paint his life in shades that would light a new path. Beneath the skin, Mirren was the boy who had been thinking that Kite was going to come back and that somehow things could be as they were. He'd been holding out for a miracle, denying to himself all the times he'd thought he'd seen her form in the twilight-lit tangled woodland of secrets.

Even though he was strong, he hadn't faced the fact that she wasn't coming back.

"And if I face them ─ these troubles that the rain won't wash away..." His golden gaze churned as it searched her face, its molten depths more alive than he knew and more than he felt. The beige tones in her wet fur shone like the silver surface of a still lake in the sunlight and she was beautiful and mysterious, and he silently pleaded with her to share her tranquility or make him forget that he had none."...Will I find some kind of peace, then?"

(This post was last modified: Sep 13, 2015, 07:46 AM by Mirren.)

If she hadn't been sure that he was listening for her reply, Bella might have wondered if he had heard it at all. As her attention focused only on her mysterious companion, unable to look anywhere other than his face, desperately trying to read his mind, his was taken by the wind and the rain. It was good, she supposed, for that was the remedy she had suggested, but as they sat there in blustering silence it was impossible not to wonder what terrible thing was ailing the man. Only a troubled soul would come as he had, asked the question that he had, and she was selfish enough to think that he wanted to share her joy?

But how troubled was troubled? Bella was not @Veho, wise and soft, and her storms were not the answers that could be found in his Ancestors. She had learned long ago that what brought her soul peace was not necessarily ordinary. In trying to offer comfort and answers, she could make it worse, for how could she presume to know what would fix what was broken?

Quietly he sat, unreadable, and quietly she sat, fascinated and anxious.

Then it came. The water streaked down over her face as she watched him, not knowing how to answer him, how to give comfort in any reliable way. The rain could not wash away his troubles anymore than she could with airy, idealistic words, and to pretend they could would have been dishonest. Perhaps it was what he needed, to be lied to and soothed, but there was no way of knowing. She could not sit here in this glorious weather and pretend at the bandage which would patch his wounds. Whatever he must have thought of her, finding her reveling in the storm like this, she would have to break the illusion. She had no secrets to share, no magic words.

"I don't know," she was forced to admit, her voice only just loud enough to carry over the beating wind. "Some things... some things can't be so easily healed."

What happened to you? she thought, desperate to ask, as she lifted herself from the ground to move closer to him, the action without conscious decision. She came to face him, stood before him, still unable to look away. It wasn't her place to ask. He had found her, reached out for some kind of comfort, some kind of strength, and she had to offer it, no matter how meagre. Reaching forwards, she pressed her cheek against his, hoping to steal away some of his pain.

Wrap this one up and continue with a new one? <3

Her words lingered in the air like the smell of dew at dawn, and he held her gaze now as steadily as she'd been holding his all along. He weighed the meaning in what  she'd said for all it was worth, and knew at once that he would hold her answer close to his heart. Because he hadn't thought of it that way, not yet, not in all his days of wondering how in the hell he was going to recover from the heartbreak he wouldn't let anyone else ─ least of all a one of his pack mates ─ see. Not for what it was, a festering, gaping, bleeding hole in him that he didn't know how to sew closed. And yet, it was like the girl knew. Like his pain was a palpable thing that she felt. Like she could see what was broken, and like she was the only who could acknowledge that, maybe, this was just going to hurt no matter what.

He simply breathed, unable to say anything in return. Inside he felt gratitude, and still he remained at odds with the mystery that seemed to radiate from her. Some kind of allure he couldn't put a finger on. Slowly, cautiously, he let himself be mesmerized by the way she didn't look away in the moments before she made to move closer to him. His heart began to race at once, he himself unsure of what was unfolding. Closer, closer, closer she came, and as she stood before him he looked upon her with eyes that were wild and trusting and wanting, and she was more beautiful than ever before. And then, she reached out to him.

The rain and wind were cool, but she radiated warmth as her cheek pressed against him. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he let it go, exhaling his pain out into the air. Without questioning who she truly was, why she was here, what he was doing here, whether or not this was safe or appropriate or warranted, Mirren simply leaned into the girl, eyes closed tight as her touch wicked away his sorrow. He soaked up the kindness and purity that seeped from her with each and every moment that passed, unwilling to fall away from her. Delving deeper into whatever this was, he pulled away so slightly, so that his breath was a puff of warmth below her chin and he gently slid his nose along the angle of her jaw. The moment was more intimate than he could have imagined, meant more than he would have ever expected, and when he finally, slowly, drew away from her, it was only a distance of inches.

Staring deeply into her eyes, he rose to stand before her, open and raw and given to her unlike he'd ever offered himself to anyone. Without even having known her name and in his moment of exposure, Mirren was powerless in the shadow of all that she was.

(This post was last modified: Sep 13, 2015, 09:54 AM by Mirren.)