Spectral Woods mean it truly, sincere heart

For @Sahalie only.
Backdated to Mar 19th, late night. Staying vague on Sven's physical condition for now, set after he confronts Skoll.

Sven could feel nothing but the cold. He couldn't even see his breath, yet it felt to him as though it were the deep of winter once more with air so frozen it could kill. His body shivered as he walked, and his eyes ached. A pass of his tongue wet his nose for the umpteenth time, a show of his nerves that he himself could not quite recognize. His chest felt hollow, as did his head, and the tidal wave of adrenaline that had earlier consumed him left his muscles filled with exhaustion; still the boy pressed forward, through the fog and over terrain only vaguely familiar to him.

Would she even be here? The possibility that she wouldn't caused his head to ache dully, and so he avoided the thought entirely. She was the only one he could think to go to, the only person that might give him the empathy that he craved. He was pretty certain he wouldn't survive one more wolf telling him to swallow it, to just get over the hurricane of emotions within him. Sahalie had always been so kind to him, so soft and genuine in everything that she did. Would that hold through even when he stopped reflecting it, when he let show how he really felt deep down and started telling her of terrible things? Or would it push her away, scare her off, disgust her even? The doubts shook him harder, and he gave his head a violent shake; he had to believe in her.

His nose lifted to sample the air, his heart picking up as Sven actually caught wind of her. He walked faster, a soft crooning noise escaping his throat in hopes of reaching her ears. He would have howled for her, if he wasn't afraid of catching someone else's attention as well. The quickened gait jarred his bruised body, and a soft hiss leaked from his throat at the dull throbbing it caused. Please don't be far, he pleaded within his skull. Please don't be busy. Choking back a whimper, he let out another soft roooo again, desperation leaking into the sound.

(This post was last modified: Apr 06, 2016, 03:03 AM by Sven.)

sorry for taking so long to get to this :CCCC i am shit

The confusing turn life had taken had lead her out into the darkness this night. The women of the pack smelled strange, but just the women. Kyna's scent and even Sahalie's own had not changed in the way that Aponi or Spieden or even that woman's scent and changed. And honestly? She was feeling a little left out. It felt like just another one of those "adult things" that was like a secret kept under lock and key. On some level, sure, Sahalie realized that this was none of her business what was happening to other wolves' bodies. She also knew that the adults took great pains to protect the innocence they saw in herself—why they had kept the truth about Nayeli from her, why Drestig did not wish her to run into anyone "bad"—but, being as innocent as she was the protection felt unwarranted: Sahalie could take care of herself. She was just so sure of it.

The chill of the night air did wonders on the heat of her frustration. As her paws carried her past the borders she felt her angst fade into guilt at her selfishness, and finally a placid acceptance. The adults were just doing what they thought was right, and it felt wrong for her to hold that against them. No one withheld anything from her with any malicious intent. If she was patient, perhaps she could figure the mystery out on her own. And, perhaps, that's what the adults really wanted: to support self-sufficiency. This was more or less the pattern with every other aspect of her life.

The same could not necessarily be said for the wolves of Willow Ridge.

It was not uncommon, when Sahalie was alone and frustrated, for the weight of her privilege to fall upon her shoulders and for her mind to turn to the pack on the other side of the mountain. Greer had made it clear that the wolves there did not have everyone's best interest at heart: they were in it for themselves and themselves alone. Greer wanted to leave, but what about Sven? Her heart ached for all the question she had never asked him. Their relationship was disappointingly shallow: they mostly avoided personal topics for fear of making her friend uncomfortable. But now she was quite sure that steering clear of deep waters had been the wrong thing to do. If only she could throw him a life vest now.

It was in this attitude that Sven's distraught call found her, snaking through the trees and piercing her eardrums. Thoughtlessly, the girl raised her own neck, stretching towards the sky. "I'm coming. Don't move." Her own voice was much bolder: she had no reason to fear being out of bed so late. The adults would not mind. If they heard they would not think much of it: just another one of her many friends. What Sahalie did fear though was the state she would find her friend in. He sounded so sad, like he was at the end of a rope. Had the final straw broke over the camel's back? Had his uncle finally done whatever it was he had been planning? Would Greer be alright? Was anyone alright?

Her concerns fully manifested in the clearing she found him in. He looked battered and he shivered like a autumnal leaf. "Sven!" There was no time to worry how he might take her intrusion into his personal space. How could she stay away from a wolf who looked frozen to the bone? Her tiny body pressed against him as her neck wound underneath his. She was not a large space heater—not even close—but she would be damned if she wasn't going to try. "What's happened? Tell me."

(This post was last modified: Apr 21, 2016, 10:28 PM by Sahalie.)

Her voice tunneling into his ears caused relief to wash down his spine, and despite her message his strides only pressed more frantically forward. It was only when she at last was within his sights that he slowed, one more whine escaping his throat as his tail whipped back and forth against his hind legs. On any other night such proximity would have made him uneasy, but this time he leaned into her touch without a second thought. Her embrace emanated exactly the compassion and concern that he had been craving, and it was all he could do not to lose what little composure he had left completely.

Tell me, she requested. When was the last time someone had asked something so open of him? Sven pressed his muzzle down against her shoulder, pulling her even closer and soaking up all that she would give him. Faintly, it made him ache for his mother in a way he hadn't in a long time, but stronger than anything he felt pure gratitude for his only friend.

His shaking began to subside, and his teeth clenched as he realized he did not know how to answer her. He had never confessed before, did not speak of the past nor share his feelings and this left a wealth of words untapped within him. Was she really willing to be subjected to what would surely be a flood? To just say he'd fought with his dad, or even of his trespass with Hecate wouldn't be enough. What happened had started the night Piety hadn't come back and Sven had been nudged back into that lonely den like nothing was wrong.

"What if..." he attempted, mouth barely able to grab hold of his own thoughts, "my mom. If I told you she came home every night, every night, and now she's just gone and I'm... I'm worried and scared... what would you say?"

@Sven

He was leaning against her now and things felt right. She wanted to allow herself to sigh in relief, but a girl's work was never done and she knew that there was so much more left to tackle. Silence embraced them and she wanted to break it, to press him more just to tell her. Sven needed to tell her. Instead she let him press against her shoulder hard enough that it was beginning to hurt her, but she was truly more concerned about all the things that could be wrong. Was everyone in Willow Ridge dead? Half the wolves? Just Drestig and Jessie on their own had opened a large rift in the pack and her heart.

But apparently the problem was so much deeper than that. It started way before this day and way before Greer and Willow Ridge's problems. Her own body shuddered as she pulled away to stare at him, mouth opened and her face etched into a pained expression, "Sven," she said, breathless, desperate. What was there to say? Her own mother was gone, but this was not about her and it was not a real connection: her mother being gone had never made her worried or scared. "You are so strong Sven, to survive that. So strong." She pushed her face back into his grey and white shoulder.

"You don't have to bear it all alone. Share your worries with me. I can take it. I am here for you and I will always be right here." These statements were not so much the right things to say as they were the only things she knew. This was all Sahalie knew how to do. "I can't make it better, but I can be here."

"How long as your mother been gone?"

Why had he started talking in present tense? His teeth chattered as his heart froze, fearful because he was already fucking it up. Or was it telling? He still felt that way, didn't he? Those feelings had never left him after that night, they had simply been buried by anger and bitterness and other distractions. He looked up into her eyes, and it was utterly clear that he was completely at her mercy.

She said his name, and he almost winced at what he was causing the empathetic girl to feel. Then she told him that he was strong, a survivor. His eyes widened as she pressed against him again, caught off guard by the claims. Never had someone told him those things. They had told him that he needed to become stronger, that he was foolish for the way he felt, for his concern and his undying love for his mother. Could Sahalie really be right when the rest of the world had shouted otherwise? As improbable as it felt, he dearly wished it be so.

Strong was all he ever wanted to be.

His eyes were wet again, and he gingerly set his muzzle upon her shoulder as she made the sweetest promises. Another woman had made them to him long ago, and broken them just as easily. Yet in the pit of his heart, it felt so different to hear Sahalie say it. He trusted her.

"Eleven months," he answered into her fur; nearly a year, now.

"They kept us out on the very edge of the pack's land. Away from everyone, 'cause they weren't supposed to have me at all. No one cared when she disappeared. She was my world and they told me she deserved it, that she had abandoned me." A bite of bitterness entered his voice, making it clear that he had still not forgiven them for this.

"My dad looked for a while but then, he just... gave up. I was looking for her when I met you, and a couple days after that, I actually found her. I wanted dad to come with me to bring her home, I thought he would be happy but he... he was so angry."

His jaws clenched shut, and he nuzzled closer to his sole source of comfort as a fresh wave of anger crawled up his spine.

"I just found out why. He was fucking Hecate. I thought she was my friend, but she was fucking my dad behind my back and that's why he didn't care about my mother. He gave up on her, on our family because his whore on the side was more important and how could you do that to someone you're supposed to love?"

Eleven months. Her jaws hung open: this was her whole life time and nearly Sven's. It was impossible to stop her mind from leaping to Nayeli who must have left almost at the same time. Yet Sven had known his mother, loved her. That extra time with his mother, however short, must have made the difference between Sven and Sahalie. And this extra time had not been a blessing at all: the young Tainn felt complete and all Sven felt was a gaping hole in his life. Her heart throbbed painfully, "Sven" she mumbled desperately.

Sahalie did not, could not realize that there were worse things, not until he gave them life. She stared back at him, eyes wide and horrified as he explained his childhood. How could wolves be like this? Wraith and Morganna and Greer, they had all seemed different to her but not bad different, not different enough to tear these wounds. But someone had done it. The wolves at Oak Tree Bend had never said a damn thing about Nayeli, but this was out of a desire to protect her and Drift rather than to harm them. As aloof and emotionally-stunted as her packmates were they had never said anything so malicious. They were good wolves through and through.

The story swelled wretchedly to a climax: at one point Sven had found her. Would her own father have given up if Sahalie had found Nayeli—if Sahalie had cared to look for Nayeli? She forced her mind away from the symmetry between herself and Sven. This wasn't about herself and it wasn't about them together. Just Sven, only Sven.

There were a lot of bad words gushing out now as Sven reached his boiling point and rage spilled over. Atop her shoulder she could feel the tension in his jaws and in the rest of her body. Distantly, she felt a prickle of fear, but it felt like it belonged to someone else's body. What did fucking mean? What was a whore? Sven had seen so much and his vocabulary was worldly and nearly always terrifying. They were not good words. Hecate and his father were not good wolves. Her heart quivered at the final, damning question, and Sahalie searched herself and found nothing. To her it was black and white: you didn't do that to someone you loved. To Sven or to Sven's mother. But to admit this would also force the girl to admit some evil into her life: she would have to acknowledge second-hand contact with something vile. She did not want these things to exist. She wished her world would shrink back down to the forest, small enough that it could fit only the good wolves that she knew.

"Why have you stayed, Sven?" she said quietly, "You know I'd take care of you, you should know that you deserve better than this. Cause you do, you really really do.  You don't have to stay with your father or that other woman if it hurts like this..." It felt almost irresponsible to let him return. She considered what the boy would do if she stopped him. "I wish I knew the answer Sven..." she added more quietly, "I don't know your dad and I can't forgive or condemn him. I hope he loves you. I hope... I hope he's just....lost you know? Off the trail?" God, this was too painful.

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity

Why have you stayed, Sven? she asked him, and Hecate's ghostly words chased after her gentle voice; Have y'ever thought of just runnin' away? The boy took a deep, ragged breath as he processed everything her truly simple question forced him to consider. Was it really all that natural? Was that what he was supposed to do when things got rocky, just leave? Was that why it happened so often in his life? Even coming from Sahalie, it still didn't seem right. He saw what leaving did. It fixed nothing and hurt everyone.

You know I'd take care of you, she continued and he had to bite down hard on his tongue to suffocate the sob that threatened to shake him. Even if the words she said weren't perfect answers to his dismal situation, the way she was making him feel was and the compassion-starved yearling could not take in enough of it. He wanted to hold onto her warmth forever, and as she continued her words began to offer him an escape that might just allow it.

Slowly, he pulled away from her, leaning back until his nose hovered but an inch from hers. His quicksilver eyes searched those discs of molten gold, making his inner turmoil clear. It was so difficult to truly consider turning his back on what was left of his family an option, but that was because he knew it was a choice he could never bring himself to make. Her honesty turned toward his father, and his gaze fell momentarily, reading the ground beside them as though the answers were written there within the dirt.

It was the question that had gored his heart when he learned earlier that night about Hecate's condition. When the new children came along, would he be left behind just as Piety had been? If Skoll could replace his wife, why not his firstborn child too? Sven did not want to believe it, his father was the last wolf he wanted to think would ever leave him but wasn't he the single wolf whose promises always fell through? That had him hurting so terribly now?

It had been his answer to Hecate, when she had asked him why he didn't just run away from it all. Despite all of his flaws, despite letting Piety go, Skoll had still stayed by Sven; and that meant everything to the boy.

What if he lost that? What if his father was never a dependable man, what if he was always going to make choices that would hurt Sven, even knowingly? What if one day he was gone from Willow Ridge?

"Then I have to help him back to it," he finally answered, eyes lifting once more to capture hers. His voice was raw with emotion, breaking as he continued, "and even if that's impossible... I won't be like them. I won't help spread the hurt, I can't just leave."

Another deep exhale shook him, his muzzle swaying slowly side to side in resolution. He always reacted with anger, had always had this deep urge to hurt just as had been done to him; and he wanted to be different than that, wanted to be a someone important and admirable and dependable. That meant he couldn't keep feeding this horrific machine.

"I want to be a good wolf, Halie. I want... to be what they aren't, to show them-... it has to stop. Something... has to be their gravity, pull them back together and keep them grounded. ... why not me?"

Sven's movements above her head had her worried as he sighed and seemed to grind his teeth—from what she could tell, at least—but she waited patiently for a response. The more emotional the topic the longer the wait times, she had noticed. But suddenly he was withdrawing and his silver eyes hovered just inches away from her own. They were like two clear chips of ice, only Sven was anything but cold—as a wolf, he was probably still pretty cold as a body, she remembered. She tried to offer him a shy smile. The girl had to stop herself from opening her mouth and asking him what he was thinking. It would come. He was a part of the conversation, he would take his turn when he felt ready, she was sure.

Actually, it occured to her that it was strange for her to suggest that he leave, considering her experiences. Sahalie had always fought hard to find the missing ones, thought poorly of her birth mother for leaving, and hated exploration because wolves turned up lost. Every part of her should have screamed that she was wrong, but instead most of her body wanted Sven to come live with her. It was hard having her friend live so far away. They were good friends but they could be better friends if he was with her all the time. She was sure Alastor would like him.

But of course Sven would not give up. She hadn't said he was strong for nothing. Sven said the uplifting things that she should have said, but she felt glad—proud even—that he had come to them on his own. "You are a good wolf, don't ever forget that. You don't have to do anything else to be a good wolf."

"Me saying you should leave is just me being greedy...but," she giggled, "I can't deny your cause isn't noble. Or any different than mine. You're just climbing a steeper slope than me. I've got it easy on this side of the mountain. But if that's what your heart wants, what you need then you have to do it. You be better than them, Sven Archer." Her nose reached out to brush his cheek. "And then you come back and tell me all about how things have changed over in the willows."

Her response was, unsurprisingly, uplifting and optimistic. She told him that he was a good wolf, just as he was. If only she realized that what she knew of him now wasn't the raw nature that was inside of him. There were steps he had taken even to get to this point, urges that whispered to him and that he boldly told no. That meant something to him, however, perhaps even more than it would have if he simply existed as a 'good' wolf. It meant that his struggle, his efforts were worthwhile, successful. Her opinion of him confirmed that maybe he was stronger than he thought himself to be, than what the rest all seemed to think he was.

She then went on to admit that her wanting him to leave was greedy, and it took him a moment for the reality of those words to set in. Could it really be that she more than would take care of him, she wanted to? Was that a subtle admittance that she wanted him with her? His heart warmed at the thought, and even while his body was still weak with leftover adrenaline and he could not yet shake the sickness in his stomach brought on by the prior events that night, a soft smile illuminating his ghostly features. Maybe he was stretching the words too far, but it was still too nice a notion not to entertain. For the hundredth time, she inspired within him feelings that others had stifled and corrected, a simple but meaningful level of affection that he so craved to both receive and return.

She agreed with him, encouraged him, believed in him and it was everything that he needed to hear. The music of her laugh, the honesty in her eyes and the gentle touch of her snout caused his tail to wag, slowly but earnestly. She had always been his favorite friend, but that had really only meant that she was his first choice for playing games and adventuring with. That she had seen and heard all of this from him, accepted and embraced it and said all of these perfect things, deepened what he felt for her incredibly. Now his dearest friend, he silently promised himself that he would make her a higher priority, that he would see more of her and one day would repay her saintly compassion. To get there, though, he would first have to calm the storm within the Willows.

"You've got a cause?" he asked, interest shining within the silver of his eyes. "What is it?"

She'd always been so happy and carefree, he hadn't ever thought that his friend might be fighting her own battle, much less one similar to his. While his tongue was heavy with words he wanted to say, learning about what was important to her mattered more. Sven wanted to learn everything that he could about Sahalie Tainn.