Secret Woodlands not being dead isn't being alive

With everything happening to SW ranks right now it's definitely best to get this ball rolling. Puppy, Mily, let me know if you want me to tell you roughly what I want from this thread so that we can get another thread going, set a few days after this, where the whole Miccah-being-ill-thing comes to a head.
Set the day after everybody sees the wind blow, the date of which can be shifted forward a bit if necessary. Duck and Bella left early the day before (linked thread) to go fishing, and said they would be back not long after nightfall. It's now midday the next day, and only Duck has come back.
@Miccah @Aideen @Rayne @Enia @Cinaed

He couldn't stop shaking.

It wasn't from the cold. He barely felt that any more, even though freshly-fallen snow clung to his ratty pale pelt, encrusting him in a layer of pure frost. The chill reached everywhere, hitting his extremities hardest; the moisture had frozen and formed a pretty, faint snowflake pattern over his dark grey nose. His ears felt stiff, like spears of ice, held up not by will but because he couldn't move them.

It was a miracle he could move at all. Yet he took those steps, one at a time, over and over, through the crunching snow which grew thinner the further he got into the thicket. His place of safety and sanctuary, the one place he knew the cruelty of the world didn't touch him and those closest to him, the place which he sometimes felt had saved his life.

He paused to wretch, emptying an empty stomach onto the pristine snow, only a dribble of dark green bile leaving his quivering jowls. The smell didn't bother him any more. He'd left enough patches of bile along the way that he barely acknowledged it, taking another numb step towards the thicket the moment the convulsion was over. Somewhere farther out, in the Blackberry Fields, were connected piles of vomit which had smelled far worse than any of these pathetic little puddles.

But they weren't the worst-smelling thing out there on the snowy fields of Relic Lore.

One step at a time. For the first time in his life, his entire body finally knew what it felt like to be Duckweed's tongue, unable to move in the way that he wanted and in the right amounts; his legs would twitch and he'd mis-step and have to catch himself, and his tail couldn't stay still, and his face couldn't decide which expression was most appropriate for the mess of swirling horror he felt inside, and none of it happened with any conscious input from the wolf himself. Duckweed just moved because his body willed it. If his limbs had obeyed his mind, then he'd either still be out there, or, or...

He had to get back to the thicket.

(This post was last modified: Dec 14, 2016, 03:22 PM by Duckweed.)

She wasn't worried. Plenty of wolves had left for multi day excursions before, and she considered Belladonna plenty capable of handling herself and her son. There could be a thousand reasons their trip had dragged out longer than expected. Truth be told, she had plenty of other things on her mind, still struggling a bit to keep up with everything in her grief. Loosing Nina had been a monumental blow to all of the Woodlands, and moth Miccah and Aideen, who had known the matriarch for so long, had taken it especially hard. That wasn't to say they didn't still care for their duties, if anything they were more intend than ever, on upholding the founder's legacy. But it was just that bit harder, every step just that touch heavier.

It was the quiet time of year now, puppies big enough to handle themselves with minimum assistance, few stragglers at the borders; Most plants dead or asleep… But there was still lots to be done. Out of habit Aideen walked the border in the winding route she always used, passing the spots where she would gather herbs in season. Now they were naked and covered in snow. But patrolling was needed anyway, and it was easiest for her paws to walk the familiar path. Her mind was absent, distracted by the churning thoughts, but her senses still kept watch, and it was the smell that first brought her back to the present. Sharp and sour, it was an odor well known to both a healer and a mother's nose. She instantly swerved to follow it an icy feeling creeping up her back, causing her hackles to rise. It wasn't long until the scent of wolf reached her too, and soon after, she caught sight of the pale figure. Looking as shaggy and broken as the first time she'd met him, maybe even more so, Aideen hardly recognized the boy, and she froze in her steps, quickly realizing what was missing from that same picture. "Duckweed," She called, voice low; "Where's your mother?"

 

Word count: 342

"Speech" Thoughts

 

(This post was last modified: Dec 28, 2016, 03:18 PM by Aideen.)

PLOT WITH ME!

Craving the sound of her voice, needing the comfort and reassurance more than he ever had a child - because he would never get it ever again - the moment that someone soft and feminine called his name, Duckweed's fragile strength shattered. Somewhere deep down, he knew he'd made it, he'd made it back home, he was safe. Why didn't he feel safe? Shaking, he stopped, lifting glassy eyes up to instinctively find who had called him, who had used his name, needing to see her face, see that it was her, that against all the odds she was here and -

And he met @Aideen's gaze, and the sight of her sent the broken fragments floating on the wind, like pieces of a dead dandelion, blown away by the devastating weight of her question.

He sobbed. Once, heavy, and with his entire body. His quivering forelegs almost gave way as he turned towards her, pitching him forward in the snow as he blindly searched for comfort, but he managed to stay stood enough to hobble towards her, every movement bringing fresh sobs which shook his frame until he collapsed against her, shivering and crying softly, never to be whole again.

Duckweed rarely had the words on the best of days. Right then, he felt as though his tongue was left somewhere by the riverbank, his mind numb with the white-hot pain which threatened to consume him.

I'll be waiting for Mily before posting again <3

Ice flowed through the alphess' veins at the empty look in Duck's colorless eyes, a lump forming in her throat; What happened? The only answer he gave was a strangled, hollow sound that made every hair on her body stand on end. He stumbled forwards and she reached out, catching him against her chest as he continued to wail, every sound sending stabs of pain through her heart. "Oh sweetheart," she cooed, curling her head over his shoulder in comfort, holding him close while the sobs shook his willowy frame.

Even though no words fell from the boy's lips, it was clear that something horrible had befallen Bella, why else would he return alone in such a state? But what? Fear clenched Aideen's chest, and she briefly raised her head from his back to howl for @Miccah and anyone else nearby; Hurry! Then she returned to gently stroking the pale youth's crest, soothing noises falling from her dark lips. But all the while, her heart beat rapidly in her chest, terrible thoughts of what might have caused this misery racing through her mind; Please, please..! She silently begged. But at the same time, her common sense told her that Duck would not have come here, sick and crying, without immediately asking for help, if there was anything they could have done to save his mother.

 

Word count: 225

"Speech" Thoughts

PLOT WITH ME!

The dark gray and black pup was outside of the territory for once, following the scent of a hare. The girl had noticed that as of late their food supply was lower than usual and always did her best to find anything she could when it was available. The scent was getting stronger and Enia slower her pace, not wanting to tip her prey off. Crouching down, the small girl finally put eyes on what she was looking for. She just needed to get a little closer in order to- Her movement was caught off when a panicked call came from within the territory. From her mother. Ears flattened on Nia's head a concerned, “Momma!” escaping her lips. Without turning to see whether or not the hare was still within her vicinity, the child raced in the direction of her mother's call, taking care to notice the thorny bushes around her. Now that she was bigger, it was easier to brush into them and she would be lying if she told someone that she had not gotten her fur pulled more than once. As she neared where her mother called, the smell within the pack changed. Enia recoiled immediately, hesitating before beginning her approach once more. What she came upon shocked her. Light brown eyes surveyed Aideen briefly but it was hard not to notice the sobbing Duckweed that was curled up on her mother. The Athesila had noticed that Belladonna and the boy had not been around for the past few days but that was not uncommon for their packmates. Everyone traveled often enough. The odd part of the scene that Enia saw now was that Belladonna was nowhere to be seen. The picture reminded her much of her grandmother's death and her heart ached painfully at the thought. The child's eyebrows were brought together as she approached the pair. Light brown eyes looked towards her mother. All she wanted to do was fix it. Sitting down across from Duckweed, she reached to curl her neck around his in an offer of an embrace of comfort.

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