Turtleback Lake Mad March Moon

Naira. She hadn’t thought of the woman in years, but recalled briefly the woman who had pulled her from the depths of Swift River right before she had drowned. She had later been chased away from the lands – she had broken pack law and bred, and after that had been considered a traitor. It was hard to hold such thoughts against one who had saved her life, and so Kisla had not dwelled upon it. But it would be a lie to say she was not disappointed in her uncle, and she flinched slightly as the story unfolded. Ice wove the recent happenings – of course, she did not recognize many of the names and could only follow his words so much, but she could sense the disappointment in his voice – the upset.

Everyone always leaves, she wanted to say, but swallowed the words, knowing they would partly be a jab to his own disappearing act.

Instead, she fell silent, allowing the silence stretch between them for a moment. “If Serach needs anything, he can always come to us,” she reminded Ice, wondering what else there was to say. “I’ll try to visit soon.” Spring was upon them and the harshness of winter would soon drift away, but she could not leave her pack for a period again so soon.

She drifted away from his side then, pushing back to the softer terrain before giving her pelt a quick shake. The moon hung bright within the sky, and her eyes glanced to the direction of the River – glancing back to him, with his news of the Bend delivered, she wondered if there was anything left to be said between the two. The itch of the season ensured her own frayed nerves – and the absolute need to keep her daughters and other subordinates in line from breeding. Corinna had never allowed another to breed – why should she? Either way, their emotional conversation had taken many turns, and she did not know where to go from here, and so she continued to study him thoughtfully, realizing he had opened up completely to her -- did he expect the same from her?

Like a dam opening, she inhaled sharply, squaring her shoulders as she felt the emotion flood through her. “My mate is dead. He died last spring. My eldest daughter left the pack with my very young granddaughter in tow because she did not agree with how I lead my pack - I chased a snake who posed as a wolf from our ranks when he took advantage of the passing of my mate and the pack's grieving, trying to take the lead position for himself... He filled my daughter with thoughts of a ridiculous religion, and I'm afraid she's gone from us forever.” She paused then, shaking her muzzle slowly. “Three of my children are still with me.. the remaining members of our pack remain small, but they are loyal. But..” She gave a flicker of a smile -- but it did not reach her eyes. “I've never felt more alone.”

(This post was last modified: Mar 11, 2017, 11:00 AM by Kisla. Edit Reason: Wanted to add more. xoxo )

sparking up my heart

The world was a cruel place. He wished he could've spared her from some of the pain—that he could've changed things before they were too late to change. If he had drifted further north.. further south.. so he hadn't had to come in through the mountains. If he hadn't assumed Triell would say goodbye to Serach, so he could've told him that he had to, so he could've saved their hearts some bruises.

But he hadn't, and he wasn't sure he could blame himself for those things.

He wanted to, though. If he could take responsibility for them, maybe he could prevent them from happening in the future. Maybe he could make things better then.

Dreams, just dreams, all of it.

“If Serach needs anything, he can always come to us. I’ll try to visit soon.” He nodded, and his heart tightened in his chest. She was so.. so grown, with a life of her own, and even though she could've been further away, she was still too far away. To leave took some kind of coordination. Permission. He kept himself from wincing. That the world went on without him, and that it hurt him, was nothing he ever wanted to lay at her feet. "I'll tell him," he hummed in reply, watching her with eyes struggling to hide their sadness. "If you don't mind.. I'd like to come visit you, too. I understand that now isn't a very good time, though," he finished with a wry little smile. If Aponi was busy trying to eat anyone who came near her, he doubted Kisla wanted a strange man coming too close to her home. Just.. for tensions. Whoever led Hearthwood River alongside her might not approve.

She started to drift away and he was left to stare hollow-eyed and breathless at the inky black, cold lake. What was it she had said? She had a mate. The question snapped back; what happened to him? And another question hot on the heels of that; what will you do now? Shocked and cold and afraid, he stared at the horizon. He wanted to turn away from it. He wanted to look at her again, and.. and not see the grown Kisla? That was treachery; he was proud of her, and all that she had achieved. He was proud that she had made a life for herself. And he hated himself, for not having been there to support her, and witness it.

Slowly, he turned to face her again, trying to smooth the frustration and conflict from his face. He took a few steps closer, suddenly aware of the distance between them, and terrified of losing her into the cold dark night before knowing that he was, at least, not hated.

She prepared for something, and words started to tumble out.

One ear flicked, once, twice, and then they managed to steady, and focus on her voice. He wasn't at all sure why she finally answered his questions, his prompts, but he would not ask; would not question. He would listen, and he would think, and he.. well, what? Her mate died nearly a year ago. Her eldest daughter left, taking her child with her. Then... the snake filled her with thoughts of a ridiculous religion, and Ice felt the air leave his lungs. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to inhale again.

There—there couldn't be more wolves with stupid ideas like that, could there? It had to be Kisla's grand-daughter he had met, and tried to save, but so foolishly driven away from him. His heart was pounding, light and flighty in his throat, and he did his best to meet her eyes. What she said broke his heart. What she said left him speechless. His pulse was roaring in his ears as he took a few steps forward, trying to bridge the distance between them again. He didn't know where to start.

Somewhere, he guessed. Better than nowhere. "Is there anything I can do?" he found himself asking, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I—I want you to be happy, but... If there is anything.. anything..." She had said he owed Serach the world. He had told her that he knew that. So if she asked something of him that went against that.. well, what the hell would he do? He blinked, and patted at the snow with a paw. "I think I met your granddaughter," he murmured. "Black and silver, yellow eyes. Spoke of a Mother, who guided them to good." His voice grew in strength, and he couldn't keep the bitterness out of it.

let the stars above shine in your soul

Everything spilled from her lips – the bottled up heartache of almost an entire year, if not more. The world had kicked her down countless times – from the abandonment of her father and his theft of her younger brother, to the murder of her sister.. and now the death of her mate. She had enough, and she felt the weight of these emotions shroud her, before releasing. Ice, above all others, would  understand. Ice, above all others, would have done what he could to help.

But there was nothing to be done, and she dipped her muzzle down at his offer. “This too will pass,” she murmured, knowing the wall of stone she placed up was what guided these careful words. It stemmed from more though – the simple fact there truly wasn’t anything he could do when he resided in the Bend, and nothing she would say to keep her from where he should be.. with his son.

She was surprised that he described her d=granddaughter – and felt the sinking realization that Karina’s mind had been so poisoned by the dragon that she had allowed in her ranks – that she had trusted as an advisor – and that she had begun to whisper in her own daughter’s ear now too. Karina had never mentioned much of her religion to her mother – she must have known how Kisla would have reacted. So she could not say the finer details of it, but with a sad nod at the description of the inky girl, she felt a sadness envelop her. She hadn’t even gained a relationship with the girl – Karina had tucked her away as much as she could, and Kisla had been grieving. “That’s Bennet,” she clarified, releasing a gentle sigh.

She did not wish to dwell on it. She did not realize they remained in Relic Lore, and she wondered then if their paths would cross again. Until then, there was little she could do. Karina had run away from her again, and Kisla could not chase her down. Instead, her eyes drifted to the moon, and trailing closer to the pale wolf before her, she finally brushed her nose to his cheek, inhaling his familiar yet entirely foreign scent once more. “Stay with me here for the night – go back tomorrow. Tell me about Serach and his new mate.. of what you know of your time away. Stories from Swift River – anything. I don’t want to go back yet.”

sparking up my heart

He didn't know life could be so painful. Growing up, he had always thought he'd grow out of the awkwardness of youth and magically enter some kind of happy, adult land, where everything was.. great. Not perfect, necessarily, but where things like heartache didn't exist. Where wolves didn't come just to go without a word. Where no one died prematurely, where they all got to be nine years old at some point—where daughters didn't run away to get murdered, or infected with religion. Religion were things of the childhood. Things you grew out of because it was just bizarre to have others tell you you should be killed just because of the way you were born.

The injustice of it had never faded from his mind. And now, that thing was here, too.

He wanted a world where she wouldn't have to stand before him, and attack him time and again for what he'd done; he didn't want a world where she stood cold in front of him, saying that her mate was dead. Ice didn't even know what his name had been. He didn't want her to have suffered, but she had, and it left him in the darkness. He wanted to whine. Promise her everything would be alright from here on out. That things would be.. better.

He was past believing in that, though, and he guessed she was too. And he hated that silence became the thing he turned to, that he somehow thought it was the better thing to do these days—it made him feel like he wasn't even trying. One ear clipped sadly as he heard the name spoken. Bennet. It fitted the dark youth he remembered so vividly, lost in a world Ice couldn't quite bring himself to believe in.

He prepared to say something, then—anything, about how she had seemed physically fine, but defiant.. The way she had made it clear to him that he was wrong and she would not be questioned in her faith, but the words evaporated in his mouth as she leaned closer. Her cold nose trailed along his pale cheek, and he felt his breath come in sharp in his lungs. He.. he had expected her to drift away on the night breeze, the way she had looked from him to the direction of her home.. and instead, she touched him, softly, and he was suddenly very aware of the dry blood crusted in the rents in his skin. It itched. It was a rude reminder of what had happened only minutes earlier—it seemed a lifetime ago, though.

"Kisla..." he rumbled, surprised by the way her name made it to his chest. Surprised, by.. by what she'd said, what she'd asked, and the ghosts the season put in his mind.. the ghosts the season put in his skin, a tingle left behind by that trailing touch.

Idiot. He reprimanded himself mentally, but reached out all the same, trying to lean his nose against her neck, just behind her ear, as he thought of her request. He could stay out all night, no one would care much—he could stay out another week, and no one would care. It was March, after all. No; that wasn't what he considered carefully as he inhaled her scent. "I'll stay as long as you like," he said quietly, just in case she needed to hear it, before going on. "Serach was thrust into the position of leader rather abruptly, when Triell was injured in a hunt last summer, but he has grown well in the role. No one questions it—no one did earlier either, as far as I could tell. I'm.." He frowned a little. He had been so out of touch with his emotions for so long, that finally.. acknowledging them, and talking about his son—sons he amended mentally—was both relieving and alien. "I'm very proud of him, Kis. He's an adult. Responsible. I didn't know anything was up with Aponi until she challenged Spieden, and won. When they tried to soothe her, Serach said, 'we just wanted a chance to lead together, that's all' and that was when it dawned on me. Heritage aside, she's a fine wolf. Strict, but not cruel." He chuckled a little, thinking of Shallow.The next part, he wasn't sure of, but it had to be said, but quietly. "She reminds me of Corinna." A small, sad smile curved his lips. "Oh, and, uh.. I have grand-daughters too, apparently. Sceral went somewhere and found himself a lady and now he's got two daughters, Lena and Amelie. Lena lives in the Bend."

let the stars above shine in your soul

Her yellow-eyed granddaughter was a mystery to her – a notion that left the woman with another shroud of disappointment, though this time it remained upon herself. Still, Karina had not been forthcoming with the girl very often – keeping her within eyeline at gatherings and usually away from her mother. Whatever she had done to warrant such a reaction was lost upon her, and she felt her ears fall flat to her skull, her eyes blinking with the regret as she glanced to Ice. She recalled the day she and Maksim had sought out Oak Tree Bend, once the snow had cleared – she had wanted to deliver the news of her mateship to her mother.. to inform her how happy she was, and that Corinna would be a grandmother. Instead, she had been met with the news of the Bend’s matriarch passing – now, it seemed almost impossible that such time had passed since then that now she was the grandmother.. and Corinna would have been a great grandmother.

Had Ice stayed, would he have become her stepfather? A more youthful Kisla would have balked at such an idea – would have been angered by it, had he taken her mother as his official mate. A bruised ego of a youth would not have understood that she had perhaps not been old enough for him at the time – or that he simply did not love her in that manner. She understood it more now, though it did not hurt any less. But there was the dawning realization that with Maksim buried, and her den so cold at night from the loss, she would never find another love such as that again, either.

But she didn’t seek a great love in which she would grow old with. One to hold her throughout the night, and lead at her side. One to raise children with. That ship had past now, and Maksim had left his widow alone. Now, she only sought a distraction, and to move forward somehow from here.

He touched her – grazing the fur and skin along her ear and she tilted her muzzle further in to his nape, inhaling the scent of Oak Tree Bend, blood and.. Ice. Despite all the time that had past, he still smelled the same, and the nostalgia and heartache that brought with it was almost too much. She closed her eyes as she leaned in to him gently, pulling away only to nudge him as she laid down upon the cold ground by the lake’s edge – spring was upon them, but her breath still showed itself in the bright moonlight wrought on only by the cold.

He spoke of Serach – of this Aponi, who she would likely never believe was good enough to hold her brother’s love. Of her mother, and she once more looked upon the man who had stepped in for her where Indru had failed. Of Sceral, and what his life entailed – she only wished him the utmost happiness. “I guess we’re old,” she murmured wryly, feeling weary despite only holding five years to her name.

sparking up my heart

He wondered what Marsh would say.

Drawn from vivid memory and blood, he had only known Kisla as a youth—Indru's green-eyed daughter, just past her second birthday when he had gone across the mountains, and died. He had never been there to watch her grow up. And he wasn't there now, nearly four years later, when she leaned into him and he pressed the side of his face against her neck.

It was an old ache, an old throb, more present tonight due than it usually was. He sometimes wondered what Marsh would've said of Serach and Sceral. He had wondered what they would've made of Marsh. He wanted, desperately, to have shared his family with him—to extend it to him, because he was family, bound by the fire and blood, that thing which had always drawn his silver eyes, and that thing which had made the rusty wolf spit out Ice's mangled name.

But too many years had passed for him to feel guilty of the half-formed thoughts snapping at his heels, and his awareness of Kisla's warmth. She nudged him, and laid down as he started talking. His breath drifted like smoke, and his muzzle was low, close by her head, until he, too, folded his legs and laid down. Perhaps he was closer than he should've been. Perhaps it was just the cold biting his bones and his wish to stave it off that made him seek contact.

“I guess we’re old,” she said, and he gave her a rueful smile. He had felt old by the time he was five-six, too, driven away by loss and frustration, sunk deep in a black mire. Now, at nine, he felt young again, but there was a lethargy in his bones, a weight that took longer to chase away in the dim hours of morning. "I guess we are," he said, and reached out to kiss the base of her ear. Maybe she wasn't for him—maybe he wasn't for her—but that would never be a reason to leave her alone and lost in the dark. He wasn't much of a guiding light, and he had no idea where he was going, but he was company for the road and he would not leave her so soon after having found her again.

let the stars above shine in your soul

It was not an action spurned by lust or passion – Ice, unfortunately, was a means to an end for the tawny woman, and as his breath drew against her face and ear, her own teeth would nibble gently at him, so very different from the harshness she had grazed him with only moments before. As he sought her warmth and comfort for what might have been forgiveness, she sought him to take a step forward from the sad little widow Maksim had left behind – to remind the world that Kisla existed and she was not the shadow that lingered within the death of her fallen mate. No, she was much more than that – and her life needed to continue despite his having come to an end.

Guilt would follow later, hours after the deed was complete and the sun began to arch against the horizon. It painted the trees in light, and as her slender form uncurled itself from the light silver of her former pack mate’s, she realized with a twinge of regret that whatever had come of this union, none could know – Serach could never know. How would he feel, if she were to carry the pups of the man that had sired him as well? The man that had, in almost every way possible, had replaced Indru in Corinna’s life?

She looked to him for a few stolen moments – the gentle rise and fall of his chest was a sight very familiar to her, but from so long ago. Before, the very sight of him had instilled butterflies in her stomach – now, all she felt was a wave of confusion as it bordered between anger, sadness and contentment. Life had changed drastically in the four years since she had last seen him – she had changed greatly.

With resolve that it best he not know what might occur from their one night together, the honeyed woman crept away as silently as she could, stealing back to Hearthwood River where she was needed the most.

sparking up my heart