Lunette Vuesain
I’ve got my love stuck in my head
She was not the meek, under-muscled pup that had come tottering in, in Reiko's tow, anymore. Her hips and shoulders had filled out with stringy muscles, made for jogging across half the earth, though she still looked liked a right mess. Clumps of thick winter fur hung out from her coat, thinner patches of fine, shiny silver visible in the holes it left. No matter how much she rolled or rubbed against trees, the damn shed hairs wouldn't come out entirely, and she was left looking rather mottled. She had never thought herself vain, but she had been very self-conscious about it, until she saw that the rest of the Draw wolves looked the same, to varying degrees.She wouldn't go so far as to say that she was transformed, or cured, or that there was a new hardiness to her, or some kind of sharp glint in her eyes—she was skittish, she was anxious, she was so eager to please that the idea of letting anyone down was worthy of her being murdered, except death was too good for her so she had to toil on. But making mistakes had been..easier here, somehow. Screwing up hadn't been like someone hammering a nail into her skull and tying her to the mountaintop for birds to pick clean. She didn't think it was the fault of the Cove wolves, just that it was something wrong in her and being on the mountain made it worse, a conclusion drawn from how she had felt during her stay in the Wildwood.
She was still little Lunie, but her body was rapidly changing to look more like a yearling's. Strong, clean legs carried her still narrow frame, but there was strength in her movements. Not certainty, but raw, pure strength—not a lot of it, either, but a marked change from before. It wasn't like she had done a lot of stuff to get stronger, but she had practiced chasing deer on her own. She hadn't caught any, because she was only one wolf, but it had been good practice and, much to her surprise, rather fun to run helter-skelter between the trees, veering around them at high speed. And there were a lot of trees to dodge, the Wildwood was trying to grow over but nothing was large enough to blot out the sun and starve the plants below yet.
Once the sickness, which had set in after her first week in the Draw, had passed, she had been out and about, fishing the Creek, exploring—not too far, just a day or so away at most—and chasing deer. It had left her body stronger, leaner, somehow.
And yet, as she stood upon one of the ridges around the Draw, she felt dread uncoil in her stomach. Dread, at having to tell these nice wolves that she was leaving, not sure if she had properly made up for all that they had given her, or if leaving would be the best way to repay that debt. And not just that, but dread at returning the mountain, to Moonshadow, the disappointment everyone had in her for her behavior towards the black wolf—dread, of the expectations on how she should behave. Dread at the very mountains, their treacherous slopes and dead-drops, dread at how..confined the world was. She had though the mountain large. She had been intimidated by the world beyond, and how huge it must be if the mountain was only a small part of it—but away from the Dire's shadow, the vastness of the world had been..freeing, not frightening. She had roamed for a day away from the Draw and there was still so much more to see, while a day on the mountain led you into the foothills or the Riddle Heights, or the peak itself, terrain that was dangerous and that she did not feel confident on.
She stared down at the space between the ridges. It wasn't home, because she had felt like an intruder, and like she'd been allowed to stay because it was Reiko who had brought her, but.. maybe it was unkind of her to think they would have turned her away, if she had stumbled onto their borders on her own. She bit her lower lip. Regardless of anything and everything, she was strong enough of body to climb back up to the Lost Lake, and if she put it off any longer, the dread she felt at returning might overpower her and she'd never go.
Biting back the anxiety and fear, she tipped her head back, and let her youthful, clear voice call out for Triell, and the wolves of the Draw. She wasn't sure who was the right one to talk to about it.