Laurel Thicket my heart's in a drought, please send me the rain

She wasn't really sure what was carrying her out this far. She knew Pip and her mate - the one Daddy had run off and for some reason, Papa had deigned him worthy to join the pack while they were away?? - were living out here since she gave birth. Just one pup, she'd heard. She bet it was runty.

Ophelia's ears fell back against her head. Even if she didn't care for the omega, she knew it was wrong to make fun of an innocent pup. It would have hurt her feelings as a youngling, so she made a conscious effort to not even think cruel things of the babe. At least until she was given a reason.

The raucous sound of crows pulled her attention. Tan-tipped ears raising high, her green eyes swept the trees while her nose searched the air. Something was rotting nearby. A kill?

Expecting to find birds surrounding a carcass, Ophelia was surprised to stumble upon a dining fox. It took one look at her suddenly bared teeth and fled into the brush. Strange... Usually they put up more of a fight over a meal even if it was scavenged. She drew closer to the upturned earth with a frown. A mole tunnel, maybe?

The yearling froze as the dark-tipped hackles along her shoulders prickled. While the three little bodies were riddled with bug trails and gaping wounds where birds and maybe the fox had taken pieces out of them, they were unmistakably wolf pups. They looked barely even born, arrested in their development as they were by death's embrace. The only discernable scent that came from them consisted of rot and earth. They spent more time in the ground, Ophelia surmised, than beside their mother.

It wasn't a large leap to make. Pip's birthing den was somewhere around here. She'd not been by to see the pup, but did mothers really only have one at a time? She thought of her own Mama and her own loss this season. So Pip, too, had lost children.

She didn't like the mute. But Ophelia wasn't heartless. Rather than risk anyone else finding them in such a fashion, the pale princess gingerly plucked the pups up. As tiny as they were, she managed to get all three at once and tried not to think about what other organisms may be hitching a ride inside them.

They deserved better than this. A deeper grave? That hardly seemed fitting. Ophelia's thoughts went to Pip's supposed heritage. When Tyne was around, he'd spoken of the ocean on occasion. A big lake with rapids that moved in time and rhythm. The closest they had to that in Cedarwood were the rapids of the rivers. Supposedly, all water went out to sea.

The yearling hunched her shoulders, head lowered as she moved quickly. She would hate to be found doing such a thing. Ophie wasn't even sure she could explain if someone caught her. No doubt she was doing something awful, especially considering whose pups they were. Even worse, she guessed, if they actually realized she was being kind. Then they would expect it of her all the time and she'd never be able to reach their raised standards.

Upon reaching one of the river banks in the forest, Ophelia lowered her head until the pups and her muzzle dragged in the rushing water. Gingerly, she opened her maw and let the little ones be carried away.

"Find the sea," she murmured quietly as if their ghosts may hear her.

There was only so much time the devoted mother could remain penned away in her den caring for Roland. Oula needed to stretch her limbs, feel the cool breeze ruffle her coat and fill her lungs with fresh air perfumed by the zest of cedar bark. At first Roland needed to nurse frequently, and as the days passed his little puppy frame quickly filled out. Already it seemed he would be taking his stature from his father, seemingly much larger already than she had remembered any of her previous litter being at this age. Each day he grew a little bigger, stronger, more aware of the world around him, and she knew soon he would be making his way outside the den and exploring.

But for now, her child wasn't quite ready for any of that yet, but at least didn't need to suckle as frequently. Which gave Oula a good opportunity to slip from the den without worrying that he might go hungry or wander out on his own. Oula ventured towards the creek, tracing along the riverbank with nothing in mind besides enjoying the sights and freedom.

The musky scent of old carrion hung in the air, causing Oula to lift her nose curiously. Ophelia was nearby as well, and Oula picked up her pace into an easy trot. She found her daughter just as the girl lifted her head from the water, Oula catching a glimpse of something drifting away with the current, though she couldn't tell what. Oula's rounded head tilted slightly. "Ophelia," She called out as she came closer. "Was something spoiled?" She asked, trying to make heads or tails of what she had walked in on.

The pale princess stiffened and spun to face her mother, hackles raised minimally while guilt swamped her features. Her tail tucked a little as her ears fell flat against her head. Perhaps a few months ago, she would have been able to humblebrag about the deed she'd done. About how she'd taken mercy and given a good send off to Pip's lost pups. But now, she felt only sorrow and worry that maybe it wasn't what she should have done.

"Mama..." Ophelia's voice was frail and quiet. As it would often get when she was younger and trying to wheedle her way out of trouble when she'd felt her siblings were bullying her and she was justified and yanking too hard on Felix's ear or snapping at Joan's muzzle. She hadn't used that tone in so long. Not since she'd found her loud and demanding one. But there was no room for that voice right now. She was sad and worried and...hurting. They weren't even her pups, but maybe they could have been friendly even if she did dislike their mother. They were packmates that hadn't had a chance to be packmates.

Despite herself, fat tears rolled from peridot colored eyes. "Mama, I did what I thought was right." She pleaded now for understanding, hoping that she wouldn't get anger back for it. "They were just there and a fox was trying to snack on them and I chased it off and I thought they deserved better than just getting picked at like carrion," she sniffled. "I think they were Pip's. Three of them. Or what was left. Mama, they were so tiny. It's not fair. They didn't have a chance. Just like the one you lost. I'm sorry, Mama."

And for all her faults, Ophelia was genuine at least in this sorrow. Pups were supposed to romp around in the dirt and play and fight with their siblings and learn to hunt, not rot in the ground. She felt sick and her gut rolled at the taste that still linger of their broken flesh on her tongue. She sat on the edge of the river and turned away from @Oula to stare at the water until loud sobs stole her breath away.

A lynx has left behind the remains of a deer. +5 Health