Skyfall Glen you're my only compass

They had moved north. Away from Morganna’s group. Away from Adeltra. Into the unknown, once again. He did not mind the change of scenery, for the southern woods had held little interest for the sullen boy. They kept their distance from the north and for good reason. Cyril had no intentions of returning to the tundra. Not so soon. The wounds were still fresh and some days Cyril wondered if they would ever heal over completely. His mother seemed to be managing better than he was, but she was still quiet. Withdrawn. Now it was the son tending to the mother, ensuring she got enough food and was warm enough. They had settled between the mountain and the forest, seeking refuge among the trees. Winter still had its hold on the land, making it difficult to trek through the mountain. Cyrl had already made that mistake once before, even if it had resulted in seeing his dear friend.

The friend he’d left behind. Without notifying her.

His head sank at the thought. Eventually he would make his way down south and alert the girl of his new whereabouts. He was sure she would be curious, especially with Morganna passing over the mountain and heading east. Adeltra would soon learn that neither him or his mother had joined the feisty Archer in her quest for land. He just hoped that she wouldn’t be too upset with him for not notifying her sooner.

He meandered along the lake’s edge, his paws dragging over the frosted ground as he set his course for nowhere in particular. This land was still new to him, along with its inhabitants. If they were planning on staying Cyril wanted to get acquainted with the territory.

Lenae was anything but fixed. She was coping, but was that really much of an achievement in the grand scheme of things ? Surviving wasn't the same as living. Her days still felt as hollow as the last, like she was going through a routine that did nothing more than keep her heart beating. Food still tasted of nothing. Her pelt was still splotchy, ugly, and her ribs still jutted out of her sides. She was alive, that was more than what could be said for most Selwyns, or so she thought.

These trees scared her, she feared what darkness hid in their tangled depths, but the prospect of a wide open space terrified her all the more. At least here she was safe and out of sight, out there who knew what sort of things might catch sight of her? She shivered at the thought but pressed on. She was thirsty and in need of a drink to quench her aching thirst. Surely there was a river nearby, a stream perhaps? She wandered on, slipping through the gaps in the low hanging branches when- she squinted at the light that clawed at her eyes. The forest gave way to a massive lake with a mountain in the not so far distance. As spacious as could be. A herd of elk could trample by any moment, or a pack of monsters, both equally as horrifying.

Lenae dropped down to the floor, her belly touching the snow as she cowered. No one could see her if she didn't move, if she was as tiny and as feeble as a mouse. There was water here and plenty of it, but was it worth it ? Was she just going invite bad stuff to happen again? Did she have it in her to be so brash and careless as if she thought history wouldn't dare repeat itself a third time? Nope. No she didn't have it in her at all.

(This post was last modified: Feb 02, 2018, 11:26 PM by Lenae.)

It was a nice change of scenery, the mountain. Even the forest that hugged alongside the massive chunk of stone was more appealing than the striped trees of the south. While the sinewy willow trees were as pleasant as Adeltra had described, they hadn’t felt like home. There was no comfort among them. No sense of belonging. Especially with his older half-brother Sven skulking about. Even if his mother had wanted to join Cyril did not know if he could. He would have considered it, for her, but he didn’t know if he could be completely at peace among the hanging trees. Even with Adeltra present. She would have helped—she always did—but it wasn’t the same.

Nothing was the same, not after his father’s death. The death he had caused.

A sigh escaped him, rippling past his ribs and tumbling off his tongue. It stained the air as his shoulders sagged, his tail flicking idly behind him.

At least he was with his mother. They had each other, that was all that mattered. He wouldn’t leave her side unless she wanted him to, or needed him to.

His nostrils flared; his steps slowing as he began to realize that he was no longer alone. The fur along his side immediately stood on end, the corners of his mouth folding into a dark frown as he glanced around nervously. His mother had made sure there were no nearby packs when she had chosen to settle along the mountainside. But that did not mean the land was void of passing loners. Strangers. His pace resumed speed as he followed the scent, his brows pinched tight as his sunshine-yellow orbs began to comb through his surroundings. Searching for the face that belonged to the strangely familiar scent.

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

M for the macabre

Even as broken as she was Lenae still had her wits about her. She knew she wasn't alone, she could smell them drawing ever closer as the sound of their paws crunching on snow grew ever louder. They-whoever, or whatever they were- sounded big, much larger than herself. Not that it was hard but...If they wanted to do her harm there was nothing she could say or do to stop them. One swift strike to her throat would end it all, snuff out her life as if she'd never existed in the first place. In a strange, awful way it didn't sound so bad.

Wouldn't it be quick, relatively painless? Better than starving at least, or being torn to pieces, or being shoved off a mountain side, or having your insides made outsides or-

An agonised whine dribbled out from between her lips.

She was scared, no change there, but what was she supposed to do? Fight it off, be strong and brave? That wasn't possible, those were qualities she just didn't possess, no matter how hard she tried she couldn't be something she wasn't. A fish couldn't fly no matter how much it wanted to. A snake couldn't run either. This was the natural state of things and Lenae had to accept it or die.

It was then she saw it, or rather him. With one paw outstretched she froze, as if made of stone. That was....she would recognise him anywhere, he had been haunting her dreams for weeks now and he would likely continue to do so for the rest of her days. However long or short.

Wraith.

And he was just that, a ghost, a spectre. He shouldn't be real, or even here and yet she blinked once, twice then thrice and yet still he remained, skirting ever closer.

Her whine turned into a screech as once again she scrambled to her feet and made to dart off with her tail tucked firmly between her hindlegs.

Part of him wanted to abandon the trail for he was not interested in being social; conversing. Strangers used to interest him, for he liked acquiring information, but now he wanted nothing to do with them. He was more than content in spending time with his mother. Or Adeltra, if he decided to make his way over to the Ridge. But making new friends? He’d rather not.

Oh, how things had changed.

A grim frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. While he wanted to leave his path and return to the mountain, Cyril was also intrigued by the scent. He was sure that it belonged to someone he knew but he couldn’t place a name to it. Everything from his time on the monadnock had gone a little fuzzy, for he was trying to block out memories of his father. They were too painful to remember and filled him with an unbearable, debilitating grief.

The sound of movement pulled him away from his thoughts, causing his yellow gaze to narrow as he searched for its origin. There was something there… something just out of reach—the sound that came next caused his steps to cease, halting to a stop as his skin prickled with goosebumps. The fur on the back of his neck stood on end, his ears immediately flattening against the back of his skull. It didn’t sound real, but there was a flash of tawny fur and Cyril knew that it belonged to something—someone. His yellow eyes blinked in recognition as he stumbled forward, his bottom jaw going slack as it fell open. Everly? He breathed in disbelief as he stumbled forward after her pale figure, his brows pinched tight in concern. It couldn’t be—or could it? She had disappeared immediately after the attack… he had tried to look for her, on their quest to the south, but he had not been able to find a trail… and here she was. Was being the keyword, as she seemed intent on fleeing the scene…

Fast wasn't quick enough. She needed to be like a flash of lightning, only there for a moment before gone and never to be seen again. Not in the same way at least. Try as she might, her speed evaded her. She was unwell, nowhere near as swift or as sleek as she had been before the Monadnock had crumbled, but she tried, she really did. Not that it got her far.

Her paw jutted out to the side as she slipped on the snow. With a yelp her skinny form collided with ground, she scrambled to get to her feet, blind panic spurring her on through the pain. That's when she heard it, or rather him call out to her. Her ears flitted to her skull as she pressed her belly down onto the snow. The cold flooded into her , eager to take full advantage of the situation. It was like a slap to her face,a jolt that restarted her system.

That was...He was no ghost, it was Cyril.

Another whine passed her lips as she pressed her chin against the snow. What was she to do? He no doubt thought awful things of her now, she'd ran like a coward, hadn't even thought about staying to help clean up the mess. She just...it had all been too much. Terror had seized her heart and even now it was unwilling to let go, it was the only stable thing in her life at this point. Fear and loneliness, that was all she had. Or at least it had been till now.

Cyril deserved better. Seeing her like this wasn't good for him, he gained nothing from seeing her at her worst. If anything, he ought to have remembered the good times they shared, like the time they watched the stars or those cold nights they spent cuddling up for warmth amongst family and friends.

"Cyril."Was all she said, though her voice was little more than a murmur.

He trailed after her with clumsy paws, unsure of whether it was a good idea or not. If it wasn’t he didn’t care. It had been weeks since he had last seen his yellow-eyed teacher. There had not been a day that had gone by without her haunting his thoughts, for she had left the scene abruptly after witnessing his father’s death. It appeared his worries had been warranted, as the tawny girl had grown gaunt in appearance, her bones jutting out from beneath her unkempt fur. A worried frown creased his dark features, his pace quickening as he watched her fumble and collapse onto the ground. I should have looked harder! His eyes stung. Perhaps he could have prevented her from withering away… if only he had tried harder.

Struggling to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat he continued toward her, his head hanging low as his ears fell against the back of his skull. She shouldn't be alone… not like this. What had happened to her? Now wasn’t the time to ask—not when she was trembling against the frozen ground. She had always been softer than the others, but this… this broke his heart.

Even as he approached her he could barely make out his name as he rolled off her tongue. A low whine escaped him as he slumped into the ground beside her, his nose burying into the soft spot behind her ear. He pressed his body against hers in hopes of transferring as much of his body heat to her as possible. I m-missed you, he managed after a lapse of silence, his own voice cracking as he spoke.

Lenae didn't move when he pressed against her side with a whine that was just as pitiful as her own. His words hurt more than the ocld or the hunger tearing at her insides. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes as she struggled to subdue the hiccupy breaths that rocked her sides. He'd grown so much, how long had it been? Cyril was almost a spitting image of his Father, smaller more leggy but every bit as wonderful as Wraith had been.

Words could not describe how awful she felt, how sorry she was. He had already lost enough, why had she rubbed more salt into his wounds? He needed her, as did Piety and she'd run away like a coward. Disgusting and awful, that's what she was. The fact that he was even giving her the light of day was far more than she deserved. He ought to spit on her, to tear at her skin and make her bleed for all the pain she had caused. But he didn't, he snuggled close and kept her warm. It made her cry even more.

"I'm ssss-so so sorry." She sobbed, curling around to hide her face in the depths of his dark coat.

Cyril did not know what to do. He remained at her side, smothering her with his obsidian fur in hopes of keeping her warm and putting a stop to her trembling. He was quiet, observant, just as Adeltra had been when he’d lost his voice and shied away from the company of others. Questions rattled against the inside of his skull but he kept them at bay for he did not want to upset her further. He did not care that she had run—if he had been in her position he would have done the same. Hell, he had wanted to run as soon as he heard the dreadful crunch of the deer’s antlers impaling his father. The thud! that followed. Cyril had wanted to run after her, to escape the reality of his father’s death, but his feet wouldn’t move. And he couldn’t leave his mother, not after she had just watched her husband get mauled in front of her. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

It looked like Everly needed him, too.

He shook his head at her apology, his brows pinching together in confusion. Why was she sorry? For leaving? He nosed her shoulder softly, another whine escaping him. Don’t be, he whispered in a desperate attempt to reassure her. M’just glad y’safe, he mumbled into her fur as he tucked in tight against her. There was no reason for her to apologize—he was not angry with her. Cyril didn’t even think that was possible. She could have killed another wolf and the boy would have still forgiven her.