Charred Ash Draw Life is like a box of chocolates

For @Draven set 2/6 in the evening.

How lovely are the portals of the night

When stars come out to watch the daylight die

Kerb had been nice enough to let her camp out for a little bit. She planned on resting at least for the rest of the day and leaving the next day’s evening. The trip up the mountain was going to be a rough one, it had been a hard trip when she’d been in better health. She’d need all the strength she could get. But, no matter how rough it was she knew that once she got to the top she wouldn’t have to go anywhere else. No, she’d sit by the lakeside from sunrise to sunset. Take in the view that she’d missed so much, like an ache in her heart. Though she hadn’t formed the Cove it still felt like a child to her, something that she’d nurtured for almost two years. Something she’d put her full body and soul into. She wished that her husband could be there with her but she didn’t regret telling him to stay behind, to continue his search for their children. She’d promised him that she’d be there when he returned, that she’d hold out for him. A small smile passed her lips as she thought about him, the ache in her heart growing stronger.

She laid next to a blackened, hollowed out ash tree. Her mismatched gaze looked it over feeling a sense of kinship with it. Both battered, both bruised. Blackened but standing upright at least for a while longer. Holding on, refusing to give up. Yes, perhaps her and this tree had something in common indeed.

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Made by  esa

Draven had settled into a quiet, private routine within the Daw ever since Treyah had accepted him. He did his best to make himself useful and available if packmayes needed him but mostly he tried to stay out of everybodies way. Besides Treyah he knew nobody here, at least my more than a passing polite exchanging of words. He busted himself gathering what herbs he could given it was still winter and seeking out where would be the best place to dig an infirmary in the spring.

If he was being honest he would have to admit that it doesn’t take more than a few days to pick a spot but he wasn’t sure what else to do. He patrolled the borders, filled empty caches and did his best to try and prove he would be a good healer. Or, at least he would be a good healer once the weather turned and he could get some supplies.

It was during one of these secretly useless wanders that he stumbled across a scent that was heart-stoppingly familiar. Immediately his ears flicked back and his paws faltered. Draven could recognize the smell of Namid anywhere, but what panicked him was the unmistakable aroma of sickness that mingled with it. He almost wasn’t sure he wanted to know, he wanted to turn and run the other way but he could never do that to her. Instead he followed we path, and without announcing himself he settled beside her, laying his head across her shoulders. He had never been good with words, and had no idea what to say now.

How lovely are the portals of the night

When stars come out to watch the daylight die

So lost in her thoughts was she that she almost didn’t notice the man approaching. The sound of pawsteps on the snow, however, alerted her to the presence and she moved her head to see who it was. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she recognized the figure instantly, the dark form and forest green eyes unmistakable. For a moment she wondered if he was there on business for the Vale, but a quick sniff sadly proved her wrong as the Draw’s unique scent stood prominent on his pelt. He laid down beside her, something in him tense and she realized that he must smell it and see it. The stench of death. She didn’t say anything for a moment, simply allowed them to bask in each other’s company. Then, her quiet voice reached out. “What has happened?”

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Made by  esa

It's three am

Thankfully, Namid knew him well enough not to start questioning everything right off the bat. She allowed him to lay his head on her shoulders and for a few minutes he just breathed in her scent and did his best to ignore the underlying smell of sickness. He didn’t want to even think about it, it seemed ridiculous, sadistic. How could one wolf lose not one but two mothers to illness and disease?

Because it was clear that he would lose her. If it had been a simple cold or even a minor infection she would have reassured him when he showed up or perhaps come to what would eventually be the medical den for treatment. Whatever this was, whatever it could possibly be there would be no treatment and he would lose her. Draven felt sick himself suddenly and he had to take several deep breaths through his nose before his stomach settled and he was sure he wasn’t going to lose his lunch all over her pelt.

He wanted to ask her a million questions and try to fix her but before he could get a handle on his thoughts and figure out what to ask first he was silenced. Shit. He was so focused on her that he hadn’t even thought about what she had been noticing about himself, ”A lot of things.” That wouldn’t be enough but it was all he could think to say now, ”How long mom?” He had thought about it for a long time but had never said it would loud, she was his mother.

I must be lonely