Dead Empress Backwater drowning in the aftershock

Since his mother's murder, Asmund spent most of his time hiding. He seemed to have a natural talent for it and was quite proficient at finding the least-trod paths and corners of the Backwater. When desired, not even his sister @Llinnea could find him. Other siblings might have clung to what was left of their family, felt protective even, but he found no comfort in her presence. If anything, she reminded him too much of their mor and what had happened.

Still, there were times when he had to come out and risk crossing the paths of others. His stomach twisted and cramped from hunger that he had so far ignored. Now, it refused to let him neglect nutrition any longer. With a sigh, he pulled himself from the rotted log he'd been nestled within and sought out the nearest cache.

Inger had never really taught them how to provide for themselves, leaving him utterly reliant on what others left behind.

(This post was last modified: Sep 27, 2022, 07:59 AM by Adora.)

At first she had been terrified, hardly able to leave the safety of Viorel's side. She didn't want to play with the others, not even @Sephrina who she'd called friend. Then her bror started disappearing and she couldn't ever seem to find him. She knew he was afraid too, and she was growing afraid for him. Where did he go? Had the monster gotten him? Why didn't he want to stay near her?

Her fear began to turn into anger. Not at her bror, of course, but at her mor. At the monster who took her from them. At this place that held them in a cage of terror. At the world, for this lot in life. She was beginning to understand what unfairness was, and that she ended up on the wrong side of it.

Today, however, seemed to be a lucky day. She was going in search of food, trying to teach herself the things her mor should have taught her, and caught a hint of Asmund's scent. She quickly turned and followed it, finding him nearing a cache. "Azzy!" she cried, rushing to his side and burying her face in his side to breathe in his scent before stepping back to look him over. "Er du såret?" (Are you hurt?) she asked gently, sniffing for any sign of blood or injury.

(This post was last modified: Sep 30, 2022, 03:05 AM by Llinnea.)

Currently traveling with Loach and Claw

Azzy! His ears snapped down against his thin, knotted nape and visibly flinched as though he'd heard a gunshot.

Dritt, he thought to himself, a curse he'd heard his mor utter to herself a sparse few times. Clearly, he hadn't been sly enough to escape notice. The way he was feeling in that moment, he would have preferred those stupid, empty looks of pity the strangers gave them. This was only felt more strongly as Llinnea touched him and fussed over him. With an unintentional hiss he pulled away from her, and tried to busy himself with unburying the cache.

"Jeg har det bra, Llinnea, jeg skal bare få meg noe å spise."
(I'm fine, Llinnea, I'm just getting something to eat.)

He spoke with exasperation that couldn't be helped, just as all these deep aversions seated within his chest were out of his control. Asmund did feel guilty about his own bitterness, that he couldn't be a better brother, but that also stung and the inspiration to do better was, in comparison, minimal. What difference did trying do, after all? Mor had tried to literally her last breath, and...

"... vil du ha?"
(... you want some?)

(This post was last modified: Oct 02, 2022, 09:16 AM by Asmund.)

She had expected Asmund to be at least a little pleased to see her - they'd lost so much so quickly, all they really had left was each other. Instead he pulled away from her with a displeased sound and snapped at her. Llinnea froze, eyes wide with hurt and ears falling back as she flinched away from his tone. "Jeg bare... vi kunne ikke finne deg. Jeg trodde... han kunne hadde..." (I just... we couldn't find you. I thought... he might have...) she trailed off, glancing away from her bror. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, to even voice the possibility that the man who'd ripped their mor from them might have gotten Azzy too.

She sat back, unwilling to leave him, but not wanting to get snapped at again, only looking up hopefully when he asked if she wanted some to eat. "Ja,"(yes) she said, "takk."(please) Even if he was inexplicably upset with her, if she got to sit and eat with him in silence it would be enough to help reassure herself that he was alright. Well, as alright as they could be, given the situation.

Currently traveling with Loach and Claw

Pulling the earth away, his paws scraped fur and he caught a whiff of rabbit. Immediately he began to salivate and his stomach grumbled with anticipation. There was little more excavation to do before he could pull it loose and begin to eat, and he would've worked quickly but then she had to go and mention...

Asmund flinched, his wolfish shoulders leaping while the rest of his scrawny frame lowered defensively. Flashes of what had happened possessed his mind, and adrenaline dumped into his muscles, spreading like wildfire and urging him to run. Instead, he locked his joints, grit his teeth, and did his best to ride out the swell she'd sparked.

Somewhere beyond all of this, as though through an ocean of water, he heard her respond and mustered enough composure to swat at the exposed carcass. It was meant to toss at least a portion of the meal her way, but of course it was ineffective. At the failure he growled "ta det," and abruptly scurried a few paces away from both Llinnea and the half-dug hole before plopping his rump onto the ground with his back turned and hackles hunched.
(Take it.)

Eyes pinched shut, Asmund attempted to take a moment to himself to breathe.

(This post was last modified: Oct 21, 2022, 12:17 AM by Asmund.)

Llinnea watched as her bror worked, digging at the hard ground to reveal food. The smell hit her and it was so good. She was stepping forward to help him when the careless words dropped from her lips and he reacted, flinching deeply before going stiff. Just as abruptly he was trying to swat the food towards her with a growled command before skittering away from her.

But he didn't run. He stopped, though his back was still to her, and hunched down. She took a step after him and paused. She wanted desperately to go to him, to try to comfort him and figure out what was wrong, just like she always had, but this time, somehow, she knew she was very much not welcome. He didn't want her here. The thought hurt, but she waited. She stood in place, frozen in a step, and waited for him.

Currently traveling with Loach and Claw

Asmund tried counting, as Inger had taught him to do when he was too frustrated or upset to manage anything else. With each number, he took a slow, steadying breath. He went as high as he knew to, teujni, and realized then that the shaking in his legs had lessened and that he could think again. He noticed too that he did not hear the noise of feasting behind him, and he peered over his shoulder to see his sister staring at him intensely, the concern practically written across her features.

"... hva?" he asked, hoping it would be clear that he didn't want to talk anything through. Would she push, or spare him the frustration?
(What?)

"Noe galt med den?"
(Something wrong with it?)

He got back onto his paws, limbs still weak but able all the same, and went to the stringy carcass. Az nudged the frozen flesh, then worked to peel a frosty strip off it and thoughtfully chewed. It was good. He'd definitely waited too long to eat...

Llinnea didn't understand what was happening. She and her bror had always been opposites when it came to the world in general, but she thought with everything that had happened he would have been more pleased to see her - or at least less standoffish. Did he not understand why she worried about him?

He finally turned around and all but snapped a question at him, clearly still clearly with no desire to talk to her. When she remained frozen he moved to the food he'd dug up and began to eat. Her own stomach gurgled, but still she... wasn't sure eating with him would be welcome. Why was he so angry with her? "... Vil du at jeg skal dra?" Do you want me to leave?

Currently traveling with Loach and Claw

Asmund expected her to join him, but there was no such luck. He noticed again a lack of movement and sound from Llinnea and lifted his head to regard her once more. Why? Why did she have to make a big deal of it? He was torn between guilt and frustration, and wasn't sure of the reason for either. If she could grieve in her ways, why couldn't he in his? Couldn't they just be, instead of having to address all of the tension and awfulness of the past few weeks that lingered between them?

"I said eat," he spoke firmly in English, nudging the carcass her way once again. He didn't want to take the breath needed to be comforting or kind, didn't want to admit that he hated the memories she always brought with her, and he didn't want to have to be the bad guy. If he couldn't have his mom, couldn't he at least have that?

"... du snakker for mye..."
(You talk too much.)

Llinnea waited, even after her bror started eating. She was almost afraid to move, even more so when he snapped at her in English. They didn't speak that between each other. Llinnea preferred not to speak it at all anymore, afraid of losing what little she had left of her mor.

Finally she tentatively stepped forward and nibbled into the frozen meat, flinching slightly at her bror's muttered comment. She bit back a defensive response, or even a soft whine. She'd come looking to check on him and he was clearly fine, if not grumpy. She should just quietly share this tense meal and leave him be.

He'd come around.

Currently traveling with Loach and Claw