Kingsfall to heal a broken heart

just outside of the falls --- takes place within a day or two of Atara's birth thread @Finley but any other PF wolf welcome (i think) after she posts

Jet couldn’t recall a time he’d ever felt such a mixture of conflicting emotions. On one paw, there was pride and love. So strong and intense for the children Finley had birthed. Especially for the daughter that was, at least for now, still with them. But then there was sadness, heartbreak even, for the two that hadn’t made it.

They’d never get to experience life. They’d been born out of their mother’s womb only for them to be destined to return to the earth.  Then there was worry, too, for Atara. Though she seemed healthy for now, he couldn't shake the concern that something might happen to her, too. But he tried not to think of that. The loss was painful enough already.

With two tiny bodies in his possession, delicately wrapped in a bundle, Jet set out at first light to try to find a place to lay them to rest. His wandering had carried him beyond the falls, to one of the larger trees he could find in the immediate area. New plant growths and pretty flowers grew around it where light reached the forest floor, making the area seem as good as any for what he needed to do.

The dark one began his digging beneath its shadow, a hole that was larger and deeper than probably necessary. It provided a tiny outlet for the sadness and anger he’d felt at losing two children, but it didn’t seem to help. Tears he’d held back before burned his eyes now, and he didn’t try to reign in that sadness as he called for Finley.

She’d want to know where they were. Maybe to be here for it. He wouldn’t dream of depriving her of the chance to grieve, too.

The new mother had been curled around a sleeping child when she had heard Jethro calling for her. She didn’t want to leave the baby at her belly, but knew that he wouldn’t have summoned her if it had not been important. It also was not lost upon her that the bodies of their other children who has passed were missing from the den when they had been there just a few hours ago.

With a heavy heart she had called for Chan and waited patiently for him to arrive, urging him to guard the den and that she would be back shortly. The Lennox woman knew he wouldn’t be happy about leaving his own children for long, but hoped that the urgency in her tone would impress upon him how important it was. After only a couple of moments of hesitation about leaving Atara behind, she whined and disappeared into the foliage.

Paws carried her quickly until she saw Jethro standing beneath one of the huge sequoias that helped give the Kingsfall its name. Green eyes landed on the tiny bodies laying next to a hole in the ground at her over’s feet. A quiet sob choked her and the mother close her eyes, she didn’t want to see them but knew she needed to. She took a step closer, eyes still shut as if that would help.

(This post was last modified: Jun 19, 2023, 09:15 PM by Finley.)

Finley’s form manifested from amongst the forest before too long, and quietly, he abandoned the soon-to-be grave to approach her. And, if she’d let him, gently drape his chin across one of her shoulders. An action that was as much for his own comfort as hers.

For the moment, he was glad they were alone. Jet wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else here to see him - them - like this.

”It’s a good place. They’ll.. live on, here.” He didn't like the thought of burying them in the ground, in darkness, forever. When a creature perished it returned to the earth, providing nutrients for all of the lifeforms the forest contained. That was how these things worked. The children would become a part of this little section of forest. So in that way, it was like their lives would still mean something, which.. eased the pain just a little.

But he’d have still far preferred to have them alive.

Finley only opened her clenched eyes when she felt Jethro pull her into an embrace. Seeing them there, so still caused a dry sob to heave from her chest, her body trembling with emotion. Nodding at his words, the mother forced herself to look around at the area that Jethro had chosen. The trees were large and spring flowers were beginning to bloom and fill the air with their fragrance. It seemed peaceful, calm, and safe.

Padding forward cautiously, she froze when she reached the bodies. Tentatively she reached down and licked each of their cold crowns, so small and fragile, also impossibly so. Too delicate to face the cruelty of the world. Sniffling she whispered, ”We should name them. They deserve to at least have that.” They hadn’t been able to give them anything else, but they can give them the respect of being called something before they were buried.

Two little boys, mousy and brown like her own fur. Forcing her brain to leave it’s fog of grief she murmured, ”I was thinking Wilder, if we had a boy I was going to suggest Wilder.” But that had not been meant to be.

He’d been trying to face this with dignity and strength, like he thought a leader should. And like he’d seen Chan and Flair do, prior. To not let the loss eat at him, not when there was still so very much to do every day. As the dark one knew though, ignoring pain did not usually make it go away.

When Finley suggested naming them though, the hint of moisture that’d been threatening to collect in Jet’s eyes couldn’t be held back. Even squeezing them shut didn’t help. The thought of naming them increased the hurt, at the thought of what they’d never have.

Jethro tipped his nose down in a nod, though, in agreement.

Wilder, for one.

”Wilder.  It’s good.” Or.. it would’ve been. It didn’t seem fair that the children would never know their own names.

”D’you believe.. there’s anything.. after?” Jet couldn’t help but question softly. He’d always heard rumors, stories. But had always chalked them up to superstition or fear - only wolves who were afraid of death talked about some kind of afterlife.

Now, though.. he found himself hoping there was something.

The mother had turned her head enough to see Jethro’s tears begin to spill down his dark face. The sight of the man, usually so calm and collected, allowing his grief out here in private gave her some resolve that she knew they could face this. Together they could fall apart alone, but they would need to hold themselves together for Atara, and for the boys, if Caspian ever came home. She reached out gently, pressing her nose against the man’s wet cheeks, licking his chin in an attempt to comfort him.

Did she believe in anything after? She pulled away, a strange wistful smile on her face, ”My mother used to tell me when wolves died they came back as birds so that way they were no longer confined to walk on the ground and instead could take to the skies.” It had always been fun as a child to imagine what flying could be like, wind ruffling her body as she swooped and soared. The smiled faded and her voice was quiet, ”I have no idea if she was right or if she was just making it up but… I would like to think that it’s true, for them.” She looked back to the tiny bodies.

Then, almost as if on cue, an alder flycatcher took off from the tree above the grave, letting out its signature song and shaking its tail feathers as it flew. A single feather floated down and settled into the hole that Jethro had dug, shining olive against the freshly disturbed earth. Finley could do nothing but stare down onto it, shocked and yet somewhat calmed by the occurrence. Maybe her mother had been right.

There was a soft, assuring touch, the sort that made Jet glad he wasn’t facing this alone. It helped to still have one child, living, to dedicate themselves to. If she hadn’t made it, though, the dark one wasn’t sure where that would’ve left him. Certainly not in the condition to be any sort of a leader, though.

My mother used to tell me… Finley started, breaking his attention away from grief for a time, as she recounted something she’d once been told. Indeed it did sound like some kind of fantastical tale designed to entertain children, but.. that was true of most things he’d heard.

Yet he found himself willing to contemplate it. ”If that were true.. they’d be free. Freer than us. But, still able to keep an eye on their loved ones from above.”

Oddly, mysteriously, and almost too timely to be a coincidence, a bird took flight above them. Its song pierced the air, and a singular feather drifted down into the final resting place of their children.

Too stunned to do anything other than blink and stare for a moment. He didn’t know if that meant Finley’s story was true, or just that maybe there really was something after death. But for now, he was going to choose to believe one of those two things was true.

It took a moment to realize a small smile had developed across his countenance. ”Alder? For the second one?” It was entirely too coincidental not to at least propose that.

The mother was still staring down at the feather that had fallen down into the hole, unsure and almost afraid to move as if it would make it disappear. When Jethro spoke beside her a soft smile broke out across her muzzle, ”Alder seems right.” Then she very gently reached down and plucked the feather in her teeth as lightly as she could, intending to take it home and stash it somewhere safe, to remember.

She took a few steps backwards, holding the feather in between trembling lips and waiting for Jethro to begin to bury their sons. She would be here for him but she couldn’t bring herself to participate in this part. Finley could barely even hold her eyes on the scene, wanting to clutch them closed and pretend that she was anywhere else except for here. But, she wouldn’t do that, Wilder and Alder deserved better than that, even if she couldn’t do anything else for them.

She did her best to picture them spreading their wings and flying off together on a hot sunny day, maybe playing on a coastal breeze or racing through a wooded forest. Anything but this.

It seemed right. That was the best he could hope for, given the circumstances, and it made the task still ahead seem just a little bit less daunting. After Finley gently plucked the feather out from the grave, he leaned down to press his nose to each tiny body one last time.

”I’m sorry.” Spoken in the softest of whispers, but not absent emotion.

He tried not to look after that, as each pawful of dirt back into the grave. Tried not to think about just how little effort it took to cover their tiny bodies, marking the last time they’d ever see daylight. Before he knew it, it was done. The loose soil was back in place, concealing the two children forever. As well as likely a piece of each of their parents’ hearts.

Instead of ruminating on that, he tried to hold on to the vision Finley had proposed before. Rather than being forever entombed in darkness, they were free in the light and skies somewhere above.

Unconsciously, Jet found himself pressing back toward his partner, seeking additional solace in her company. ”I’m.. glad you’re here. I.. wouldn’t be able to do this without you.” He’d so often liked to think of himself as strong, not wanting to burden others with his problems or emotions, but this?

If something had happened to Finley too, in all of it, he was pretty sure it’d have broken him.

Finley watched desolate as her partner buried the children in their small grave, so unnaturally small all while the feather wavered on her quivering lips. It wasn’t until Jethro had pressed back into her that she slowly placed it carefully on the ground and leaned into his embrace. From here, with her face buried into the dark fur of the man’s chest that she allowed the emotions to sweep over her and full sobs wracked her body.

For a long time she didn’t say anything, just cried and gasped for air at intervals when her chest felt too tight. Finally, the tears slowed and her breathing slowed to a ragged almost hiccup. Pulling away her eyes were watery and her voice was raw, ”At least I still have you. And we both still have Atara.” The woman felt a small smile begin to tug at the sides of her mouth at the thought, they may have lost a lot, but they had also gained something so beautiful and perfect.

Looking back at the grave longingly, as if her sons would be standing there alive and well, Finley looked for a long minute. Then she turned away, and part of her wasn’t sure she would ever be strong enough to come back here. Then she pressed her side into Jethro and began the journey home, back towards the family that was still there waiting for them.