Dead Empress Backwater clipped [m]

AW for one or two others!
RE - Rosemary, you find a dead bird.
TW for uncomfortable descriptions of death, panic, starvation, vomiting, and disordered eating.

Rosemary found that having a more consistent source of food available meant more energy. It was a good thing, she realized. More energy meant that she was able to run more, explore more, learn more. It felt like her mind was clearer and her stomach less empty.

It was a feeling she'd never been acquainted with before now.

Viorel was so kind to let her stay here, and seemingly wanted nothing in return, which made no sense to the girl. Sitting around and doing nothing simply wouldn't do - Rosemary had very little to offer now, but that didn't mean she couldn't learn. In her brief time traveling with Morven and Eclypse, she'd been taught the absolute basics of hunting, and even though she wasn't good at it yet, she was learning. She would learn, and prove herself useful.

She had no goal in mind for the day, though, other than a quiet stroll around the territory, burning off some of the energy that came with eating a decent meal the day before. It was a good day, chilly but not too bad now that she'd put on a few pounds, but sunlight still peeked out from between the branches above her, dappling the forest floor in spots of light and shadow.

It was a good day. But not for everyone, she would soon come to find.

She'd thought it was a rock at first, but as she approached, she saw it for what it was.

Small, thin, curled up like a dried leaf, the tiny bird lay lonely on the ground. Unmoving, eyes unseeing. Had it fallen? Had it been sick?

Had it starved?

Words popped, unbidden, into her mind.

...One night the little girl was so very hungry...

Her mother had been skinny, when she'd fallen asleep and never woken back up again. Had been hungry. Had been starving. Rosemary wondered how she'd managed to live, but her mother still died. Her stomach suddenly churned and wrenched, and she gagged, losing whatever remained of her last meal onto the forest floor below. It was a waste of food, she knew, and she couldn't survive without it. Panic grabbed her, icy fingers gripping at her ribs, and she whined, scrambling away before she could reach back down and...

The thought made her want to vomit again. Stubbornly, she kept her mouth shut, breath escaping in short, whiny puffs through her nose as she stared at the mess in front of her.

(This post was last modified: Nov 14, 2024, 03:27 PM by Viorel.)

Just a note for me! This is the day Hera goes missing but she's been gone only a few hours so no cause for concern yet

Viorel had been giving the new cub some time to settle in before checking in with her. It had now been a week, maybe a little more - he was still finding the days blend together without Vanadis here. He had no reason not to seek her out now and inquire how she was doing, how she was finding the pack, and find out a little bit more about her.

The scene he found was a little gruesome, and his muzzle wrinkled slightly as the acidic scent of vomit hit his nose. Smoothing it down before approaching, he eyes were soft when he asked, ”Rosemary, are you sick? Do you want me to get Clover or Eros?” He couldn’t do much in the way of healing, but was always happy to summon someone who could be of assistance. The smell made his own stomach turn slightly, so even if he did know anything about herbs and the like he didn’t think that he could swallow what needed to be done in the gorier situations.

He waited for some kind of response from her before indicating they should begin walking. It could be towards the infirmary, or maybe just towards the backwater so she could get some water, that would depend on what she said.

It didn't take very long for someone to show up - maybe that was what it was like, in a pack. Someone always there, ready to help you if you needed. But suddenly, Rosemary did not want Viorel. It was nice of him, to show up, to help, but she was struck with the sudden want for her mother.

A pathetic warbling sound escaped her, and at first, she didn't recognize what she was being asked. Was she sick? She'd thrown up, but that had happened before, when she'd eaten too many berries to too much too fast. She didn't have a fever, like her mother did, and she didn't cough or sniffle or sneeze. It was just this roiling in her belly, churning over and over again, and she swallowed hard, fighting back another bout of nausea.

"I'm n-not sick," she said, hiccuping a little, and followed him to the water afterward, obediently taking a drink. It soothed her raw throat, and washed away the taste from her mouth, and ultimately helped soothe the uncomfortable feeling in her belly.

She turned her attention back to the older wolf, eyes creased with worry too heavy for her. "Did the bird starve?" she asked, voice wobbling with emotion she didn't understand.

The new child made one of the most pathetic sounds that that salt and pepper wolf had ever heard with his own two ears. It pierced deep into his heart, and at first he thought she was just upset because she had been sick. He remembered being young and how awful it would feel to get a stomach ache, and had spent plenty a night with his own children comforting them over an upset belly. At six months old she was approaching her yearling size, but her demeanor screamed young - maybe even appearing younger than her agemates and he could only imagine what had happened in her past to make her that way.

She announced that she wasn’t sick, and was quick to take a drink as he implied that he should, and his brow furrowed at her words. If she wasn’t sick then what had happened? The bird? In confusion he turned to look back towards where they had been standing and saw the fledgling that lay among the leaves. Clearly born later in the season based on its size - or perhaps had just failed to thrive amongst its siblings.

He looked back towards Rosemary, yellow eyes soft and he sat in front of her, ”Truth be told? I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. It would be a lot skinnier if it starved, it was probably sick, or injured, or maybe it fell from the tree and couldn’t fly.” As always, honesty was his first approach to dealing with children, even if it was unpleasant. But, that begged the bigger question, ”Rosemary - did something happen to your family? Why were you all alone?” Oh god - please don’t say they starved.

Viorel's words made sense. Surely the bird would've been skinnier if it had starved, like her mother had been. Nia had also smelled bad and been so weak and couldn't stand up, but Rosemary knew from experience that hunger made you sick, too. Still, she didn't know exactly why her mother passed away - only that she hadn't felt well, and that she couldn't get up and slept for a long time before Rosemary knew she was gone.

Was that what starving did? Rosemary had never gotten that sick, but she had felt tired and dizzy and hollow inside. She'd wanted to sleep a lot.

Orange eyes flicked from the bird back to Viorel, and then away again, unsure where to look. She should tell him, shouldn't she? He'd been so nice to her, and maybe it was okay to talk about. Would that make it feel better, she wondered? To not keep it to herself?

"It was... um... just me and my mama," she said, ears pressing back. There was a pang of hurt in her chest. "And I don't know exactly what happened, but... um... she was really skinny and tired, and she smelled... different, and one day she fell asleep and didn't wake up. Like... like the bird." Her throat tightened and her chin wobbled a little. "I met some friends after that, and they helped me, but..." But she hadn't met any more of her family. She knew Sage existed in theory, and should've been here, but she wasn't and Rose didn't know how to go about asking for her. What if she'd died too, and Rosemary didn't have anyone anywhere? @Atlas had said that pack was pack, but that wasn't the same thing as belonging to a family, was it?