Sacred Grove Sleep Dealer

For @Sven only please

She had left the North. So used to leaving things it seemed almost easy. An interaction with @Morganna that had gone mostly smoother than expected. No missing limbs or tidbits. Mostly whole except for the empty feeling in her chest. The hole that had been carved out the day she had seemingly floated away from her family. They loved her. She had a child and mate. While everyone else hated her they didn't. Granted she was willing to bet her faith they wanted her dead now. But she prayed and dreamed, which she believed her dreams told of futures. In her dreams, there was always a pale figure. Perhaps her son, perhaps a ghost. It would hover close but never close enough to touch. She wondered if that was the barrier she had made between her and everything else.

The Santoro never truly figured out how or why she had left that faithful day. Had everything happened too fast for her? Had it been the calling of God telling her to stray from where she was? While her faith had been strong and was recently repaired, she wished she had never listened to whatever it was that had told her to leave.

A sick feeling was building up in the pit of her stomach. Too much overthinking ofter drove her to feel like this. Leaning against one of the powerful trees, Piety heaved and coughed. Forcing those emotions to come out from her even if she knew it wouldn't work. Refusing to stop heaving until her throat was dry. Giving up when her throat began to tighten her form slumped down to the base of the tree. "Dear Heavenly Father, what did I do? Why did I do it?" There was no forgiveness, she had been taught that, but maybe there was answers. Almost in response, a songbird whistled above. Looking up she wondered what it was doing. The coldness out was no place for such a fragile bird. Its yellow colors were stunning. Like a spring daisy. She couldn't help but grin despite her down feelings. "My my, are you my answer?" The bird squawked and she giggled. "I don't think so but your company in such time is appreciated." Her muddy eyes watched the bird hop along a branch. Was it a sign? The sun of good times would break through the clouds of misery. Or so she hoped.

# C W T

He was on his way to that dark place of his. @Attica was safely tucked away with her grandmother, having been left with a kiss goodbye and a promise to return by the next day. She would be used to his occasional trips, whether they be to the falls or to @Sahalie. Still, he had to wonder if she trusted he would keep his word each time, or if a part of her feared abandonment as he had when a child. The guilt settled like a rock at the pit of his stomach, but it didnt keep his paws from moving him forward.

He did his best to stay out of the Cedarwoods each time this venture was undertaken, the teenager still unable to pluck up the courage to knock at the Hollow's door even after his run in with @Tomen Lyall. This kept him close to the range, and brought him through the grove each time. Here he'd left a kill, exposed so that the lesser creatures of the world might pick the bones clean for him.

It had been a coyote this time. Craw would be proud, not that Sven still cared what the deserter thought of him.

Picking up the sun-bleached skull, so canine in appearance it made his stomach flutter, he continued on his way. The smell of another, without any hint of pack, did little to capture his attention. Were he not on a mission, he mightve stopped to see who exactly it was. Check if maybe they were worth bringing home. As it was, he ignored the scent lingering in the dead cold air. At least, until a voice joined it.

His legs locked as his ears stood to attention, quivering as they took in the songbird words. A prayer, said so softly, with such heart. He knew that timber anywhere, did not need to recall the memories: they flooded him, and his heart was electeocuted by emotion.

It was not joy.

Panic set in, ushering both the need to rush to her side as well as the urge to turn and bolt, to duck his head down and pretend he never heard her pretty words. Because his mother being gone was his life, the pillar of his being. What would happen if she came back now? What would he do if it was only for a moment? She was the single wolf able to confirm his worst fears. How could he be expected to face that?

And with a skull hanging from his teeth. Panic set in, and the bones were thrown: cracking as they hit the stony, frozen ground. Immediately he regretted the impulse: it was such a waste.

What if she wasnt worth it?

A low moan tunneled out of his throat, tail falling as his heart clenched. He wasn't ready for this. She wasn't supposed to come back. Not when he had fought so hard to learn to live without her.

The dissonance of want and need and wishing rendered him immobile.

"A false memory
Would be everything
A denial
My eliminent" - Take Me Somwhere Nice by Mogwai

The bird had no longer been chirping in reply to Piety's voice. Instead, something else had caught its attention. She wondered what it could have been. The pious woman even bothered to ask as if seeking an answer. "What is it?" Yet instead of the bird giving a squeak of a response there was a crack. Her yellow bird friend had flown off from being startled. Stumbling to her feet she swung her head around, one ear slightly leaning forward.

There were more sounds. A low moan rang out through the cold air. Not being able to contain herself she offered back a gentle whine. Practically ignoring the scent that came with him. "Hello? Are you okay?" But when she had crept just enough to see him it was like a blow to the head. The not-so-small form still familiar, the scent of willows, that little dark spot above his nose, and those gray eyes. A much heavier whine built in her throat. The need to rush against him was battling with the need to drop to the ground. Piety wanted to act so submissively and animalistic like she had when Morganna took her left ear. But she couldn't do that in front of him.

"Is it really you?" Her eyes averted away and her voice so fragile it could break at any moment. She could not handle the truth. The pale woman almost wanted to wish this was a dream. That she was finally seeing the ghost that lingered so close and so far. The sensory overload and sick feeling in her stomach were enough to tell her this was real. Far too real.

She had to wonder for a moment, though. If her child was her, was her lover close by? Were Willow wolves close by? A chill running down her spine but she did not move from her awkward position. Too scared to look at him but too curious to move away.

# C W T

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

His eyes were locked upon the ground, blurring the snow and dirt together into some gray smear that was somehow more dreary than the early season actually proved to be. Indecision felt to be pulling him physically in two, his heart defying his ribcage as every beat was an attempt to break through and run to her. Yet his mind, his spine, his joints were all affected by some kind of acidic ice, begging him to turn away and forget what he heard. It wasn't just up to him, though. Never had been, and never would be unless he cut his ties. This could be Sahalie one day, could even be Attica. The possibility wrenched a low whine from his throat, and the side mixed with that of his mother's own realization.

Is it really you?

Slowly, inch by inch, his eyes lifted. Upon seeing her, they widened, that stormy gray completely encircled by white. It was a hurricane in reverse, he was trapped in the center and the experience was nothing but hell.

"I'm here," he whispered, willing his stiff body forward. His muzzle stretched forward, nose touching her cheek as softly as a whisper. She was real.

"I've always been here."

(This post was last modified: Dec 06, 2016, 06:11 PM by Sven.)

"I'm here,"

A small ghostly touch to her cheek that made her release another soft whine. Her body ached. All the coughing and hacking in the world would not make this type of feeling go away.

"I've always been here."

Without a thought, her body moved closer to his larger ghostly form. Trying to tuck her head underneath his neck and breath into his chest. Skoll would have never let her so boldly touch those tender spots. She hoped and prayed that Sven would let her stay here. Feel him for just a bit. She couldn't dare bring herself to speak to him, though. Nothing seemed right to say but she knew it was wrong to stay silent. "Sven.." His name a gentle weep from her mouth. This was her son, her baby boy, her only boy.

"There are not enough sorries and prayers in the world to make up for what I did," Her voice broke like glass. "There is not enough forgiveness anywhere for you to forgive me.." There was no forgiveness at all. But if there was she knew there wasn't enough to forgive this great sin. She had left him and she couldn't even tell him why. Perhaps that was her punishment. Not being able to offer answers to her greatest issue. For once she was helpless.

Piety sickly hoped she'd be met with teeth. That his own harsh punishments on her would be a hidden form of forgiveness. "Take another ear, take my tail, take my flesh." Her mind thought softly. "Just take anything to replace what I took from you."

# C W T

That touch, that small nudge had been everything he had in him. He wasn't ready for more, didn't want more but she pressed into him all the same and it burned. Guilt joined the melting pot pf emotions, because he should have been overjoyed, should have been filled with relief and love. He still loved his mother, didnt he?

Didnt he?

His name fell from her lips, just like he was a child again, and he began to shake. She started apologizing, at least he thought that was what she was doing; admitting that she was wrong. How many times had he fought to defend her, yelling until his throat was raw, sacrificing his relationships with his packmates, his family?

He was a statue against her embrace, cold as stone and unable to move neither away from her or into her. Nothing about this was alright. He wasn't okay anymore. She was ruining him again, by giving him what he'd always wanted.

"Was it because of dad?" he whispered, unsure of how long it had been since the man who raised him had been called anything other than 'Skoll.'

There were no teeth trying to find blood. Not even movement from the boy who seemed to be a statue. The only reminder that he was even alive and here, was the heartbeat in his chest. She listened to it so finely. Almost like it was a lullaby. But when his voice did break the silence she took in a deep breath. Allowing herself to think momentarily and take in his scents even more.

"I love him. He was, is, my other half.." She paused, her throat given a threat to constrict. "But there was always something so sinister about him. No matter how much light he was given he seemed to curl up in the darkest of corners." Another whine as her legs wanted to break underneath her. Carrying her down to the ground like a wingless dove. "I-I thought I needed to save him." There she went. Rump plopping to the ground and her head hanging. Her muddy, watery eyes did not once seek out the face of her boy. Too scared to see how he would react to her. "I thought there was good. He told me things he had done for me," Her mind briefly wandering to her loving night with Skoll. How he had been so dirty, so bloody. "He tore a man apart for saying they wanted me, Sven. Is that love?"

The sickly feeling in her stomach had grown so much, she was convinced that she could begin coughing up all her feeling and it would flow like a river. "Are you like him?" Her voice almost a plead. Begging to hear that Sven was better than both of his parents. Despite knowing Skoll was her love and the father of her child, Piety feared to raise a child that replicated the dark Archer. With something so dark about them. Yet even if there was something dark in her boy, she refused to see it. He was a beacon of light amongst all odds of an everlasting darkness.

# C W T

She didn't pull away, but at least she didn't try to pull him closer. As the seconds passed them by, the warmth ceased to be unbearable. It still wasn't welcomed, but that was because the fear would not relent the vice grip it had on him and his throat and his nerves would not stop burning. I love him passed from her lips, and he closed his eyes, a deep breath rattling its way out of him. Present tense, after all of this time. Why had he even asked? It was always the same story; Skoll's shadow was inescapable.

Then she uttered that word, and finally it felt as though she had managed to latch onto one of his heartstrings. Sinister. A creature that turned its back to the light, that relished the darkness, that needed saving all while whispering promises and sweet nothings. He thought he'd seen his father for who he was, but this hadn't truly been in his sights. Maybe it was simply Piety's sensitivity, maybe the words weren't as grave as they sounded. His heart raced, and he tried to swallow. He wanted to know that it was the truth, that there was a reason for the whispers in his mind, the rage and its urges. He wanted to still be connected to his absent father. Yet at the same time, the prospect of being anymore like him was terrifying.

She whispered the exemplar he needed, and the truth was illuminated; he was every bit his father's demon.

His breathing turned ragged as he pinched his eyes shut tighter still, struggling to will away the movie reel that began to play against the backdrop of his skull. His father, burning alive with the same anger Sven had always struggled to keep inside, at another's man throat, tearing his skin, shearing his flesh as the blood flew in thick flecks and rivulets around him. It occurred in the darkness, everything was about the darkness, but the struggling duo stumbled into the moonlight and while those murderous, flashing steel eyes did not change, his father's pelt did. It was not the color of ink but an off-white that never looked pure even in the best light, a single blemish above his nose. His jaws released then he struck again, fangs sinking into deep, electric blue eyes.

The shaking worsened, and he almost didn't hear the question that followed.

@Sahalie's voice snaked its way into his mind, snippets of their conversation when he stepped too close to the sun and disappointed them both. Love fucks a lot of things up, It makes me hate myself, There might be so many things better, I don't know why its worth it. Did she know such dark stories? He thought she was wrong, but now he had to reconsider. With all of her light, perhaps she saw even this truth. Maybe that was love. Maybe one day he would kill Alastor (@Kino) and crawl to Sahalie with blood dried in his coat and bare his heart to her like it was meant to be romantic.

It was @Attica alone that caused him to hold out hope that all of them were mistaken, because the love he felt for her was not wrong or tainted.

Even if that was all there was, were the Skolls and the Hecates of the world and he would one day be infected with that horrid kind of love, it would not defeat the good in him that it had them. Regardless of anything else in this world, he would not be the man his father was.

He had to believe that, and yet... Are you like him?

His teeth chattered before he could clench them shut. The truth was so much more complicated than yes or no, and he was not yet ready to admit aloud how close they truly were in even a few vital ways. She was asking about the anger, the violence that seemed to be just as much apart of them both as the skin they wore, yet there was more to him and he knew that. Had proven it, even if just to himself. Well... hadn't he? He remembered the skull, broken and discarded just out of sight from where they were now. What if this was how Skoll started out, too?

"No," he answered, the word hard and heavy in the winter air. "I'm here. I haven't run away, I haven't broken my promises, I haven't failed anyone."

They all failed him. Repeatedly.

"I am... I am not him."

this post was a little meh :c i apologize

He was shaking, her body could feel it and she tried her best to stay still. To be a sturdy figure for once in his life. She felt awful. She should have kept her lips sealed and let everyone believe Skoll was a pure man. Someone that her father and mother would approve of, despite the fact he was most likely the complete opposite.

Her good ear perked at his harsh No. The Santoro woman knew she could count on him. But his words that followed after hurt. "You're better than both your parents, Sven." Her tongue reaching out to plant a delicate kiss on his chin. "You shouldn't have to be, but you are. It seems rather off to say it but, I'm proud of you." If she wanted her family back that meant breaking a few of her own bones and telling the truth instead of living in an overly godly word.

The pale woman finally looked at his face. To see all the damage her tornado of an appearance, so sudden and practically deadly, had caused him. "You're all...grown." She paused briefly to admire him. No longer a little boy cradled up by her chest, waiting to hear a story or learn something. A sudden harsh cough rose and she had to turn her way. Scarff down the feelings building from her stomach into her throat. She had missed so much and it was no one's fault but her own.

# C W T