Red Fern Forest set me free, leave me be

@Kyna Dated 12/30/2016

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity

Wren had seen these trees before that much he was certain of. He was beginning to realize he’d made it back, that he’d found parts of his homeland… and the best part was that he knew where to go from there. He was in the final leg of his journey, just a few more days… and yet why did he feel so numb about it? He’d insisted that he needed to make this migration; he had been convinced that he needed to see it again. His mother had never abandoned him – she’d fought to her last breathe to protect them and the rest of the pack from an evil wolf who wanted nothing more than to crush others under her paws. He needed to shake it off, right now, because there were rabbits to catch. He was following the trails and could smell them on the wind.

The bad memories should have stirred up emotions, whether they be negative for the hard times and the status of outcast he felt his family had been labelled… or the good memories, the good times with his Aunt Tani, with Erebos, with Kyna before all of them had given him reasons to walk away and never look back… before they’d left themselves, leaving him alone in the dust. He had intentionally left everyone behind, and he’d prospered for it… he found that hard to regret with a sister who’d distanced herself from him, refusing to so much as speak to him and a father who’d walked away from his mate and pups right before she died…

No, he was spiteful, and bitter, and angry at the world… and that was why he didn’t say anything. The world didn’t need to know his strife with it. He let his fur lie flat, trying to keep his outward appearance calm and he pressed through the forest, snow crunching under his paws. He was certain this was the forest that had been red when he first left home – the one with the strange red leaves no matter the season… and that meant if he headed southwest, following the constellation Lyra he could most certainly return to his mountain home.

It wasn’t much of a home now… it never really had been… the only thing that stood out was the site that use to be marked with rocks and flowers that he’d found in his adventured, nestled in the heart of the heights that warded away storms and wind from the body of the figure that had given birth to him. That was where he was going… and after that? Well, he wasn’t sure where he was going to go after that.

He’d figure it out though… right? He had to, because he was the one who kept pushing on despite what cards he might have been dealt. He might not always take the news the best… but he was strong. He knew that and his mentor had seen it in him too. Roman and Valentina both had never stopped believing in him, pushing him to be the best that he could be, rather than being the weak one… the orphan that was easy to overlook and kill.

No, he needed to focus. He was on the hunt. He closed his eyes for only a second, pulling everything back together as he exhaled, the loudest sound he’d made in probably weeks as he crouched lower on his haunches and hackles as he started to creep along the snow-covered forest floor. His eyes narrowed as he relied on the power stored up in his muscles to propel him across the terrain, the rabbits spooking as he approached, but not becoming aware of his presence fast enough. Soon enough he was pouncing, just like Valentina had taught him, landing on the rabbit as he securely wrapped his jaw around its neck, clamping down and draining the life from its features as blood stained his maw. He was quick to lick it off before picking up the prey and carrying it in his jaws to find a place to settle down so he might be able to enjoy his meal in some semblance of privacy. That… that wasn’t too much to ask… right?

Apparently privacy had been too much to ask the last time around. He had a feeling that as long as he didn’t run into Askan again, he’d be fine and free from the trauma that was attempting to socialize with wolves he had no interest in getting to know.

Ashbash 2016 - Ian Schneider

(This post was last modified: Dec 30, 2016, 12:38 AM by Wren.)

Often she wandered, and though her path was not intention, her feet did carry her towards the home she loved so fiercely.  Not Oak Tree Bend, though she had not disliked her time there, it was clearly not her home.  She could not stay.  Not with all the changes.  Even before then, the young woman had concerned traveling north to be closer to Greer, but all that Aponi had done-- 

No, she wandered towards Riddle Heights, towards the pack grounds her father once held, and this day too, Kyna wandered further south.  It was only once she noticed the ferns that it dawned on her she was too far east, that she ran the risk of nearing the oak forest instead of the slopes she vastly preferred.  Almost missing the scent of another wolf, the woman began to turn.  Frankly, she wasn’t entirely interested in socializing just this moment, until the flash of grey caught her eyes, and her heart leapt into the throat.  The scent was vaguely familiar, and foreign all the same.

Kyna trotted forward, stopping several lengths away from the partially obscured wolf before calling out.  “Wr-wren?  Is that you?”

Could it be?  He disappeared ages ago, surely not.  Maybe her mind was only playing tricks on her…

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@Kyna

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity

That voice sent a shiver down his spine, his eyes snapping up along with his head from his meal to lock on the ghost of a form… a form he knew, and perhaps once called friend. That was a name he hadn’t heard in ages, not since he and Heigen had separated ways, shortly before he’d fallen in and earned the name Whisper instead. The silence eerily crept over his form, his muscles tensing as his ears pressed flat against his skull, pain starting to lurk at the brims of his eyes. He hadn’t expected to see any of them again.

He didn’t trust his voice, already weakened from lack of use… he wasn’t sure he could speak even if he wanted to. It was clear that he recognized and responded to the name, pushing himself up, his entire body stiffening, weakened and worn from the months of travelling by himself, but otherwise healthy with those familiar emerald eyes that tried to bore a hole in her soul… not that he’d ever had much success in it. His jaw set, his tail lashing from side to side as he attempted to snarl at her. It came out weak, hoarse and cracking because his vocal cords couldn’t handle it, the pain and sadness he’d kept cooped up for months and buried against the desire to survive coming to surface at the sight of the familiar face.

He felt so angry, all the time no matter what he did… at Maeve, for not being there when he needed her most, at his father for fleeing, his mother for dying, Kyna for proving just where her loyalties had lied… the very few people he’d had to lean on after his mother’s death had betrayed him for the evil that lurked around every corner… at least that was how Wren had seen it, in the version of events that had taken ahold of his mind. He didn’t dare recognize the fact that his form was shaking still, like he was unsure that right now he was still doing the right thing as he managed one very weak, very quiet word that felt like fire in his throat as he forced it out despite the radiation of vibrations that made his throat ache. “What?” They’d all made their points clear – he was just a bastard child to two adults who weren’t supposed to procreate to begin with.

Ashbash 2016 - Ian Schneider

What?

What was that supposed to mean?  Kyna’s ears flipped backwards, brows knitting together as she studied the familiar shape – familiar and all too foreign, all at the same time.  Admittedly, she had no idea how she’d thought a reunion with her childhood friend would go.  Quite frankly, she was starting to worry he might have died somewhere, lost and alone, and she’d never know.  Never find what was left of him.  But for some reason, she hadn’t imagined her former packmate to be that upset with her, and it took the youth off guard.  Her tail stiffened behind her as she fought against the bristling of hackles – there was no reason to believe he was hostile, even now.

“Wren,” she murmured quietly, chancing a few steps closer to the other yearling.  She was certain it was her old friend, now.  “It’s me, Kyna.”  Though she rather doubted a lack of reorganization was the problem, and she regret the words as soon as they fell from her lips.  “Are you okay?  When you disappeared, I thought you were dead—  So much has changed.”  Silent Moon Plateau was gone, for one thing.  And another--  The words stabbed at her chest.

“…you were right.  About my mother.  She was lying to me, all this time.”

But for some reason, that did not make her feel any better…

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Wren

In that moment, overcome with emotions he was constantly suppressing, he was doing the very thing he condemned everyone else for. He was judging her for the actions of her parents; more specifically her mother… and he couldn’t even see it. Her ability to stay calm seemed uncanny to him, and it was part of the reason he started to let his anger fade away. There was that name, that blasted name that he found himself loathing more and more as days went by. “Whisper.” He corrected, his eyes narrowed still, wincing at the cracking in his own voice and the pain that radiated from it.

Was he okay? Did he look okay to her? Why did she even care about some bastard who happened to be such a burden to the entire pack he’d been raised to see as those who’d protect him. In a way, he blamed his mother for that. She’d been so insistent that he was her little prince and with her death, that illusion came crashing to the ground. He didn’t dignify it with a response… until his silent indifference turned to that of confusion. He was right? What did she mean?

Maybe a child wasn’t so imaginative after all? Perhaps when a child said that he saw a bitch push his mother off a cliff, he was actually telling the truth, especially when he was the first one to find her still-warm body on the ground, completely lifeless… He didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to that. Perhaps he felt a little vindicated? He wasn’t sure, but he was frozen there with his emerald eyes locked on her form, trying to figure out how to process what she’d just told him.

Ashbash 2016 - Ian Schneider

Whisper.

Whisper? Did he want her to be quieter? Kyna’s brows furrowed together as she tried to process the request, not entirely sure just what her former friend was actually asking her for. A single word wasn’t much to go on. It was that, or-- He was asking to be referred to as Whisper? It was hard to gauge what the other wolf was actually requesting, so… For now, the loner would take the safest route, and do both. She could lower her voice easily enough and refrain from using the name his mother gave him, both.

Silence reigned supreme between the pair – but it was nothing like the comfortable quiet that often blanketed her when she visited with Greer. The strawberry blonde felt suffocated by it, nostrils flaring as she sucked in a sharp breath. She expected anger, or maybe sadness, or maybe hatred, but Wren – or Whisper – gave her nothing at all. Kyna swallowed hard, her brows knit together as she crept forward, unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m sorry – that I didn’t believe you, before. I was small. I didn’t know better. I thought your parents always told you the truth.” They don’t, she thought bitterly. Even Phineas hadn’t been entirely honest, but given that he wasn’t a murderer, she considered his offenses far less grave. “I know…it doesn’t fix anything.” Just the way that missing him would never bring her own father back. “But – it didn’t feel right, not to say anything. Not now. Not that I know, finally.”

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There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity

What did she want? Why was she dragging this all back up into the limelight? The questions rang in his head but they didn’t reach his maw like they once would have. It felt tense, and he knew he shouldn’t blame her for what her mother did… somewhere deep down he knew that… it was complicated. Crazy, naïve, grief-stricken… the terms that had been used to cover it all up. Only Erebos had ever believed him, that and maybe his Aunt Tani… but he couldn’t think about them right now. He was just a bastard child, an orphan, what did he matter in the realm of kings and gods?

The answer was simple, he didn’t.

He’d always been told that he couldn’t give what he didn’t have. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing left to give to her. He didn’t have anger, or any raw rage to take out on her, but he also didn’t have any sadness, or comfort, or forgiveness either. He looked away, down at his paws and around the rest of the forest, still letting emotions fade away from his features as his nose twitched slightly to acknowledge he at least heard her. Not that I know, finally. She was right, it didn’t fix anything… it didn’t even change anything. The damage had been done, and he wasn’t who Kyna thought he was, or even who she might remember him as.

He had a frustrated look on his face, letting it slip on though no sounds followed it, his tail lashing from side to side for a few beats. Did he say anything to her? The girl who offered to help him find his father and still treated him the same after his mother died after everyone else looked at him differently. She treated him the same after his mother wasn’t around to protect him anymore. Her approach only set him more on edge. “You’re right, it doesn’t.” He answered with a mixture of tones somewhere between sadness and anger, the very emotions he was trying to block out as he tried to convince himself he had nothing left to say to her. He was trying to ignore the burning ache and the evident pain slipping onto his features from speaking. It felt like his throat was on fire, so that was all he said.

Ashbash 2016 - Ian Schneider

This… This was not going the way Kyna thought it would. Well, strike that. She had literally no idea how this was going to go. Frankly, after Wren disappeared, she’d started to think the other yearling had died, taken by the harsh winter off on his own. When his memory appeared during quiet thoughts, she often just missed her former playmate and never once considered what she would have said, or done different. It wasn’t going to bring him back.

The distress in his voice was almost unrecognizable. Was he still upset with her? Did he still miss his mother? For that, Kyna could not blame him – after watching Phineas die, helpless to do anything for the older wolf, she could understand that at the very least.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do, Wren. Er, Whisper,” she sighed, tail dropped low between her hocks. For a wolf that prided herself in resourcefulness and her quick wit, it was a difficult admission. There was no way to fix it. Until she could master the art of necromancy (and truth be told, her own father would be first on her list), she could not ease this hurt she had cause. “What do you want from me? I don’t-- I don’t want you to hate me…”

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