Thicket of Secrets bartender, pour another round

@Nineva <3

He could do it.

Pawing at the sprigs of dead grass under the melting snow, eyes down and open but focused on nothing, Duck fought with himself. The dense thicket sheltered him from most of the elements, and even though it had snowed heavily in the morning, there was not a single flake in his pelt to show for it. This territory was really the best possible for a wolf like him, he'd realised long ago. Enclosed and secure, lots of places for a small wolf to hide and run away through, his ever-thin pelt negated by how the brambles and trees and foliage protected him from the worst of the wind and rain and snow.

He couldn't do it.

@Miccah was still sick, the pneumonia holding on fast, but at least he didn't seem to be getting worse, and with a mate as loving and knowledgeable as @Aideen, Duck was confident that the dark king would recover fine. It couldn't happen soon enough, of course, but the burden of leadership was not what the Athesila needed to deal with right now. So, while Duckweed was entirely unsuited to it himself, he struggled dutifully and silently under its weight, though his legs wobbled furiously and his back felt like it was going to break.

He was strong enough.

It was fortunate that the Woodlands was such an insular, private, quiet pack. Duckweed thought back to the Lake wolves of his childhood, of how many lively wolves had lived under his parents, how many strong opinions and dominance shifts, and his relief that Secret Woodlands was nothing like that was extreme. Nobody bothered this pack and nobody bothered him, letting the runt get on with his endless self-assigned tasks so that he might try and feel like he was living up to even a fraction of Miccah's precedent.

He wasn't strong enough.

Why @Rayne hadn't yet challenged him was a source of constant anxiety, even though he didn't fear the elder man and, indeed, rather liked him. There were times when Duck wondered if they'd undergone a rank swap just because he struggled to keep his tail any higher than the other's, and yet Rayne treated him the same as ever, the same as Aideen, and Duck realised that if it was going to happen... he would have to initiate that conversation. Because that's what the Woodlands were like; diplomatic, unified, peaceful. It was the only reason he'd coped this long.

He wasn't gonna do it.

The pale wolf sighed, leaving his paw in the muddy snow after his last half-hearted nudge, and lifted his gaze to stare up at the thicket ahead, almost able to visualise where the pack's territory turned into no-man's land. He wanted to go out and be productive, but couldn't help but obsess over what might happen if he did, who he might meet, what abuse he might be too weak to resist. Because the Woodlands didn't deserve having him as their figurehead. It deserved so much more.

He was gonna do it.

His throat tightened, and he though he pushed down the memory of her face, her soft voice whispered in his ear all the same, and he hated that he was going to have to let her down.

Duckweed was the only reason she had left to visit the Woodlands. With Nina passed, her mother and elder brother never returned, her remaining siblings run off, and her father never returned she no longer had family here. And as many visits as had been made, she hadn't enough time to catch up with those closest to her heart and reach out to the rest of the pack with much significance before needing to return. She supposed that now, she had the freedom to change that, and indeed she wanted to, starting with @Aideen. But Nineva hadn't felt stress before as she did lately, and for once she was okay with things moving slowly. Just for a little while, just long enough to get her head back together.

Not that she was the one suffering. It was why she kept her jaws shut about it, and that was perhaps why it was taking so long to sort through the emotions, but it was better that way because then she wasn't taking from others. Like Duckweed. What would he care to hear about her frustrations, when he had his mother to mourn and night terrors to survive, all topped by a heavy lead crown? The wolf was a natural omega. To put him in the position of leadership was almost cruel.

Perhaps that was why, despite the nonexistence of her family, she was making her trips just as frequently, if not more so. Maybe Duckweed didn't need her, but she wanted to be there for him all the same, to see with her own eyes that he was still surviving it all. To be his friend, just as she was Tomen's.

She wasn't expecting to run into him so quickly. Just outside of the pack's domain, alone and seemingly lost to his own thoughts. She wanted to wonder what they might be, but swiftly found she didn't have the heart to. A frown passed over her muzzle briefly before she pressed a smile overtop it.

"Heya," she spoke up, padding closer. "Goin' fishing?"

The stutter was purely limited to his physical tongue, but the way that the words kept tumbling over in his mind felt all too uncomfortably familiar. Anxiety pooled at the pit of his stomach only to join the frayed emotions which had already collected there, the paranoia and self-doubt and guilt and grief which felt enough to swallow him ten times over. Hearing someone approach, Duckweed's entire body tensed before he realised who it was - and the relief mixed in with the rest and did little to alleviate it.

She wore her concern openly, though she placed a smile over the top, and he couldn't help but wonder what she saw from her perspective. A sorry mess of a creature, no doubt. He didn't want her pity but he understood why he had it nonetheless. Her question was light, and under old circumstances might have earned a shy smile, and likely a nod - but not today. He had no heart for it, or for anything so productive.

"No," he said quietly, truthfully, gaze dropping back down to his sodden, muddy paws, wondering if he could bring himself to tell her the truth. @Nineva was his knight in shining armour, wanted or not. She was a creature of action, of determination, of stubbornness. If only he could learn to channel even a fraction of her strength.

His exhale of breath was soft, tiny, but with it went the last of his hesitation. "I c-c-c-can't do it."

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