Dead Empress Backwater don't wanna cross a line

Sonnet braced herself against the den wall, harsh winds more than ruffling her pelt. Her calls were growing weaker. Adamately she called out into the storm. She didn't care if she woke someone else up, she cared that she might not see these wolves again. She didn't want that! She didn't want them to vanish like her mommy and daddy did. A soft sob broke through her howls, her voice growing hoarse.

At last her voice was failing and she could call out no more, giving one last momentous effort before falling silent. She curled herself up into a trembling ball and waited. Impatiently searching the horizon for any faint figures. She couldn't help but sniffle.

"Speak"

Tonight we make our dreams come true
**Sonnet hasn't spoken since losing her family.

some fairy tales are more than true

The ice scraped against her paws, battering them as she beat against it. She was becoming so weak that her tireless efforts did not matter. She could only keep them afloat, and even that was increasingly difficult. The young girl focused on keeping them above the water. She abandoned her failing attempts to break a path in the ice. keep paddling, don't let go...

Sage's legs were heavier by the second, her vision growing blurry, and just as it seemed they'd sink he was there. Her friend felt like a knight in shining armor as he blazingly jumped into the frigid water. Relief flooded her as the soaking wet weight of Clover was somewhat alleviated. The yearling caught a second wind with the presence of her friend and his powerful strides. The ice was finally breaking and before she knew it her paws were touching again. She lifted her eyes to the barking that echoed out through the storm. Had things been different, a broad smile would have encompassed her features. Her tail would've picked up a steady wag and she would greet him warmly, although, bashful. That was not the case though. Instead, she continued to pull Clover to the shore alongside Eros. Her muscles trembling with each pained movement.

The girl's grip on Clover let loose immediately as she stumbled into Viorel's strong grasp. A breath of relief left her wordlessly, her eyes full of gratitude as he assisted her from the water. She leaned up against the leader, all formalities gone for the moment as they made their way to the shore. Ollie was quick to meet her and she accepted his gentle touch with a weak smile. It wasn't long before Viorel was barking out orders and nudging her to move. Sage looked at him tiredly with a soft nod, then met Oleander's gaze. "Be safe." Her voice was almost a whisper against the howling winds. She felt a pang in her chest as he disappeared.

Shivering from the cold Sage began the walk towards the safety of their pack den. Her soaking wet fur was hardening into clumps of ice throughout her pelt.

"She speaks" She walks She thinks

Dead Empress Backwater

Final round, this will be archived January 20th so please have your posts in by then!

The leader was thankful that he had only needed to go into the water up to the high points of his shins. Even that felt excruciatingly cold once they got out and were subject to the onslaught of wind and snow. He could only imagine how the others felt, the ones who had been fully submerged. Through slightly chattering teeth he murmured a thank you to Oleander who blended into the blizzard as he headed off to the infirmary to gather any supplies that he might need. He had pulled Sage into an embrace to try to share his body heat, trying to ignore the way that her fur began to freeze unpleasantly sticking to his when Seri arrived.

Looking thankfully to the young man he stepped away from Sage and gestured towards Clover, ”Help them get back to the den, they’ll need as many warm and dry bodies in with them as possible. Quickly please, they need to get in there now.” Side stepping a little bit further, he shook as much moisture from his pelt as he possibly could, ”I’ll be back, I’m going to look for anyone not accounted for.” He went to take his leave and hesitated for just a second before calling, ”And be safe, if you need anything please call.” Then he too disappeared into the weather, off to find anyone who had not already gathered.

She slipped under the water, limbs already becoming numb with cold. Something grabbed her by the scruff and hauled her to the surface again, and she gasped for another breath of air. Her front paws scrabbled at the edge of the ice as a third body dove in with them, and as a trio they struggled forth to reach solid ground.

Viorel was there, orders already leaving his lips as Clover focused more on inhaling air into her lungs, unable to stop her muscles from shaking as the air bit into her soaking fur. "Warmth," she repeated, knowing that hypothermia would be the most danger to them all initially.

The rest of the words exchanged between her pack members were lost to a haze as she began to follow in step with Sage, wincing at the pain in her hind leg with every step, but knowing that whatever injury it was could come second to making sure they all warmed up. When she finally reached the pack den Clover collapsed to the ground, shaking like a leaf in strong wind as she curled up next to the nearest warm body.

To Sonnet, it felt like an eternity waiting for the others to return home. She lay there with dark eyes desperately searching the snow. At last, a pair of wolves came into view, flooding the girl with excitement. Her head lifted, tail thumping against the ground as the pair entered the den. Her ears flattened, her initial glee to see them leaving her. Her brows knitted with confusion and her head cocked to the side slightly. Why were they soaking wet?

Sonnet first greeted Clover, attempting to lick her chin and following her as she went to rest. She nestled her tiny body into the cold fur of the woman. She put her head across the older wolf's body, if not rejected, and stared at her. She didn't understand what was happening but was relieved to see them here. Another wet body pressed into her and she turned to look at Sage, reaching her muzzle out to sniff her with a soft whine. Two pairs of green eyes met briefly before little Song turned her attention back to Clover. So long as the other did not move or shift away from her touch, the pup started to groom the adult.  

"Speak"

Tonight we make our dreams come true
**Sonnet hasn't spoken since losing her family.

some fairy tales are more than true

The walk home was mostly quiet, with Sage offering her body as a shield to Clover's from the harsh wind. As they reached the den she noticed the small pup the pack was calling Fox, but ignored her. Instead, her attention was focused on Clover as she collapsed next to someone. She looked over the other woman, tempted to push the pup out of the way when she joined them, but instead opted to curl around her. Sonnet was like a little heater smushed between the two older wolves and for that Sage was grateful for the strange child. For a moment their eyes met and she softly smiled at the girl. Her pink tongue slipped out to touch her nose before the pup looked away.

Sage wished Ollie was here, but she was surrounded by her friends, no, her family, and that was enough. She knew he wouldn't waste time getting to them for treatment. She shivered and scooched in a little closer before letting her head rest across her paws.

"She speaks" She walks She thinks

Dead Empress Backwater

Eros' father and brother were both there to meet them at the shoreline, Oleander having been calling for help while Viorel waded in to ensure all three of them made it out of the water completely. He felt the deep, biting cold of being thoroughly soaked in blizzard conditions, and yet the swift instruction given made his skin prickle more. Suddenly he was the one being fussed over, no longer considered a help. Of course it was true, and unavoidable, and still he felt torn. Like he should be able to shake it off, grit his fangs, and keep going. What if others were still out there, what if the same thing happened to them, or something equally awful?

Seri appeared, asked what he could do, and Eros wanted to ask him to stay with his father. Viorel gave a different command though, and he bit back the urge to argue. He was exhausted, frostbite was setting in quickly as the edges of his ears and nose were literally freezing, and he was old enough (finally) to understand that dissent in a crisis, even if small and well-intentioned, only made everything worse. He gave in, tail and head both hanging as he made the trek back alongside his packmates.

There was, of course, purpose still to be found in watching over Clover and Sage. A crutch for his mother, and a source of warmth for them both once they were out of the wind. He could be found acting like they were the only ones who had taken a dive through ice, curling around them both as well as he could manage, grooming loose water from their fur, and insisting they received the brunt of any care offered.

Your toxic I'm slipping under

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

Vayko was quick to move over to his mate, doing what he could to assist her into the den which was hard to find, requiring an amount of effort. Once Clover was inside, he would press his body up against her, fighting back the shiver that he felt when it came to how cold she was. He had to bite back the soft whine that threatened to escape. There was not much he could do; he was no healer… but he could serve as body heat to help bringing her back to warmth.

“Your leg…” He whispered softly, though it was more of a concerned comment to himself than anything else. He would have to see if there was anything he could learn so that he might help tend to her injuries. It was ironic, how things had turned… it had been him often in her medicine den… but now? Now she was to be the patient.

And so I tell myself that I'll be strong

Seri Donata

and dreaming when they're gone

Seri’s eyes turned to Eros in concern. He did not know much about healing or medicine, but he knew enough to know that the water and cold would not be good for him, and that he would need to find warmth… Clover and Sage both too. He looked to Viorel, who gave him instruction to help them back to the den and he nodded. He made his way to the other side of Sage from Viorel, taking over the act of being a heater for her, concerned that his friend might end up quite ill because of it.

He looked over to Eros once they had gotten them inside, Seri pressing against Sage as he offered her a gentle comforting nuzzle. “Just close your eyes and focus on your breathing.” He felt as if that was a healer thing to say to his friend… right?

On the way to the Infirmary, he ran into Anatole. Alone, the Valle assumed he was on his way to gather his sister or find shelter from the storm. "'ey!" he woofed to the passing yearling, skidding to a stop in hopes of catching the other's attention. "The storm's gettin' worse!" In case Anatole didn't understand, he yelled a little louder. Gusts of wind and flurries pelted down and sideways on both wolves. The closeness and scattered growth of the Backwater trees were not enough to ward off the storm. "Den or shelter! Go!" He could only hope Anatole chose to go to the pack den to add to the collective body of warmth that was the pack. Knowing Anatole and Brielle, or, well, lack of, he had a feeling he would go to his sister and hunker down until then. Regardless of Anatole's choice, he gave the youth a nod before continuing on his way. There was no time to dawdle.

His forepaws were packed with snow by the time the Infirmary came into view. Oleander had to use his teeth to pick the ice out from between them. He ducked into Clover's den and looked from one dark corner to the other before shaking his head. A hiss sounded from his clenched jaw, frustrated. Emerging from the den, he sprinted past it and dove into his dugout. Empress leaves flew out behind him and were lost to the wind and the forest beyond. Where was it? Hot tears stung his eyes and he had to blink them away, paws desperately digging around from the entrance to the back wall. Where was it?! He knew he had been saving it for a very good reason and this was it: to help his mother when she really needed it.

More leaves were dug up and out, scattered all over the clearing. Then, he felt something familiar beneath him. Pale purple buds materialized with a swipe of his paw - the remainder of his store of last summer's lavender. Brows touched as he gathered the thin sprigs between his teeth. He could only hope it was enough.

Oleander was about to turn around when he stomped his forepaw into the snow. Maybe what he had was too much. He dropped a few clusters back into his den and kicked a few leaves back over it. He'd stash it away later. Right now Clover and the pack needed him, and he knew he had enough hyssop to go around to those who needed it.

He galloped across the territory, eyes narrowed as he raced through the gales. Twice he stumbled on a root hidden by the frost, but nothing - not even the storm - could keep him from his family. He was breathless by the time his snow-graced head entered the pack den. Eyes drifting from one pelt pattern to the next, Oleander let a small whine announce his arrival. He stretched his neck out as he ducked halfway into the den, eager for needful mouths to pluck the does they needed. In the meantime, he focused on slowing his breathing and catching his breath.

The Valle had done something good. He needed only to realize it. Oleander was capable of good intentions; remembering it, however, was the other half of the battle.

(This post was last modified: Jan 17, 2024, 11:30 PM by Oleander.)

they say pray it away, i swear,
OLEANDER VALLE
that I'll never be a saint, no way