Ravensblood Forest the swirling stream of what is and what was

Let’s go home, @Dakarai!  Let's forward date this a day, if you're okay with that.

Tagging for awareness, and of course’s everyone welcome :) @Arturo @Chusi @Lotte @Evelyn @Chaska

Home had seemed so far away for so long.

The pale sylph had somehow convinced herself that she would never see Ravensblood Forest again. Never see the spunky Chusi or the cool and calculated Arturo; if she had known Lotte at the time, Olive would have mourned her too. The thought had entered her mind when Dakarai was in the throes of his fugue state [for who was she to return home to the family, filled with the, and demand their support?] and then again when she witness her lover, stripped of any semblance of peace, baring his teeth and drawing the blood of a wolf once under his tutelage. It had been horrible! Without Dakarai, without Teaghlaigh, the lamb was sure she and her precious babies would have perished a most tormented and belabored death. 

But that was not to be their fate; not this time, at least! As the duo crested a small hill to glimpse the darkness of Ravensblood Forest on the horizon, Olive grinned triumphantly at her rehabilitated husband. They had made it; finally, they would be safe. Safe from any wolf or  berserker ungulate creature who meant to do them harm. They would be strengthened by the bleeding timbers and support of those closest to them — there they could convalesce and focus on nurturing her growing pups. But now she was exhausted, having completed the very flight Dakarai had taken all those months ago. Or had it been years? Nowadays, it was hard to tell anymore. 

Olive’s grin broken into a set of heavy, close-set breathes. She was injured; her ankled twisted and bruised; the pale fur of her light, bird-like limb stained with a smattering pinks and reds. Her customary lithe gate had been replaced with a limp. Dakarai was wounded too; thought they were injured, together they cut a fast pace across the Teekon Wilds. They wanted home more than they wanted anything, including recovery. The enciente shwolf’s condition also greatly impacted her mobility, for almost every morning she was ravaged with nausea and was left weak for hours afterwards. Though she was but two and a half weeks into her pregnancy, it was already easy to perceive. Olive’s petite, waifish frame meant that any sort of new contour showed greatly . Her belly swelled in the slightest, most delicate way, carrying low on her frame. Though she was thin and weak from her sickness, their travel and the harshness of winter — this she was proud of.

Now was not the time to concede to exhaustion; they were so close! Without a word Olive pushed on towards Teaghlaigh, cutting loose a fatigued yet triumphant call at their borders: the revenants had returned.