Twisted Slough in the big rock candy mountains, all the cops have wooden legs
775 Posts
Ooc — Rosie
Astronomer
Master Ecologist
Master Midwife
Offline
#2
During Teaghlaigh’s trip to their new territory, Olive will be experiencing the 7 stages of grief — grief over the pain of Dakarai losing (and regaining) his memory, being brutalized, BFW finding them, being demoted and abandoning Ravensblood Forest… and a little bit of postpartum depression. Each thread will represent a different stage of grief, dated in order (albeit, a little expedited). This thread represents stage three: anger and bargaining. 

Of course, feel free to skip Olive! I’ll bring her in when she is needed and/or addressed.

Oh also, I have literally no clue who’s watching the pups. Feel free to assume that responsibility if you feel so inclined… but let’s pretend that they aren’t alone <3

[table width=85%][tr][td]
The coast was behind them and so was every memory she had with Teaghlaigh; surrendered as if her livelihood was something to be taxed and owed to her oppressors. Blackfeather Woods had stolen the life she had known, and though Olive was generally quite open and accepting of change, this she had difficult reckoning with. Because of those hellhounds, her children would never know the forest she had loved so dearly; because of Blackfeather Woods, Ceannsach had to abdicate the forest he claimed and made his home; because of  Blackfeather Woods, Lotte’s children would be born in place that was foreign and unfamiliar. It was all because of Blackfeather Woods. All of it.

But was Blackfeather Woods really at fault — or was it her? In a past life, Olive might have cast blame completely upon the shoulders of their enemies. After all, such evil existed in the world and necessitated eradication because evil acted without provocation or reason. Wolves like the stygian pack that lived amongst the shrouded, dank woods needed no outstanding reason to seek Teaghlaigh out and threaten their sanctity. Sure, Olive had incited their anger with her desperate breach of their borders… but Olive did not feel such a violent reaction was justified. It was completely unfair — and the universe wasn’t usually so polarized. Where was the homeostasis that was so coveted by everything natural?!

No matter who was at fault, the fact of the matter was that Teaghlaigh was to transpose themselves [and had been doing so for quite some time] in a faraway strath. For a long time they followed the straight and narrow of the coast line but departed from such a trajectory for a more inland pursuit.  Their milieu was dark, dank and uninviting — and Olive felt distrustful of such an ominous location [for she and Dakarai had been slighted by far, far less unpleasant!] but did not voice her concern. Olive rarely did not away: not only was her opinion unwarranted and unwanted, but it was ultimately a waste of energy. Still Olive knew that their scouts and leadership would not put her or her babes in danger, so swallowed her reservations and tucked her family up against the base of a gnarled tree.

Their repose did not last long. The quietude was shattered with a bestial shriek, the likes of which Olive had never heard before. Immediately her feathered ears flicked down and back, pressed hard against her skull. The mother’s breath hitched in her threat and her gaze jumped from family member to family member, wondering if they were as perturbed as she by the clangor.  Slowly, she rose — joints aching and loose breasts swaying and gritting her teeth against the soreness she felt deep in her lower belly — only to be buffeted by a chilling wind. A glance over her gamine shoulder ensured that the cubs were warm with a caretaker. When the wind died, the sound was replaced with a subtle vibration and energy that ricocheted through the earth. Olive felt it through her weakened legs and a wave of vulnerability percolated through her spirit.

I will never transgress again if only you keep this threat from us, she beseeched the clouded heavens above. A hushed growl rumbled from her chest and her pale lips tightened around her teeth, flashing the tips of her ivories to a shrouded audience. Her growl did not fade and Olive assumed a most agitated stance — legs far apart to provide a wide, support base, hackles raised, her quicksilver coat rippling and rising along her spine. Whatever this threat was, she would not be a passive bystander any longer. Perhaps the universe wanted her to fight for whatever she wanted; fight for Dakarai, fight for sanctuary, fight for the trust of her leaders and fight against the evils in the world that wished to do her harm — and she would fight this, too.


 
[/td][/tr][/table]
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams

Messages In This Thread
RE: in the big rock candy mountains, all the cops have wooden legs - by Olive - March 20, 2017, 03:03 PM