Redhawk Caldera until all you see is my ghost.

The call was faint and distant, and yet Liffey felt as  though she'd been struck by a fallen tree when she heard it. She'd not been far from the borders, but she turned and cantered to the very edge of the territory, clinging to the last traces of his notes as they faded into the air. The young wolf had known it was coming. She'd hoped and prayed that her courage would come to her in time and she would make the decision before it was too late. But as Rannoch's voice drifted into nothing, Liffey was just as paralyzed with cowardice and indecision as ever.

She slid onto her haunches, staring off in the distance. Her voice felt trapped in her throat, strangling her. She wanted to call back. She wanted to let him know she was on the way and she'd be there soon. But Liffey knew that while it was a song that would fill her with relief, excitement and joy, it would also break the hearts of many others when they overheard her singing it.

Could she do that to her family?

Could she watch her dreams slip away from between her fingers when it had been so, so close?

As Liffey sat at the invisible line that drew the borders of her home, her heart broke as she realized she was apparently going to do the latter.

"Who was that?"

Finley's voice was quiet when she spoke. The howl of a stranger near her territory was not one she would so easily overlook, but when she saw her daughter running towards the borders at the sound, she was just downright alarmed. She had watched the growing pull of the greater world pulling on Liffey harder and harder with rising unease. She had felt that pull herself when she was younger. Hell, she felt it now from time to time. But her experiences had taught her what it was to answer that call. While she was confident that nothing out there could ever damage her, her innocent, naive daughter was a completely different story.

But still, Finley held herself in check as Liffey turned to look at her in surprise as she hadn't noticed her coming - an act that only further validated Fin's arguments against the girl's readiness to venture out into the world. She felt tense with suspicion and worry for what this conversation might bring, as she so often did with Liffey lately for they so often went badly. But Fin held tightly to her control over those emotions, knowing her daughter would never tell her a thing if she came at her with that sort of negativity. At least, that's what Elwood kept telling her...

Liffey hadn't realized her mother had followed her, nor that Finley was even nearby enough to have spotted her. She fell instinctively into a submissive posture, dipping her muzzle guiltily. It took a few seconds before she realized this and tried to straighten, knowing it made her look like she had something to hide. Which she did, but her mother didn't need to know it.

"That was a friend of mine," she replied, trying to sound casual as she averted her eyes to her mother's chin. She wanted to say more, maybe to even offer a different topic to distract her, but Liffey was at a loss and could only lick her lips and give her coat a telling shake.

Finley felt her brows aching from the effort to not narrow them at Liffey's behavior. God love the girl, but she did leave her every feeling written all over her. She suspected it was the Elwood blood in her. Fin had never had difficulty lying with everything at her disposal - posture, expression, mannerisms, and least of all words (or lack thereof). She supposed she should be grateful Liffey was too good for dishonesty, but it just made her worry all the more as she knew what the world could do with that sort of heart.

"A friend?" Fin asked, stepping towards Liffey as she eased into a more relaxed aspect. Her tail wagged amiably as she peered ever so casually out into the wilds beyond her territory. "Who is this friend?" Her head itches to turn and look at the mostly healed scratches on her daughter's flanks that apparently could have been far worse were it not for some of these supposed friends her daughter was just collecting left and right these days.

Liffey swallowed anxiously as her mom asked for more information. She seemed pretty relaxed, which did put her slightly more at ease. But the continued pursuit of the topic kept her on edge. She shifted as Fin moved past her, looking out in the same direction as her mother with the sudden wild fear that Rannoch might randomly himself appear. Liffey didn't even know what she would do if that happened...

"I met him the other day," Liffey replied, trying to sound nonchalant even though it would have been hard to casually talk about this particular boy under any circumstance, really. "He's my age. We just hung out for a bit, looked at the stars and stuff. It was nothing, really."

So. Said friend was a him. Finley quirked a brow at her daughter in spite of herself as she went on, obviously unaware that every word was making it harder and harder for Fin to control herself. New friend was a boy. New friend was a boy who was the same age as Liffey. Liffey hung out with a strange boy the other day who is the same as she is. Looking at the stars together with a strange boy of the same age.

Yeah. Fin had done that one or fifty times in her youth as well.

"Is this one of the friends who was around when that wolverine attacked you?" Fin asked as dots began to connect in her mind. They were the wrong lines to the wrong dots and really didn't need to be drawn in thick, bright red marker but you know. Her mom alarm was about to start ringing in her ears if this boy was both taking her daughter stargazing and saving her from wild animals. Not that she was opposed to her daughter's life being saved. She was just opposed to romantic, young knights in shining armor.

Liffey felt herself bristle at her mother's question. There was just something about the way Fin said things that caused the girl to feel like she was under attack. They had not really spoken about what had happened with the wolverine, but she'd known that her father had told Fin about it. She'd actually been pretty amazed that her mom hadn't said more. She figured she had her dad to thank for that, but it was hard to remember now that she was kicking herself for thinking that she was in the clear, as that was clearly not the case.

"No," Liffey answered flatly, having no desire to say anymore. She looked away towards the Caldera and got to her feet, thinking now might be an opportune time to make her exit so she could mourn being left behind in peace.

Just like that, Liffey's entire demeanor shifted. Now Fin went ahead and let her brow furrow as the girl stood and turned her back on her. Why was it always like this? What had she even said? Was she not allowed to ask questions? About boys? Stargazing boys? Boys that come to Fin's territory and sing songs to her daughter?

"There's no need to get all worked up; I just asked a question," Fin replied to Liffey's shoulder (cause she turned away, remember?), now only half trying to keep the exasperation out of her words, "I'm your mom, remember? I'm allowed to ask about my kid's boyfriends. It's in the job description."

Before she had taken a single step, Fin was berating her. Liffey stopped but didn't look back until the attack was over, at which point she merely glanced behind her, the boyfriend comment a painful sting on her chest. "Okay fine," she replied, "You asked. I answered. Can I go?" 

Liffey could feel herself beginning to crumble. The crushing disappointment that her friends were leaving without her was bad enough without a mother daughter battle royal on top of it. She didn't want to fall apart. It just gave her mom more to judge her for, and she didn't know how much more of that she could take.

Finley frowned at her daughter's response. Just once she wanted to see her act this way towards Elwood. She couldn't even picture it. Her mate could have asked Liffey the same exact questions, word for word, and she would have just told him all about it and everything else going on in her life without a second thought. But with Fin, it was a fight. It was always a fight. And though she knew she ought to just let it go and let Liffey cool off, Fin just couldn't. She had to fight to protect her kid, even if it meant she was fighting that same kid.

"Nope," Fin answered lightly, settling back on her haunches as though they were about to have a real great time, "I want to hear more about this boy. If your little stargazing session was 'nothing really', how come he's at my doorstep, calling for you? Does he know about your accident? Is he checking on you? What does this apparently unimportant young man want?"

Liffey winced as Finley barreled ahead, tossing questions at her as though it was nothing. As though she was completely oblivious to how every single comment was like a punch in the gut (which she obviously was). The young wolf felt herself bristling all over again and though she knew she shouldn't engage, she found herself turning and letting the emotion pour from her.

"I told you, it is nothing," Liffey replied, feeling years stinging her eyes, "He's leaving. That's why he called, to tell me he's leaving. It doesn't matter who he is or was or whatever. They're gone. It's over." All of it was gone in her mind. The adventure, the freedom, the happiness that Rannoch's pack had promised for her. It was too late to have any of it. She had dallied too long deciding whether or not she could leave her family, whether or not she could hurt them like that. Now she'd lost what she knew now she had really, really wanted.

Fin felt some satisfaction in that one split second her daughter had stopped and begun to turn back towards her. She felt like she had won, that soon enough Liffey would tell her about this guy and they could talk about it. But when Fin saw fire in her daughter's eyes, she knew that was definitely not about to be the case.

Liffey's outburst surprised her. She had not expected so much emotion, so much passion. She'd expected denial, maybe an omg idek, or maybe - just maybe - resignation and honesty. Finley didn't know what to make of this. Her mind reeled with all the things this might mean, but she zeroed in on one particular point that alarmed her more than anything else.

"Hey, slow down, kid. It'll be okay,," Fin said, standing and moving towards Liffey with more tact than she had shown previously, "What do you mean by 'its over'? You said you only hung out with him once. How is.. what's over? Did something happen between you two?" Like penises?? No, she kept that in her head. But her concern had tempered her so she approached with far more gentility than usual. It was clear that Liffey was hurting. There would be time to murder all the fuckers later than made her little girl sad, but she truly in her heart wanted only to console her in that moment.

Liffey tensed as Fin came towards her, but recognized the lack of threat in the movement. Her mother's demeanor is shifted, and Liffey felt so very tempted to just let herself go. She just wanted to fall apart. She wanted to run to her mom and cry and tell her how heartbroken she was that she'd been left behind. She wanted to just admit to all the things she'd been thinking of lately - her desire to travel and find herself and a place she belonged. To admit that she didn't feel like she fit in here anymore, that even in the Caldera it felt constantly like she was being left behind, and that was why this just hurt so badly.

But... she just couldn't. She couldn't run to Fin with all of her fears and her hurt. Not when she was the one who was at the heart of it all. It was Fin who put the pack before her. It was Fin who wouldn't help her develop her interests. It was Fin who didn't trust her to take care of herself and wouldn't give her the freedom to explore and travel. Fin was the one leaving her behind here.

So why shouldn't be the one to do the leaving for once?

"I am not a kid anymore, mom!," Liffey snapped at her, taking a step away, "Why do you not get that? I'm not a kid. I don't have to tell you every stupid thing you want to know. I don't have to explain every little move I make to you. I can take care of myself. I can go where I want, when I want, and you can't tell me how to live my life. It's my life, not yours!"

She hadn't even noticed the shift in her posture as she spoke. Liffey rarely took a stance of authority. She had taken so easily to submission and neutrality when she was younger, but when she had stepped back from her mother, dominance fell naturally on her suddenly squared shoulders and lifted chin.

Finley's eyes widened and her hackles prickled along her spine as Liffey seemed to snap. The girl unloaded on her and while Fin was stunned, she reacted instinctively to the show of dominance. Her blood began to boil at the words Liffey threw at her. Someone had very clearly forgotten their place and Finley's instinctive need to protect hers overrode her desire to take care of her pup.

"You forget, Liffey," She replied, her voice soft and steady, but loud in its authority, "You're not just talking to your mother when you speak to me. You're talking to your alpha. And as your alpha, I have every right to every single part of your life. It is my job to take care of this pack as a whole, which means everyone staying in line, pulling their weight and keeping themselves well and able to contribute to the pack's future. If that means you don't get to run off with your friends and stupidly put your life in danger, then you just have to deal. You are pack. Your life isn't just about you."

It had taken Finley a long time to learn it. Even when she'd served as beta for the pack, she still couldn't say she had fully grasped it. Only now that the Caldera belonged to her and Elwood, that it's legacy was theirs to protect, did she understand. And she'd be damned if any child of hers was going to take as long as she had to get it.

Her mother returned the display, and Liffey felt her resolve shudder under the force that was Finley Blackthorn. A small part of her wanted to be impressed by this silver wolf with more balls and personality than her tiny little frame could possibly contain. But instead, she smarted at the sting of her words. Her uncomfortably true and unforgivably shaming words.

"I'm not part of this pack anymore," Liffey spat back, shaking as she said it, "I haven't been since you decided it was more important to be my alpha than my mom. I don't belong here, and I am done following an alpha who only sees me as just some other wolf in their pack instead of actually seeing me."

Liffey felt like there was fire burning through her veins as she spun away from her mother and began to walk away, her eyes on the horizon.

Fin's eyes narrowed viciously at the look of defiance on Liffey's face as she began to reply. But when all was said and done, she felt ice coursing along her spine and down towards her toes. Never in her life had she felt so incredibly small as when the girl made her final remarks. Finley felt as though all the air was being swept from her lungs with the motion of her turning away. All of the anger, all of the frustration, everything she had inside of her was suddenly nothing to this feeling of helpless panic that beset her at the sight of her daughter walking away from her forever.

"Liffey, no," she barked. She darted forward as though to physically drag her back, which she was prepared to do if that was what it took. "You can't just leave like this! What about your family? You brothers? Your dad? Your cousins? You can't just go, you do belong here! You belong with your family!" Fin was shaking as she leaped to catch up to the retreating wolf. Her little River. Her daughter. Her kid. Being stolen from her once again by something she could not control.

Liffey did everything in her power not to react as Finley threw knives at her heart. All she could think about as she walked away already were her brothers and her dad. How would Eljay handle his? What we should do without her twin? And her dad? How could she possibly exist in a world where she didn't see them every single day? Where she didn't fall asleep beside them, and run with them, and hunt and play with them? She forced herself not to think of it. She couldn't, otherwise she would never be able to do what she knew in her heart she needed to.

Liffey felt it in her paws when Fin rushed to her. At the feeling of her mother brushing against her flank, a feral snarl rose in her throat as her hackles rose and she spun, snapping her teeth at her mother's face to drive her back and away. She hadn't planned it and was powerless to fight the instinct once it had taken her. Her legs were stiff as she growled a warning note to her, making one final, clear statement that Fin was no longer her alpha. That this part of her life was over, and she would not be bullied into looking back.

It wouldn't be till much later, after Liffey had exhausted herself from running, that she would allow herself to mourn everything she had sacrificed, and to pray that what she'd done it for would bring her the happiness she so desperately needed.

Liffey spun with snapping teeth and Fin too reacted on instinct. She bristled and snarled as her lips peeled from her teeth. She stood just as tall and dominant as her daughter, fire in her own eyes that blazed as brightly as the embers that had always burned on Liffey's. It was understood by Fin completely in that moment that she had lost. She had lost this fight, lost a member of her pack. Lost her daughter.

The alpha watched for a long time after Liffey disappeared into the Wilds. It would be a long time still before the horrible, emptying shock wore off and then she mourn everything she had lost today. And to pray that wherever her little girl was, she would find the happiness her mother had failed to give her.