Moonspear stupid piece of shit

Inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnYgJ2s7dNg

Despite feeling much better physically, Rannoch's mind ran rampant with negativity. It kept him awake most nights, as @Liffey slept soundly at his side. Rannoch didn't dare to allude to such feelings, as he didn't want to drag his unsuspecting companion into it all. During the day, the Iota found himself much stronger, but at night he crumpled under the weight of his guilt. His worries were spread out, his thoughts ranging from the pack that he had abandoned to his wayward sibling.

He sighed heavily, thinking of Titmouse and Redshank; tonight's main thought. Suddenly worried that he had been too loud, he looked to Liffey to see if she had stirred. Thankfully, that had not been the case as she seemed undisturbed by the noise. Not wanting to risk waking Liffey anymore, Rannoch slowly rose and tiptoed out of the den they shared. 

The night greeted Rannoch with a cold slap in his face, and he flinched at the difference in temperature. Rannoch was fairly accustomed to the brisk conditions, and, despite this familiarity, he had not anticipated the evening to be as cold as it was.  Negativity was quick to swarm his mind after his initial shock, and he drew himself further from his den. Once he was at a reasonable distance, a separation in space in which he could wallow in his feelings without disturbing Liffey,  Rannoch sat upon a ledge that overlooked Bramblepoint. Though he wasn't that high up on the mountain, he could see for miles. But even with his peaceful perspective of the valley, Rannoch was still troubled. 

"You're a real piece of shit for leaving those kids behind," Rannoch thought to himself, his eyes downcast and his shoulders hunched. "They'll freeze once Winter fully hits. You realize that, right?" And with this thought, tears welled in his ocean-like eyes. "Rannoch, you're a fucking numbskull for allowing yourself to almost get murdered and leaving those kids behind. You didn't deserve the Vale, anyways." 

It was there and then that Rannoch allowed himself to weep openly and quietly.

After a long round of patrolling, Hydra decided to take a (brief) break. Long-legged strides carried her ever-upward, and she thought with her stomach as she followed the scent-trail of a rabbit. It took her little to no time to find it and strike it down, and with a triumphant tail arc the Beta picked her way upward again. A breeze informed her that Rannoch was nearby and, thinking then that she hadn't stopped to see him in a while, the yearling altered her course to make certain she ran into him.

The minute she saw him, she shouted: Rannoch! but, noting his shaking shoulders, she knew something was amiss. Drawing nearer, the Beta was suddenly given pause. What if he was crying? She could not handle crying. No, he couldn't be crying. Why the hell would he cry? She stood where she was, staring at his back.

"Rannoch!" a familiar voice called, breaking the silence that comforted him. He was jolted by the call and straightened instantly when he realized who had spoken. Rannoch's pale cheeks were damp with the residue and quickly, in an attempt to normalize his appearance, he hastily wiped a forepaw over his eyes. 

"H-Hey Hydra," he said, returning her greeting as he slowly turned to face her, "you're out late." Rannoch's voice was light and his expression brightened as he looked respectfully at the Beta; a drastic improvement to his appearance just moments prior.

There were dozens of thoughts that ran through her head as she observed him paw at his own face. And Hydra went through every option of her own personal "choose your own adventure", considering each of them from a selfish, self-motivated standpoint.

Option 1) Regard that he was crying, verbally, and ask what was up. This would have him believe she cared, and thus have his trust in her grow.

Option 2) Regard that he was crying, tell him that there was no point in dwelling on whatever it was he was crying over if it made him feel badly... so that hopefully, he'd never cry again.

Option 3) Disregard that he was crying and let the dude save some face. This would make her look neither good nor bad, in her opinion... but perhaps better than worse.

Option 4) Walk away, let the dude cry—he'd then know her obvious discomfort in these sorts of situations and know she wasn't someone to cry to.

It was a relatively quick process, her decision making, though she shifted between all of them with no true preference for any except maybe four. If she was being honest, she wanted to walk the hell away from this situation. Seriously, there was nothing she hated more than dealing with tears. Hydra hardly had the patience or the capacity. But, after wavering between all options, Hydra settled for Option 5—

Pretend to be Lyra, and comfort him.

Fuck.

Her eyes went downcast, and she softly corrected him: Lyra, her ears flattening meekly. I like coming here, sometimes... to look at the stars, that much was true. There were better views, but there was also something to be said about being what felt equidistant to earth and sky. Uhm... are... are you okay?

To Hydra— no, Lyra's news, Rannoch's expression grew visibly intrigued. "Lyra?" he repeated as he gave her a once over. The last time they had spoken, Lyra had been less than pleased for reasons that were still unknown to him. It was odd to him that she had been so forthcoming in her approach and it left Rannoch all the more confused. "You're talking to me now?" he asked with a quirk of his brow, unable to fully believe that he had been forgiven so easily.

Hydra looked appropriately bashful for the words he said; she knew Lyra was upset with Rannoch, of course. But Hydra, clever and perceptive, found her way around her sisters anger. You looked upset, and her gaze swung toward him, soft and warm. That's more important right now. Yes, perfect. It was known Lyra was a healer; today, she would work on healing... this.

She was at a loss, though. Hydra herself was no good at this kind of stuff. Do you... want to talk about it? That seemed appropriate, to start with. And if Rannoch wanted a way into Lyra's good graces, he would take her up on it, Hydra believed. Otherwise, Lyra would let him be. She allowed her body language to speak, too, as she inched toward him slowly: I'm here for you, if you want.

Lyra's explanation seemed logical enough to Rannoch. After a moment of silent contemplation, he accepted her word with a nod of his head. "Thanks, Lyra," he replied kindly, shedding any trace of suspicion that he had previously felt. 

She prompted him then, inquiring about his sadness. He frowned, unsure of how to word it. 

"I'm just worried about the wolves I left behind at the Vale," he said. Choosing to be honest about his feelings had been a decisive choice, but, he knew that it was the right one. But even with his certainty, to be frank, Rannoch wasn't sure where to go from there, and instead of elaborating, he looked to Lyra to allow her a moment to speak.

Lydra was quiet for a moment, becoming completely Lyra as he accepted her word. Not that she would have changed her story had he not accepted it then. I am Lyra. When he explained himself, Lyra shook her head. Oh, but you didn't leave them behind, she said gently, you were hurt—they know that! Hydra told them, she explained. Lyra lowered her head, wondering if she had gotten what bothered him right, hoping to help him as best as she could.

Rannoch considered Lyra's words and mulled them over before he spoke again. She was right, he decided, but her interpretation didn't explain why he felt the way that he did. 

"You're right," he replied with a sigh, "But, I just can't help worrying about them." His ears lowered as he contemplated the longevity of his guilt before elaborating his concern, "And I don't know how I can stop feeling this way, either." 

Lyra nodded her head in empathetic understanding as he continued. You care about them, that's normal, she comforted him, I am sure they worry for you, too... but at least they know you are in good paws, and at that she smiled. She was quiet for a moment, looking bashfully to her paws, before she looked to him and spoke: We... we can go there once Winter passes! I would love to see it with you, her words were a breathy admission, shy and soft and uncertain—maybe he would not want to go with her. She looked to her paws again, and then over his shoulder, suddenly anxious by the thought that he would deny her.

Rannoch was comforted by what Lyra had offered, and though the feeling would not last, he was content at the moment by what had been said. "Yeah, that would be nice," he replied to her offer with a smile, his tail wagging as he thought of visiting his old stomping grounds. He knew that Liffey would want to go, too. But, given the pair's previous interaction, he cast that thought aside in favor of keeping their conversation friendly. 

"Thanks, Lyra," he said after a pause, his head dipping in appreciation. "I know that you didn't have to come over here and help me; that was really nice of you." 

His acceptance of her suggestion made her smile. I mean, he didn't eagerly and excitedly say "yes!", but that was not the point. Progress was progress. And soon enough, Rannoch would be over the moon for her—nothing worth having was easy, was it? Liffey was an obstacle, but not something that could prevent the inevitable.

At his next words, she looked aside. She didn't know what he meant by that—did he think she was mean? Furrowing her brows, she looked to him and said, Well, of course I do, she said with a smile and a shake of her head, I care about you. I... don't want you to be sad, she explained. And she knew that she echoed Lyra here, in her sentiment. Whle she would have felt smug and somewhat pleased to see him upset for a moment, surely he deserved it for hurting her, Lyra would see to it that he was mended.

But the fact of the matter was, she was still upset with him. Hydra could not forget that. I should go, she stated, before she turned to depart his company. Lyra herself was not easy herself, after all.

Smiling at Lyra's remark, Rannoch found himself at a loss for words. He remained silent as she moved quickly to make her exit. To this sudden departure, Rannoch watched after as she vanished into the night. Once she was no longer visible, Rannoch stood and retreated back to his den with carefully-placed steps so that he could return to his place beside Liffey. 

Overall, the brief conversation had made him feel more confident about their friendship, and he naively concluded that their relationship was on the upswing. Only time would tell whether or not his thoughts were accurate. For now, until it was proven otherwise, Rannoch would go about his business happily because he believed his judgment to be correct.