Phoenix Maplewood there was an empty space in the shadow beside you

They'd found the wood to be a good respite from the storm, which raged around them even now. Smoldering gaze peered out into the swirling snow and the dark-painted boughs heavy with thoughts she could not quite shake. The sky was draped in shades of charcoal and ink, and with a look at her sleeping companions, she rose silently and moved to pace a little deeper into the wood. She offered one backward glance at Easy and @Aditya before slipping further between the boughs, for a few moments accompanied only by the odd silence that came with such a storm, that only served to emphasize the creaks of the boughs.

She paused when she came to a small clearing, nose to the ground as she searched for the tiny rush of water she could hear only barely. She spent a few moments tracking the tiny trickle until the thick ice that bordered it gaped wide enough to allow her to sate her thirst. The heaviness that had settled in her chest had not shifted since the night of the red moon, and while she tried to suppress it, she could not rid herself of the foreboding. It was wrong to feel this way, surely, did she not have everything she wanted? Did she not have all she could to be happy? And though she did, and the sleeping companions at her rear were obvious of that fact, she could not stop the and yet- 

blissful as he was, aditya was not ignorant. he had seen the shadow cross her face at the blood moon, the something hidden behind her gaze. it was not so overt as to catch anyone's notice, but since then, something had been off with dawn. something had changed.

he slept poorly in the cold night, shivering and sniffling, and when her warmth left his side, his golden eyes opened with a startling pop of light in the dark. though the forest gave them at least some shelter from the storm, still the snow piled up, settling on branches with ominous creaks and plopping to the ground--occasionally on his head, he thought, disgruntled--with a muffled sound. he missed his den at the plateau.

with a small groan, adi rose unsteadily to his paws, keeping his steps low and quiet so as not to wake easy. he kept one ear constantly turned back, so as to make sure no creature of the night ambushed the girl. he knew she was capable of defending herself--but he worried.

dawn hadn't gone far; her scent meandered to a small spring, where she stood, head bowed, lapping the water there. he stood off to the side, giving a low rumble in greeting; he did hope he wouldn't startle her, hoped the huntress had picked up his scent long ago. they had scarcely had a moment to themselves; perhaps, now with easy sleeping, she would reveal her heart to him.

he braced himself for what came next.

She paused at the sound of footfalls, made loud in the silence. She did not turn until he announced himself with a low rumble, the sound ever so familiar. Snow settled thick across her shoulders, was certainly already settling on his, and when she turned to face him her voice was of concern, the words not the ones that battled in her mind but a simple statement. "you're cold."  She moved nearer, mind grasping at the opportunity to think of something else and ignore the thoughts that strengthened when she saw his face, the conflicted feelings she hid well beneath her thick pelt. 

It was not that her love for the sun-touched man was in doubt, no, it was something different, something that at times seemed clear but at others, seemed hard to place. Her breath came thick in the air, fogged and misty, as she regarded him a moment longer. Perhaps this place was too northernly, perhaps they ought to have gone south. Perhaps she ought not to thirst for the uncertainty, the openness of her youth, but find comfort in the security and the knowledge of the future. These thoughts crisscrossed through her mind, like a spider's web gone terribly wrong, the errant threads of thought linked by the oddest things. 

She moved near, swinging her head over his shoulder with the ease of practiced motion, dissuading the snow that settled there. She sighed, low and soft, and wondered if she was being selfish. 

despite himself, he gave a small chuckle at her statement, serious as it was. "when am i not?" adi said with humor, flicking an ear backwards. his breath left him in a small sigh as she came into his embrace, settling her head over his shoulder. he would feel all right if not for the look in her eyes, something he hadn't seen before.

the snow was slowing, finally, coming down in tiny pinpricks of white rather than the barrage of large flakes they had endured for hours. the trees had helped, and aditya was taking a liking to this place; it reminded him, somewhat, of the sequoia forests to the south, where he had spent so many happy hours. 

perhaps he could convince the morningsiders to settle here, instead.

"you can't sleep," he whispered, his voice flat with statement rather than question. he pulled back, albeit reluctantly, and looked at her, hoping she wouldn't shy from his gaze. "you've got a lot on your mind.

"tum sapne dekhte ho lekin so nahin karte
tum sapne dekhte ho lekin so nahin karte
kya gupt tum paas hai, mere pyaare?"

vah vah, kya baat hai. rambling like a poet, now.

Absently, she pulled back, preening the fur behind his ear. She remained silent in her worry, for even though she liked the wood (for she had always found the allure of thickly wooded places ever so enchanting) this observation was pushed aside.  "maybe we should have gone south." He pulled back, and his fur slipped away from her without complaint, and her gaze met his steadily. "no." 

to the latter she did not answer, but an acknowledging flick of her ears offered all the agreement needed. but this she could not share with him, not this time. for her pride was her weakness, and with her pride came a fierce avoidance of ever, ever appearing weak, as Pema had so implied. and certainly, these feelings - longing for an open future, the unknown, free wanderings, were selfish and thus weak. for a leader did not desire these things; a leader desired all that had been offered to her. and to shrink before her neatly paved future was to be weak in the face that all that was to come, and this - 

he was speaking again, the lyrical words slashing through the threads of thought in her mind, scattering them. she blinked at him, moving nearer a moment. "I want you." again, a simple statement, but one not as simple as it was intoned. she wanted to want him as easily as it was to say it, to want him and the future he offered. she was still as she regarded him, not sure why the words had left her maw. 

he shook his head at her words, smiling graciously. "too hot for your father," he said, thinking of grayday's thick, plush pelt, "and yours, as well. sunny. . .shale. . .you all were born and bred for the north." aditya shrugged, with another minute sigh. "sab theek. it'll be spring soon enough."

spring, with its promise of new life. though none would come from their loins, he had seen the look between his alpha and catori at the blood moon. pups would come. . .and perhaps pema would choose to have a litter, too. he wondered briefly whether the healer had anyone in mind, in the first place.

her next statement jarred him slightly, and he peered at her, wondering if this was the reason she had been so solemn as of late. lust, and its effect on the young mind. surely not? dawn was passionate, but he'd never known the girl to have an appetite of that nature. not yet, anyway.

and he--oh. almost too late, he saw her eyes, bold and brave but with the barest hint of something akin to fear buried deep within the amber orbs. not lust, then, something else. . .

"but," he prompted blandly, his mouth suddenly dry. his lips drew in a straight, tight line. "there's a 'but' coming, right? you want me, but. . ."

no, it was wrong to even linger on her wants, her worries. she must suppress them, somehow, for without doing so she risked failure, and there was no thing more distasteful to the girl. perhaps, in order to escape them, she would only have to throw herself into this, into Adi and leadership and the path before her. for a moment her mind lingered, to the red-moon night and her father and his mate. 

there was apprehension in her chest, and an odd nervousness in her chest as she moved forward to press against him as she had seen Catori press against her father.  "no buts."  she stated this clearly, breath leaving her to coil thickly with Adi's own. were not her father and Cat happy? and was not Catori much like herself, or at least she thought; and she had found her happiness beside Grayday, her predetermined future? she moved up to nibble softly at his ear, echoing the movements of Catori, in a way, but not the emotion that had moved her to make them. 

she was moved by a desperation to disparage her worries, and find the same sort of acceptance that her father and his mate had - let him think it was lust. her heart quickened and her movements were made wary by pressure and same heaviness - let him think it were naught more than nervousness.

no buts. yet somehow, he didn't believe her.

she pressed herself against him, lifting her muzzle to nibble at his ear. he let out a shuddering breath as she did so, shifting his weight uncomfortably. she had watched and learned--from who he didn't know. perhaps catori, or some other temptress. goddamn it, she had watched and learned. 

months of frustration pent up inside threatened to burst like a broken dam, and a savage growl bubbled in his throat, not one of violence but of love. fuck, even without her heat she intoxicated him! his fur bristled, his toes curled. his eyes rolled back, and he lowered his head to take the scruff of her neck between his teeth, gently yet firmly.

he would turn her, rise up, possess her. the wild girl would be his at last. finally, she would know--

he paused, her neck still in his mouth. the lust racing through his blood froze suddenly into icy dread. she was cold, and stiff, and. . .empty. her amber eyes had held seemingly nothing when she had looked at him, and yet his body had responded anyway. she spoke but the words were wrong. she touched but the gesture held no warmth. 

this was a game. no buts, but she was lying.

"stop." aditya pulled away, shaking his head in a mixture of remorse, exasperation, and shame. his body throbbed, though now with fear rather than passion. what had turned his wild girl to stone? "dawn, no," he said, his voice firm, though not without a quaver. "i've seen this dance before. you're here, but you're not. . .here."

his lips pulled tight once more, into something that almost was a snarl. "don't fuck me to fake it," he said, his words crass but sincere. "tell me what's wrong."

He responded, and something like relief coursed through her - relief that had her soften, had her feel something when he growled, when he grabbed her scruff. she could feel something building in him, and felt fear alongside the heaviness and the desperation. but then he stepped away, and she shrunk back, left only with shame and empty worries and wants. stop.  "adi-" how easily was her scheme swept aside, her motives uncovered, and her ugly desperation made plain. she stared at him with dull gaze, the kind of shame-riddled think that sparked to life only then the vulgarity rent the stillness, and she moved back further. 

 "no,"  a weak denial of the shame, what he implied, but her molten gaze held equal measures anger and shame, now. he asked, and in her turmoil, he pried open the lid of her worries. "I don't want -" no, she would not be weak, for her doubts made her so, and he could not know. for while some part of her knew that love ought to be able to understand weakness, she did not believe that it could, could not take the chance. she could only push it down, suppress it, alongside all the other doubts and things she'd never admit. 

 "nothing is wrong." The words came out low, steadfast, and already she pulled away from him, filling the void with silence and empty space, suppressing her horror at what she'd just done. how childish she'd been, how stupid. disgust was painted across her face a moment, and she stared back at Adi, willing him to drop it, wishing she could find the words to explain away hat she'd done.

his breath came hard and fast, and the passion that had vanished a moment ago came back in waves. it ebbed and flowed like the tide, and if she did not leave him, he might be tempted to have her. all of her. and he'd be gentle and kind. . .but he wouldn't be able to stop, once he'd started. 

he could run off and fuck someone else, true. spare her feelings, her body, from the sudden onslaught. save their first coupling for a more romantic occasion, when the girl was finally in heat and able to bear their children and he wasn't so frustrated. take someone else for now, instead.

but he didn't want someone else. he wanted her.

with the utmost patience, aditya stood still in the snow, his heart hammering in his chest, staring her down with raptor-gold eyes. she continued to lie, or at least dance around the truth. why? what was she hiding? what was she so fearful to reveal to the one wolf who would never abandon her, not even for any perceived fault on her part?

then again, maybe it was his fault. the girl was young; perhaps she had found more enjoyment from a male closer to her own age, more in common, more energy. his age, though still somewhat low--this was only his fourth winter, after all--weighed suddenly heavy, something like drowning. 

but how could he voice it? how could he accuse her of rushing after someone else, especially if it was not true? she would never forgive him for his lack of trust; his trust, he thought, was what had won her over in the first place. trust, and saccharine words--honeyed phrases his tongue lacked in this painful, shattered moment.

maybe it wasn't someone else, but something else. something had changed in her; she didn't want him anymore, or at least not the future they had planned. that hurt worse than the internal dig at his age, he thought, feeling his stomach clench.

he had lain awake at night, dreaming of the seasons to come. made love to her in his mind a thousand times. named their children, and saw their faces clear as day.

here he stood, speechless, looking at her. nothing is wrong. she was lying--but how could he say so?

dard-e-dil. . .dard-e-jigar. . .dil mein jagaya aapne. . .

his uncle's song. he had sang one of vishal's tunes to dawn before, when they had first met. she had been charmed by it, and in turn, charmed by him as a whole. they had fallen in love, and not looked back. now another melody had sprung to mind and for what? the chasm between them in this moment was as boundless as the ocean, and he with no idea how to cross it.

with a small whine, as if he were sickly once more, aditya sank down on his haunches, hanging his head. well, and if she wouldn't--couldn't--show him weakness, he had no such reservations. she had mystified him, hurt him, and it all ripped suddenly at his chest like white-hot claws and fangs.

for days the doubts had worried at her, and yet suddenly they seemed so foolish when Aditya crumbled before her. she moved slowly, at once wary to touch him, the fragile thing he'd become, and it was after a moment that she nosed over his shoulder, circling tightly around him. "no no no," she breathed, ears pressed flat against her skull, unsure of what to do with this frailty that had her suddenly fear, and not for her selfish pride. she had worried so at cementing herself down that she had not considered the alternative, had not considered this. 

 "I feel trapped,"  she said at once, desperate now to stop this frail Adi. "you, leading, our future; I knew - I know where it leads. I know how things'll turn out, and maybe I'll be happy but-" dawn stopped, breath ragged in the stillness, and she realized that she'd much rather Adi yelled, spoke, did something. "it's wrong, it's selfish," she bit down hard on the word mistake, its implications, its meaning.  "but I want that openness, again. but I'm not supposed to want that,"

and in her selfishness, in her doubt, she'd hurt Adi, clawed at him and slashed lines of pain across what they were. she did not know how to fix it could only offer her own heavy thoughts in some desperate attempt to even the playing field. she hated this, for she'd been the one to spill the pieces, and now she did not know how to put them back together.

her words hit him like teeth, tearing into him with each and every syllable. he felt weak, exhausted, out of breath.

and pathetic. not good enough. he knew it. it was about him. even his own wanderlust wouldn't sate her. she was limitless, meant to be tethered to no one. 

she'd have to make her own decision on the matter. perhaps she already had.

he flinched at her touch, so at odds with her words. how could she comfort him, speaking things like that? anger flickered in his heart, a tiny tongue of flame. 

he would have died a thousand times for her.

she was right. she was selfish. 

"i'm tired," aditya said, his usually musical voice devoid of all color. he couldn't look at her, instead gazing toward the ground as he rose to his feet. "i'm going back to sleep."

with lead paws, he trudged back to where easy was sleeping, the snow covering his tracks almost as soon as he'd left them. as if he'd never been there. 

maybe she'd prefer that. maybe she'd be happy.

maybe he should have died of that fever.

and she knew she had broken something, fractured it deeply. and she'd never been good at picking up the pieces, never been good at putting things back together. dawn scrabbled for words, for something to make it right. anything, something, had to exist, something she could say or something she could do to make it better. 

she watched as he picked himself up, looked to meet the dark golden gaze but could not find it in the falling snow. and at once she wanted to scream, wanted desperately for something material to tear into as she'd hoped for during Adi's sickness. "stop." the word weak, small, coming far too late and far too little. 

her gaze widened as suddenly he was gone, and abruptly all the emotion battling for dominance in her chest fell away. and she was stone, for a moment, as Adi had called her, mind blank and features expressionless. 

and then she was moving turning opposite and away from him, wondering why her chest hurt even though they had not fought with tooth and fang, wondering at how easily she'd ruined them.