Greatwater Lake I spend my night dancing with my own shadow
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#1
All Welcome 
@Screech? :eyes:
after all the quiet solitude of her time outside the Wilds, the events that had come to pass in the past while had seemed a wild blur. the symmetrical ring of punctures and tears around her throat were not life-threatening, but they emitted a sickly odour, now, and that fact that she could do little to tend to the injuries herself drove her half-mad. 

she had been unsettled since rising that morning, pacing away from the rest of the group and coming to settle at the edge of a lake. here the unsettledness condensed into a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and as she stared across the icy plane, she realized why. she shifted, moving to rise and plunge her muzzle into the frigid water, reassuring herself in the fact that an entire lake lay between herself and them.
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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#2
Feeling safer here than he did on the other side of the valley, Screech chose to continue tempting fate after his reunion. He did not venture straight back to the forest as he should have - no, instead he ventured south, wondering if it were possible to find a route back to the Caldera that would allow him to see home once more. He got to the lakeside before he stopped for a break. From there, with the Sunspire behind him, he could look out over the lake at the distant smudge of gray on the horizon; he didn't know if he was looking at Moonspear or the Caldera, but he chose to assume it was home.

This was as far as he would get. If he stayed too long in the wilderness he not only tempted the Cerberus, but outright ignored the warning by the matriarch of the mountain. He knew if he was caught now then all bets were off and he would be dead. Along with that came his attachment to Ravensblood; he hadn't spoken a word to Constantine or Durnehviir about embarking on this stupid adventure, and they probably thought he had abandoned them. No, he had to return.

So he stopped at the lake and had a drink, laying low among the foothills and the forest, with the full intent of embarking north again. The scent of old blood was a prevalent current beneath the chill of the winter air. Finding himself hungry, he investigated that scent - only to come across a dark figure by the lake. Screech didn't move upon sighting the silhouette — he thought maybe it was the Cerberus this time (as it often was, his luck being the absolute worst) so he did not expose himself and was too petrified to even run.

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had she not been so hyper-aware, so unsettled that she constantly paused to scan her surroundings, she may have missed entirely the approach of another. carefully, she twisted her muzzle to stare pointedly in the direction of the slight rustle. it was all too likely that the sounds may have been some insignificant creature, some sparrow or bold rodent. and yet she could not simply ignore it, not when it too had the potential to be something edible, or some creature of the Wood. 

for a long moment, she was still, but the sound neither continued nor did its source reveal itself. her hackles rippled, and for a long moment, she too was still.  when finally she moved it was with a hunter's stalk, low and wary, gaze peeled as slowly she approached the general direction of the sound. here and then she scented the air, but the wind favored neither herself nor the sound, and thus she continued her wary approach. she was fairly visible, a fact that had her unsettled, and she chose to skirt the underbrush at the lake's edge, ears like radar dishes atop her skull. 
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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The realization that this wasn't a wolf from the Moonspear pack was sudden. He recognized her as she looked around, turning, sweeping her own gaze through the trees; he recognized her not for the darkness of her silhouette or her shape, but for the vibrant gaze as it aligned with his own hidden sight. Cassiopeia. His entire body tensed; he had not seen this girl in such a long time, but upon seeing her he felt a keen twisting in his gut. A fluttering in his chest. It was almost the same feeling as he had experienced with Coelacanth - but stronger, more like the wind was being drained from his lungs.

Where had she gone, though?
The last thing that Screech remembered was the forest and their argument.
There had been the war with Blackfeather just starting.
His involvement with Moonspear - their attack against him -

Where were you? Spat the boy as he made his big debut, striding slowly out of the dark and in to her path. His voice was low as usual, but empty. He fixed his one good eye upon her, unabashedly facing her head-on; she would be able to see his deformity clearly and it didn't bother him one bit that she might be repulsed by it.

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it was too her disappointment and unease that a figure stepped from the trees, rather than the prey she'd been hoping for. instantly did she fall still, but she did not have time to spit a warning before the figure spoke. if she had not recognized his figure, she did instantly the voice, and her jaw snapped closed decisively. she blinked, taking in the sudden influx of information. 

he was not dead, and the trail she'd lost that night had not led to a body. furthermore, his face was scarred in a manner that reminded her of Vaati, and at this development, she felt her gut turn oddly. she stepped once closer, sweeping his feature unabashedly, realizing then that unlike the dark master, his eye socket was vacant. "thought - you're not dead." she said finally, her gaze falling next to his eyes socket. "I found the place -- your trail -- did he do it, or them?" there was a dull humming in her ears, she was dimly aware of, and for a moment anger, shock, and awe mixed clearly on her features until she reined it all back in. she blinked only at the boy she'd believed to have failed completely; and while certainly, she had, to some extent, he wasn't dead
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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She looked exactly how he felt: like the world had gone topsy-turvy. She wasn't avoiding his gaze though, which was surprising. The girl even took a step or two closer. Screech did not move an inch although he wanted to shift backwards and flash his teeth, keep her at a distance and keep this conversation a short and sweet as he could make it. But he just stood there like an idiot as she checked him over, his ears spinning forwards to catch her voice as she admitted to thinking the worst. Screech found that he couldn't blame her for that — faced with the bloody evidence in the manner that she was, he'd probably have assumed the same thing.

Was he forgiving her already? A childish part of him screamed no, because the feeling of betrayal and hurt still felt so fresh to him, and it kept his blood boiling and his skin warm within the coldness of the season. Maybe all of this trauma had affected him in ways Screech would never understand - because he wasn't angry with her for abandoning her quest. She'd done whatever she could to survive through the chaos of those days, the same as he had. Yeah, it looks like he's forgiving her. What the fuck.

Them? The three sisters, Screech confirmed. The details did not matter.

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his answer helps piece together the confusing mess of scents, and yet still there are too many unknowns. she wonders at the audacity of the sisters, to exact their false vengeance, for surely they had targetted him because of what they'd thought he'd done. "I found his blood - Vaati - too. lots of it, but no body." that trail she had not followed, in part because she'd chosen that of Screech, and yet too because she was not sure what would greet her at the end of another; nor what she would feel should it have been a body. 

it is not fair of her to ask him to fill in the unknowns, to speak of Vaati when already she'd succeeded in failing him again. her ears tip back, brow creasing. "I should have looked harder, for you." the admittance is made openly, guilt open on her features. perhaps he will forgive her, but the weight of leaving the closest thing she has to a friend will not leave her easily. 

a moment stretches, and then she continues, gaze sliding back up to him from where is had fallen to the dirt. "what happened? after what they did - are you safe, now?"  she wonders if letting him go had been a mistake on their part, if all their hate for him had dissipated when they took his eye. even without the details, she does not know if she can believe that the sisters think their retribution is complete.
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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Screech would never be over the events of that night - the entire event had left him with a deeply seeded resentment and no matter how many times he claimed to be alright, he wasn't and likely never would be. The loathing he felt towards Hydra and her sisters would one day encompass anything affiliated with Moonspear; while he did not know it now, it had spread beyond even that, leaving him feeling only a hollowness for the dark-pelted girl that stood before him. It was superficial. He should not have felt so cold towards Cassiopeia, but she reminded him too much of the sisters, feeding his growing xenophobia.

Her question wasn't one he entirely expected, but it snapped him out of the circular thoughts he had started to cultivate. At first he was silent, sullen, detatched, unable to answer her simply because he couldn't understand why she would pretend to care about him at all. They had been friends — or if not friends, survivors, together fleeing from Blackfeather — and now all Screech could see was yet another black-faced head of the Cerberus. How long before she demanded a piece of him too?

Safe enough, he finally stated. He could have explained that he'd been found by a pair of kind wolves in a forest, that he lived by the coast now, that they rescued him and nursed him back to health. Regaled her with stories of his exploits (the good, the bad, the ugly) the way he might have done months ago, when being an obnoxious warrior-wannabe was the pinnacle of his dreams. But he couldn't do that now. Screech felt his jaw tightening with words left unspoken; when he did finally murmur something, it was quick: I can't go home. They'll kill me if I set foot in the valley.

It hurt to admit this - his tone pitched, caught, and died as soon as he spoke the words, and then it was Screech who looked at the soil.

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he did not answer immediately, and she wondered then if something worst had followed, something unseen. would it not be her fault, then? for she had lost the trail, and surely if she'd found him as he had found her after blackfeather, she could have changed something. when his answer finally came, she shifted, offering what she could then. "I found a pack - it's led by a man called rannoch. you can come with me, if you wanted." it was the very least she could offer after what he'd done for her, and it weighed on her to know that whatever their relationship was, was uneven. 

when finally he spoke, she paused, watching as his gaze fell to the dirt. her stomach twisted; while she'd never truly had a home that she cared for, it was obvious to see the pain it caused him to be barred from his. it was this that had the girl speak, words firm and taut with anger. "we could go together. they can't kill the both of us - and we'd kill them if they tried."  her voice held conviction motivated by anger at the dark entity that was the sisters, and too by the knowledge that she owed Screech a debt, even without this knowledge, the sound of his words and her own hate spurned her to make the sincere offer.


That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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When she mentioned Rannoch of all people, Screech immediately thought of his encounter with the man and with Liffey, and through the fluttering sensation in his heart there was a greedy pull; that Cassiopeia knew them was surprising, and the fact she pledged herself to their budding family made another sensation twist the pit of his belly and burn the back of his throat.

It was revulsion.

An unyeilding sense of possessiveness overcame Screech after he realized this. Rannoch was his friend, and Liffey was his family. They had escaped from the horrors of Moonspear and left behind the Cerberus — but in knowing Cassiopeia was among them he did not feel glee, only nausea. Then there was, of course, guilt. He knew he shouldn't compare the trio of bloodthirsty sisters to Cassiopeia. He knew she wasn't here to hurt him, or take anything away from him.

We could go together. they can't kill the both of us -
she seemed to promise, filled with a zealot's belief that dwarfed everything; he would have been impressed by this change in the girl. Once she had been near dead and despondent but not now, not when she had some hope. But Screech couldn't let himself fall for something like hope so easily - You're wrong, he cut in blithely, They could have killed me at any point. They still could. I had to make a deal with them to keep my life - and they have no reason to honor it. Cass, there are three of them and -- he didn't know what else to say, but at least his emotion had revived the tone of his voice. We'd only start another war.

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she was being childish, she knew as soon as the words left her maw. his words made sense, were logical, but they could not tamper down the anger that pumped steadily through her now, place it neatly back from where it had come. she hated them for the power they held over screech, their false justice and their bloodlust. she had not forgotten that blurred memory of her youth, of water and drowning and the sisters. 

she shifted, sidestepping as the suddenness of her hatred compelled her to do something, something more than stand motionless. she stilled again, words gathering on a sharp-tipped tongue. "but there are two of us. that has to count for something - they can't be in all the valley at the same time." still, her words did not succeed in convincing herself entirely, and she paused. after a moment she tried again, scrambling for something.  "I could go. tell your family ... you're innocent. they'd know you're not a murderer, they should know what the sisters did to you." perhaps this would only serve to start another war, turn the packs against each other, or maybe it'd backfire.
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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The boy had done his best to ignore any thoughts of the family he left behind - of the war - but it was all there, filling his mind now. Things he had forced himself beyond without facing. He cannot handle her enthusiasm right now - maybe that wasn't the right thing, enthusiasm, but he finds her interest makes him recoil mentally.

But her offer makes his ears shoot forwards, his dull gaze to alight again. Talk to his family? They're probably all dead, came his defeatist drone, They -- they were going to war with Blackfeather. I was supposed to be there... Back flipped those ears again, and he frowns, sighs, wants to be anywhere else but here with her. Pathetic.

It's better I stay away. If they think I'm dead -- whatever problems he'd created between the packs, they were resolved now. Let them think he was dead and gone. Look, Cass, none of this matters anymore. This is... All of this is fine. I can't go back and everything has changed, and there's nothing we can do.

Screech was at his limit. After saying his piece he ducked away from her, and while he desired to be by her side he had too much other shit to deal with; his mind was abuzz, and he didn't have the patience for her versions of truth, justice, or goodness. Without a word he slunk off, and soon she would be alone with her good intentions.