Fox's Glade oh guard the pounding sound
blood canticle
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#1

there was a change in mona.
tindome had brought her only restlessness — nathaniel she adored but found herself seeking her own company these days. perhaps it was a tinge of boredom; a sprinkling of grief. whatever cup had passed before the girl had left its bitter taste upon her lips. her scarlet pelt glowed in stark relief against the expanse of a snowbound meadow; the little mayfair lifted her chin and closed her eyes against the kissing bite of the frigid air.
it had been the work of several hours, ones that blended into one another, for mona to find her way to escape the stone walls that guarded the vale. but when she had extricated herself, the girl had sidestepped sunspire and found her way down into the reaches of a valley.
and here now she stood, perhaps a bit stupidly given her coloration, but undaunted all the same. and yet there was such a despair in her as she looked back toward the stone teeth where tindome lay guarded.
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#2
her excursions had become more frequent as of late, hounded as she was by the demons that plagued her. laurel's day was imminent, blondine wasn't around -- indra felt the walls closing in on her on every side. soon the tendrils that had secured themselves around her bitter heart would choke her, and she waited that day with rueful gasps.

she found herself in a meadow she had not visited in weeks; as she looked about her across the snowladen plains she saw a form, russet -- blondine? her ears pulled forward and she made towards the wolf, her excitement falling from her features as she recognized the conformation this wolf sported did not match her friend's. all the same the wolf seemed to be guarded, almost as if she were waiting for something at any moment. indra halted as she drew close enough to speak, her auburn eyes assessing the brilliantly painted counterpart.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#3
poised on the knife's edge of reason and feeling her surety about her place in the world beginning to splinter, mona turned with a sigh that sent her breath spiraling in a plume. she stopped short, however, her murkwater eyes catching sight of a small but lithe figure, one that grew incrementally larger upon approach.
mona gazed back at a she-wolf who seemed close to her age, quailing internally at the appraising nature of the other's gold-burnished eyes, her pelt stippled with counterpoints of chestnut and henna. swallowing somewhat, unable to nudge the odd feeling that had sprung up to take residence in her stomach, mona lowered her ears somewhat. "hello." her usually jovial voice was devoid of its lilt; it was a warm monotone that greeted the stranger, but mona was unable to keep curiosity from her expression all the same.
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#4
satisfied with her brief appraisal of the female (and unwilling to be caught staring) indra averted her gaze briefly, resting it ambiguously on the russet edges of the female's lustrous pelt. they were both kissed by fire, though the flame that seized them was slightly different. indra had met only a few like her before, and this one captured her interest in a way she was reluctant to expound upon.

she met the monotone softness of the woman's voice with a flick of her ears, her muzzle parting in a slight smile that lacked assurance or warmth. "hello." she returned, her brow knotted as she looked at the bleak expanse around them. "it looked like you were looking for something." she offered, having caught wind of the distress that fretted the woman's bright features.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#5
her greeting returned, mona's tension ebbed from her limbs and she lowered her haunches to the snow with a sudden weariness. she remained intrigued by the girl, a red-hued thing like her, though where mona blazed flamelike beneath the eye of the cold sun, the other was the shade of rich embers. here too was something; a smile the mayfair returned, though the curve of her own mouth was timid, and soon faded.
"oh." what had she been doing? her murkwater eyes swept back to the direction of tindome, before returning to settle on her russet companion. "i think ... i think i might be running away." worriedly mona worked her paws against the white expanse that blanketed the meadow, observing the flex of her red feet before glancing sheepishly up at the other girl to see what her response had engendered, if anything.
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#6
indra watched as the stranger sunk to the ground, the gesture forlorn and almost exhausted. even then, the woman still seemed to retain a semblance of delicacy; indra followed the murkwater of mona's gaze to the ground, unwilling to appear judgmental or challenging. it took a fair amount of courage to admit ones' true intentions -- indra had wanted to run away for months now, and had told no one.

and here mona was, attempting to escape it all. indra followed her gaze to the unknown tindome, her expression drained of its guarded coldness, her form bled of its defensiveness. she felt that somehow, she could relate -- and said so: "that's kind of what i wanted to do.." she offered an ephemeral smile. "but i can't. my sister back home needs me. where would you go?"
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#7
a dustcloth slipping to reveal the rich tones of the oil painting beneath — the other girl suddenly mirrored somehow the very ache in mona's heart as her tension ebbed. for a long moment the mayfair did not respond, words evading her tongue when before they had not. a sigh — her crimson shoulders rolled, and her own transient smile made its debut. "i don't know," she answered honestly, hoping her unexpected bedfellow in misery would sit down and wallow a bit with her.
a sister. mona glanced again toward the snow. "i've got a brother, but i don't know where he is." the yearling let out her breath — she would not allow herself to explore the subject of losing cortland, not when the tremour of her tears was held back so tenuously. "will you tell me about her? i'm mona, by the way," the nuro added, knowing her request was abrupt, but trusting a tendril of instinct instructing her to speak truthfully the wants of her raw heart.
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#8
she was slow to cant back on her haunches, but she did so -- for the auburn woman before her captivated her in the way communal disquiet often did. she looked to the cold plains where tindome rose in sharp fins in the distance -- tracing the path mona's eyes had taken seconds before. she could sense the unease in mona - perhaps even trepidation - her own heart fluttered in such a fragile way.

mona was looking at the damped snow now -- indra looked to her as she mentioned a lost brother. a frown wrinkled her muzzle; was she looking then for him? before she could ask the girl had queried after laurel and indra shifted, her breath expanding in her lungs with a reluctant sigh. "i'm indra. she's -- well, she's my everything. the only thing that hasn't let me down." she didn't want to elaborate further; it would be a great disservice to dump her life woes at the feet of a stranger, so she changed the subject. "is your brother missing, or gone?" somehow there was a difference between the two -- she knew the difference, but did mona? "are you looking for him?"
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#9
indra. the russet girl too relaxed, settling to the earth. mona regarded her with a wistful mingling of worry and interest. her everything — had cortland ever been such to her? "missing," the mayfair informed her companion with a grim twist of her mouth. not gone, or so she hoped. cortland was a gentle soul — mona was not certain how well he would fare in the frozen wilds, and knew she was long overdue to search for the boy.
"where are you from?" the crimson she-wolf inquired after a polite pause. to be so well-met by a stranger; such things did not often happen to mona, and the mayfair was more than happy to seize the opportunity for a distraction. she had not before scented the packland that had woven their fragrance through the other girl's sanguine-shaded pelt.
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#10
indra shook her head solemnly at the mention of missing; for a moment she passed her gaze to mona's. it was meant unchallengingly, a look of sympathy -- for she knew what it was like to lose the care of someone who wasn't gone... just... missing.

indra wasn't sure how to answer the question the fair woman posed: did she mean her birthplace, or something else? she fretted her lip and spoke evenly, which belied the doubt she had just felt: "bearclaw valley. i don't know where it is in relation to you. it's not so far from here. i just... i wish she was happy." she looked to the ground again, the imprints left in the snow, and then in a moment of vulnerability lifted her gaze: "do you think any of us are happy, ever?"
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#11
mona was warmed by the knowing embers of indra's gaze; so buoyed, her velveteen ears swept forward to peruse the somber contemplation. "tindome," came her soft rejoinder, "that way." mona gestured vaguely with a small paw, her thoughts flickering through a cycle as she lifted murkwater eyes to the pretty face of her same-saddened companion.
tindome, great elk, the vale. nathaniel. delight. constantine. mona meditated upon each of this things for a long moment before she dismissed with pain the image of her eagle's dark eyes. "i think our lives are grey, with a sun that sends down its light here and there, indra," the mayfair intoned shyly, though her voice carried a heaviness beyond the youth she wore so glibly. "so yes, and no."
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#12
briefly the redleaf followed the direction of the auburn woman's gesture; tindome, beyond the jagged spires. a distant reach she would lnever summit.

her gaze fell back to mona, surprised by the knowing wisdom -- and poetry -- in her answer. it took her aback, but it also intrigued her. indra had never been incredibly imaginative -- not in a way where creativity was easy -- and to hear life's pains and joys surmised in such a simple, artistic way.. her gaze lit up with admiration, shy at first.

"that's very beautiful." she replied honestly, earnest in her voice. "it'd be nice for some sun."
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#13
mona had been unsure of how the other girl would receive her words; relief blossomed summerlight across her ruddy countenance at indra's rejoinder. "do ... do you want to talk about it?" she hedged, sensing there was a great deal more to the bearclaw yearling's brief responses, and then chiding herself for assuming such. they were still perfect strangers, mona reminded herself in rowan's prim voice; she must take care not to overstep. and yet her swampwater eyes shone with an interest, a concern she could not veil.
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#14
even at her most obtuse, indra could not have missed the interest that coalesced across the summerwolf's features. she did not resent it, oddly -- had mona been male, this exchange would be very different. instead, somehow indra got the impression she was confiding in an old friend.

but where to start? and why? what good would it do to sunder mona's cares with indra's troubles? her ears fell and she drew a lengthy breath. "if i talk about it, i am breathing life into it -- and then, it is real." she answered solemnly, her eyes cast downward. "but it is not because i don't want to share. life's just shitty for everyone, everywhere. you pick up the pieces you can, fix what you can fix, and move on." her amber gaze seemed firm.

"anything less is just aggravation."
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#15
mona's lips twitched into a frown of worry as indra's ears splayed and the talk of resolution broke from the russet jaws. for a long moment after her friend — were they that yet? — had ended her speech, quiet stretched between the pair. it seemed as if indra did not want mona to pry, and so while the words beaded on her tongue, she did not let them roll forth. curiosity vied with mannerliness, and it was the latter that won.
"well, if you change your mind, you can talk to me," mona offered, maybe a bit more abruptly than she had intended. for a moment, silence descended and words evaded her. and then — "i want to leave tindome because i have no desire to be married." her words hung and the confidence she'd had uttering them ebbed; mona set her jaw lest she say another unsolicited and altogether awkward thing.
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#16
the russet wolf didn't mind the silence that lingered between them; it rolled past the two of them like quiet fog, and she did not detect tension in it. she, left to her own thoughts -- and mona, left to her own private introspection -- in the end, that's all life was anyway, wasn't it? a series of lives composing small networks of relationships so that they were not left alone with themselves?

she glanced up as mona spoke, offering herself if indra ever needed it. she smiled briefly, her lips quick to lose their upturned curves. something might have been given in reply were it not for what mona shared next. indra set back a bit, glancing over mona as if just seeing her for the first time. "married?" indra repeated dumbly, a scowl forming above her brow: "shouldn't you have a say in that?"
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#17
mona nodded a bit furiously at indra's pronouncement. "i know! i mean, yes ... i think," and here her voice trailed away. throat bobbing with a swallow, the firebird dug her toes into the snow, sides expanding with a deep sigh. "i mean, i think he wants to be married, and i'm not sure i'm ready."
mona paused, a bold question budding on the tip of her tongue. the mayfair regarded indra for a long moment before she let her words unfurl into the crisp air, trusting that the bearclaw denzien would understand. "we ... we did ... it," she admitted, cheeks burning beneath her scarlet cheekfur, "and i think ... maybe i thought that just ... automatically? made us mates?"
quite put out by her own self, mona bit the inside of her jaw and was silent, hoping desperately that indra would shed some pitying light on mona's clear ignorance.
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#18
the convention a woman had no say did not sit well with indra, who rightfully bubbled with fitful rage for the auburn girl. she took a breath, swallowing the heat that threatened to spill toxic and angry from her lips. she noticed the fretful manner in which mona sighed and then spoke, and it pained her to hear the revelation behind her discomfiture.

indra was so done with the malign incompetence of the world. "oh, that's so shitty." she exclaimed emphatically, finding no shame in mona's admittance of her liaison with this unknown male. indra was bashful about many things, but the nature of intimacy was not one of them. unfortunately, she could relate only by laurel's own sorry tale -- for her sister had mated with xan, while xan had taken another mate.

not quite the same, granted, but in indra's eyes equally as shitty. "it doesn't automatically make you mates, but you don't owe him anything for doing it with him.. and if you don't want to marry him, if he doesn't respect that then he is not the mate for you." she said, her brow furrowed: "are you pregnant?"
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
blood canticle
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#19
let's fade this! <3 we will have lots mooooore

indra's reaction was not one mona had expected; she sank lower between shoulders and the crane of her ears. and yet she hung to each harder tone of her companion's voice, for what the other was saying fascinated and terrified her. she had not thought of it in any other way; her sides swelled with pensive breaths, and her brow furrowed. 
had he thought that? had he wanted that? was he going to ask her? so focused mona became inwardly that she did not initially hear indra's question. and when it filtered through the smog of all these sudden realizations, her hackles bristled in horror, eyes flying wide. "oh — i! uh! i don't!" she realized she was not quite sure; mona knew she had not undergone the change of which rowan had told her ... but...
the young mayfair gathered herself up and offered a warm, albeit shaky smile to indra. "i uh, i should get back. but ... i want to come visit you sometime!" reaching out, the redfurred girl offered a brief nudge to the other's shoulder, if allowed, before turning and padding off across the snow in the direction of tindome.
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#20
something in indra simmered; as mona grew pensive, indra seemed to withdraw with a hardened stare. her mind was occupied and as mona strode towards departure she extended her own shoulder - for a moment, their fiery pelts interlapped as if a kindled flame forged anew.

she withdrew, but not without a quiet and near sorrowful goodbye. watching the girl depart, indra's stomach seemed unsettled. as mona's shape faded into the greyclad hills, indra turned to home with her thoughts roiling.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.