Northstar Vale i'm so tired of eating all my misspoken words

this is one hell of a timeline wiggle, but I can't pass it up.  i'll figure out where this goes later.  probably around slavik..?

Winter was coming, and Ceara was not looking forward to its arrival.  The Plateau was too open for the cubs and those who did not grow a thick winter pelt like herself; she'd held off saying anything to Raven, who was busy tending to her cubs.

With the birth of Autumn, Ceara was looking tired and travel-worn.  She retained much of her muscle mass but had slimmed around the waistline to resemble something a little more waifish than previous seasons had seen.  If she were human, she'd have bags under her eyes from the late night drinking.  Her gunmetal eyes had an unfriendly bite to them.  She was hardened.

She just hoped she'd be strong enough for the coming winter.  There were others who dealt with it easier than she.  

She trailed over the scenic Vale's rolling slopes rather aimlessly.  Soon, she would have to return home.  She just wasn't ready.

The gentle breeze ruffled his pale coat as he stood atop a large hill, looking over the rocky land that surrounded him. Taking a deep breath he could feel the coming winter in the air, and despite everything it warmed his heart. Siarut couldn't wait for the world to be blanketed in snow, and the chill to grip the world.

He smiled despite himself. He too had changed, settled more. IkKanattuk was everything to him, it had filled a whole in his life that no single person could ever fill. The only reason he found himself so far from home was the need to secure the pack's safety. There had been no indication that Kove would come looking for the wayward northerners, but Sia wanted to make sure that none from the dark woods was attempting to figure out where they had gone.

The day was perfect, the sun while warm didn't hide the changing seasons. When fate interfered with his plans, and the winds brought the familiar scent to his nose, faster than his gaze could understand the woman that was making her way into his view. He paused. Not knowing what to do, he simply stayed stationary, as if a single move would shatter the painting that was being made before them.

Ceara. Inneq Ququriaq. The thought ran through his mind like a bullet, as his jaw fell slightly.

Haha, ahhhh fuck.

Of course.  It's not like she could go anywhere or do anything without thinking of Siarut.  She'd finally gotten over him, thought he'd found his perfect life somewhere over the mountain, and now here he was.  But.. she couldn't help but be happy to see him.  Even if he had been part of Blackfeather at one point, he'd been part of her life, too...

And as long as he wasn't some kind of crazy psycho-murderer, she'd never have to tell anyone the Blackfeather part.  Siarut, she says, breaking the silence as she takes a couple of steps in his direction.  Thought you left?  The question was delivered more as a statement than anything.  Maybe he'd been lying to her the whole time.  Maybe he hadn't.  Whatever business he had here was none of hers, but it didn't hurt to ask.

He couldn’t believe his luck, bumping into Ceara. What were the chances when you lived so far away. Shaking his head he looked away from her as they met in the middle. “I did. Just had to check something.” Although he had gotten over her he was still hurt by their last encounter. He had never expected to see her again.

Now that he had confirmed Blackfeather was leaving them alone, Siarut wanted nothing more than to return to his family and Nanook. Although life just had to throw one more rock his way. “What are you doing so far from home?” The Atausiq peered around, looking for any of her packmates. They were both wandering alone it would appear.

Doing his best to appear light hearted Sia returned his gaze to the fiery lady, the slight tilt of a smile on his lips.

A coldness had settled between them, and it was bittersweet.  Hadn't this been what she wanted?  When she ran away, did she not seek to drive a wedge between them?  Still, she dreamed of a day where there could have been something more between them that had built on what was already there.  She wondered if it was only her heart that had been broken, or if it had been his, too?

She didn't ask.  It was none of her business anymore.  Could say the same for you, she said as if she knew where the hell this guy even lived anymore.  She knew it was far away over the mountains, and that was good enough.  Just needed to get out for a while.  The last time she'd seen him, Tuathal had been there — oh, Tuathal...

Who was she kidding?  What was she even doing out here?  

Raising a brow, Siarut nodded. He could understand the feeling, although he was curious. Ceara was a wanderer at least from what the pale man gathered before they parted aways, but this was a little far to wander. Although he realized that was a little hypocritical, considering he was so far from home himself. Although he was necessarily wandering. He couldn't help but worry though, he couldn't help the soft spot that lingered for this woman.

"Everything ok?" He felt stupid as soon as the words left his mouth, but deep down he was hanging on the questions. He wanted to know if her life was so much better without him interfering. Had she found peace without him. He secretly wished she hadn't, but berated himself for the very thought. Siarut wanted her to need him, but at the same time knew she deserved to be happy. He was contradicting himself, and it was frustrating. Trying to keep his emotions in check the smile slipped slightly.

There was no doubt that if she were in trouble he would help. He focused on the moment, lest he get carried away in meaningless emotions. It would have been better if they hadn't met again, at least for Siarut, but that didn't mean he actually wanted her to suffer. He wouldn't listen to the darkest part of his mind.

She wanted to laugh at his stupid fucking question, becuase honestly, what was it his place to know whether or not she was okay?  He couldn't possibly still give a damn about her or how she felt.  They were nothing now.

(Right?)

I killed somebody, she says abruptly, though her face does not betray her own surprise.  She hasn't said it out loud yet, and it doesn't feel good.  They deserved it.

Out of everything he was expecting, or had prepared himself for, this was not it. He couldn't stop the surprise that morphed his face. And he was speechless. He had been expecting a trivial answer.

'Nothing'

Or perhaps even more rejection.

'Why do you even care?'

He was no expecting a confession of this magnitude. Although as he thought of what she had said he couldn't find the problem. If she said they deserved it, then he would believe her.

"Ok." Was the only thing he could think of. He hadn't had the chance to kill anyone, but he had no doubt that his father would expect him to eventually. Whether his would be victim deserved it or not. "So you're upset?" Perhaps it was callous, but he was slightly lost. Violence was as natural part of life as a predator. It would appear that they differed in yet another avenue of their philosophies.

Ok.

Her mouth fell open as a line appeared between her brows, and the wildfire fur on her back raised indignantly for a moment before she smoothed herself.  She wouldn't let him see her upset.

Whatever.  She shouldn't have expected any better from someone who had been part of Blackfeather anyway — at least, that's what she told herself.  Truthfully, she couldn't face that maybe she was the only one in this godforsaken place that had a problem with killing someone and Siarut was an easier scapegoat than tussling with those feelings.  Instead she'd focus on this is why we wouldn't have worked out, or why can't people put aside how they feel about things to have some compassion, or it's easier to say that when you haven't killed someone yourself.

Because it's much easier to say you'll do something than to actually do it.  She used to say she'd kill dutifully without hesitation — and she had! — she just hadn't realized the baggage that came with feeling someone's lifeblood leave between your very own jaws.  She wanted to tell him this, but something else came to her.

I have learned you cannot put your faith in others, or places. They will let you down.

It wasn't worth trying to explain to someone who wouldn't understand — no, someone who didn't matter to her anymore.  No.  How was he fine?  How did he just have his little family he wanted to get back to?  How did he seem so solid, and she was such a fucking disaster?

She wanted to hurt him, in the only way she knew how — and she didn't even know if it would work, but if it did it'd feel better than anything else thus far.  I slept with someone, too.  She took a step closer.  You know, all you had to do was ask.  Ceara rolled her shoulder and turned from him, prepared to leave him sad and alone with this newfound information and so long as she wasn't stopped she'd sashay away, tail swaying just enough to tease a glimpse of what might have been his, had he convinced her well enough.

She seemed lost for words, her mouth gaping like a fish. Perhaps he had said the wrong thing, but he had never been very good at dealing with the emotions of outsiders. His family was the same as him, they had similar experiences and values, it was easy to deal with their problems.

Ceara seemed to not agree with okedness in the situation. She answered in the negative, when he believed the opposite. She was not ok, and her sudden outburst following her lie made it even more obvious.

In a normal situation he would shaken the woman off and let storm away. But watching her go with a lashing of her words made him angry. He had given her a chance to be with him, he had wanted to be with her, he was the one that had been rejected not her!

Before she had a chance to get away, Siarut dashed forward to intercept her to stand infront of her blocking her escape. With an angry snarl, and deeply heated glare the pale brute retaliated with his own words.

"YOU rejected ME. Don't stand their and pretend I could have had you, because I never had the chance. You waltz around like everything that happened is someone else's fault. Maybe if you had joined me you wouldn't of had to kill anyone. But you didn't, and now you feel sorry that you were put in an emotional compromising position." The torrent of words tumbled from his lips faster than Siarut could comprehend, the ultimate test of his language skills and the true test of his heart. To scream and yell at the woman he had first fallen for, a chance that had been stripped when she cowardly ran the first time.

"You can't run from all your problems Ceara, no matter how nimble you are." His breath came heavy and sharp, "What are you really doing out here? Running? From who? Your family? Your friends? Your lover? I don't need to run. I trust my family with the truth, and know they would never abandon me. I trust that the woman I care for would lay down her life for me and my family. Can you honestly say the same." In those moments he mirrored her words, Siarut had found someone as well and yet they weren't just a fuckbuddy. "Don't stand high and mighty when you belong amongst us mortals." His tirade was finished, yet he stood firm waiting for her response. Whether that was in words or blood, he couldn't be certain which way it would go.

His words might have hurt her, if she would have let them.  Instead she found his words to be over-emotional and dramatic.  So he had found his one true love! and they would just totally die for each other!  Yeah, right.  Whatever.  She'd gotten the response from him that she wanted, and in this moment she had more power over him than she expected to recieve.

I don't have to justify myself to you, Siarut.  Why she did what she did was none of his business, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing.  He'd asked her to abaondon her family — something she was sure he'd find morally unsound if the tables had been reversed — to come live out some fucking fairy-tale with him.

And where would it have gotten her?  Obviously they were just so fundamentally different, it wouldn't have worked out anyway.  I don't feel sorry for myself.  They walked into my home and tried to kill one of my children. Misleading as that sentence was, all of the Redhawk children were hers to protect.  I don't need some fucking fairy tale.  I don't need a husband to come home to every night.  I'm not ready to settle down.  But the other part?  My family?  Don't bring them into this.  Why do you think you weren't able to take me from them?  I can say the same thing.

She snorted and drew a step closer, teeth clicking in a silent warning.  You can't hurt me, Siarut.  You don't have that kind of power over me.  You never did.  But me?  She looked at him with a gleam in her eye.  You want me.  Even if it's not the same way you did then, you want me.  You wouldn't be trying to hurt me if you didn't.

His frosty gaze was reminiscent of the lands he now called his. Siarut was not swayed as she easily let go of his anger toward her. Although she had mistaken his anger at him wanting her back. Alas that was not true. He had been hurt by her rejection, that was true, but he knew he had deserved better the moment she turned from him. It had taken him time to realize that, but he couldn't help but be grateful she had chosen not to join him.

He gave a bitter laugh, "I am thankful Ceara, that I met you. So at least I have an idea of the kind of woman I need. I wanted but I never needed you, and I've just realized that. So thank you." Shaking his head, "I am sorry if my words came off as trying to hurt you, I learned sometime ago that you should speak the words on your mind, before it's to late. I wanted you to know how you sit in my mind, the kind of person I imagine you to be." Taking a step toward the woman he gave her a frozen smile. "I pity you. You feign strength, putting up barrier after barrier to keep others away. I haven't figured out why, and I doubt I ever will. But I can live with that, if it means I caught a glimpse of the person underneath."

The gleam in her eye spurred him, "If I wanted you so badly. I would have asked. Is that all it takes with you? A simple question. Even I thought you had higher standards than that." He smirked, not that, that was meant to hurt. "You did hurt me. Once. Probably more than I will ever admit to anyone. But not today. No today I was able to get everything out in the open. I was able to finally put you behind me. And it's exhilarating." The grin never left his face, as his gaze twinkled. He often tried to be the better man, but he was not in the mood. Besides she had started it.

The truth was — had she been sober, she wouldn't have given herself up to that boy.  It wasn't assault but it toed some lines she wasn't comfortable with.  She'd been drunk and she'd been high and she wanted to feel wanted.  And in that moment, that boy had given that to her.  In a million years, she'd never admit that to the man before her.

I don't need your pity.  I'm glad I could be your lesson.  But when your fairy tale comes crashing down, when your woman leaves you, you'll remember me.  She laughed and stepped close enough her toes nearly touched his.  Aware of the curves of her body, her voice came hushed and sultry.  Do you wanna find out?  If that's all it takes to have me?  Her laughter took on a hysterical pitch as she deftly stepped away, expecting retaliation.  She wanted him to hurt her; she wanted to bleed.

Your mind's made up.  You can think whatever you want.  But you'll always remember me.  I'll always mean something to you.  Because she taught him a lesson, because she had broken his heart.  Neh?

Siarut let her words graze his frame, like beads of rain. Slipping away into nothing. He had no reason to doubt the life he had made since Ceara ran, no he would trust his family and those close to him. That was all he could do. So he could only continue to smirk at her words giving her a huff. "I guess I'll never have to remember you past this day." He shrugged, confident in his determination.

If his heart was constricted with the image of the red lady running from him, he wasn't sure he would have so much restraint. But the mere thought of being with Ceara crushed his resolve, but he figured he owed her this one last shred of understanding the man she had left. "I have enough respect for the female sex to refrain from indulging until I know I'm with the right person. Besides, it not like I didn't have the chance, right? You eaten any apples recently? That was a fun night wasn't it. Shame you can't remember." It was a low blow, but words were fickle, and apparently there was some bad blood brewing between the two canids.

Although her last words struck a cord deep within his heart. She would always mean something to him, and that made him sad. Yes, I suppose you will. The only woman to break my heart so furiously, I thought I'd never recover. His thoughts were carefully concealed behind a smug mask but despite what was unfolding between them, they had been an interesting couple. Their fiery tempers made for dramatic words, but their wandering souls led to breathtaking adventures. It was a young romance, perhaps to juvenile to have amounted to anything, but still it had meant so much to the pale Atausiq. Deep down he had always thought he had made the same impression on her and she had on him.

"You eaten any apples recently?  That was a fun night, wasn't it?"

She is breathless beneath the stars with a handsome young man.  He sweeps her off her feet with his confident swagger.  He offers her the world — his heart — in the form of those little white mushrooms.  He's after a good time.  She sees something within the sculpted angles of his face.  She sees something in the way he desires her.  She loses herself in his smile.

Her vision starts to swim.  What?  Where is she?  What is sh —

She is close enough to hear his heartbeat.  The air surrounding them vibrates with every ba-dup of his heart.  She could kill him.  She could clasp her fangs around his neck like she did with that stranger and rip the yielding flesh to taste the steady pulse of his throat.

Oh, fuck — she can't breathe.

"Shame you can't remember."

Her heart is beating too fast.  She can feel it behind her eyes.  She can feel it flood the tip of her ears.  Fuck you... she wheezes as she takes a few ungainly sprawling steps backwards.  Her breath is too shallow.  She has to fight the vision that threatens to go black.  She wants to run, but she knows if she tries she will collapse.  Every hair on her body stands on end as she tries to steady herself enough to retaliate.

But there is no coming back from this.

Once more he was surprised. He could see her falter, and even after everything that had been said between them he hadn't expected such a physical reaction. She staggered back, obviously disorientated. The smugness fell from his face and he watched her with concern. "Ceara?" He called gently, her sour words throw with ill timing, and without the conviction that was in her speech only minutes ago.

Siarut knew she had no intention of showing any form of weakness before him, but she obviously didn't have much of a choice. And despite what he had been feeling only moments ago, Siarut wasn't so heartless that he would leave to struggle completely alone. He took a small step forward, not exactly sure what to do. "Hey. Ceara. Hey." He called to her, trying to get her focus on him and not whatever she was seeing. "Listen to my voice, as annoying as that is right now." He gave a nervous laugh, his voice was in steep contrast to the fiery tone her held seconds before. No he used his best comforting voice, the once he used to use when Takiyok was still a babe.

He wasn't sure if he would be any help, but he figured he was better than no one. At least he hoped. He had seen something similar before in the north, but his father had been quick to run them off, exiled to the ice lands. Forced to die for their weakness. He figured that wasn't the right response in this moment. So got as close as she would let him, and continued to speak to her. Hoping his voice could help her find her footing in the present.

Was it Siarut before her?  Or was it that boy under the stars?  Or was it the woman she'd killed?  Or was it Raven, with her beautiful face and her comforting words and her warm touch?

But Raven's eyes weren't green.  Don't fucking touch me — she seethed, chin tucked as he took a step closer.  Her legs trembled before she launched herself at him, a flurry of fangs and white-hot anger.  No doubt she'd be subdued — she could hardly hold herself up! — but she was intent on doing as much damage as she could before he threw her off of him.

Maybe she'd kill him.  Or maybe she'd be lucky, and he'd put her out of her misery.

So distracted by her weakness he forgot that in fact this woman was still a killer. He had tried to help, and stopped his progression as soon as the told him to. But apparently it wasn't enough, cuz nothing ever was with the petite fireball. Her lung while surprising was not totally unexpected from an outside point of view. Alas Siarut was in the thick of it, and missed the bracing of her muscles until she was on top of him. Berating himself for letting his guard down her lung caught him square in the chest, her smaller frame making it hard to reach much else. His surprise allowed her to latch on to his sensitive unprotected skin. Her teeth sinking deep, as blood shaded his otherwise pristine alabaster coat.

A roar of pain met his ears, before he realized it was himself making the noise. His instinct kicked in as he was quick to grab her ruff attempting to pull her off of him. He was stronger, and perhaps more experience in the art of combat, making the maneuver easier for him. As she went her clenched jaw ripped at the wound she had made.

Strangely the only thought that came to mind was that she had undone everything and anything they had every been. This is how they had met, although in an opposite fashion. He had a similar scar on his shoulder that she herself had helped to heal. No she was just taking back what she had given. Leaving her own scar the stand along the scar she had left on his heart. Taking a few staggering steps back, Siarut didn't give himself enough time to ponder the philosophical thoughts swirling in his head, nor the time to dwell on his injury. As it bleed profusely. No he braced himself reading himself for another attack. Gone was the angry man turned worried, now stood a warrior ready to defend himself at any means necessary. If she attacked again, he doubted he would let he live. "That's enough Ceara." He hated using such a tone, as it reminded him so much of his father, but he hoped that on some level maybe she would register a command, or maybe the blood now coating her mouth, his coat and the ground would be enough to knock some sense into her. It was interesting out of the pair, many would place their bets on Sia making the first attack, alas it was not to be.

He whipped her around by her scruff, and she could taste his blood between her hungry jaws as he ripped her from his flesh.  Her stomach churned, but she savored the way his lifeblood ran down her throat.  The Northerner's retreat was met with feral, furious snaps of her teeth.  The serrated edge of her alabaster weaponry clattered together, and at the patronizing tone of his voice she punctuated the air between them with another quick, pointed snap.  She steadied her posture, ears pressed forward in an indignant show of dominance.  

She would not attack him again so long as he didn't come closer... but she was not about to back down, either.

Control was key in every situation as Sia had been taught, and the man had lost control of this situation. The woman stood in his way however. Standing between himself and the direction he wished to travel. He had no intention of wandering toward the woman, no he would take the long way around. His chest still bled profusely and the pale man was feeling light headed from the strain of his body. He needed to get out of here. Ceara wasn't listening to him, her panicked state no doubt adding to the violent act.

Stepping back, Siarut kept his green gaze firmly fixed on the woman. Her aggression was to much for him to deal with. She wasn't his family. Nor was she his friend. No this woman was a stranger to him, there was no reason to dwell on a stranger's emotions. Shacking his head, he left as quickly as he could, trying his best to ignore the pain that was blossoming in his chest. He would push through it to get home.

wrap up?

He left.

Slowly, the defensive curl of her body unfurled, and her hackles lowered upon her spine.  When Siarut was long gone she would cry softly, the realization of what she had done settling in.

But all she could think was that he deserved it.  He had meant to hurt her, and it wasn't right for him to try to pick up the pieces after.  He deserved it, and so had Nashoba, and so would whoever came after Siarut — for she knew there would be a next victim.

When she remembered how his blood felt as it ran down her throat, she'd expel the contents of her stomach and stare blankly at the bright red that came up with it.

It was time to go home.