Sun Mote Copse As if some magic, like a staff found a burning bush

@Njord @Meerkat

The golden dust motes had led her here, carried from the Copse on a breeze to drift lazily through the forest. Auburn had skirted the bog by going around it to the right, staying inside Cedar Sweep--though she did not know its name. Now she stood at the northern edge of the Copse eyeing the golden motes floating through the air. The closer she'd come to this place, the more gold dust there had been. Of course it had to have led her to a pack.

She'd run away from home a few moons before, though she was barely a year old. She'd gotten tired of the bullying, the way the others ignored her because she was small and weak and cried when she was forced to bring down prey. She hated the smell and taste of blood, which was a very difficult thing for a wolf. Running away had been hard; she'd nearly starved to death despite the spring's abundance of prey. She did not know how to hunt by herself, and the thought of it turned her stomach. She'd gotten by on berries and carrion and now she stood at the edge of the Copse, emaciated and exhausted.

She knew she must join this pack, or find another soon, or she would die. But what would they do when she told them she could not hunt or she would break into awful shivers and forget where she was? She looked up at the sky, watched the gold dust glint in the light of a noonday sun, and thought surely that it had led her here for a reason. Apprehensively, ears pulled back along her skull, she howled, and the strength of her voice sounded strange to her ears; she had been quiet and on her own for months.

Meerkat walked the borders slowly, letting Skipjack familiarize himself with the lay of the land. She was on high alert, eyes darting vigilantly around their surroundings. Her nostrils flared as she continuously combed the air for scents. Her ears twitched at every noise.

They pricked at the sound of a howl in the near distance. Meerkat commanded her son to her side. He immediately heeled, his shoulder brushing her leg as he followed her to the source of the sound. When she clapped eyes on the caller, she mistook her for a fox for a second.

She quickly realize her mistake and explained to Skip, It’s a she-wolf. She’s very small. Meerkat’s brow furrowed. She may be emaciated. That means she hasn’t had much food lately. We’ll approach with caution.

And so they did, Meerkat’s whisky eyes assessing the stranger’s svelte figure. On one hand, she felt sorry for this young woman and wanted to help her. On the other, she felt protective of her son and the daughter who wasn’t even with her right now.

Hello. Can we help you? the lady of the copse queried, motioning Skip to a stop and taking another step, so that he was slightly behind her.

Had no plans for this character coming in. Did not expect her to be so sad immediately lmfao.

Faded olive eyes took in the mother and son, and a pang of some negative emotion--anger, jealousy, sorrow--sliced through her for a moment. She knew their relationship for what it was because this was how her own mother had acted around her siblings. Her bigger, better siblings. But never her. She watched the mother tuck her son behind her legs, stand farther forward protectively.

Food, Auburn said at the woman's question, her voice coming out husky as woodsmoke from lack of use. Then, because she knew she was in no position to make demands, nor had that been her desire, she added, Please, and lowered herself down to the ground, prepared to beg, prepared to roll to her back, expose her tan belly. I... What could she offer? What good was she? She could not hunt, nor track, nor did she know the uses of medicinal herbs. As the runt, she had not been given the same training, the same attention growing up. I'll do anything, she whispered, half-lying, half telling the truth. She would do anything--even hunt, even as the memory of blood-scent turned her empty stomach--if they would just take her in. She was so hungry...

She was a pitiful thing and her begging swayed Meerkat more toward feeling sorry for her than wary of her. She glanced at her son, his eyes gazing vaguely toward the sky as he listened to the stranger’s voice. Meerkat wondered what he made of the sounds she made as she lowered herself to the ground.

Skip, do you think you can find your way to the closest stockpile, gather whatever’s freshest, and fetch it back here? On your own? the mother queried after a brief contemplation.

“Aye, ma,” he replied, his entire body perking up as she assigned this task to him. “Righ’ now?” Skip tacked on, almost disbelieving.

Yes, go now. If you lose your way, just call for me.

She watched him move away, clearly excited but moving gingerly. Only when her son moved out of sight did she return her gaze to the stranger.

What is your name? she asked in a soft voice. What happened to you? she wondered, though only in the privacy of her own mind.

Auburn watched mother and son in silence, listened as the woman spoke quietly to the boy and sent him on his way. She stared at the boy's retreating form, hunger making it difficult to focus. Her eyes glazed over, until he was nothing but a storm cloud floating away, trailing a streak of red.

'What is your name?'

The woman's soft voice was almost not enough to pull her from her stupor, but something about it called to her as if from a great distance. She imagined some ethereal mother figure, someone much kinder than her own mother had been, and turned her head towards it. She could not read the expression on the woman's face and wasn't sure she wanted to. Auburn, she said, and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice was no longer stuck through with burs, but flowed smooth and quiet as the rolling mists of autumn, though hesitant, soft as a young pup's. Named for my coloring, she said, swishing her tail, glancing down at herself. It was the only thing she liked about herself, her coloration reminding her of leaves falling and piling up along a forest floor.

Auburn, Meerkat repeated. My name is Meerkat and this is Sun Mote Copse. Don’t worry, we’ll look after you. Once you’ve had something to eat, I’ll take you someplace to fetch a drink. Then I’ll show you to my bourie, where you can rest.

She glanced over her shoulder, though there was no sign of Skipjack yet. That made sense, as he’d only left a moment ago. It would take the blind bairn some time to navigate his way to a cache and find his way back. Meerkat worried a little, though she knew exercises like this would help him build independence.

How did you get in such a state, Auburn? Meerkat wondered while they waited, taking a seat and looking over the yearling with concern written all over her pale face.

Auburn was glad she was lying down, for even in that position, she felt herself swaying a little. It was as if, now that she'd found shelter, her body had given out. She had survived long enough to find this place, and now she had no more fight or flight left in her. What's a... bourie? she asked, shaking her head a little and wondering if she'd misheard. She glanced up at the sky, green eyes finding more glittering golden dust motes, and thought the name of the place--Sun Mote Copse--was fitting.

At Meerkat's question, she glanced at her uncomfortably, then looked away again. This time, the concern on the woman's face was plain as day, and she didn't know what to do with such emotion. That's a... long story, she said. She didn't want to talk about her family, such as they were. Her parents who had ignored her existence for her entire life, her mother who had pushed her from her teat if she was in the way of one of her siblings, or her siblings who had pushed her away themselves. She didn't want to talk about trailing behind, ever behind, how it had taken her longer to learn to walk, to talk.

The dust is pretty, she said, deflecting, staring up at the sky again, watching it flicker lazily across the blue, disappear into the trees.

It’s a fancy word for a burrow, Meerkat explained, the furrow in her brow deepening at the young woman’s words. That’s alright, you don’t have to tell me right now. Just rest while we wait for my son to get back here with something to eat.

She wasn’t sure whether or not Auburn had a choice in the matter. She sprawled on the ground, looking very weak, and Meerkat feared she might die right there on the copse’s borders. She looked around for her son again, wondering if she ought to go after him, but she didn’t want to leave Auburn here by herself.

It is, isn’t it? she said softly to Auburn’s comment. I was born here, several years ago, but it was only last fall that Njord and I settled it again. He’s my husband. I have several other relatives living here as well. I’m sure you’ll meet them all in the time. The little one with me, that’s Skipjack.

She looked down at the ailing yearling as she spoke. She found she couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and stroke Auburn’s brow, a gesture of caring comfort. Meerkat hummed under her breath, some tune she’d heard the Laird sing before. She hoped it soothed her too.

Meerkat mentioned her son bringing back something to eat. Food. She couldn't wait. She was so hungry that her stomach seemed beyond growling. Now there was a constant ache inside, a gnawing pit that seemed to grow larger with each passing hour. Along with the golden motes floating through the air, her vision sparked with black and white dots, and as she brought her head down to look at Meerkat again, the woman swam before her, as if through tears. Her head pounded.

Meerkat's words floated across to her, as if from far away. She tried to think of something to say, but her mouth seemed incapable of speech, her mind fuzzy. She was so tired. One word seemed to latch onto her brain, however: Skipjack. Skipjack, she repeated, because she liked the sound of it. I like that name. She was whispering now, too bone-deep exhausted to speak fully. Feeling dizzy, she lay her head down on her paws.

She felt the woman caress her brow and, had she been less on the brink of death, she might've snapped, might've run away, might've stared at Meerkat in utter confusion. But as it was, she smiled at her gentle touch, one ear flicking at the humming. Then she promptly passed out, though in her current position, it looked as though she'd fallen asleep normally.

Auburn fell asleep, though Meerkat kept gently stroking her head until she heard footsteps. She gently withdrew her paw and turned to watch Skipjack struggling to drag an entire deer haunch toward the borders. Her eyes flew wide and she let out a little laugh, immediately hastening to his side to help him drag it the rest of the way.

Soon it lay only a few inches from Auburn’s nose. Meerkat nudged her son’s forehead. She was so proud of him! She then returned her gaze to the young woman, uncertain whether she should rouse her or let her sleep.

“DINNA FASH!” Skipjack bellowed, deciding for her. “I BRINGED YOU FOOD, LADY!”

Meerkat tried not to laugh as she made a shushing sound, amused not only by her son’s excessive volume but the fact that he was facing entirely the wrong direction as he shouted at Auburn.

Almost simultaneously, the smell of food and the sound of incomprehensible shouting roused Auburn from her bout of unconsciousness. She came back to wakefulness groggily, half out of her mind with fear, wondering if one of her parents had come to scream at her again, and cowered there on the ground, head pounding, heart fluttering, her body attempting to kick in with adrenaline, but too tired and weak to do much. Then she saw the food directly beneath her raised head and fell on it like a wolf gone rabid, covering parts of it in her admittedly tiny paws, as if to prevent it from being ripped away by an older sibling.

As she ate, she eyed Meerkat and Skipjack with an expression that promised blood and pain if they dared come near her, growling low in the back of her throat as she tore and swallowed without chewing. Her stomach, now unused to so much food, complained at her, threatening to expel her meal even as she continued eating it. She kept the vomit down by sheer force of will, though her stomach twisted painfully as she continued to devour the food. Her eyes were fierce and wild and angry, flicking back and forth between mother and son, hackles raised, back paws underneath her, ready to spring up at a moment's notice and fight to the death.

Small and emaciated as she was, she probably looked much more like an angry fox than a wolf, but foxes could do severe damage if need be.

Auburn sprang awake and fell upon the meat. At first, Meerkat was glad to seen this, though her own fur stood on end when she noticed the young woman’s aggressive demeanor. She supposed she couldn’t fault her for it, though it made her uncomfortable, particularly with Skipjack there.

Skip, let’s move over this way, Meerkat said, nudging her son deeper into the territory.

He moved with her as they found a spot about fifty yards away. From there, Meerkat could still see Auburn, even hear the noises she made as she ate. Her ears splayed, wondering if it was actually safe to invite this she-wolf into her home. She hated to turn away someone in need but she began to think she may need to send Auburn away once she was done eating.

She sighed, looking down at Skipjack, who turned his face up at the sound. She smiled at him, though she knew he couldn’t see it, and put her arm around his shoulder, hugging him close.

Meerkat and Skipjack moved away, and the farther away they moved, the calmer Auburn became. She stopped growling, stopped eyeing them wildly, though she did not slow down in her eating. She ate for several minutes, until she had stripped so much meat from the deer haunch that she felt bloated, stomach distended. She kept having to swallow as saliva flooded her mouth, her body wanting to regurgitate everything she'd just eaten. She only kept swallowing and swallowing, and got up to stumble away from the meat, hoping the smell of something else would distract her.

She took several deep breaths, faced away from the food, as well as the two wolves who were eyeing her from some distance (or, really, Meerkat was eyeing her). She still trembled from weakness, but eating had given her a bit of strength back. She felt less like a dandelion puff about to be blown away by the slightest breeze. Her mind was clearer. She continued to breathe, her nausea slowly dissipating, stomach settling. She would be all right now, maybe.

Do you think you could find your way to my bourie from here? Meerkat asked her son.

“Aye!” Skipjack replied, puffing out his chest.

Go there and wait for me, she instructed, nosing the bairn’s cheek and watching him as he trotted off that way.

Once he was gone, Meerkat approached Auburn again. She looked a little ill at ease. The lady of the copse felt the same. She didn’t regret bringing the yearling food, though she no longer felt confident that she could offer her anything further.

I’m so sorry, Auburn. I want to help you but I can’t have someone so food-aggressive around my bairns, she began to explain, truly apologetic.

Auburn did not understand what Meerkat was saying to her at first, and had hardly noticed the woman's approach. She turned to her with a smile, the first smile she'd ever given someone in a long time, and her eyes trailed off to find Skipjack. She saw him wandering away, and then he disappeared from view.

What? she asked, blinking. What do you mean? What had Meerkat said? Food-aggressive? Wasn't that how everyone was? That's... how we all ate, my parents and siblings and I. If I didn't protect my food like that, it would be taken from me. She gave Meerkat a quizzical look, not yet aware that the woman was turning her away from the Copse. Isn't that how you eat?

She braced herself for Auburn’s reaction, expecting dismay. Meerkat wasn’t sure how she would handle it, though the yearling surprised her a little by expressing abject confusion. Now she felt dismayed, realizing just why Auburn had behaved that way. Unfortunately, understanding did not equal acceptance.

No, she said gently, it’s not how I eat. My family and I have been fortunate. We’ve always had enough to eat, so we share with each other. We’d never think of hurting someone over food, which I’m only now realizing is a pretty big privilege.

She lapsed into thoughtful silence. Meerkat wondered if there was a way to help Auburn that didn’t involve her getting anywhere near the children. She supposed she could try, though she would need to speak to @Njord before making any permanent decisions.

Okay, new plan, she said. I’ll take you to the stream and we’ll walk south from there into a place called Cedar Sweep. You can stay there while I consult with Njord. I’ll visit regularly, bring you food. Does that sound alright, Auburn?

Auburn wasn't sure what was going on, but she became aware of a distinct feeling of emotional discomfort settling in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with how much and quickly she had eaten. She had done something wrong. She had done something wrong in front of the first wolf who had ever shown her kindness in her life. In her mind's eye, she pictured Meerkat and Skipjack and several faceless others all sharing a large deer amongst themselves, quietly. No snapping, no growling, no tussling. It was such a strange idea that she could hardly picture it. She was so confused that she hardly heard Meerkat's next words.

What? she said, blinking. Cedar Sweep... You... She studied Meerkat. You want me to... stay there? By myself? And you'll... bring me food? This, too, was so confusing that she had turned her head nearly all the way around by the time she was done repeating the words in the well-known 'confused dog' look. She turned to look into the Copse longingly. I-I can't... go with you... in there? You... Her voice fell, and then she blinked rapidly, trying not to cry, and stood up. You don't want me. Well, that made sense. No one had ever wanted her in her life. It's fine. I'll just--go. She swallowed the lump in her throat, confused, hurt, vision blurry with tears.

She might have been a yearling in body--though even that was questionable, given that she was a runt, and that lack of proper nutrition had stunted her growth--but in many ways, she still had the mind of a child, having lacked proper socialization and education growing up. She did not understand exactly what was happening. She only knew that she was being rejected. Again. Meerkat had offered to bring her food, but far away from herself and her family, like she was a pile of excrement, something to curl one's snout at and avoid at all costs.

Just while I speak to my husband and we figure out how to approach this. I’m sorry, Auburn, but I have to think of my children, Meerkat tried to explain. I understand it’s not your fault but I can’t expose them to such unpredictable behavior. And I’ve admittedly not dealt with this problem before. But perhaps once we get more food in you, then…

She trailed off as Auburn became more and more emotive. Meerkat wasn’t sure what to say, particularly to the allegation. She did want to help, though she stood by her words. Her bairns came before anyone, particularly a stranger, no matter how much Meerkat wished she could take away this poor thing’s troubles.

I’m sorry, Auburn, she repeated, wringing her paws. I do want to help you, if you’ll let me.

She just hoped that if they couldn’t work this out, Auburn would have enough fuel to make her way someplace else. Maybe someone else could help her, take her in in good faith, whereas Meerkat didn’t feel she could.

Auburn tried to calm down and listen to Meerkat, though she wanted desperately to burst into tears and run away. But if she ran, she'd be back where she started: alone and prone to starving to death. And she'd already proven that she could barely survive on her own.

Meerkat said she had to think of her children. As if Auburn was a danger to them. She sat down in a bit of shock, imagining herself in her mind's eye, imagining Skipjack happily approaching her as she ate. Imagining herself hunched over a hunk of meat, and bounding toward the boy to protect her food. Imagined the blood. She flinched and turned her face away, burning with shame. She'd never thought of her food-aggression this way before, had never known to. Growing up the runt of the litter in a small family pack who always seemed to struggle to bring in enough food, she'd had to fight for every scrap, and had often cried herself to sleep at night, nursing bruises and bites, with the taste of blood in her mouth.

No wonder she hated the taste of blood. Maybe her aversion to hunting had nothing to do with hunting itself, but with the fact that it reminded her of fighting her own siblings over scraps. I don't want to hurt anyone, she whispered. I'm sorry. I'll... do whatever you want, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry...

She believed Auburn didn’t want to harm anyone, though Meerkat could not simply ignore what she’d witnessed and hope for the best, not with her young children at stake. She smiled wanly and shook her head at the yearling’s apologies, gently motioning for her to follow.

It wasn’t long before they reached the western fork of the stream that split into two at this far side of the copse. Meerkat paused beside the water, motioning for Auburn to help herself. While she waited, she glanced off toward her bourie, hoping Skipjack had found his way there.

This way, Meerkat said afterward, gesturing southward with her muzzle.

She began to walk again, keeping her pace slow. She kept her face turned toward her young charge, in case she looked like she might need any help getting to their destination.

Auburn was dead silent as Meerkat led the way to wherever she was taking her. Cedar Sweep. It sounded nice enough, but the thought of being left there alone after so many months of being alone just sounded like torture. Like she was Rapunzel trapped in her tower (not that she knew who Rapunzel was).

When they came upon the stream, she drank her fill, though she really wasn't very thirsty. Water had been much easier to come by than food on her journey alone, and it was the only reason she was still alive now. Then she continued on her way with the woman who had saved her life, silently, silently. Her mind was in turmoil, her emotions all a-jumble so that she wasn't even sure what she was feeling.

Her limbs were still shaky, but she felt stronger than she had in days with the deer meat digesting in her belly. Now she probably shook for another reason, one more emotional than physical.

When they reached the thoroughfare where the copse and the sweep met, Meerkat stopped. She gazed into the southerly woods, ears pulling backward at all the angry memories this place now stirred. She pointedly ignored them, turning to look at Auburn again, who was shaking like a fallen leaf.

It’s going to be alright, Meerkat soothed. You’re right at the edge of the copse here, so you’re still under our protection. Look, there’s a cozy spot here beneath this tree…

It was just one of many spots where the young she-wolf could rest safely. Meerkat walked a little closer, pointing her snout, then looked at Auburn to see what she made of it.

Rest here and I’ll go talk to my husband. We’ll figure out the safest way to proceed. She paused before adding, I’ll bring you more food when I return.

She didn’t say it outright, though the implication was there: how they moved forward depended in part upon Auburn’s behavior the next time she was presented with something to eat. Meerkat shifted her weight and fell quiet, giving the girl a chance to speak, if she had anything to say.