Wolf RPG

more and more changed for her, some seen and some not. her eyesight grew more clear by the day, and her limbs were not so useless anymore. deirdre had hardly waddled anywhere to begin with except for when her sister could not be found and there was no milk within her reach. beyond that, her mouth had been hurting for days and days. she took to gumming the furs they slept on when her sister would not accept her mouthing advances. there was no question as to why, for those that knew of this teething stage. deirdre protested the pain and was rewarded with alternatives to whatever had been in her path beforehand.

the pain in her mouth had ended, at least. deirdre had her milkwhite smile to show for it, but then, deirdre had not yet smiled at all. deirdre was too busy fretting over that which could not be controlled to do much of anything else but sulk over it, and look confounded about the Next Strange Thing to be discovered. deirdre at least recognized three faces concretely: The Giver, The Bringer, and her beloved sister, who was a combination of the two in furs alone and so all the more loved for it. deirdre was unaware of her own color, and so never thought of it.

there was a time where she was not permitted to draw near the dens mouth. only once had she tried, and in being swept away and meeting a firm (but gentle) reprimand, deirdre did not try again. it was forbidden, and deirdre had no desire to disappoint or meet the upset she had (minimal though it was) that day. she did not mind discovering what lay in the den, though. and that was how she busied herself, discovering the place with those who might wander it with her (be it her dark sister, The Giver, or The Bringer). it was they who reassured her that all here was safe and good and alright.

the day her teeth ached no more was the day her mother and her father did not blockade the opening of their abode. they lingered thereabouts, but it seemed there was yet another change. deirdre herself stared at the light, and only tilted her head at it. doelike she lingered, before creeping backward rather than forward. instinctively, she sought emaleth without quite knowing she did.

It was instinct to protect the bright creature that so easily matched the Otherworld— the forbidden place. From nothingness, lights and shapes emerged, but the change had been so gradual that little Emaleth simply believed that this was how it had always begin. She had already Forgotten, and this new hazy world was beginning to imprint over the lives she had before.

The Source had become the Giver and Bringer, and this seemed natural to the eldest. It hardly changed things for her at all, for they seemed to be one and the same. Two sides of the same coin. Belonging to each other, part of each other, just as she was part of the bright shape that was her sister. They each had their roles, but neither was more or less important than each other; but if they were apart, the world was broken, and so Emaleth protested when either parent was not present with she and her sister in the den.

There were others, and Emaleth tolerated them, but they were no replacements for her sister or parents.

She hardly noticed the pain in her gums, though she had similarly taken to chewing. The dark babe was more concerned with keeping her sister calm and assured, as she had even in their earliest days. Emaleth abided the pain with an unnatural stoicism, though her slumbers were fitful and she was less tolerant of change— that, in particular, being out of character for the child.

Emaleth was intrigued by the Otherworld, but she was not particularly determined to venture near it. The closer she moved towards the bright light, the colder she became— and so she contented herself with tumbling about the inner corners of the den, only venturing near the threshold when it was time to herd her sister back into the depths.

She was contenting herself with a small tuft of fur, batting it and chasing it in a very catlike manner. If the Giver and Bringer were inviting the children to venture into the Otherworld, Emaleth had no interest. So intent on her solitary game, she hadn't noticed how near her sister drew to it— nor that their shoulders were no longer touching, as had been their way.

There were many changes, and so subtle in her developing mind that Emaleth hardly noticed the changes at all.

deirdre's interest died the moment the item her sister played with tickled at her hock. deirdre spun to face it with wide-eyes, and watched her sister combat it. deirdre herself was amazed at the way her sister could make it move with the bat of a paw. deirdre shirked at the play, gentle in her own interest of changing and moving things, but she would forever be interested in emaleth's doings. her pale furs melded against her sisters, and there was peace in her world again. deirdre herself had felt a void when her sister was missing; there would always be a quality of emptiness that presented itself to deirdre baldly when this was so, but that had faded the instant she pressed against her other half.

whats this? deirdre babbled to her sister in their shared language, and she spun to move behind her littermate, and then beside her. the language spoken was not solely their own, of course; it was the language of any new to this world, this life, no matter their origin or their language. if, for instance, their father placed a cub in their den born to wolves who spoke solely french, so long as they were at the babbling stage she and her sister were in, they could speak to one another and understand perfectly. it seemed those grown who could speak in their language were forbidden from understanding them; but deirdre herself would soon come to understand them. for now, all things the Others—those older—said were nonsense; but she did so love to hear them speak it.

The tuft had flowed gently towards the Otherworld— this, Emaleth had not realized, either. It brushed against her sister's tiny paw, and the dark child reeled back in surprise; realizing, now, that they had been apart. For a moment, her simple toy was forgotten, and little Emaleth rested her head over Deirdre's as their shoulders reunited. With the contact, she became aware of how she had felt without it. Emaleth did not know how to place that feeling, but she certainly knew that she was happy to be so near her sister.

A breeze lifted the clutch of fur, and Emaleth sank immediately to the ground in instinct— her blue eyes intent upon the blur. As she exhaled, it moved again, and she looked up at her sister. "see?" she queried in their twin-like babble. Mine, was a next thought, but this was foreign— Emaleth did not know what it meant, nor that she was jealous that this, too, would be shared. She waited to see what Deirdre would do, remaining close, though she desperately wished to chase the thing.

deirdre herself was unaware of her sisters feelings toward the thing that swirled away from them; the only thing she was possessive over was perhaps emaleth herself. while she was indignant to any others disappearing, her heart truly could not tolerate the idea that emaleth ever be out of reach. her sisters question was met with a nod, and a tiny wave of her tail. maybe... she whispered quietly, watching it move in a draft suddenly brought in, ...it wants us to follow? it was a peculiar feeling, the way that it danced away. it would drift closer, only to part from them again. 

it was maddening, and deirdre too was compelled to follow it; but she would let the discoverer decide, as deirdre felt that emaleth would know this thing best. the third born would follow her decisions—all of them—until the end of them both. they were both young, and yet all deirdre knew was her trust in her raven companion.it came to her without question, and no doubt would ever prevail over this.

In their infancy, Emaleth had considered Deirdre to be a part of herself— it was maddening whenever they were separated, and the dark child had felt empty whenever it occurred. But she hardly remembered it now, for with the discovery of sight, the child had learned that they were indeed different beings. Emaleth loved her sister more than anyone else, but sight had brought with it an independence that was new and exciting. In the rare moments she could escape the attentions of her sister, the child found a different sort of happiness— one that was all her own to revel in.

As her sight began to grow stronger, it seemed that her awareness of the connection she and her sister shared began to fade. It wasn't to say that she did not still love her sister, or that she no longer desired to be near her, or that the bond was no longer there— all of these things were still true. It was simply that the Forgetting had begun, and Emaleth was becoming aware of much more of the world.

"yes," the dark child agreed. "it has something to show us," she whispered in their youthful babel. Emaleth danced away from her sister, suddenly, after the tuft of fur— wondering where it would lead, and biting or swatting at it when it would flit out of reach.

deirdre felt giddy with her sisters agreeing, and let her sister go ahead. deirdre bumbled after, tail whiplike behind her as she trailed emaleth, watching, observing. she giggled as her sister swatted at it, because the furry whisp was perpetually out of reach, a tease if ever there was one! so close, yet so far! deirdre at last grew tantalized enough to join; she wanted no possession of it, only to assist, to give it to her sister if she could! 

the babe bounced forward. the wind she herself had created in it caused the thing to move in a hurricane spin before it landed right atop her inky nose. the warmth of success crept upon her, that she had helped her sister!, when suddenly deirdre sneezed the thing away in a breath, and the dance begun again.

The dance was better for Deirdre's joining, and Emaleth soon forgot the possessiveness that had earlier made her to feel uncomfortable. She cried out delightedly— "oh!"— as it landed upon her sister's small black nose, and the dark child paused to watch it in wonderment. Emaleth didn't quite understand what they played with, only that it seemed to have a mind of its own, and moved so tantalizingly that instinct commanded that she give chase. It seemed magical, as so many things did at her age.

Emaleth yelped excitedly as her sister sneezed, expelling the blur forth faster than she had seen as of yet— and without pausing to analyze its path, she gave chase. The dropping temperature going unnoticed, Emaleth very nearly darted through the gate to the Otherworld after it— but halted abruptly upon the threshold. She stared after it, weighing her options, until the cold truly settled in around her small body and she began to shiver.

"it has left us," she cried, a small whine as she turned to look upon her sister.

her heart soared as they trundled together, making the thing shift, manipulating it to motion. deirdre hadn't any grace in her stubby limbs yet, and so the affair was perhaps rather messy looking to any onlooker—but it was still a vision to witness, nonetheless, their childish gleefilled maneuvering a heartwarming sight. that remained so up until the last, when the tuft breezed past them to the Otherworld. deirdre did not observe this but instead her sisters quick movement toward that place, and deirdre herself seemed to trip over her limbs as she overestimated her own swiftness. her tongue felt thick in her mouth, but instead of willing her sister toward her with words, she instead implored the thing that floated from them to return so that her sister need not move nearer to where deirdre herself had no desire to go.

yet she knew she would, if it meant her constant companion would be alright. the only way to ascertain that was to never leave her. deirdre depended on her elder sister for much; to lose her would be to lose herself, in a lot of ways. as emaleth shivered the young witch moved alongside her (begrudgingly, fearful of the Otherworld) to lend her warmth. there wasn't much the babe could provide, hardly able to keep herself at a consistent temperature. there was a beckoning within their abode which promised the warmth she felt then-deprived of, but her sisters words saddened her to a point of utter stillness.

she painted the picture of a frozen thing the ice had kissed, bedecked in white and cold and frigid as she was. but a shiver provided proof of life, and deirdre pressed nearer to emaleth. all things that go, come again. someway, somehow. the wheel turns and turns. she looked back to her sister now, their eyes meeting; and at that, a snowflake spun in, thick and substantial, its route leading to emaleth.

Emaleth stood upon the threshold of the Otherworld, unable to see much of note with her blurry vision— only that the brightness matched that of her sister. It was true that she disliked the cold that emanated from the gate, but she also feared rebirth. The changes in this life were agreeable— but a new life altogether! That, Emaleth was not yet ready for; she was not done with this one. Even so, she remained there, looking out in search of the plaything that had led her here. Unsettled, she wondered if it meant to beckon her into the light, but chose to ignore that.

She shivered against Deirdre, also not ready to abandon the toy to the unknown. And, caught between two worlds, the dark child knew the wisdom in her sister's words. Emaleth answered not, merely accepting the words with peace— their eyes meeting acknowledgement enough.

Emaleth did not see the snowflake, not until it landed upon the tip of her nose— and in the same instant that it melted, she felt a frigid breeze throughout her body, originating from the place the crystal had greeted her. She took several paw steps backward, towards the warmth of the den, and in that moment decided she was true in her belief the Otherworld was not a place for her.

 

when emaleth decided this Otherworld was not suitable to her, deirdre found herself thankful. the pale waif knew she herself had no wish to enter that realm. the babe prepared to follow but could not help one last look into the strange world. there was no sign of life out there, none at all! it looked so desolate and abandoned; at the moment she thought this, the wind whipped inward and at the moment it would have lashed her face it only caressed her brow. deirdre turned and tramped toward her sister, finding the cold touch unsettling.

the littlest witch moved toward one of the two beings within their home that offered warmth and food alike. she sought the former, and pushed herself against them without looking at how their furs meshed, missing completely that she was any different from them; she thought that they were all the same, one family that were each dipped in a bowl of ink and pressed upon the page. a little nap was what she wished for then, and she watched her sister with eyes that were suddenly heavy. even her head felt heavy, and she felt it drift downward, onto her paws.

They retreated together, back to the warm depths of their home— this agreement went unspoken, the desolate landscape of the Otherworld casting a solemn veil over the den, their play now forgotten. Perhaps it was the cold, but Emaleth, too, felt suddenly weary; and she took her place near Deirdre, pressed close against their father's chest, before falling into a sleep plagued by unsettled dreams.

She dreamt of being hunted in the Otherworld; of being reborn again in a cold and lifeless landscape. Emaleth slept fitfully, but was soon quieted by the attentions of her father, and the comforts of her sleeping sister. In the morning, her fear of the threshold would be greater for it.