anyone want to hear a star story?
The Totoka River had not been kind to her, but Ravensblood Forest was worse. Olive had been confined to the woods for so long, healing her wounds and begging for forgiveness from any family member that would hear it and now the confines crushed her and she found herself [once again] craving a location fresh and new. A place where she was not constantly reminded of her mistakes and the tension that continued to wrack her family. Teaghlaigh had grown in numbers since their return and while this was soothing to the ragged woman's anxiety of Arturo's [empty] threat, the extra presences within the bleeding forest felt ominous and oppressive. The filly wanted peace, stillness, silence of both voice and thought; and amongst strangers, this was not possible.
So when she was healed enough to move, the vagabond stole away in the night to visit the river that flowed strongly through their forest and rushed towards the sea. It was the farthest she dare go; for she moved gingerly and delicately and, in all honesty, quite slowly — but Olive need not travel far to experience the benefits of a nice jaunt. Olive planted herself next to the river’s edge and dipped her pale lips to the water to drink. The waters which one placated the infection of her ankle now slaked her thirst and she silently thanked the river for allowing her such a reprieve. The cold water rushed to her belly and the life within her stirred. Olive felt the swimming in her stomach and turned her head to look at how her sides swelled out, sitting prominently and heavily on her gamine frame. Olive knew her time was soon, but Olive relished these last few weeks as well as the glow she felt radiate out from within her. Pregnancy was becoming to Olive and the druid seemed to be nurtured from the closeness of her children. It was a wondrous thing, how her body created life. It was the epitome of womanly experiences and she enjoyed feeling the influx of feminine hormones. Though her body was still torn and her silky fur was still sticky from all of the sheepdog’s healing salves and poltices, Olive felt strong and divine and part of something much larger than herself … and honestly, she felt pretty sexy, too.
After drinking her fill, Olive sat and looked up at the night sky. The stars shone brightly, although the sky was becoming continually more clouded and veiled with the oncoming spring season — the season of her children’s birth. Silently Olive began to calculate the positions of certain constellations and where they fell on her map of the night sky, tried to read what laid ahead for her, her husband, her children and her family. There the fae sat for some time, moving her mouth in the silent repetition of star’s names and bathed in the strong energies and gentle pull of the same moonlight that strongly reflected in the swimming of her peridot gaze.
The sky was full and clear, as if it did not linger in the storms and atrocities of the past season. This aspect of the universe was one of Olive’s largest inspirations – how the world moved on without consequence, without anxieties and without regrets, onto the next new day [after new day, after new days]… while she, a mortal being, was replete with these very emotions she sought to escape. Olive couldn’t seem to stop ruminating on the past: Dakarai’s submission, Arturo’s ire… The sylph nurtured a healthy apprehension over her immediate future, too. Perhaps that was the challenge of an earthly existence – and the beauty of it: to experience life as it was, rife with trials and tribulations, happiness and sadness… and overcome it all in the end. To leave this life with a much deeper understanding of the role they played in the divine scheme of things.
If that was the truth, Olive was a sage by now. So she gazed up to the billowing heavens, willing that the celestial bodies above show her guidance, to give her some sign that she was still on the path that they had laid out for her.
A rustle and a whine drew her attention away from the dark sky. Before her stood the silent shadow, the sheepdog who continually reappeared in her life when she seemed to need her most. The small, dark-furred woman was quite comforting, having always been the hushed reprieve that she sought. With Doe and Szymon, she had been the last lingering presence. She had gently healed both her and Dakarai’s wounds – twice. The sheepdog starkly contrasted most of the wolves who accompanied her in life and it was always a refreshing experience [this might have been a product of her muteness, but Olive attributed her affinity to the entirety of the woman’s reserved mien]. Maybe she was the star’s answers to her constant questioning… after all, there were no coincidences in life, only celestial design.
Olive didn’t move her rotund body, but dipped her head affectionately and beckoned the silent woman closer with a flick on her greyscale tail upon the soggy ground.
“I never learned your name,” the sylph sought, but Olive knew she never receive.
do wolves know what ships are? *ponders*
To the young mother-to-be’s delight, the sheepdog moved silently, cloaked by the dark blanket of the night. Upon her demonstration, Olive’s head bobbed in immediately understanding — Olive had made the assumption that the dog’s true name would forever remain a mystery — but this was the first time that the sylph had been able to stop and muse upon the sheepdog’s furtive monkier. All experiences they had together [before this one] had been so busy, so… messy. The flurry of emotions present in each and every one of those moments prevented from her from ever stopping to ask, or even stopping to consider, what her prodigal healer’s name was. For that, Olive felt a thin veil of guilt settle upon her spirit. The stranger deserved more than a name [for all the assistance and kindness which she offered Olive so freely] and felt remorseful that her focus on her own problems had made her blind to those around her for so long.
Just as she nursed her own sense of uncertainty, Olive was sure the silent women did not think so highly of her either. And why would she — what had the cream and ash shewolf ever done to improve upon the stranger’s associations? The sides of Olive [that she worked so hard to conceal, to forget, to pretend they don’t exist], this small medicine woman had seen them all in blazing technicolor. Olive had never felt guilt like she had felt with Doe and Szymon, never felt rancor like she felt when Dakarai had been stolen from her, never felt shame like she felt when Arturo chastised and berated her. The sheepdog had been there for all of it, silent and affirming, but never judging.
“Carina,” the shrouded shewolf spoke after some moments’ silence. Now it was Olive’s turn to tip her head back in demonstration, pointing her black-tipped muzzle towards the night sky, bright with a smattering of stars, like paint pushed about on an artist’s mixing palette. Carina, the constellation in question, was a long string of tinkling stars that shone in a bright zig-zag patten before doubling back upon itself [much in the manner of the big and little dippers]. It’s location in the southern sky meant that such a constellation radiated supportive and nurturing energies, much like the foundation of a building or…
“like the keel of a ship, working to keep the entire ship upright.” Olive explained further, keeping her voice soft and lilting on her breath. Olive believed the constellation Carina paled in comparison to the newly christened Carina that stood at her side, and she hoped the name would be satisfactory to her new friend. But, even words as beautiful as the stars couldn’t represent that sense of gratitude that Olive had for Carina, so Olive stepped her slight frame closer and, if her shadowed companion would have it, she would lay her milky crown across the dog’s set of slender shoulders in an embrace — a silent act of intimacy and trust.
“I— I have a question,” Olive asked, remaining close.
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The atramentous healer’s outward carriage gave Olive the impression that she approved of her new name; and if Olive knew anything about Carina, it was that she had an authentic spirit and her actions belied what she truly felt within — which was more Olive could say about most wolves she met along this coast. A grin swept across the fae’s sliver of a muzzle and when the two women fell into another embrace [albeit side by side], Olive returned Carina’s enthusiasm a thousandfold.
Olive swept her neck slowly, deliberately, to gaze at her belly as. Olive’s concave curves fitted Carina’s convex curves, like the black and the white halves that represented yin and yang. So close to childbirth was she that oftentimes her pup’s movements were completely visible from the outside — as they were at that moment. “They will come soon,” she stated plainly as her eyes trained her son [or daughter] as it rolled against the confines of her womb. “Will you stay close? I— I don’t trust anyone else.” It was a scary thought [the thought that she might need the assistance of a healer, in addition to her lack trust in her own family] so Olive was sure not to linger long on it. Carina had seen it all; it was likely she would understand her exact meaning without a diatribe on the inconcreteness of their reality. The pleasure of the moment had overtaken Olive and she was determined to enjoy it.
“In return for your kindness and unending generosity,” she chimed “may i offer you a humble star story?”
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The sheepdog accepted the offer and Olive felt relief knowing Carina committed to nursing her after the birth, should anything go awry. The mother worried quite often that her attack, the panic that shot through the entirety of her system, had poisoned her womb and hurt the little ones within; and though all pointed to a healthy pregnancy, Olive couldn’t help but feel some guilty for even risking it.
But then the sylph turned her attention towards her half of the promise. It had been quite a while since Olive had turned her attention towards the stars and she felt the distance from them at the moment; if the stars felt undervalued, rarely did they reveal their secrets. Instead they would obscure their messages in a veil of clouds of a persistent mental block, as they were that moment. But as Olive’s eyes of jade surveyed the stars and took note of the planet’s alignments, slowly a clear path began to reveal itself; blossoming in her mind like a bud unfurling its petals at the sign of first light. This feeling was her muse and she would always strive to seek such higher understanding — dedicate herself to the study of the stars. Her eyes darted from the east to the west, locating the stars she knew and identifying its neighbors, assessing their relation to the moon and the earth’s axis. The universe provided endless variety in this way and the prophet took great pleasure in deciphering its message; it was never the same twice.
Olive gave a hushed gasp, hot breath rushing from between her parted jaws. Then Olive looked at Carina, then her namesake constellation, then Carina again. “Your stars, right there,” Olive grabbed the girl’s moonshine gaze and held it strongly, gently leading her to look up at the cluster of nine stars, swathed in the feminine softness and allure of the darkened sky. ”They tell me that your life will not be boring. There’s activity soon to be had, but then there will be silence to reflect. When mars enters gemini,” Olive painted a picture with her facial expression and sweep of her delicate, scarred maw against the atmosphere. “You’re posed to make great and profound partnerships.” Olive then nodded, as if affirming to the universe yes, I heard you.
”It’s not entirely a story — nor is it even practical advice… but it may help you live more inline with the universe’s intentions, and that can do nothing but good. Olive grinned sheepishly, knowing that oftentimes the skills of starreaders were undervalued. The mother had a sneaking suspicion that her friend would understand, and possibly want more. “There’s also a group of stars that I know as Kalb al-Ra’i — the heart of the shepherd.” Olive notched up a creamy eyebrow, looking down at the girl she embraced at her side. ”You have the time…? Olive let her sing-song voice trail off as she gently posed a her question. The sylph did not want to keep the dark girl if she had placed to be. She was a busy thing, flitting and flittering across the coast to different places and different peoples. Olive so wished she could speak to Carina, to learn her true name and to learn her story.... No doubt a dog whom found itself in these wilds had an interesting one.
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Shall we tie up this golden oldie?
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If Carina had wanted a story, well, she wouldn’t have to wait long — as fate would have it, Olive soon found the legends of old upon her tongue and a curious glint in her eye. Olive’s eyes followed the aquamarine gaze of the girl, seemingly trained to find the constellation. Once they had found the crystalline fixture, they did not leave it — instead, they hovered over the distant light [millions of years old at that point] as if she drew the words directly from the depths themselves.
“Kalb al-Ra’i is known as the heart of the shepherd,” Olive began, jostling the girl affectionately with a bump of her shoulder — though she was mindful to the sensitive belly that existed between them. “it is blindly goodhearted and capable of intense passions… when the gods argue and bang their fists, and even when we can hear it in the squalling of the weather and in the tremors underground, it is always Kalb al-Ra’i that settles the forces and brings them to peace.” Olive’s toes flex against the ground as she witnessed the scene play out before her very eyes. — the captivation stirs the lives in her belly and she can feel them roll against the confines of her womb. They wanted to see, too.
But the movement from within reunited soul with body. Olive blinked several times, then looked at Carina and tuckered her nose into the black feathering of the sheepdog’s tufted ear. It felt nice to be so close to another, so intimate with another besides Dakarai. She had so few friends these days. “It is said that, because of this, those who identify with Kalb al-Ra’i tend to have skills in medicines,” Olive picked up her head and shot Carina an exclamative look, having just discovered the synchronism herself. “I kid you not!” she said laughingly, shaking her head and, at last, pulling away from Carina’s side to dance in a circle and face the young girl.
”The night is getting late.” Olive commented, almost disheartened at the late hour. It was at this point that Dakarai would wonder where his wife went, as he was prone to do in this stage of her pregnancy. ”We can offer you shelter ’til the morning…” Teaglaigh’s compliance in this offer was something the fae was not sure of — but Olive was not going to leave her friend wanting if she was in need.
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