this canyon pack must be known.
tamar lay in gazing wonder upon her babes.
and then she rose, calling gently for
@Meadow, whom she had not seen since their birth. tamar wished to make atonement.
She had finished patting the scabs at her side with water—just as the other healer had recommended. Curiously, she studied the wound as best she could on herself—the scarring would be there, but she could only hope that otherwise, it would be no more than a sore ache of muscle from time to time when things had finally healed fully.
Tamar’s howl gave her pause, and she felt herself slump back down momentarily. There was a reluctance to seek the woman out—but, duty, of course, won, and on her way to the Morphe’s nursing den, Meadow stopped at her small herb cache, pulling some of the older milk thistle and grains to travel with. There was limited supply these months—but they would make do with what they had.
Her thoughts strayed once more to the garden Reyson had promised to build her—when their hopes had been high in Epoch, despite Akashingo’s shadow. Now, those hopes had been diminished from within her home, rather than from their neighbors.
When she came upon the home of the Arche and Morphe, she dropped her supplies closer to the den entrance, uttering a soft croon to announce her presence.
tamar sat up when meadow arrived.
yes; there was tension between them, for she remembered how the other woman had held her during the tearful recollection of her time in akashingo.
a shivering breath broached the space.
"the palace took everything from me." her voice was faint, though eyes fastened to meadow's face. "when i saw how reyson was when he came back from that place, i believed it the same of him. and because it took so long for me to find trust in myself again, i took that from him."
a cycle, continuining.
she refused to cry.
Tamar’s reasoning left a certain emptiness in the silver she-wolf. She could not speak to the true horrors of Akashingo, or what past scars Tamar held from such a terrible place. And she could never undermine it, nor disregard it—but she also did not comprehend how Reyson had been placed in the same category as that horrific place, and she felt her shoulders slump, her eyes drifting downward.
“I have been abandoned by everyone and anyone that has made any kind of impact in my life, Tamar… I was born to a large family pack north of here, and a forest fire took out many of them. The remaining—my mother and siblings included—chose to just leave, one after the other, after we had relocated. I have gone from pack to pack my entire life… seeking any kind of connection with another—friend, family—and each time the hurt is deeper when they leave or the pack disperses.
Reyson has done everything in his power to hold his promises to me. We have argued, and we have reconciled… and in the end, he chose me over Mereo. He came here for me so we could build a life in Epoch together because he knew that I adore you, your children and your husband. And I do, adore all of you, so much…”
Her tongue felt dry, and finally her eyes sought the woman. “And I always will. But I am choosing Reyson, too—he’s kind, he’s steadfast and thoughtful. He loves me and I him… But I don’t know if we have a future in Epoch anymore.” And that hurt her to say so very much—for never before had she been the one to abandon, and that felt very much like it might be inevitable in this moment.
"I'm not saying that to punish you, or to bring pain... I just want to be honest with you."
tamar hurt for meadow.
and yet this hurt was tempered by a feeling of distance, and one that turned to dread as the healer spoke.
of course she had known it was coming.
"thank you, meadow." her voice felt very far away. "i understand, and i hope that —" she bit her lip, and said no more, only reaching to touch the other though the gesture now wavered.
Her words would certainly have stung the matriarch of Epoch. How could they not? She considered Tamar as a sister, and she had just revealed to her that it was Reyson she would choose—and yet it was merely fact. Just as Meadow would expect Tamar to choose her own family—of course she should… But strange events, hurt words, and circumstances had brought the possibility to them that the choice might need to be made in the end.
So when Tamar hesitated, reaching for her, but waffling, Meadow was swift to inch closer to the other woman, feeling the sorrow burn in her chest as she made to press her forehead against that of the Morphe’s. “I love you, Tamar. You are more of a sister to me than my own ever were.”
it hurt.
her cheeks were wet once more. "i feel that i discovered mine in you again, meadow."
lips trembled. there was nothing else she felt to say, she must only find acceptance. redemption, to ensure it did not happen again.
tamar had wanted their children to one day find playmates in one another. and now she herself had dashed such a possibility.
She would try to soothe the woman before her, her own heart aching. No one had won in the scenario that had played out—hurt feelings and mistrust instead had been laid, and as Meadow spent the next hour in silent contemplation with her Morphe, she wondered if time would heal the wounds that had been given… or if more soul searching would be required of them all.