Mature Content Warning
This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so. The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Blood, mild body horror
Set January 7th
Rolled a 9/10 for severity; to give this actual stakes, I'm gonna go ahead and commit to fatality after three days of no response. Sorry Rev, this is what you get when I have no muse LOL
Reverie was a ghost among the willows. She drifted through the swamp at the outskirts of Hearthwood's territory, marking here and there as she went. Occasionally she winced. There'd been — little signs. Aches and twinges in familiar places. She tried to ignore it. She really did.
But suddenly she felt breathless. Reverie halted in her tracks, alarmed by the abrupt sensation of something shifting somewhere deep within her. Nothing she recognized as normal. It felt like — a loosening. A rush of warmth, a —
no, no, no, no...
She didn't need to look down to know. Blood pouring down her thighs; blood falling into the snow. Her blood, always.
screaming
As of late he had been politely avoiding the
Coach, given the season. Her season. He respected both Boone and Reverie well enough to give them space.
Now, he had been alerted to the scent of blood drifting from their borders. Given recent events, Kyrell took no chances. Flying to the source to investigate.
To find Reverie alone quickly melted away his agitation. Relief taking its place, only to quickly turn ice as he realized it was
her blood.
Reverie?
He stared at her, eyes wide.
What's wrong?
She couldn't breathe, she —
Reverie?
She looked up just as her hind legs faltered beneath her, back end collapsing into the bloody snow. A soft cry spilled from her. I don't know,
Her voice rose with panic. I - where is Boone?
Not here. Not here.
And she was still bleeding.
She couldn't breathe.
Kyrell, I -
I'm scared. I don't want to die. She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? She sank fully to the ground.
She was going to die.
Woah! Hey now—
He rushed forward as she fell. He threw one arm over her shoulders and snaked the other beneath her for support. His heart plummeted as he saw the terror in her eyes.
Boone's on his way, I'm sure of it.
He had no idea where the Harbinger was. He glanced over his shoulder, praying that the man's silhouette would be within the shadows of the wood. Let's just hurry him a little, alright?
His voice rose as he called for @Boone to help.
She was bleeding.
Oh fuck.
He pulled her closer, pulse hammering in his ears. Reverie. I'm not a doctor or healer or gardener or anything like that. But I think we need to get you to your den. You have herbs there, right? I won't leave you here—just— tell me what to do. I'll help you get there, promise. Do you think you can stand with my help or will I have to carry you?
sorry for this text wall, i wanted to get all of this in one post
this time, boone did not panic.
he was tired. tired of this. tired of — was he angry? angry at her? he didn't know. hearthwood could not afford this. already, things had begun to crumble at his feet. already, so soon after they had —
her. his wife. his children that, if he had to guess, were growing at her hearth. reina. the milky eyes of the intruder that had begun to haunt him in his sleep.
it was too much.
with jagged breaths, he follows the scent of the blood, the spatters that now painted the marshland; and not long after came kyrell's call. as soon as his gaze lands upon the scene, he fights the vomit that begins to rise in his throat.
he knew this was a risk, he knew, and he had laid with her anyway.
he was living a nightmare.
but there was kyrell! oh, concerned kyrell; if he had the bandwidth for such, boone would have glowed with pride as soon as he saw him. for now, his gaze is empty. his ears sit flat against his skull. as if it were routine, some sort of autopilot, he scoops his wife by the scruff as gently as he can to get her on her feet.
we'll go to moonglow,
he declares, seeking his wife's approval only in a pained glance toward her. but they could not handle this alone. not with — their leader is, um, a healer and a midwife. she'll-- she'll know how to help her.
there was nothing else he could think to do. kyrell, take her southwest, out by the hills. as far as you can get. i'll meet you there. i gotta-- i gotta get some stuff.
someone else would need to stay with her while she was there. hearthwood could not go without a leader, as much as it made his heart drop to his stomach to think of it. he did not yet mention it. he couldn't.
breathless, choking; silent saltwater begins to tear a dark line down his cheek. he begins the trek toward the den he shared with reverie on trembling limbs. he would grab whatever herbs he knew she stored there, whatever the hell could keep her stable on the trip.
in his wake as he prepares to leave is a soft note for his people: i will be back.
he, truthfully, did not know if reverie would. he decides not to think about how soul-wrenching the mere idea was.
Kyrell was speaking to her, but Reverie could hardly make sense of the words. She leaned into him, for a moment reduced to the simple thought that his embrace felt nice. Not intrusive, but warm and friendly. Reassuring. He wanted to get her to her den, and that sounded nice. Yes, let's - let's go to my den...
She murmured. I'll walk. I can walk.
It wasn't so far. Maybe Boone would be there. Maybe he would —
And then he was there. He was there and for a moment she could breathe again — but then she met his eyes, and her heart turned to stone and dropped heavily into her stomach. She knew that look. That mix of exhaustion and resentment and fear and pity and regret, all for her, all because of her. How many times had she seen it in Lestan's eyes? How many times? I'm sorry - I'm sorry, I - please don't -
We'll go to Moonglow.
I'll send you back to Kvarsheim. Without her.
No,
She gasped, already beginning to lose what steadiness she'd found on her feet. How could he? How could he? No, you can't - you can't send me away, I -
Panic now; blinding. He didn't love her anymore. He wanted her gone. Not his problem anymore, not his wife, not his. She couldn't breathe. Reverie took a step back, shaking, and her hind legs collapsed again. Boone was already leaving. Her eyes found Kyrell.
Please.
She broke into sobs. She didn't even notice that she'd stopped bleeding.
Tuft knew something was wrong the moment he woke up. Boone had left without telling anyone where he was going, which was a bad sign. Following his scent trail, he noticed that the female wolf Reverie was also nearby, with the scent of blood trailing her.
Fearing the worst, Tuft ran as fast as he could over to Boone, Reverie and Kyrell. Tuft’s ears drooped at the sight of Reverie and the blood dripping down her leg. Knowing that he himself couldn’t do anything to help her out, Tuft went over to Boone to ask what he could do to help.
“Boone, what can I do to help? Should we put snow on the site of the wound to stop the bleeding?” He asked.
sorry for the holdup!
Boone arrived, with one of the new fellows on his tail, Tuft he thought. Relieved, Kyrell looked to the Harbinger, only to find the man... detached.
Moonglow. He recalled them as one of the packs at the bison hunt in the plains across the mountains.
They were going there? Now?
His brow knitted as he attempted to process it all. It made sense, right? They still lacked much in way of specialists, healers, and tradesmen. But how quickly could they get there? He didn't know where Moonglow resided exactly, but he knew they weren't neighbors.
Kyrell's attention shifted when Reverie voiced her disagreement. Collapsing once more into the snow. Kyrell moved to aid her again, mouth parting as he lifted his head to face Boone.
Boone was already leaving.
Tuft trailed after the Harbinger, inquiring how to act. Kyrell looked back to Reverie to find her in tears. Pleading not to leave.
Both of his leaders were in disagreement. He would have to choose between them.
Kyrell helped lift Reverie to her paws. Guilt and uncertainty plaguing his mind.
I cannot force you to do anything.
His voice trailed. He could say more. He could try to sway her.
He remained silent. He hoped she would seek help.
Mature Content Warning
This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so. The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Suicidal ideation
Wrapping here! Squeaks, if anything needs changed just let me know <3
All the promises he'd made, all the reassurances; when it came to reality, it meant nothing. Nothing at all. Her panic began to settle into something like dread. Something like anger.
Reverie took in a shaky breath and looked at Kyrell.
I want to go to my den,
She said softly, but there was a finality in her tone. Boone couldn't send her away. He couldn't tell her what to do. Not anymore. She'd been through this once already, had swallowed the pain for love of Lestan — and she wouldn't do it again. Not for Boone. Not for anyone.
Whether Kyrell helped her to her den or not, she went in silence. A shaking, breathless silence; a silence filled with rage, so much of it that it scared her.
She would leave him if she had to. She would. She would take herself and these children and
put them at the bottom of a fucking lake if she had to —
Not again. Not for him. Not for anyone.