In the end, she turned northward once more, circling back to a place she'd passed through without much consideration. The meadow was like any other in the winter, and, distracted, the black bear spent some time digging through the snow. Beneath, there were frozen berries and animal spore — nothing terribly interesting, but something about it pleased her.
Easy straightened up, turning in a slow circle to scan her surroundings. She was not looking in the immediate area, but in the far distance. There, up ahead, stood the beginnings of a deep woodland. Her nose twitched as it she might already begin to take in its scents, but of course, she was too far away.
The black bear began trotting in that direction, on the lookout for anything of interest on the way.
The first and only time she'd ever had wine was in Akashingo.
Oh, how she missed it.
Sweet and thick upon the tongue, then a long and languorous bliss. Talking idly of nothing; dozing off on the sun-warmed rocks.
All troubles gone—for a while, anyway.
The scent of berry bushes brought Lilitu into the meadow. She nosed at the frost-covered fruits as she passed by, avoiding thorns, wondering how she might create that magic that Pharaoh and his court had once provided. . .
Oh!
Lost in her thoughts, she'd nearly come up on the heels of the dark stranger, and backed away quickly. Sorry. Sorry, wasn't trying to pounce on you or anything.
A short, nervous laugh left her lips, which trembled slightly.
The black bear was so intent on moving forward the the woman was nearly upon her before she noticed her. And she did, for a moment, wonder if she was being attacked — but it was a very short moment before she slowed, bemused, and ended up being the one to startle the other after all.
"That's alright," Easy said at once, her tail giving a few swift shakes. "You can pounce me if you feel like pouncing. I'd be a good sport about it."
But jokes aside, the woman's appearance was just a little — alarming. And it was not so much the scars as it was the quiver in her features. Easy recognized them both well enough.
"I'm looking for a den site," she said, her voice gentling. Even so, when she said, "You can help me," — it was clear she meant, you are going to help me, more decree than invitation. She started walking again, but more slowly, this time. "My name's Easy-Ishara Morningside," she said to the younger woman. "Easy. What's yours?"
The woman was cool about it, which made her laugh more, despite herself. She sank her teeth into her lower lip to stop herself from breaking down completely into hysterical giggles, instead listening to what the stranger had to say next.
Of course, she followed. Easy,
she replied, smiling. That's. . .easy to remember. Heh. I'm Lilitu—Lilitu Frostfur-Mayfair,
she added, in case the name meant anything to the other wolf.
She still craved wine, but perhaps a task would be just what she needed to take her mind off oblivion.
So you're expecting pups?
Lilitu asked gently. Or helping someone you know?
The black bear was relieved when it was laughter instead of tears, but still just a little concerned. She wagged her tail along with it all the same, her own smile genuine but just slightly strained.
"Pleased to meet you, Lilitu," she said, glad when the laughter ended. She liked laughter! She just worried, in this specific instance, that it might lead to other high emotions. "I am expecting," she agreed, her tail whisking once more. "It's just me and my son, Sumac — you didn't miss any territory markers."
Since the surname had been provided, Easy cast her mind back, flicking through a line of faces in search of that odd little tingle —
"Are you related at all to Constantine Mayfair?" she wondered, turning over a muzzy memory of the dark alpha of Swiftcurrent Creek. And then, almost in the same place but several years removed, there was another face. "Or Ibis?" she asked, and yes, that face fit just a little better.
She knew her surname could bring up some memories, but she'd never expected what to mine from the woman. At Constantine, she shook her head, but then—
Ibis?!
Lilitu exclaimed, then modulated her tone. Um, sorry. But—Ibis? That's my mother. Uh. . .was my mother,
she amended, a little sadly.
But her spirits perked again as she leaned forward, cocking her head. Did you know her?
she asked.
Easy was almost sorry to have brought it up, since she didn't have much to say about the woman.
"Only very briefly," she replied, apologetic. "I knew her while she was the leader of Uaine Gorsedd. My mother lived there, too, and I stayed with them for a little while." Easy suspected that she ought to speak of her own mother in the past tense as well, but that was expected for someone of her age. Lilitu looked to be about the same age as her eldest children. Easy wondered if it was a recent loss, but either way, "I'm sorry to hear that she's passed. She was very kind to me. I liked her right away."
The woman received a sweeping look from the black bear. If she was Dutch's age, then she was about Sumac's age as well. Easy had been reluctant to give his name out to most of the women she'd met, but Lilitu was the daughter of someone she'd much admired. And she was scarred, which told Easy that she was sturdy — something that she thought Sumac might appreciate in a life partner.
"Are you on your way anywhere in particular?" Easy asked, perhaps a little abruptly.
She mouthed Uaine Gorsedd, marveling at the rich sound of it. She wished she had been there to see it—to see her mother lead in her own right. The condolences she accepted with a brief nod; the tears didn't come as easy after these many seasons, but every so often, they pricked at the corners of her eyes.
This was one of those times.
Ah,
Lilitu began, blinking hastily, I don't know. I'm thinking of maybe visiting my father. He was living north of the mountains last time I saw him; maybe he's still there.
Or maybe he's dead. Or maybe he will be once you get there and bring your bad luck to his doorstep.
Sympathy welled in the black bear's heart. The young woman seemed awfully lonely. She could only hope that Lilitu would find her father where she meant to.
"Tell me his name," she said to the girl, "And any others you hope to find. If I come across them, I can at least tell them that I saw your face."
Easy's kindness was almost too much. Akavir,
she managed, feeling as if she could cry. Big man, black pelt—you're so nice, Easy. Thank you.
They'd stopped upon speaking, and she realized that the stated goal of finding a den had still gone unreached.
Oh, yeah,
Lilitu broke in. Your den. Do you have any kind of place you're looking for in particular?
She'd never had kids, but she knew mothers liked spots that were hidden, secure, and warm. She wasn't sure if they'd find that in this open meadow, even with the myriad bushes around them.