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Duck Lake straight to the heart, - Printable Version

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straight to the heart, - Nephele - January 27, 2025

how long had it been since she'd gone exploring? it had felt like forever, cooped up in a shadow of grief never to open the curtains again. but through her own will and the support of the valley, the sun had managed to trickle it's way back in.

she thought of @Alasdair often still, even now as she neared the edges of an unknown lake she thought of his boyish face and of his playful laughter. there were times she couldn't recall the smaller details of his appearance, like the mint of his eyes or the creases that lined his face when he would smile.

she found herself tearing through memories, desperately trying to grab hold of the last time she'd —

a splash tore her from her thoughts and to the water, toes meandering over to dip along the murky edge. she watched as the sediment cleared and the water returned to it's original state, marking whatever had stirred up the water long gone by now.


RE: straight to the heart, - Alasdair - February 09, 2025

@Nephele a tag in case this got lost in your threadlog. Wasn't expecting this one!

He drifted—in and out of areas. Whether they were meadows, rivers or woods, Alasdair was not keen to stay in one spot for long. He refused to go to the shadows of the tall mountain, let alone look toward it for any length of time… as if they would sense him, and once more snatch him up.

Faces blurred with time—not just his family—but those that had taken him from comfort and what he had known.

Matts collected along the back of his ears—the long fur of his tail and the youthful man’s flanks. Mud caked the bottom of his belly—a gleaming twinge of feral despair clinging to his gaze as it now sought movement across the waters he traipsed.

Another—a stolen glance of pale movement. A tug at his heartstrings that he mistook for anxiety before his lip curled—gem-green eyes glaring to where the other stood, and the splash that had revealed her to his senses.

He waited only a stolen moment before paws clambered away from the bank depths of the lake, forgetting his thirst—ignoring the hunger that tore at him. Company was not welcome.

No one was welcome.


RE: straight to the heart, - Nephele - February 09, 2025

was it wrong for a mother to forget the face of her son?

the curl of a lip, a flash of teeth. perhaps it was maternal instinct that drove her toward the youth. she could scarcely make out the details of his features from this distance, even less so with all the mud that clung to his fur.

but even from a distance she could tell he was still young. around the age of her own children if she had to guess?

his feral, disheveled appearance suggested the boy was alone. worry gripped at her heart, "wait!" she called for after him, her footsteps quick to move in his direction.


RE: straight to the heart, - Alasdair - February 25, 2025

Usually, his retreat from others was taken in good faith he meant no harm—this one, however, seemed to wish to follow him. Panic gripped him—fleeting in that moment—a voice that echoed not just across drinking waters but in his heart.

A glance stolen back in alarm from his shoulder, instinct demanding he quicken his pace in the act of fleeing when it came to survival. Instead—fatigue of flight fell upon him, and his gaze became more harrowed, if not feral as it narrowed upon her. What?” Sharp, his words—his voice breaking from disuse as his tail shot higher in the air, as if somehow, the malnourished and mud-stricken wolf could somehow look fierce.