Wapun Meadow when the coffin shakes and the needle breaks

set for the 31st, AW

It is bold of her, perhaps, to venture from the territory so soon after the return of Kavik's mate. She just needs... space. Time. More than she can afford, really — but this will have to do, won't it? No rest for the wicked, she reminds herself as she moves through the snow-coated meadow, head spinning. Her stomach twists with each sudden shift in perception, but she finds it easy to ignore right now. She's too focused on the chaos of her thoughts, the melancholy sitting heavy on her chest. Is that what she is? Wicked? A witch, she thinks wryly, recalling many times she'd earned a similar title in the past. Perhaps this is her punishment for such transgressions; some twisted form of justice. She sighs softly at the thought, glancing up to the overcast evening sky. She really wonders, sometimes, if she deserves all of this.

I had to, sorry!

She hasn't wandered far from Kavik's new territory. 

She couldn't bring herself to. The healer might have gone so far as to spy on the Creek pack from afar - if only for a glimpse of him - but even she thought that was insane. Moreover, she was far too cowardly. The pain it was sure to bring - watching Kavik forget her, living a happy life with his new mate  - would be immense and the northron wasn't sure she was strong enough to bear it. 

Liri might have moved on from the meadow, if not for the deterioration of her health. She'd survived on carrion since falling ill and was in no means recovering quickly - if anything her cough seemed to be getting stronger. The forgotten woman lingered in an effort to regain her strength - attempting to hunt hibernating creatures as they slumbered.

The fae was clumsy, unbalanced without the weight of her leg to check her. Still, the healer managed to capture an ermine as its beady black nose emerged from a depression in the snow. 

Victorious, Liri snatched up her kill to eat near the den she'd dug into the snow. 

A black speck in the distance catches her eye, halting the sprite in her tracks. It's unlikely that she's been seen, given how well her arctic pelt blends with the wintry meadow, yet Liri doesn't think the stranger to be dangerous. The scent carried to her on the wind is female and smells a bit sickly, though Liri isn't in any condition to talk. 

Deciding to approach, the fae lopes clumsily towards the distant figure - unaware of her identity. 

❤!!

It is the woman's scent that alerts her, belatedly, to her presence; she'd only caught the faintest whiff of it at the borders, a sweet smell tainted by the scent of wounds and singed fur. Unmistakable to her mind. By the time her scarlet gaze finds the pale silhouette camouflaged against the snow and halts her own movements, it's far too late to turn away. She swallows hard as stinging, foul bile races up her throat, heart suddenly pounding out an unsteady rhythm against the walls of her chest. Of course she recognizes this woman, even having only glimpsed her. The memory is seared perfectly into her mind.
She falls back on her haunches as Liri draws nearer, thinking numbly that she's beautiful. Even so heavily scarred, hobbling along on three legs, she's a breathtaking sight. Her gaze drops suddenly, ears pinning to her skull as she realizes there is no way the pale woman could recognize her. Perhaps by scent — but, more likely, this is her true punishment: to be forced to do what she could not before, to have to meet the eyes of this beautiful, maimed woman and tell her that she is the reason her mate betrayed her, that she had been the catalyst for the destruction of her marriage. She'd never imagined this for herself — but maybe it's fitting. Maybe this is karma.

As she draws near, the woman - a delicate, dark smudge of charcoal that reminds her vaguely of Lily - seems to shrink in apprehension. Liri cannot imagine it is she that causes such fear - small, gimpy, and gaunt thing she is. 

Her pace slows until at last, she halts mere feet from the woman, allowing personal space but satisfying her own curiosity. 

The scent of the Creek pack is strong upon the woman and even stronger - Kavik's scent, though she thinks nothing of this yet. 

It had long faded from her own pallid fur but Liri would recognize the perfume anywhere - how could she not when the scent of it seems to light her chest aflame in such a manner?

Another scent is buried beneath the woman's natural odors - one of sickness. 

Liri, seeming to remember her manners, dropped the white weasel before the silent shadow with a nod towards it. "Would you like some?" 

She is unaware of the woman's status as Kavik's new wife and though she recognizes that the femme hails from the same pack, Liri chooses to ignore it for the moment being. The healer sees only a sick young woman in need of sustenance. 

"I am Liri, " she murmurs softly, a kind smile dimpling against her cheeks. 

Her heart feels as if it might wrench itself from her chest any moment as Liri comes to a halt several feet away. She notices belatedly the stark weasel as it falls to the ground, breath hitching at the bell-chime sound of the woman's voice. In another life, she might have pined after such a woman, listening to the kindness spilling from her lips. Here, though, it only makes her stomach twist painfully, as does the unneeded introduction.
No, thank you, I — She starts weakly, voice breaking and faltering as she struggles against the sudden threat of tears. It takes her a moment to find the will to start again, and when she does her voice is thick with emotion. I know who you are, and I don't deserve your kindness. The last word releases the tears she'd been holding back and she turns her face away, gaze finding the snowy ground as her vision blurs.
I'm — I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I — Her next words are half-sobbed and borderline hysterical, though she still speaks quietly. She closes her eyes, losing her ability to speak as she struggles to stifle her tears. She reminds herself, as she awaits the ire she surely deserves, that she has no right to cry at this woman. She'd done this to herself — to both of them.

Her smile flees slowly, replaced by a look of utter bewilderment as the young woman practically breaks down before her very eyes. Pity courses through her, causing her to reach hesitantly for the broken bird. 

Alarm flashes through her. How could this woman know her? She withdraws in confusion before her comfort can reach Alessia. 

"How..?" She whispers uncertainly, unsure who the woman is but feeling her stomach drop in intuition. 

The girl sobs out - "I didn't know."

Something falls into place like the last piece of the puzzle finally arranged - enabling the viewer to see the full picture. "You're...you're, " she stutters softly, unable to finish. She needs no confirmation. 

He hadn't even bothered to mention the fact that he was married. He hadn't thought of her, not even once. 

A picture flits across her mind's eye. Alessia - beautifully dark, whole and sound where Liri was utterly damaged - in heat. Kavik throwing away their love, their vows, without a moment's hesitation. 

The pain tears through her, strong enough that she sways unsteadily as if she might crash to the ground right there. It is worse than any torture she endured, worse than Kelina disfiguring her, it is worse than childbirth, worse than whitecough. Nothing compares to the utter angst that leaves her trembling, struggling for breath as if a hole has been punched through her chest. 

Jealousy curls through her wickedly and she wonders if the woman is aware of how lucky she is, how much Liri would give to be in her place. Does she cherish every moment of her pregnancy - no matter how difficult - as Liri would, given the chance to be a mother again? 

She wants to rage, to hurt her. The fae wants to inflict the pain that this stranger has so unwittingly caused her. She wants them, the both of them, to hurt. Selfishly, the healer wishes something would ruin their new life together as they had her own. It's vindicative and cruel but it feels so much like justice, she can't bring herself to care. 

But it isn't her fault, Liri reminds herself as the stab of rage flees. The fault lies in her husband, or more accurately, Alessia's husband. 

The girl before her is so rent apart that there's nothing the healer could do - even if she wanted to. 

"Do you love him? Honestly?" Liri whispers, the words catching on her breath as she threatens to fall apart before Kavik's replacement. Something in her begs not to know the answer but a need for the truth shines in her otherwise empty eyes, imploring as they find the dark girl's. "Do you even care for each other at all?"

She sinks slowly to the ground as the woman's broken attempts at words wash over her, still unable to open her eyes and lift her gaze to the other. When Liri's whispered questions finally come, they are white-hot knives to her chest, and words spill from her before she can think about them: I don't even know him — and I — don't know if I could love any man, I wish I could give him back; she can't bring herself to say it, leaving it to hang unspoken in the air because she knows she cannot give him back. Their children need him — she needs him, loathe as she is to admit it. She sucks in a breath, eyes still closed tightly as if that will erase the scene before her from reality, as if she could open her eyes any moment and see this is all a dream. I'm sorry. She repeats, voice breaking again, though she knows it fixes nothing. She has nothing else to offer but her own tears and heartbreak.

Something between a laugh and a sob escapes her. 

Kavik had not abandoned their love for a newfound one. This should make her feel better. But it doesn't. 

It had been on a whim, nothing but hormonal urges and timing.

If anything it makes her feel worse - a newfound disgust for her former mate rises within her. It's so strong she can taste bile in the back of her throat, feeling her stomach fight to empty itself upon the snow at her feet. Liri barely manages to swallow this answer - and her emotions - small body trembling with the exertion of maintaining the conversation as it threatens to destroy her. 

"You didn't know." 

The words are empty, meant to reassure but there's not much effort put into them. Liri can't drag forth any sort of emotion for the ebony figure curled before her at the moment, let alone sympathy. There are too many pieces of her own heart rattling around to worry about Alessia's. 

"I'd keep an eye on him. He's proven he's not the faithful type more than once now." Liri doesn't bother explaining the ordeal with Grezig (nor does she care to think on how odd it is to offer Kavik's new woman advice). 

Liri thinks then of these children. Poor babes. 

It didn't exactly scream happy home life - the tangled love triangle, their apparently gay or at least bisexual mother, and their father still in love with his first wife, if he did still love Liri that was, she hadn't the slightest clue anymore. Liri can't help but think it won't last and that it was a mistake for the two to tie the knot in the first place. People had children together all the time, it didn't mean they married them. 

"I wish you the best of luck with your children, " Liri murmurs, hesitantly reaching out to touch Alessia's shoulder with her muzzle. It's brief, fleeting, but meant to comfort as she passes by the dark woman - leaving the weasel and the forlorn mother behind.