Noctisardor Bypass Cause I don't wanna watch you fall apart

Each day that he was stuck in the riven wood, by some trumped up preservation clause. Why did he have to stay amd help them. Why did he feel the need to fix this.

When he was thrown brutally around like ragdoll. He suffered the cruel bite of Hedas words who he was here to help. She had lain with men and it seemed that she couldn't meld herself to the reality that it had been a conscious choice. And as such was now bearing the weight. Same as Druid.

And Anselm. The mountain boy that Etienne would give the very moon too. Didn't even know he existed. Instead he chased after Heda like a lovesick puppy and she allowed it. She was too wrapped up in her dead love that she couldnt see it. And all of them made his stomach hurt.

And Fiona. A terrible high pitched laugh left Etienne and he stalked away.

At least some of the weight of hunting had been shifted to others, and Fiona felt slightly more rested than she had in the week or two prior. It felt like she'd been at this for months, but she knew that wasn't right. She'd only joined Anselm and Etienne in mid-winter, after all. Now spring threatened the snow, and Fiona wondered what headaches the warmer weather would bring. Add six children to the mix, and she was pretty sure they were all suiting up for a series of migraines.

A particularly strangled sound drew her toward Etienne. He had been particularly sulky his entire time in Rivenwood, as far as she could tell. Maybe even before that. She approached with a friendly wave of her tail, hoping she might be able to cheer him up. Or, at the very least, figure out what had made him such a sourpuss compared to how he had been before. It was Etienne who had convinced Anselm to let her join, after all.

How are you holding up? she asked.

Etienne couldn't do more than Fiona could. And it seemed Druid had more trust for the she wolf than he. So Etienne stayed away.

He didn't want to go near a den where Heda's children were and risk seeing the beloved eyes of Anselm staring back at him or their little faces. And that was cruel gods it was cruel. It was not their fault that their father and mother had broken his heart. It wa not their parents fault either, not really.

Because he never said, never would say unless forced. Because he knew even his friendship would end then. Anselm would likely rip him apart.

Etienne didn't know how to explain. Nor did he want to see anymore judgment in Fiona's eyes. He had seen enough to last him a life time. He knew well what she thought of him and as such. She would not gain another inch of ground upon him.

Perhaps it was petty and even monstrous to assume her thoughts and opinions of him. Based on one interaction. But it had been enough. And perhaps even too he was immature and acting out.

He blinked in surprise when the very woman, as if conjured, popped into his field of vision. And he schooled his expression. Though he wanted to lash out at her, at anyone really. He didn't.

Well enuff. Food in my belly, a place to sleep and my wounds 'ave 'ealed.

Etienne spoke of his physical wellness, but nothing of his emotional or mental well-being. Fiona was unsurprised, as physical fitness was often the only thing others thought about when asked. She gave him a lopsided smile. I meant how are you holding up? she clarified. She didn't want to accuse him of feeling or thinking one way or the other, so she refrained from making any observations out loud. I don't think any one of us could classify ourselves as 'happy' here, but are you managing okay? she asked.

Fiona could have sworn she saw a glimmer of something in those eyes of his, but she couldn't be sure, and she certainly couldn't place it.

It had been entirely on purpose that he kept clos3d lip. He liked Fiona well enough. She was a good healer. Did her part as a packmate. But he didn't trust her. Though why he couldn't say. She always seemed to want to dig amd frankly Etienne didn't like many knowing his personal thoughts and feelings.

He nodded. I am managin' well enuff. I am doin' wut de want of me. My tots on it do not matter.

"Well enough" seemed to be the only response Etienne was willing to give. Fiona wasn't satisfied with that, but something else he said stood out to her. What makes you think that your thoughts don't matter? she asked. She let her bum plop down, raising a back foot to scratch at her ear as she waited for him to reply. Idly, she wondered if any of the ragtag Rivenwood crew had sat down and really thought about what was going on inside their own head. Each and every one of them seemed to be spiraling toward some downfall, determined to get there as fast as they could.

Etienne shifted. He had said too much. He cursed himself in creole silently. He hadn't wanted her to pick up on anything. He didn't want to talk about it.

Because dey don't rite now. We have two nursin' mudders. One who is so very sick. 6 little lives to take care of. We need to 'unt and build food mounds. The girls are back. Do dey know 'ow to 'unt?

He frowned. and wut if Glaukos does come back. Will 'e kill Anselm dis time, will 'e make us leave. W'ich wouldn't be de worst ting. But den wut of 'eda of Druid? Of babies?


He stood and shook his shoulders. So yes I 'ave tings to work true, but dey are not as important as dey wellbein' of dose more innocent den me.

He opened up, though he spoke of others and not of his own needs. It reminded her of her conversation with Heda—how she threw herself into motherhood and didn't take time for herself. Druid had done the same, and it had nearly broken her. Fiona had made it her duty to make sure that she figured out how each wolf in Rivenwood was reacting and see if they were actually handling it or just pretending to. Etienne, obviously, was not handling it well.

Heda, Druid, and I have the children covered, Fiona assured him. Three against six was much better than two against six when it came to those little buggers. They'd been taking shifts, balancing the workload, and Druid even seemed to be bordering on stable now. The only reason we have them covered is because Druid took the time to care for herself, and now she's feeling better. Heda might have some notion that they "needed" men around, but Fiona knew they really didn't. Not that having Anselm and Etienne back was going to hurt, of course. They would certainly eat better now.

As for Glaukos, he's not coming back. I ran into him on my way back from the hollow. Fiona didn't plan on doling that information out freely, but it seemed important to share right now for Etienne's peace of mind.

I know you're a good healer, Etienne, but you'll be an even better one if you feel better. His one little slip-up with Heda's daughter didn't mean Fiona had written him off entirely.

Etienne had never been good at taking care of himself above everyone else. It was how he had ended up in this current tangle anyway. Why did he mattwr when there were so many others with more issues than him? He was healthy. His mind was sound. He was a flaming homosexual, but that wasn't a flaw nor a health issue.

Etienne felt a small sense of relief that the girls were doing well with the babies. Though he loved children. Had cared for his siblings. He could not help to take csre of Anselm amd Heda's children and not hate Heda a little bit and he didn't like that feeling

He flinched at the mention of her meeting Glaukos. And he turned to look her over and sniff at her. Are you okay?

Concern in his eyes. She wasn't his favorite, but she was still his little mini family.

Etienne smiled and shook his head. I am not good at dat.

He asked if she was okay, and Fiona nodded. Why had he asked, she wondered. Then again, perhaps it was a product of Etienne slowing down long enough to think about it. When she saw a smile on his face, Fiona reflected it with one of her own. It takes practice, believe me, she replied. True, Fiona had very little baggage compared to the rest of Rivenwood, but she wasn't without it. She had been taught better coping skills, something this lot certainly lacked. Aside from herself, Heda might be the most well-adjusted.

What sorts of things do you like to do just for you? she asked, feeling like they might actually get somewhere if he was willing to dig a little deeper. Everybody around here was so hell-bent on being wrapped up in everybody else's business that they all barely seemed to think about themselves and what they enjoyed. Good thing they had Fiona: her favorite thing to do was figure out what made folks enjoy themselves. Anselm was probably going to be the most difficult in that regard, purely because he was the least likely to admit what he liked.

He had asked because to him Glaukos was dangerous. He had attacked Etienne, had hurt Anselm. This didn't give any pretty picture of the man.

He blinked surprised. He had no problem sharing those small tidbits. Everyone had things they liked.

I enjoy swimmin' in de ocean and rivers. I like to look at de sea creatures in tide pools. I like gardenin'. I enjoy carin' for babies usually. I like to sing.

He shrugged. That was all he could think of at the moment. But it was enough .

She watched the layers fall away, seeing a side of Etienne she hadn't seen before. This was the kind of work she lived for, and Fiona found herself intrigued. Swimming, gardening, children, and... singing? Those were the things that made Etienne truly tick. Some of those she would never truly understand, but then again, she wasn't here to understand exactly why they loved a thing, only to know what things they loved.

I'm afraid Rivenwood is landlocked, she said with a coy smile, though there are some decent rivers here. I've been making use of one of them myself. I'm planning to teach Heda and Druid how to keep their season away, but perhaps you would like to learn, too? In case you want to teach anybody else. Clearly Etienne wouldn't need that sort of thing for himself.

Etienne enjoyed many more besides. But those were the favorites. The singing he knew came from his mother.

I know i already looked some of dem.

He chuckled softly. Sorry yes I would like to learn. I was jus' imagin' my auntie and mothers reactions to dat, but dey love babies an' bein' mothers.

Fiona couldn't imagine loving being in a state of pure hell, but then again, she was sure there were others out there who thought her life was undesirable. To each their own and all that jazz. Fiona was simply glad that she didn't have to deal with kids so long as she could keep her medicine in working order.

Maybe when things chill out a bit, you can visit the ocean and get your fix, Fiona suggested. Not that she was particularly keen on shipping him off right away, but maybe it would improve his mood to go for a good reason, rather than whatever had pulled him away previously. Besides, he seemed to have a decent relationship with his family who lived there, and she knew that would likely lift his spirits. It was, perhaps, something for him to look forward to so he wouldn't be so glum.

Etienne knew that he would probably never have children. And it was a bit painful. He loved them so. But he had many siblings and cousins and Amselm and Heda would probably continue to have them. And if that thought didn't just rip up his guts. But he ignored it, for now. These were thoughts for when Fiona was not around and he could mull on them without someone dissecting them. He did enough of that on his own.

Eti smiled. Yes I would like dat. You could come wit'. Dere is seaweed near de sea dat can 'eal many tings. I will s'ow you dis if you want. Dere be brown, green an' red. Eac' one 'eals different. De brown we dry it, crush it up fine. It be sprinkled on wounds dis stop de bleedin'. Green you be wrappin' it around, cut or broken limb, but you must wrap w'en it be wet. Den w'en it dry it get tite and 'old in place. An red.

His eyes went far away. The day the bear came. Not even seaweed had saved his family.

He shuddered slightly but continued. De red only for most dire of wounds. It mus' be cut into strips. It only be used for wounds dat won't stop bleedin' or all infected with pus. It will 'elp it. If you use it on wounds dat not be bad. It can rip de fles' from your bones. fò anpil, very strong.

Etienne went on to explain a whole lot of things that Fiona didn't find particularly pertinent to the situation, but she smiled politely as he spoke. There was even a point when he seemed to be not all there, and Fiona squinted at him momentarily, wondering what he was thinking about. He snapped back into the present, finishing his seaweed lecture. She wasn't sure how useful that information would be considering there was no supply of the stuff around here, but maybe he was simply trying to impress her with his knowledge.

I think I'll stay here in Rivenwood if you do end up going, she said. The last thing she needed to do was go galavanting around when she needed to stick close to her medicine.

He was a little disappointed she didn't want to go to the ocean. He thought everyone should see it. And he wondered why had she even wanted to talk to him? She didn't really seem to want to get to know him on any level except what she wanted to know.

Perhaps he was reading too deeply into it. Or maybe he wasn't wrong at all. But he realized he didn't need to worry about. Because it wasn't worth the stress.

He nodded. And stood shaking his shoulders and paws out.

Alrite. I'll be goin' Fiona. Umm tanks.

He dipped his head and if she didn't stop him he'd turn away. Find something else to do. Perhaps away from everyone.

He excused himself, and Fiona felt that, once again, they'd somehow missed some communication along the way. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with him, which is how he seemed to take it from her perspective, but that she simply couldn't be away from Rivenwood that long. She watched him a little while longer as he turned away. Perhaps Etienne was determined to be sullen. Fiona had hoped talking of things he enjoyed would cheer him up a bit—and maybe it had for a time—but he appeared to go right back to pouting.

Not much she could do if he didn't want to be helped.