Heron Lake Plateau two black eyes from loving too hard

 

Dated for 7/15/18.

Niamh was leadership now, and it hurt Ceara more than she wanted to admit.  Ceara didn't think that it was herself that should have been promoted; she understood she had no business in a leadership role, still too young and too easily inflamed to handle that kind of responsibility.  But Niamh seemed, somehow, like an even worse choice.  Niamh had pulled rank upon Ceara for just asking a question and although she had put that behind her, she had to wonder if it would happen again now that she had any kind of real power.

Not that she'd ever voice these concerns.  Truly there were a number of brewing feelings that she'd kept buried in front of @Raven.  She couldn't help feeling left out here, much as she had with the brat pack she'd hailed from inbetween the Blackthorns and the Redhawks.  Niamh got to be cool.  She was invited to the party to hunt down Screech.  She had been the one to find Towhee after she'd fallen onto that ledge.  She was now on an ever-important pack mission to Moonspear (which Ceara only vaguely remembered from the conglomerate of war-information that Quixote had given her).

Worse than that, it was safe to assume that she and Colt were an item now.  It was something she wished to put from her mind, best she could, but like a pink elephant it kept coming back, and the more she thought about it the more lousy and unwanted she felt.

But even larger than all of that was a mess of emotion brewing inside of her that revolved around the black-furred alphess herself that was too large and messy for her to even begin to untangle.  Every time she found Raven alone she wished to soak up her time, every time she touched her it was like a million tiny fireworks exploded in her nerve endings.

She loved Raven more than she had ever loved anyone before her.  Siarut had left, Screech had turned out to be someone that nobody thought he could be, and Sunny.. well, he'd been a decision in the moment that she regretted ever since.  Raven made Ceara feel valued, made her feel loved and appreciated.  And that wasn't fair to Raven, that wasn't fair to Quixote, and it damn well wasn't fair to herself.  She couldn't go through that kind of humiliation again after Sunny — had she known about her rival-slash-crush getting with her brother, she would've felt this tenfold.

So finally, she withdrew from the last person she had in the Plateau, and she would use Niamh's promotion as her excuse.  

Beneath the receding temperatures of dusk she stood at the edge of the plateau, a goose dangling limp from her jaws.  It was one of many she'd caught today; she'd worked from the moment news had reached her about Niamh's promotion.  She thought hunting would burn some of the excess energy, but it only seemed to make her more restless.

Unable to pant with the goose in her mouth, she abruptly dropped it and stood panting haggard and worn, the setting sun at her back.

The day had been long and tiring. The puppies were a joy that blessed their mother with a sense of purpose and wonder, but they also tested her patience in numerous ways. The alpha female found herself exhausted and careworn, and when @Quixote had offered to mind the pups for a while so she could get some fresh air away from the den, Raven had gratefully accepted the much-needed break. Ever since their eyes had opened, the four new Redhawks had been incessant in their drive to get into things, cause a ruckus, squabble amongst themselves and, more than anything else, try to get out of the den. It was a hectic job keeping four tiny busybodies in a dark little den they didn't want to be in all day long. She let herself dwell on the weariness of it all, but of course she wouldn't have changed a single thing.

The heat had been stifling, but thankfully it was diminishing as the evening drew closer to nightfall. The heavens were painted a spectrum of brilliant colors, the eastern sky a wash of darkling blues and purples, the first stars beginning to twinkle shyly amid the subtly shifting shades of dusk. The western horizon, in stark contrast, was a watercolor of cosmic fire, vibrant hues of red and gold melting together around a sullen orange sun as it descended behind the hills in the distance. She grinned as she took in the beauty of that sunset, suddenly reminded of the young she-wolf whose coat bore much the same palette.

And there she was. Raven rounded a small copse of trees near the edge of the plateau and suddenly, there stood Ceara, as if merely thinking of her had somehow summoned her here. She stood limned in golden light, warm amber hues from the day's last rays setting her fiery coat ablaze in all the radiance of the sunset itself. Raven stood in transfixed awe of her for a moment, reminded once more of how closely Ceara resembled her aptly-named sister, Wildfire, and feeling a fleeting twinge of envy that she herself had not been born with such striking beauty. Then she continued onward, her golden eyes shining with affection for her friend, until she had approached close enough to speak. "Hi, Ceara," she greeted the she-wolf, her smile fading as she noticed that the darkness on her friend's face was not merely a trick of the light. She canted her head uncertainly, the concern from her expression clear in her voice. "Are...you okay?"

She began to pant, hearty and full.  She began to tremble.  She felt cold, so cold, the world was spinning so fast around her that it made her sick.  Raven's voice came to her from a million miles away, as if she were deep underwater and Raven was high above the earth.

She swiveled to look at those gold eyes that were so filled with concern and something flashed in the argent gaze of her wildfire companion, something sharp and indecipherable.  

No, she said, and then she collapsed.

The healer's instincts began to prickle just before Ceara answered her. Suddenly, she was on the ground and Raven was bolting toward her, confusion and terror rising on a tidal wave of emotion inside her. She was by Ceara's side in seconds, crouched down with her paw on the Blackthorn's shoulder, shaking her. "Ceara? Ceara!" the medic first hissed, then shouted. Almost involuntarily, her emotions stilled and her mind fell into something methodical and familiar: the practiced, ordered thinking of an experienced medic. She checked her friend's breathing and heartbeat, noticing as she laid her head on Ceara's side to listen to her heart that she was very warm to the touch — almost excessively so. Fever, perhaps? But Ceara hadn't appeared sick in the numerous times she'd visited the den recently...

It was the dizziness at first that she grappled with, and then it was the black threat of unconsiousness.  She fought and lost, a few precious seconds allowed for Raven to come and assess what had now become her patient.  

The wildfire girl sucked in one stuttering breath as her eyes peeled open, wild and shot, legs reeling in fear as to her it seemed like Raven had teleported to her side.  A pitiful, bumbling murmur escaped from the one on the ground and her hummingbird heart (both from her condition and Raven's proximity) lodged in her throat and choked off any coherent thought she might have been able to express.

She was still dizzy, the world was still spinning, only now the world primarily consisted of Raven and her haunting hawkish golden eyes, serious and physician-accurate as they bored into her and somewhere, in her haze, she was sure the medic could see right through her body and into her mind where that nasty pit of love and resentment swelled.

Rave, she rasped, closing her eyes, 'mmm cold.

The Blackthorn's heartbeat was way too fast, her breathing rapid and shallow. When she finally came to (Raven's relief was so intense she could have screamed), her eyes were bloodshot and glazed. She seemed disoriented and dizzy, and suddenly, the healer remembered Towhee's similar incident and something clicked into place. Heat poisoning.

The temperature wasn't all that hot now that the sun was going down, but the goose laying nearby was evidence that Ceara had been hunting. If she'd pushed herself hard in the course of tracking down food, then heat exhaustion made sense. All Raven could think about now was getting Ceara to water. Fortunately, from this side of the plateau (if Houkie is assuming correctly based on some of the context in Stray's first post), the lake was very close by. "Ceara...stay with me," she said, amber gaze boring steadily into her friend's gunmetal eyes. "You need to get to the lake. Can you get up?" If she could, Raven would steady her and help her hobble to the water's edge if need be. She had to get cooled down and hydrated.

Houkie was fortunately correct because Stray likes to keep things vague to suit the needs of their thread partners.

Stay with me, Raven asks, and somewhere in her mind they are not here, they are somewhere so tender and infinite, somewhere so finespun and momentary.  Raven's smoldering gaze is as steady and weighted as the low-hanging sun.

Can you stand?  She very much wanted to thrust her fists against whatever ailment had gripped her, but she'd worked too hard as of late to have any energy left over.  When she stood it was on quivering, unsure limbs.  For now it is the only strength she has left to offer; walking all the way to the lake by herself would be difficult if not impossible, but headstrong as she was (which was how she wound up with this ailment in the first place) she was determined to go it alone.

It took Ceara some time and a lot of effort, but she managed to get to her feet. Say what you want about Blackthorn women, but they were some strong, bad-ass bitches. "Yes, that's it," Raven coaxed softly as the unsteady Ceara rose, "There you go. Okay, come on. I've got you." Raven let her walk unassisted but stood close by her friend's side, there to keep her upright if she lost her balance. She remained a step behind Ceara's head, as well, her muzzle right beside the flame-red nape of her neck. If Ceara pitched over on her unguarded side, Raven could quickly grab her scruff and pull her back up before she hit the ground. Slowly, haltingly, they made their way toward the lake, whose black-sapphire surface was visible from where they walked.

She leaned easily into the young mother's embrace, and had she been more sound of mind she might have felt some sizzling feeling where Raven had touched her.  Instead it was drowned by the shame she felt for, well, whatever was happening to her.

Which by the way, was terrifying.  But she was pretty much able to put two and two together; Raven wouldn't dunk her in the lake for no reason... it had to be something like why the fuck was it so cold?  She furrowed her brows and leaned against Raven now for the warmth more than anything, counterproductive towards their efforts.

But soon enough they reached the edge of the lake and she dumped herself ungracefully in the shallows, head rested on the soft dirt as she panted.

I don' deserve you.

They hobbled their way toward the lake, Ceara leaning heavily into her, and Raven was rock-solid in her support of the weak she-wolf. Within a few moments, the panting Ceara collapsed into the cool shallows and was soon resting with her head on the bank, rippling water lapping at her russet sides. "I don' deserve you," her friend mumbled, and Raven looked at her and shook her head. "Yes you do," she answered softly, repeatedly dunking and lifting a water-soaked paw to stroke Ceara's head and ears, dampening the fur to cool her down. "Drink," she added, her voice still suffused with concern.

If only she knew.  Water lapped around the Epsilon's flamesoaked pelt, droplets clung to her face from where Raven stroked her face.  She did what she was told and lapped up what water she could.  

Slowly she came to the realization that nobody would ever love her this much.  Even if Raven didn't mean it, even if it wasn't how she wanted Raven to love her (as childish and wishful as that was), nobody would ever look upon her with this kind of tenderness.

She'd worked herself to the bone not just because she wanted to be helpful but because she loved and she'd failed at even this, too, because now she was sitting here being tended to when she could be up and doing something so that maybe Raven and maybe anyone else could look at her efforts and not see some tryhard.  

Somewhere between these thoughts the world had stopped spinning and it was only Raven's face she saw, haloed by the sunset, and she closed her eyes so she could find some semblance of peace and began to cry pitifully against the soaked dirt.

Oh, but if only Ceara knew. That Raven and Quixote did not see her as a tryhard, and that there was always a chance love could find her when she least expected it. That was how it had happened for Raven, in fact. But sadly, Raven was clueless about the storm that raged inside her friend at the moment. All she could see was an overheated, exhausted packmate who needed her help, and the healer did her best to provide that help in the capacity that she knew how.

She continued to douse the young wolf's pelt with water and looked on with approval as Ceara drank. When the she-wolf began to cry, though, the healer shhhed her gently and nudged her head with her nose, gently and comfortingly. "Hey, it's okay," Raven said in a soft voice just above a whisper. "You're gonna be okay."

Dramatic and childish, she was blind to the possibilities the future could have for her.  Instead she was focused on the now.  It was the sun hanging low in the horizon, the light limned the fine strands of Raven's fur.  It was the tenderness in the sweep of her paw, the quiet of her voice.

Softly, broken, she croaked, I love you, and even though it was more than that, it was all-encompassing... Raven could never know.  Thank you.

Wanna wrap this one up? :)

The Blackthorn's words were soft and pained, but a smile nonetheless touched Raven's lips as she heard them. She nuzzled the top of Ceara's head and replied, "You're welcome, and I love you too." Of course she had no idea what her friend actually meant by those words, but the love she felt for her friend was there all the same. As the sun dipped behind the mountains and the curtains of night began to close over them, Raven would remain by Ceara's side as long as she needed to be in order for the fire-pelted girl to be okay.