The Floodlands Steady feet, don't fail me now

The plateau cut a sharp relief against the whitewashed winter sky. It felt like winter, anyway, with the frigid temperatures and the snow crunching under her small red paws. Wildfire hunched in the bluff's shadow, where the sheer wall protected her from the biting wind, and stared across the floodplains that stretched to the south. The waterways crisscrossed each other in frozen flumes. She kind of wanted to venture out that way, yet Wildfire knew she would be tempting fate. She had never been very steady on her feet.

Nonetheless, she crept forward, her mind blank as she focused on keeping her footing. @Raven and @Quixote were aware of the situation, as were her daughters (and she'd asked @Kiwi to pass the information along to @Sequoia in case she caught her first). If anyone came looking for them with ill intent, they would be met with tooth and fang. But hopefully, Wildfire thought, breath catching in her throat as she slipped and nearly went down, it won't ever come to that. She exhaled in a hiss, vapor streaming from the tip of her smudged muzzle, wiped her thoughts blank and continued her slippery and wind-chilled trek.

It wasn't often that Elwood left the plateau, but he followed Wildfire's scent away from the borders. He was blissfully unaware of what had transpired with Artaax; his oblivion was both a blessing and a curse of his retired status. He simply wanted to spend some time with his goddaughter, and her trail happened to lead him into the floodlands at the base of the plateau.

The air was frigid and the ground was slick, but it was easy to spot Wildfire's bright coat against the whitewashed landscape. Picking his way carefully over the frozen surface toward her, he called out to get her attention. "Wiffle," he said loudly, the nickname bringing a smile to his lips as he navigated carefully across the network of icy streams. "Where are you going?" was his next question as he slowly but steadily closed the gap between them.

There was a thin, slippery crust on the surface of the snow, as if it had melted partially before refreezing. It made her trek all the more treacherous, though Wildfire refused to let it deter her. That was sort of her theme lately: she stopped letting anyone or anything hold her back.

Crunching footfalls announced company and Wildfire looked up to find her Uncle Elwood picking his way toward her. Her face broke into a smile, her black tail waving. "Oh, nowhere," she called back, "I'm just testing to see if I'm still as uncoordinated as always. I haven't fallen yet!" she huffed with a laugh. "Be careful there," she said as Elwood came within a few yards, "there's a particularly slick patch."

Shaking out her ruff, Wildfire turned carefully to face him, her eyes briefly drifting over the plateau behind him. She thought she caught a glimpse of Bat and Tegan up there, though she couldn't see them now. Returning her attention to Elwood, she couldn't help but wonder, "Is this place like a water park in the summer?"

"I saw you slip, though," Elwood teased in response to Wildfire's quip about not falling down yet. But she was right -- although she had briefly lost her balance, she had managed to stay on her feet. He heeded her advice and continued to move towards her with short steps, carefully placing each paw on the potentially-slick surface and watching where he was going.

He finally reached her as she asked about the state of this particular area in the warmer months. "You know, I don't think I actually came down here at all during the summer," he said, "but it was definitely pretty wet." He had glimpsed it from the ridge of the plateau a handful of times; he glanced up there now, but was too late to spot Tegan and Bat, if they had been there moments before.

"Well, it's a good thing I like water," Wildfire quipped. Thinking ahead to summer and talking about their surroundings reminded her of her recent conversations with Finley and Eljay. Surely one or the other had told Elwood about the plans to visit the caldera in the springtime. She opened her mouth to say something about it but then closed it when another thought drifted through her head.

"I have a random and personal question for you." Wildfire paused to let Elwood absorb that before continuing. "You and Aunt Flea plan on another litter in the spring, right?" She hoped it was a resounding "yes!" but there was another reason she was asking about something that was an otherwise foregone conclusion. Ever since talking to Eljay about his aspirations for fatherhood, she'd begun thinking about playing matchmaker—well, at least when she hadn't been worrying about matricide—only many of the unrelated females in the pack were already spoken for. And on that note, there was sure going to be some competition for breeding rights come springtime.

The prospect of a random and personal question drew Elwood's attention. He pricked his ears, showing that he was ready for whatever Wildfire would ask him. He didn't anticipate it being too out there, and it wasn't; she queried about the next potential litter of Blackthorns. It was something that he and Finley hadn't discussed explicitly (I don't think), but the way she asked it kind of described the way he felt about it; there wasn't any reason why they wouldn't or couldn't, so he assumed that they would.

He was aware, though, that he and Fin were both aging, and odds were that this would be their last chance. Before too long, they wouldn't be able to keep up with the physical, mental, and emotional demands of conceiving and caring for children. He didn't mention any of this to Wildfire now, though; it felt a little personal, and it made him a little sad, in a way, to know that their time was eventually coming to an end. "Probably," was his simplified reply, and then he posed his own question: "Why?"

It wasn't a resounding "yes!" but his casual confirmation drew a smile from Wildfire. She knew they were aging—they'd retired, after all—but neither one of them struck her as old. They were great godparents, even better parents, and she looked forward to the prospect of another generation of Blackthorns.

But if Quixote and Raven planned to have another litter, then Niamh and Colt did too (Wildfire was certainly assuming here, since they were hardly more than names at this point), then that put the Blackthorn patriarch and matriarch third in the running. The pack seemed strong, with plenty of able bodies, maybe even too many. Could they sustain three new litters? What happened if anyone else paired up in the meantime? Eljay wasn't the only single wolf of breeding age.

None of this was any of her business, she knew, but Wildfire worried at her lip before saying, "The reason I ask is because... the pack seems very large already and I'm worried that myself and the girls are placing more burden on an already crowded pack. It doesn't help that we have targets on our backs." She let out a breath, then explained, "My son threatened us. The last thing I want to do is bring war here. And I want to stay with you guys but..." She thought about her recent conversation with Kiwi, as well as her quiet aspirations to travel. Wildfire shrugged, not entirely sure where she was going with this, just that she wanted (maybe needed) to hash it out with someone she trusted and respected in equal measure.

Wildfire's concerns were certainly valid, though Elwood's first response was to reassure her when she hinted at not staying at the plateau. He shook his head. "Even if the pack's a little on the large side, there will always be a place there for you," he said firmly, despite the fact that he didn't really have any control over that from a leadership perspective. However, he was certain that he would do all that he could to ensure that she could stay if she wanted to.

His brows had knit together at her brief mention of a target and her son's threats, and he doubled back for more information. "What happened with your son...?" he asked.

She smiled in appreciation, heartened by Elwood's sentiment even if she knew there was much more nuance to it than that. Her expression faded into a frown when he asked her about her son. Could she talk about it without crying? She wasn't sure, though she supposed it didn't really matter. Her godfather wasn't going to judge her.

"When I was leaving Drageda, I told my youngest four where I was going and gave them the choice to come with me or stay there. My daughter, Kiwi, came with me, as you know, and my sons, Silkie and Tux, opted to stay in Drageda. I didn't speak to much of anyone else, including my elder two. Blixen had enough on her plate already, standing in for the commander, and Artaax was long gone in search of Bat.

We found Bat here, of course, and Artaax ran into her near here not long after. I knew he'd be unhappy about what we'd done but I was naïve, Uncle El. In Drageda, it's considered treason to leave. There's a word for it: natrona. It doesn't just piss them off or anything as simple as that. They hunt down the traitors and kill them. Artaax has promised that's what he'll do."

Her voice failed her there; it felt like someone was clutching her by the throat. Wildfire swallowed convulsively, trying to stave off the tears, but her eyes watered anyway. When she blinked, two perfect teardrops tumbled down her fine red cheekbones to land in the snow at her feet, freezing on impact.

Elwood grew gradually colder as Wildfire's story unfolded, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. When she concluded that the wolves of Drageda issued death sentences to those who left the pack, he couldn't help but shiver -- and again, it wasn't because of the climate. This involuntary motion was from anger and disgust. When he was Alpha of Redhawk Caldera, he had perhaps been too forgiving with those who came and went from their ranks -- but this went against everything that he stood for. He couldn't imagine killing a family member simply because they chose to disperse and live somewhere else.

Part of him wanted to tell Wildfire just how awful he found that rule, but he also knew that Drageda was her family. That was why she was so shaken; her own son had promised to bring an end to her life. And expressing his own perception of Drageda's traditions wouldn't make her feel any better. Instead, he stepped towards her and gathered her into his embrace.

"I'll keep you safe," he said, and he meant it. Drageda might be willing to cut down their own family members, but Redhawks and Blackthorns would do whatever it took to protect their kin.

She thought she had a fighting chance, up until her uncle took her in his arms and said four words close to her ear: "I'll keep you safe." Just like that, the floodgates opened. Wildfire pressed against her godfather—the only father figure she had left (rest in peace, Peregrine)—and mashed her teary face into his neck, sniffling and sobbing silently.

After a few moments, she pulled back and offered a sheepish, watery smile. "That means a lot, Uncle El. Thank you. And sorry about..." She gestured at the ruffled spikes of snotty fur on his neck. "That probably doesn't feel good, particularly in this cold. Want to venture back home, find someplace warm to huddle?"

You can post again or archive if you want! :)

Elwood didn't say anything as Wildfire began to cry in earnest, her cold tears dampening his fur. He didn't mind; he was steadfast as she expressed her emotions without speaking. He couldn't imagine how it felt, to know that your family had turned their backs on you. Hopefully Artaax's threats would prove to be empty, but he remembered Betty's commanding presence and unfortunately, he doubted that she would let this go.

When Wildfire withdrew with a sniffle and expressed her gratitude, he was quick to say, "Don't apologize." He smiled, though, and followed her gesture with his eyes; he couldn't quite crane his neck enough to see the "damage" she had done to his scruff, but he could feel the way the hair had stiffened there. He chuckled and took her up on her offer to head back towards the plateau. "Yeah, let's go," he agreed, bumping against her amiably -- and gently, so as not to knock her off balance on the precariously slippery surface as they turned towards home.