Blackfeather Woods just another story of a brokenhearted soul;

@Titmouse - got a bit rambly oops

peace. it bathed the lands in forms of pure silence. nothing stirred as she moved with her phantom like grace betwixt the tall trees- an eerie splash of pale in the otherwise black toned forest. the air was still as if it were holding its breath in anticipation of something, living in constant disbelief that peace could ever last and rather than rejoicing in it living in a constant suspicion whenever it would try and intrude. oh how she could relate. even the ravens were silent wherever they slept in the safety of the high branches. she could've been the only being to exist in that moment as she moved through the sleeping lands- wandering with an aimless intensity. 

sleep had refused to grace her that night and after really only trying for a few moments she'd been all too glad to give into the buzz running through her veins and settle to walking it off. she much preferred the long nights anyway and if it was not for needing to be around to help with anything during the day she'd gladly become completely nocturnal. sighing softly the woman would glance down to her paws as she treaded lightly across the floor. she'd made it into blackfeather woods and she was glad but why did she feel so damn hollow? it was always there, this strange feeling in her chest where it felt like something else should be but there was nothing, it was as void as ever. was she destined to feel this way forever? wandering in an aimless state without any purpose until finally death would catch up to her and slay her as she'd slain so many others? her jaw would clench, maybe they were right. maybe she could be nothing more than a soldier...maybe...maybe she should never have left.

with that she'd growl lowly and shake her head roughly, what fucking nonsense! she was being a right idiot, that was no life- this was better and that was that. with that she'd shove any doubts away with an almost surprising surge of aggression until her expression resumed its more familiar rather blank look. a soft noise would sound behind her and she'd glance up in surprise to see a raven perched on a branch- watching her keenly with its beady black eyes. her head would tilt slightly as she'd watch- had it been following her? she thought back now to a few days ago when a raven too had been keeping an eye on her. could it be the same one? and if so why? it would take to the air and with a silent beat of shadowed wings disappear into the darkness so quickly she almost doubted that it had ever been there in the first place.

shaking her head slightly she'd move forward until coming to a small clearing where the moonlight filtered through the branches and bathed everything in its eerie but beautiful silver glow. she'd step into it and finally allow herself to lean back on her haunches- head tilted to the night sky above. it sure was something she'd give it that. she always wondered if the stars were simply balls of light or did they represent something more? she knew some wolves believed they were the spirits of the dead but she'd always been quite skeptical of such things. but who knew, who was she to say they weren't? half of her face was shadowed by a higher branch giving her gaze a mismatched look- one eye appearing an ashy brown whilst the other seemed inky black. she'd inhale deeply as a soft breeze rustled her fur- the first one that night.

Sorry for letting this sit for so long! I'll try to match but I dunno if I can lmao.

After his night of terror — characterized by vivid, lucid, awful nightmares which placed the forest in direct opposition to the ghostly boy — he had not slept much in the days to follow, afraid of what the mushrooms had awakened. He was uncertain of himself, weakened by his doubts, but mostly afraid that Abraxas would find a moment to find his retribution for the crows that had been slaughtered. He was exhausted as he roamed the woods; easily spooked by the crack of debris along the forest floor, or the clatter of eager beaks overhead. The grinding of branches against tree trunks as they swayed in the wind. Every little thing had him amped up to eleven and Titmouse wasn't sure if he'd ever feel right about his place in the forest again; the shadows were always watching, and they had teeth.

When the forest pack was re-established he had been mostly crepuscular, keeping to the Web whenever the daylight was present, and his nervousness had him slowly transform in to something of an insomniac — not just nocturnal — and he found himself comforted when the daylight hours brought thin spring light to warm his body. He wasn't so lucky at this point; Titmouse had been roaming and letting his mind drift, watching the shadows grow lengthy with the coming of the night and feeling his anxiety ripen with the darkening of the sky. The stars were like many tiny eyes staring down at him, judging him, mocking him — and so he could not sleep no matter how badly he wanted to. Even if he did, he knew he'd be visited by nightmares. By death. He could not allow harm to come to Maegi as he slept — and what if it was worse than that? What if he did allow himself to sleep and Maegi was hurt because of it?

So, he could not sleep. He ached, he pined for the days where the forest and its darkness was a comfort to him, and he roamed like the restless spirit that he knew himself to be.

oh don't feel any need to! depending on my mood i sometimes just really ramble ahaha

as presumed, the peace was short lived before sound filtered through the tall trunks and reached the woman's perked ears. the footfalls were soft but in a night as quiet as this, sound would be your greatest enemy. nevertheless it wasn't a negative entity that disrupted the still of the woods and so the soldier remained relaxed- simply allowing shadowed eyes to fall from the star scattered sky and narrow against the deeper gloom of her surroundings. ah, there he was. he too had a ghostly look to him as his pale form drifted along- sticking out in the black canvas it travelled along. he didn't seem to notice her so for now she was content to simply watch, still side the occasional twitch of her long tail. the only sign that the spirit within her was perhaps more restless than her facade tended to reveal. 

he was almost gone now, having passed with his gaze determinedly fixed on what was in front of him, as if moving forward was all he had going for him. her first thought was 'well that was peculiar now back to my own thoughts' but she suddenly surprised herself by actually wanting to socialize. the last time she'd properly seen the boy whom she now knew was 'mou', he'd been cryptic and quite lost to the present world. not only did she want to see how he was doing although she highly doubted he'd remember that day, something about him caught her interest. and although this feeling was so crazily foreign to her, perhaps she almost felt...lonely? her thoughts weren't particularly pleasant tonight so the idea of focusing on someone else wasn't all too bad. "mou" the word would slip from her jaws in a kind of 'loud whisper', finding herself for some odd reason unable to quite raise her voice and truly break the night's thick silence. something about the thought just seemed plain wrong.

if he'd glance back at her, her gaze would say what words didn't need to; 'care to join?'. after all they did seem to be the only living souls to roam the forests that night.

He heard his name - one of them - whispered in the night. It made him think of Maegi, which made his skin shiver.

The man searched the darkness, the starlit gloom, and almost didn't see the large, pale, silverlit shape that was Tundra; she was watching him, blurred within his own vision, bifurcated and half hidden in black. He sighed. His good eye shifted over her and briefly he saw Maegi standing in her place - the trembling woods stood around them both like the bars of a cage. When he blinked he saw it was Tundra and breathed another sigh.

Not knowing what to say, Mou stood there and appeared to nod off, only to jolt awake with a lift of his skull. He knew he had to keep moving or he would be asleep again - and so he stumbled, dragging himself through the under-scrub and on to a nearby deer path.