☼ ☼ ☼
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. She was a hurricane, a frenzied flurry of wispy, speckled down and wildly splayed limbs grasping at the green earth beneath her quivering frame, thrusting herself forward by any means possible with sheer recklessness and wanton abandon; drunk on pure instinct, the unrepentant and primal urge to get away, to run, not again, not this, this just wasn't fast enough—
—but running from what? This intensity had engulfed her so swiftly, had snuck up from abaft and snatched her by the scruff of her nape, leaving not an inkling of it's intent or what could have tantalised it out of it's hiding place at such a time as now. This cruel beast, this villain in her head that could suddenly bring the girl to her knees shaking, was supposed to stay back on Sparrowhawk Island, where it belonged, where it had been created, where it thrived. It had no reason to be here, no fear to feed on, and nothing had gone particularly wrong at the lair. Her injury was minor, a nuisance at most, and her new acquaintance had come out practically unscathed, save for a tender shoulder. The beast had fled, she had parted from the incident with sound mind... she was fine, everyone was okay, and if anything, it could have been worse.
Yes, it could have been so much worse.
For whatever reason, this one realisation, was the final nail in a coffin she didn't even know was being built.
It was all just too much for the dove, and so she unravelled; a terrified and overwhelmed young soul who was no longer armoured, protected by the adrenaline and ignorant hope that had carried her forward thus far. How foolish she had been to believe she could have done this without help, that she was strong enough to care for herself, to care for Oath. She was a naive, little whelp playing make believe, thinking she could become alpha some day if she just carried on her delusions. As if moving to new lands somehow made her a stronger, more worthy wolf. It didn't. It never would. She was the same stupid girl, one that was too sensitive and cried too easily, who couldn't speak up for herself, and who had just offered herself up to eat on a herb-embellished platter. To destroy herself. To destroy Oath.
She was exhausted.
The first sob ripped itself from her breast in a strangled choke the moment the lake came into sight from between the curtain of aspen trees — and once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in a continual and unbroken stream. Heaving sobs wracked her tired frame, forcing the fae to slacken her pace as she gasped for gulping breaths, soon bumbling clumsily out of the tree line and into the open of the lake shoreline. She attempted, halfheartedly, to blink away the tears clouding her vision but to no avail, meanwhile narrowly avoiding tumbling onto her side as she staggered towards the orange and brown blob perched on its usual branch, collapsing into a sniffling heap right in front of her once she was close enough. She was a mess.
A tail-tucked, head hung, snotty, wet, whimpering, out of breath, shivering and incoherent mess.
—but running from what? This intensity had engulfed her so swiftly, had snuck up from abaft and snatched her by the scruff of her nape, leaving not an inkling of it's intent or what could have tantalised it out of it's hiding place at such a time as now. This cruel beast, this villain in her head that could suddenly bring the girl to her knees shaking, was supposed to stay back on Sparrowhawk Island, where it belonged, where it had been created, where it thrived. It had no reason to be here, no fear to feed on, and nothing had gone particularly wrong at the lair. Her injury was minor, a nuisance at most, and her new acquaintance had come out practically unscathed, save for a tender shoulder. The beast had fled, she had parted from the incident with sound mind... she was fine, everyone was okay, and if anything, it could have been worse.
Yes, it could have been so much worse.
For whatever reason, this one realisation, was the final nail in a coffin she didn't even know was being built.
It was all just too much for the dove, and so she unravelled; a terrified and overwhelmed young soul who was no longer armoured, protected by the adrenaline and ignorant hope that had carried her forward thus far. How foolish she had been to believe she could have done this without help, that she was strong enough to care for herself, to care for Oath. She was a naive, little whelp playing make believe, thinking she could become alpha some day if she just carried on her delusions. As if moving to new lands somehow made her a stronger, more worthy wolf. It didn't. It never would. She was the same stupid girl, one that was too sensitive and cried too easily, who couldn't speak up for herself, and who had just offered herself up to eat on a herb-embellished platter. To destroy herself. To destroy Oath.
She was exhausted.
The first sob ripped itself from her breast in a strangled choke the moment the lake came into sight from between the curtain of aspen trees — and once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in a continual and unbroken stream. Heaving sobs wracked her tired frame, forcing the fae to slacken her pace as she gasped for gulping breaths, soon bumbling clumsily out of the tree line and into the open of the lake shoreline. She attempted, halfheartedly, to blink away the tears clouding her vision but to no avail, meanwhile narrowly avoiding tumbling onto her side as she staggered towards the orange and brown blob perched on its usual branch, collapsing into a sniffling heap right in front of her once she was close enough. She was a mess.
A tail-tucked, head hung, snotty, wet, whimpering, out of breath, shivering and incoherent mess.
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Said orange and brown blob had been resting in the sunlight, almost always to be found perched high above the ground, eyes closed and breathing slow, steady. Napping had become one of her new favorite past times - one she'd never really had the luxury of before. Even those quiet moments with Goose on Sparrowhawk had been tainted; tinted red with fear and uncertainty, wondering which breath would be their last, or when they'd finally be ripped away from each other. Their wild journey to the Teekon Wilds had, also, left absolutely no room for relaxation - the trek had been dangerous, full of fear, emotionally and physically taxing. Bascially, their lives had been insane, turbulent beyond belief. What a cruel joke.
The female blinked her eyes open and stared out at the sparkling water. The stillness of the pond was beginning to get to her, to ease her into that familiar sense of security that was dangerous and entirely false. There's still danger here, her mind supplied helpfully and for once the femme didn't disagree with her internal voice. Even after all these calm days, she knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. Something always happened. Oath rolled her shoulders, a crack sounding for her troubles, as she scented the air. Nothing but wilderness and wildlife.
Oath loosed a yawn, stretching her frame along the branch before she caught wind of something - something wrong. She twisted her ears, attempting to catch the sound she knew didn't belong. It was sobbing. And she knew who those cries belonged to. Too bright eyes snapped to the treeline where a familiar white shape was rocketing clumsily across the open space between the aspens and the lakes muddy banks. Oath shot to her feet, nearly falling off the branch as her lips curled back, teeth exposed and expression hard, sharp. "Goose!"
Oath's paws hit the ground before she realized that she'd stepped off the aspen and she was immediatly at Goose's side, frame pressed into her protectively while wild, panicked eyes scanned the treeline. She absolutely expected something to come bursting after the dove.. but nothing did. The huntress straightened and glared into the distance until she was certain that nothing had been following. When she felt that they were truly in the clear, and her hammering heart was no longer about to stall, Oath stepped back and took in the heaving, wet mass of white and cream fur that was her best friend. Her throat locked.
"The hell," She managed to grind out, stepping up to run her teeth along Goose's back and inhaling deeply. There were scents there. Scents she didn't recognize. Oath saw red. "What the fuck happened? Are you hurt? Look at me." She snapped, dropping into a crouch before the pale female - eyes hard. "What happened?" Her voice was softer this time, but her eyes still flicked up, down, around in an almost nervous manner.
Something had happened.
Something would always happen.
There's still danger here.
The female blinked her eyes open and stared out at the sparkling water. The stillness of the pond was beginning to get to her, to ease her into that familiar sense of security that was dangerous and entirely false. There's still danger here, her mind supplied helpfully and for once the femme didn't disagree with her internal voice. Even after all these calm days, she knew it was only a matter of time before something happened. Something always happened. Oath rolled her shoulders, a crack sounding for her troubles, as she scented the air. Nothing but wilderness and wildlife.
Oath loosed a yawn, stretching her frame along the branch before she caught wind of something - something wrong. She twisted her ears, attempting to catch the sound she knew didn't belong. It was sobbing. And she knew who those cries belonged to. Too bright eyes snapped to the treeline where a familiar white shape was rocketing clumsily across the open space between the aspens and the lakes muddy banks. Oath shot to her feet, nearly falling off the branch as her lips curled back, teeth exposed and expression hard, sharp. "Goose!"
Oath's paws hit the ground before she realized that she'd stepped off the aspen and she was immediatly at Goose's side, frame pressed into her protectively while wild, panicked eyes scanned the treeline. She absolutely expected something to come bursting after the dove.. but nothing did. The huntress straightened and glared into the distance until she was certain that nothing had been following. When she felt that they were truly in the clear, and her hammering heart was no longer about to stall, Oath stepped back and took in the heaving, wet mass of white and cream fur that was her best friend. Her throat locked.
"The hell," She managed to grind out, stepping up to run her teeth along Goose's back and inhaling deeply. There were scents there. Scents she didn't recognize. Oath saw red. "What the fuck happened? Are you hurt? Look at me." She snapped, dropping into a crouch before the pale female - eyes hard. "What happened?" Her voice was softer this time, but her eyes still flicked up, down, around in an almost nervous manner.
Something had happened.
Something would always happen.
There's still danger here.
☼ ☼ ☼
Goose instantaneously melted herself against the the russet the moment she leaned in. Oath was home, and that's all her trembling heart wanted right now — to be with her home, who was safe, who was warm, and who was hers. Her previous gut-wrenching sobs quieted down, softened into long, weepy whines as she buried her nose into Oath's chest, misty hues planted firmly on the ground where she planned to keep them for as long as she possibly could (which would have been forever, given the chance). She desperately wanted to reassure the russet — who was currently scanning their surroundings frantically for signs of incoming danger — that nothing was actually pursuing them in an attempt to calm her down, but Goose couldn't bring herself to move.
With her frantic mind beginning to gradually settle for the moment being, she could no longer ignore the heat of embarrassment which was already starting to prickle uncomfortably underneath her skin, feelings of regret, as always, making themselves at home. So there she remained, firmly planted, dreading the inevitable moment that she would be forced to explain herself. Already she was shrinking inwards at the shocking recollection of her entrance, which would also without a doubt be discussed; she had managed to scare the huntress half to death, gotten them both sticky with muddy lake water, and could have alerted any actual threats to their location to top it all off.
Oath soon peeled herself from the dove's needy grip — much to her chagrin — to smell the day's debacle off of her inspect her sorry form —which to no surprise, was sight for sore eyes indeed. Tear-matted fur tufted up in all directions alongside her cheeks and neck, exasperated further by the dove's earlier insistence of smushing her face into Oath in a pitiful attempt to hide. Her coat, not much better, stood windswept in all directions thanks to none other than her speed dash, all of which was now solidified wonderfully into place, all the way up her legs, stomach, and tail, at the fault of the lake mud she had barrelled through. Any other day this would have been the height of amusement between the two, but today, the tone was different. At this moment, she was so childlike as her youthfulness seeped glaringly through the cracks; oversized ears that had yet to be grown into, a body she was yet to come into, girlish features knit into a frown and gaze glued to the ground whilst she tried and failed to cease the trembling of her bottom lip.
Feeling positively humiliated with herself through and through, tears that had finally ceased only moments ago threatened to well over once again at Oath's insistence for her full attention; and, as predicted, promptly followed in the shape of heavy, rolling droplets once the dove had belatedly raised her eyes to peer at the the older female from below soaked eyelashes. The expression of just... sheer, genuine concern and worry, — that she didn't deserve to have to endure! — was the very heart-wrenching look that Goose had been dreading to see. Knowing she'd single handedly caused it, between her careless antics and these silly reactions, when Oath hadn't even heard what had happened yet, sent Goose into another fit of shoulder heaving, bubbling hysterics, which of course the girl tried to speak through.
"I-I'm— I'm so— I'm so s-s-sorry— I don't k-know, I didn-didn't mean i-i-t— I don't k-know what hap-p-pened—! She managed to eventually choke out between hiccups and countless stuttered breaths, although unable to even remotely control the rising, trilling pitch that was climbing higher and higher as she frantically arose to all fours. "T-t-thi— t-this is a-all my f-f-fault! W-what, wh-what if he t-t-tries to k-kill us O-Oath— h-h-he thi-thinks we're p-part of D-Diaspora b-b-but we're not, he's g-going to see us, this is a-all my f-fault—!" Another choked noise, a hiccup, now frantically pacing in spot as she began to spiral and the hysteria bubbled up again, whatever it was she was trying to say just pouring out of her— "I— I— couldn't— I couldn't just l-leave her, Oath, w-what if she— what if she had gotten h-hurt she's a m-mother I c-c-could— could smell it off h-her I—I— I had to— to at least try, to t-try and help— and I— I m-mean I thin— think she's o-okay s-s-so I don't know— b-but her n-name was A-Aure and—"
And it was perhaps by a dumb stroke of luck that the dove abruptly cut herself off with a yelp from her quickly escalating rampage, conveniently (or maybe not so much) interrupted by a sharp pain that propelled itself up into her hip bone as she tried to once again pivot in spot. Oh right, her injury.
With her frantic mind beginning to gradually settle for the moment being, she could no longer ignore the heat of embarrassment which was already starting to prickle uncomfortably underneath her skin, feelings of regret, as always, making themselves at home. So there she remained, firmly planted, dreading the inevitable moment that she would be forced to explain herself. Already she was shrinking inwards at the shocking recollection of her entrance, which would also without a doubt be discussed; she had managed to scare the huntress half to death, gotten them both sticky with muddy lake water, and could have alerted any actual threats to their location to top it all off.
Oath soon peeled herself from the dove's needy grip — much to her chagrin — to smell the day's debacle off of her inspect her sorry form —which to no surprise, was sight for sore eyes indeed. Tear-matted fur tufted up in all directions alongside her cheeks and neck, exasperated further by the dove's earlier insistence of smushing her face into Oath in a pitiful attempt to hide. Her coat, not much better, stood windswept in all directions thanks to none other than her speed dash, all of which was now solidified wonderfully into place, all the way up her legs, stomach, and tail, at the fault of the lake mud she had barrelled through. Any other day this would have been the height of amusement between the two, but today, the tone was different. At this moment, she was so childlike as her youthfulness seeped glaringly through the cracks; oversized ears that had yet to be grown into, a body she was yet to come into, girlish features knit into a frown and gaze glued to the ground whilst she tried and failed to cease the trembling of her bottom lip.
Feeling positively humiliated with herself through and through, tears that had finally ceased only moments ago threatened to well over once again at Oath's insistence for her full attention; and, as predicted, promptly followed in the shape of heavy, rolling droplets once the dove had belatedly raised her eyes to peer at the the older female from below soaked eyelashes. The expression of just... sheer, genuine concern and worry, — that she didn't deserve to have to endure! — was the very heart-wrenching look that Goose had been dreading to see. Knowing she'd single handedly caused it, between her careless antics and these silly reactions, when Oath hadn't even heard what had happened yet, sent Goose into another fit of shoulder heaving, bubbling hysterics, which of course the girl tried to speak through.
"I-I'm— I'm so— I'm so s-s-sorry— I don't k-know, I didn-didn't mean i-i-t— I don't k-know what hap-p-pened—! She managed to eventually choke out between hiccups and countless stuttered breaths, although unable to even remotely control the rising, trilling pitch that was climbing higher and higher as she frantically arose to all fours. "T-t-thi— t-this is a-all my f-f-fault! W-what, wh-what if he t-t-tries to k-kill us O-Oath— h-h-he thi-thinks we're p-part of D-Diaspora b-b-but we're not, he's g-going to see us, this is a-all my f-fault—!" Another choked noise, a hiccup, now frantically pacing in spot as she began to spiral and the hysteria bubbled up again, whatever it was she was trying to say just pouring out of her— "I— I— couldn't— I couldn't just l-leave her, Oath, w-what if she— what if she had gotten h-hurt she's a m-mother I c-c-could— could smell it off h-her I—I— I had to— to at least try, to t-try and help— and I— I m-mean I thin— think she's o-okay s-s-so I don't know— b-but her n-name was A-Aure and—"
And it was perhaps by a dumb stroke of luck that the dove abruptly cut herself off with a yelp from her quickly escalating rampage, conveniently (or maybe not so much) interrupted by a sharp pain that propelled itself up into her hip bone as she tried to once again pivot in spot. Oh right, her injury.
☼ ☼ ☼
Goose looks at her and prompty bursts into further sobbing. There are words, there's something there but Oath's mind is reeling as she tries to make sense of the utter nonsense pouring from the doves mouth. Its all jibberish, broken up by the bubbling cries and stuttering. If only she would stop crying, maybe then Oath could understand - make sense of all the information being chucked at her. But Goose isn't making sense herself, that was the problem. 'Diaspora'? Was that some sort of place? It sounded like a goddamn gang name and when combined with the word 'kill'.. maybe thats exactly what it fucking was. Panic surges through Oath and she takes another steadying step back, her breathing erratic and eyes narrowed. What the hell was going on? What had happened? What. The. Fuck. Goose needed to calm the hell down and talk normally- but even as she thought it Oath knew it was unfair and she regretted it.
Goose's hysteria is giving her a pounding headache just behind her eyes and she can't process any of this fast enough for her to respond. She can't pull reassurance and confidence out of her ass when her world is suddenly turned topsy turvy and she's feeling neither. Instead, she's stuck with horror twisting her facial features - horror and the only other emotion she could currently conjure up which was white hot anger. Her protective urges surge and she doesn't bother hiding them this time, not when there was a legitmate danger that Goose herself had just confirmed. But what? What was it?
Gottamakesensegottamakesense- Wait. Wait wait wait. Was someone actually coming to kill them, then? That's what she'd just said. 'What if he tries to kill us'. Who? Who is he? Why would he try and kill them? Had the pale actually managed to outrun someone - or multiple someones? A gang of someones? Her firey gaze snaps up to the treeline once more, but the forest is still - dead silent. The birds had stopped calling and the waterfowl had long left the lake - startled away by this hiccup in their daily birdie lives. Goose's tears were all that remained. And they were heart wrenching, breaking Oath down bit by bit as she tried to channel the warring emotions within her. Anger, fear, concern and panic? Panic was a relatively new one. Panic didn't happen a lot. Panic means Oath was shaken and Oath didn't get shaken. Oath could face down two alphas without a lick of fear and shoot shit back at them like it was nothing, an everyday occurance. Like she was used to dangerous situations and coming out on top. Like that was normal.
Panicandconfusionpanicandconfusion- Why didn't this make sense? How could she make it make sense?
"I-" I need to calm the fuck down and think rationally.
Her mind is a broken record. Spinning and spinning and spinning.. Frustration claws at the russet and she looks away quickly, staring at the ground with clenched teeth as though she could truly replay everything the white had just said. Taking another heaving breath, Oath tried to sort the words Goose had actually said from her own wild assumptions. 'Diaspora'. That was a name and it sounded more 'packish' then 'placeish' but it could have been either. No assuming, not yet. 'Kill'. Who was killing? Was 'he' killing them? Someone else? Goose was obviously worried 'he' was going to kill them. He. Okayokayokay. Who was he? Was he part of 'Diaspora', if Diaspora was truly a 'pack'? That made the most sense. But wait, she'd said he thought they were part of Diaspora. Diaspora was a pack, then? Okay, that was something. So, what, some dude wants to kill them because they might belong to 'Diaspora'? This did sound like a fucking gang war. Ok. Onto the next. Help? Who was she helping? Why? Goose had gone to gather herbs not get caught up in some fucking wolfy gang war or whatever the hell this conflict was. Someone now, possibly, wanted to kill them all because Goose tried to help? Wonderful.
"I couldn't just l-leave her-"
"What if she had gotten h-hurt-"
"I-I had to— to at least try, to t-try and help—"
Her. Goose had spoken a name; one Oath's brain hadn't truly registered it until that very moment. Aure. Aure is a feminine kind of name. Confirmed with Goose's statement that Aure is a mother. Aure needed help. So what, this 'he' was beating up mothers and whelps? Members of this Diaspora? And Goose had walked in on this? So, now, this 'he' was coming after them because they were supposedly part of whatever the hell Diaspora was? What the everloving hell had she gotten into-
Goose. Sweet, sensitive, timid, not-an-ounce-of-fight-in-her Goose- Goose who cared too much, Goose who likely had the self-preservation sense of a slug when it came to whelps and their dams- It couldn't be helped. She'd helped the bitches her pack birth and she'd cared for their pups alongside them, despite the abuse they'd fucking put her through. Goose had always been too generous, too forgiving, too loving.. So, okay, whatever this was must have hit home and hit home hard. Especially if a mother and her pups had been put at risk and needed help-
Oh. Oh no.
Nonononono.
Goose had tried to help.
Goose. Had. Tried. To. Help.
NO!
And then Goose's face twists into something the russet knew all too well.
Oath's brain short circuits.
"What did you do, Goose?" Its an accusatory whisper, molten eyes searching her face. "You did not get involved."
Goose's hysteria is giving her a pounding headache just behind her eyes and she can't process any of this fast enough for her to respond. She can't pull reassurance and confidence out of her ass when her world is suddenly turned topsy turvy and she's feeling neither. Instead, she's stuck with horror twisting her facial features - horror and the only other emotion she could currently conjure up which was white hot anger. Her protective urges surge and she doesn't bother hiding them this time, not when there was a legitmate danger that Goose herself had just confirmed. But what? What was it?
Gottamakesensegottamakesense- Wait. Wait wait wait. Was someone actually coming to kill them, then? That's what she'd just said. 'What if he tries to kill us'. Who? Who is he? Why would he try and kill them? Had the pale actually managed to outrun someone - or multiple someones? A gang of someones? Her firey gaze snaps up to the treeline once more, but the forest is still - dead silent. The birds had stopped calling and the waterfowl had long left the lake - startled away by this hiccup in their daily birdie lives. Goose's tears were all that remained. And they were heart wrenching, breaking Oath down bit by bit as she tried to channel the warring emotions within her. Anger, fear, concern and panic? Panic was a relatively new one. Panic didn't happen a lot. Panic means Oath was shaken and Oath didn't get shaken. Oath could face down two alphas without a lick of fear and shoot shit back at them like it was nothing, an everyday occurance. Like she was used to dangerous situations and coming out on top. Like that was normal.
Panicandconfusionpanicandconfusion- Why didn't this make sense? How could she make it make sense?
"I-" I need to calm the fuck down and think rationally.
Her mind is a broken record. Spinning and spinning and spinning.. Frustration claws at the russet and she looks away quickly, staring at the ground with clenched teeth as though she could truly replay everything the white had just said. Taking another heaving breath, Oath tried to sort the words Goose had actually said from her own wild assumptions. 'Diaspora'. That was a name and it sounded more 'packish' then 'placeish' but it could have been either. No assuming, not yet. 'Kill'. Who was killing? Was 'he' killing them? Someone else? Goose was obviously worried 'he' was going to kill them. He. Okayokayokay. Who was he? Was he part of 'Diaspora', if Diaspora was truly a 'pack'? That made the most sense. But wait, she'd said he thought they were part of Diaspora. Diaspora was a pack, then? Okay, that was something. So, what, some dude wants to kill them because they might belong to 'Diaspora'? This did sound like a fucking gang war. Ok. Onto the next. Help? Who was she helping? Why? Goose had gone to gather herbs not get caught up in some fucking wolfy gang war or whatever the hell this conflict was. Someone now, possibly, wanted to kill them all because Goose tried to help? Wonderful.
"I couldn't just l-leave her-"
"What if she had gotten h-hurt-"
"I-I had to— to at least try, to t-try and help—"
Her. Goose had spoken a name; one Oath's brain hadn't truly registered it until that very moment. Aure. Aure is a feminine kind of name. Confirmed with Goose's statement that Aure is a mother. Aure needed help. So what, this 'he' was beating up mothers and whelps? Members of this Diaspora? And Goose had walked in on this? So, now, this 'he' was coming after them because they were supposedly part of whatever the hell Diaspora was? What the everloving hell had she gotten into-
Goose. Sweet, sensitive, timid, not-an-ounce-of-fight-in-her Goose- Goose who cared too much, Goose who likely had the self-preservation sense of a slug when it came to whelps and their dams- It couldn't be helped. She'd helped the bitches her pack birth and she'd cared for their pups alongside them, despite the abuse they'd fucking put her through. Goose had always been too generous, too forgiving, too loving.. So, okay, whatever this was must have hit home and hit home hard. Especially if a mother and her pups had been put at risk and needed help-
Oh. Oh no.
Nonononono.
Goose had tried to help.
Goose. Had. Tried. To. Help.
NO!
And then Goose's face twists into something the russet knew all too well.
Oath's brain short circuits.
"What did you do, Goose?" Its an accusatory whisper, molten eyes searching her face. "You did not get involved."
ahahaha lets pretend this doesn't exist ok
i didn't proof read this
fuck it
yolo
i didn't proof read this
fuck it
yolo
☼ ☼ ☼
The whisper cut through her like a hot knife; the quietest words always had the made the biggest impart, hit like a freight train, and Oath's accusatory utterances were no exception. The dove's breath hitched in her throat and she froze, no longer able to cry in all her dread, watching the recognition of what she had said come to fruition on the russet's face. You did not get involved. Feathered ears flattened at the statement — one to which they both clearly knew the answer, but one that neither wanted to confirm — and kneaded at the ground nervously.
Where to begin? Now that all her bottled emotions had been purged from within her, too fast and too intensely and all at once, she felt... fine. Calm. Clearheaded. But Goose had failed to consider the aftermath of what this outburst could cause — it was hardly as bad as the performance may have portrayed, how was she supposed to reassure Oath that everything, in fact, is actually okay? She had caused this, and now she was going to try go on the defensive and try to dig herself out of it? Okay, so I know it looked like I was on the brink of death and that the world was falling apart, but actually, it's fine now I reflect. That would never go down well.
She felt absolutely horrible. She regretted the way she had gone about intervening in the cave when she had tried to play hero. She regretted not realising these unchecked feelings were going to soon boil over, and she regretted the way that they did and how she had reacted. She regretted the performance she had put on with her crying and bubbling, and making Oath concerned, then panicked, and now mad. She already regretted the fight that no doubt was about too ensue. But the one thing, that she absolutely did not regret, was helping that mother and making sure she was okay. If she had just left her behind, saved her own hide, the regret from that one decision would've been something she'd never get over — that regret would have been ten times worse than her feelings now.
Tears in the past, all that was left behind was a puffy face and hitching breaths and stutters, which were evident when she began to speak. "I h-had to get involved Oath, there's absolutely n-n-no way I would just abandon h-her—" Pleading eyes searched the face before her. "I w-went to— I went to this lair b-by the mountain s-side for herbs and t-they were in there f-f-fighting— it j-just happened so quickly— you know I c-c-can't leave the i-injured behind, b-but I just- I j-just—" She faltered, searching into the distance behind the russet, as if the answer was stuck there. Conflict tore through the pale at her own words, knowing fine well that, whilst she thought what she had done was right, it was also incredibly foolish.
She rose to all fours once again, brow knitted together as looked solidly at Oath and gave a firm nod. "I had to do it... I don't regret it. I couldn't, even if I tried." Her features softened as she dropped her head, voice wobbly as it lowered to a whisper. "I would do it again."
An exasperated sigh escaped from between parted lips as she lifted a paw to swipe at her tear-soaked cheek. Her biggest concern, her biggest fear, right now was her friend's reaction. It was all that was important.
Where to begin? Now that all her bottled emotions had been purged from within her, too fast and too intensely and all at once, she felt... fine. Calm. Clearheaded. But Goose had failed to consider the aftermath of what this outburst could cause — it was hardly as bad as the performance may have portrayed, how was she supposed to reassure Oath that everything, in fact, is actually okay? She had caused this, and now she was going to try go on the defensive and try to dig herself out of it? Okay, so I know it looked like I was on the brink of death and that the world was falling apart, but actually, it's fine now I reflect. That would never go down well.
She felt absolutely horrible. She regretted the way she had gone about intervening in the cave when she had tried to play hero. She regretted not realising these unchecked feelings were going to soon boil over, and she regretted the way that they did and how she had reacted. She regretted the performance she had put on with her crying and bubbling, and making Oath concerned, then panicked, and now mad. She already regretted the fight that no doubt was about too ensue. But the one thing, that she absolutely did not regret, was helping that mother and making sure she was okay. If she had just left her behind, saved her own hide, the regret from that one decision would've been something she'd never get over — that regret would have been ten times worse than her feelings now.
Tears in the past, all that was left behind was a puffy face and hitching breaths and stutters, which were evident when she began to speak. "I h-had to get involved Oath, there's absolutely n-n-no way I would just abandon h-her—" Pleading eyes searched the face before her. "I w-went to— I went to this lair b-by the mountain s-side for herbs and t-they were in there f-f-fighting— it j-just happened so quickly— you know I c-c-can't leave the i-injured behind, b-but I just- I j-just—" She faltered, searching into the distance behind the russet, as if the answer was stuck there. Conflict tore through the pale at her own words, knowing fine well that, whilst she thought what she had done was right, it was also incredibly foolish.
She rose to all fours once again, brow knitted together as looked solidly at Oath and gave a firm nod. "I had to do it... I don't regret it. I couldn't, even if I tried." Her features softened as she dropped her head, voice wobbly as it lowered to a whisper. "I would do it again."
An exasperated sigh escaped from between parted lips as she lifted a paw to swipe at her tear-soaked cheek. Her biggest concern, her biggest fear, right now was her friend's reaction. It was all that was important.
☼ ☼ ☼
"I would do it again."
The Firebrand feels the words like a blow to the chest, her brows sloped in a devastating line. Her mind is reeling; spining, spinning, spinning - but not fast enough. She can't keep up with the chaos in her mind, everything is twisted and warring and she's so confused and she's angry... But mostly it just hurts - she feels crippled. Oath can feel her heart constricting in her chest, knows whats currently written all over her face but she doesn't care. The world has been pulled out from under her and she's feeling like she's falling, plumeting back to the earth. She wants to shatter. She wants to hit the ground as hard as she fucking can and wake up from this goddamn nightmare.
Golden orbs clench and Oath drops her chin to her chest praying, begging, that when she opens them again this will all be gone. It'll be over. It will never had happened. That Goose was lying. That she wouldn't have done it again. That she did regret it. That she was sorry. Orbs slide open, moving to frantically search Goose's face for everything that she wants to find. Anything she can latch onto - to squeeze. But there is nothing but honesty reflected in those dark eyes.
Oath's face is the fall of an empire. Caustic vulnerability.
"You're so selfish."
There is a shift and, suddenly, this is not the same Oath from moments ago. This is not the wolf who loved stubbornly and defined undying loyatly. This was the wolf that flashed her teeth because she was the predator and never the prey. This is the hellishly intimidating, off-limits, 'eat your heart out' Oath. This is the shit-eating grins and the mocking eyes, the hard faces and tight planes. Calculating. This was the Oath the rest of the world saw on even her good days; this was angry and cold. It was emotional self-preservation to the highest degree.
"So, what, then. Was she dying? Or crying out for help? Was this mother fully capable of defending herself? Did you just fucking react or did you take the time to actually look at what was happening, to stop and see the big picture? Did you bother to see who was actually winning? Because I'd put my money on the bitch." Oath snarls, stepping away from the taller female but raising to her full hight simultaneously. "I've seen plenty of denmothers in my life, Goose, and I've not seen one of them lose a fight. Even just after their whelping. You know how dangerous new mothers are - their hormones are way outta whack and they're not rational."
Her laugh is cold and bitter. "What did you think you could do to help? You can't fight. You clearly just stuffed yourself right in the middle of whatever the hell was going on and took a few hits in the process. How, exactly, does that help anyone?" Eyes close, a slow breath, sneer still in place. "You're willing to die for some bitch you don't even know? Mother or not, she's a fucking stranger. She could have started it for all you know. You went in blind and you went in stupid."
Oath rounds on Goose again, shoving her nose right into the doves face. "You don't regret it." The russet hisses. "You're not a fucking hero and this story doesn't have a happy ending. This world is cold and hard and cruel and you could fucking die if you set a paw wrong. But, yet, here you are. Throwing yourself headlong into other peoples fucking problems like your goddamn life doesn't mATTER! DID YOU EVEN BOTHER TO STOP AND THINK ABOUT ME? What this would do to ME? To US? What if they decide to hunt you down! You've endangered both of us with your foolish posturing! What if they had killed you, Goose! What if they will?"
You'd be leaving me behind. You left me behind.
"I love you, and you're okay with getting ripped apart because you have a bleeding heart. Cool. Good to know." The next laugh is hollow. "I can't believe this. I can't even look at you right now."
The Firebrand feels the words like a blow to the chest, her brows sloped in a devastating line. Her mind is reeling; spining, spinning, spinning - but not fast enough. She can't keep up with the chaos in her mind, everything is twisted and warring and she's so confused and she's angry... But mostly it just hurts - she feels crippled. Oath can feel her heart constricting in her chest, knows whats currently written all over her face but she doesn't care. The world has been pulled out from under her and she's feeling like she's falling, plumeting back to the earth. She wants to shatter. She wants to hit the ground as hard as she fucking can and wake up from this goddamn nightmare.
Golden orbs clench and Oath drops her chin to her chest praying, begging, that when she opens them again this will all be gone. It'll be over. It will never had happened. That Goose was lying. That she wouldn't have done it again. That she did regret it. That she was sorry. Orbs slide open, moving to frantically search Goose's face for everything that she wants to find. Anything she can latch onto - to squeeze. But there is nothing but honesty reflected in those dark eyes.
Oath's face is the fall of an empire. Caustic vulnerability.
"You're so selfish."
There is a shift and, suddenly, this is not the same Oath from moments ago. This is not the wolf who loved stubbornly and defined undying loyatly. This was the wolf that flashed her teeth because she was the predator and never the prey. This is the hellishly intimidating, off-limits, 'eat your heart out' Oath. This is the shit-eating grins and the mocking eyes, the hard faces and tight planes. Calculating. This was the Oath the rest of the world saw on even her good days; this was angry and cold. It was emotional self-preservation to the highest degree.
"So, what, then. Was she dying? Or crying out for help? Was this mother fully capable of defending herself? Did you just fucking react or did you take the time to actually look at what was happening, to stop and see the big picture? Did you bother to see who was actually winning? Because I'd put my money on the bitch." Oath snarls, stepping away from the taller female but raising to her full hight simultaneously. "I've seen plenty of denmothers in my life, Goose, and I've not seen one of them lose a fight. Even just after their whelping. You know how dangerous new mothers are - their hormones are way outta whack and they're not rational."
Her laugh is cold and bitter. "What did you think you could do to help? You can't fight. You clearly just stuffed yourself right in the middle of whatever the hell was going on and took a few hits in the process. How, exactly, does that help anyone?" Eyes close, a slow breath, sneer still in place. "You're willing to die for some bitch you don't even know? Mother or not, she's a fucking stranger. She could have started it for all you know. You went in blind and you went in stupid."
Oath rounds on Goose again, shoving her nose right into the doves face. "You don't regret it." The russet hisses. "You're not a fucking hero and this story doesn't have a happy ending. This world is cold and hard and cruel and you could fucking die if you set a paw wrong. But, yet, here you are. Throwing yourself headlong into other peoples fucking problems like your goddamn life doesn't mATTER! DID YOU EVEN BOTHER TO STOP AND THINK ABOUT ME? What this would do to ME? To US? What if they decide to hunt you down! You've endangered both of us with your foolish posturing! What if they had killed you, Goose! What if they will?"
You'd be leaving me behind. You left me behind.
"I love you, and you're okay with getting ripped apart because you have a bleeding heart. Cool. Good to know." The next laugh is hollow. "I can't believe this. I can't even look at you right now."
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