Panther Park If I made it too hard for you, maybe you should've changed it

@Aningan

She had done better lately. She hadn't left the hollow in weeks, but no matter how hard she tried to ignore the way she felt there, today had just been too much. She needed a break again and had been unable to resist the urge to wander. Before she realized what she was doing, she found herself heading in a familiar direction to a familiar forest. Just to make sure. 

She was unsure how many times she had been here searching for signs of her missing children. So often that she had her own route through the dense trees. The scent of prey had shifted some here. Something she hadn't scented in a long time filled her nose, and she stopped to inspect the familiar droppings on the forest floor. Deer. She almost couldn't believe her nose, and if she hadn't had the proof right at her paws, then she might have put it off as wishful thinking. But just as strongly came the scent of cat. That had always been a staple scent here, which was why she continued to risk searching the area. If her kids made their way here, they would be easy prey, and she might be able to save them from a terrible death. 

She lifted her head and scanned the trees. She always felt like she was being watched here, and she had never been able to figure out if it was just her survival instincts or if she was actually being stalked. Shaking out her thick coat, she began to move again, lowering her nose occasionally to search for more signs of where these deer might have gone.

For the first time since their relocation, Aningan ventured beyond the plateau and then beyond those lands that bordered it, trekking further than ever before. He told @Rosalyn before leaving, proclaiming that he was finally ready to see what it was like to be a scout. Each step made him more nervous than the last, worried that by leaving he might never find his way home again—so, to counter this, he followed the curvature of the range at his side, using the mountains as his guide; those peaks would lead him home again, too, he was certain. Trusting in them eased his mind, dulling the anxiety that twisted and turned within his chest.

Anxiety that bubbled over as he entered unfamiliar lands, festering with scents he did not recognise—but that instinct drove him to fear. Rigid, Aningan pressed onward, doing what he could to push through his worries. But his worries could not be banished, only covered, shrouded under a thin veil by the sight of another, lupine physique in the distance.

Clinging desperately to his curiosity, hoping that it would further relax him, the male trailed after the other. Only when he was near enough to be heard did he loose a bark or two, seeking a conversation—information, perhaps, on the land they both found themselves in.

The bark made her freeze and turn. And what she saw made her heart stop. For a split second, she thought the stranger standing in the distance was her daughter. But immediately she knew she was wrong. His build was too masculine, his eyes the wrong shade of orange. Wariness instantly replaced her shattered hope and she moved forward a few steps, confidently meeting his gaze if there eyes were to lock. He looked like he could be from her home up north, which was intriguing, but she would not let that distract her. What if he had been the one watching her. 

She studied him shrewdly. Why are you here? she asked bluntly. Her gaze remained on his face as she waited for an answer, glued to his expression to search for any signs that what he said did not match his actual intentions. He could just be passing through like she was, searching for something lost or something to take his mind off of whatever troubled his life. But she had no way of knowing that yet, so she remained guarded, even if she was interested to know more about this northern-looking stranger.

When the female turned to face him, Aningan slowed to an eventual stop. Something about her seemed familiar and he wondered if they met before but, as she spoke, he decided that wasn’t the case; she did not seem to share the same feeling or, if she did, it wasn’t betrayed in either her words or posture. She was rather blunt with her questioning instead, which unsettled him. Was he wrong to be there? The scents that filled the land did not remind him of those coating the plateau, so he doubted it was claimed—but if not claimed, then why was this woman so brash?

“Ingiggak—” he answered first, rushed. “No, uh… I’m scouting.” He corrected no longer than a second later, finding his bearings. “Why are you here?” Was she there for the same reasons?

She hadn't needed more than that rushed fragment of a word to pick up on her native language; she would recognize it anywhere. Her expression flickered with surprise before she was able to control herself. He seemed maybe a little shaken, and she wondered if it was because of her abrupt greeting or because of some other danger lurking in the trees. Some of the tension did leave her muscles, though. It seemed he was just a wanderer like herself. Although she hadn't really explored for the sake of exploring in so long. Now she only traveled in search of her missing sons and daughter. She took another step forward. I am looking for my missing children, she answered first. But because she couldn't help herself, she quickly added: You speak the northern language? It seemed that lately, the only ones she spoke to in her language were her family; it had been a long time since a stranger had spoken it.

A step was taken towards him, making his body go rigid—but as she continued to speak, he slowly started to relax. Whilst he was there for the sake of travel alone, she was there for a reason; her children were missing and she wished to find them, and he wondered if that may have been the reason for her former bluntness. “I haven’t seen any children,” he told her, despite not being asked. Where or who they may be, he didn’t know and doubted he could be of any help.

Thankfully for him, the topic shifted, and it was his turn to be surprised. “You know it?” he asked, instantly curious. “It’s my family’s language. I’m from the north—more north than here, I mean.” Although he wasn’t from the true north like the uppik, he was still from a place further than where he currently resided. “Are you from the north, too?” To meet another of his people was an exciting thing, and he was eager to find out more.

Although she hadn't come out and asked if he had seen them, the implication was there. And his answer was the same as she always got—he hadn't seen any children. Of course, they were older now, not quite adults but not children anymore either. 

She was going to offer more information about them, just in case he ever came across them, but then he was telling her of his family up north, asking her if she was from the north. She would have thought that much was obvious, but then again, she hadn't just naturally assumed that of him either, and he looked and sounded like he could have just been plucked straight from her family pack and placed here. Yes, I know it. I've spoken it my whole life. I am from the Aningan Tundra. My father was the leader of the pack and that is where I grew up, she explained. the mention of her father had no effect on her anymore. He was insignificant to her now, and she had far more important things to worry about than how shitty of a father he had been. Where in the north are you from? she asked. Maybe she knew of it. The chances were slim, of course, but it was worth the ask. It wasn't often she found other northerners, and she was eager to learn more about this stranger.

The recognition of the language meaning she understood it was confirmed—she, too, was of northern blood. And while he didn’t understand the significance of the name she gave, he did pick up on a single part of it—“Aningan Tundra?” he questioned first, wishing to be assured that he heard correctly. “My name’s Aningan.” He wondered if the name was common up north, to be given both to him and to a pack. This he did not ask, however, feeling that it lacked any true significance. Besides, she had another question, one that he was a bit more hesitant to answer.

“I’m from a glacier,” he said first, after which his brows furrowed. What was the name again? “IkKasuk?” he said, uncertain; he could remember the meaning but the name itself escaped him at first. “No, maybe not that… um... IkKanattuk?” That sounded more like it. “I think they called it IkKanattuk.” He used to think the name to be ironic, given that he’d always felt the opposite there.

My name's Aningan. Her mind and her body were frozen in place. It couldn't be. How could she have just stumbled upon him here in this forest that she had grown to hate simply because it was just one more place she associated with her terrible loss. But who else would bear that name? Surely no one else could without being related to her and her family. She was at a loss for words.

And then he mentioned the glacier, and it was like someone kicked her in the stomach. She stared at him blankly as he tried and failed to say Ikkanattuk. But he finally arrived there. How long had it been since she'd heard that name uttered out loud? She certainly didn't dare speak it anymore; it only held pain for her. Pain and failure. But she pulled her mind from all of that bullshit because this confirmed who she thought he was. Ikkanattuk. Yes that is what we called it. She paused and swallowed. I am your aunt, Takiyok.

italics = inuttut. too much to translate lmao

All it took were a few words to be spoken and the boy’s blood ran cold. His legs locked and he felt his body grow rigid, brows pinching together as he was overtaken by an array of emotions. He didn’t even recognise her, the time since passed having eaten away at his memories; he was so young when he left, he was so young when he last saw her. Without realising it, he took a step back, body acting on its own accord. Why was she there? So close to his home? “What are you doing here?” he asked, easily slipping from the common tongue. “Why aren’t you up north, with everyone else?” Why did she have to show up so suddenly?

“I’m not going back,” he declared suddenly, shaking his head. “You guys didn’t want me but my new pack—my new family—does.” Should he run? Prevent her from trying to lure him away? His legs refused to move, remaining just as stiff and rigid as the rest of him. Was she the reason his sister disappeared, so long ago? Had she taken her away?

She was confused. Up north? What are you talking about? she said immediately, completely taken aback by his reaction. I was at the glacier until a storm ripped it and our family away from me. I searched for you and found you on the coast with Rusalka. The leader refused to let me see you, she explained. Of course that bitch had soured her own family against her. Her hate for the woman intensified. 

I'm not going to make you do anything, Aningan she said, a little offended. He was an adult and could make his own damn decisions. I help lead a pack in the hollow called Diaspora, and I'm here because I'm looking for my missing children, like I said before. She stared at him, exasperated and furious. Why was he treating her like the enemy here? She had never done anything except try to keep her family and her pack together, and it had blown up in her face. But that seemed to be the fucking story of her life. And that is a complete lie, she added, quietly. I wanted you—I wanted all of you, but I could never find any of you. 

The male was taken aback, brows pinching together and gaze drifting past her. “The glacier is gone…?” He couldn’t believe it—were the storms inland just as bad as they were on the coast? She spoke of Rusalka, of having gone to the coast in search of him, only to be turned away. “What leader?” he asked, eyes focusing back on her. “Who didn’t let you?” He had a feeling he knew who it was—the only one that would have, to keep her children safe. But he didn’t want to believe it. It was easier to believe that Takiyok never sought him out, that she never tried to see him.

“Where’s everyone else? Why aren’t you with them?” More questions—each with an answer that he wondered to himself if he even wanted to know. “And what children? You didn’t have children before.” The only ones there were him, Tunerk, and Sos. “Do you know where Tunerk is? And Sos? If you’re here… they should be here, too, right?” Suspicion became desperation—he wanted his siblings back. He missed Tunerk so much and he couldn’t even remember when he last saw Sos. Would he recognise him, if he saw him?

She said she wanted him—and he felt his eyes began to sting. “No one there wanted me there,” he repeated, trying more so to convince himself than her. “Did my mom even look for me? Why didn’t you make them let you into Rusalka?” It was unrealistic to think that she could have but he needed a reason to be upset. He needed a reason to assure himself that he was right, that he left for the right reasons.

Well, buried, she clarified. It was a blizzard. I lost everyone, she added solemnly. But his question made rage churn inside her. It overpowered her sadness and made her lip curl. I don't know her name. Blackhead is what I've heard her referred to by others. Now he had spent his whole life thinking they didn't want him. 

He fired off a lot of questions. So many that it took her a second to process everything. The only two I have been able to find since the storm are Sia and Tahani, she answered first. Sia lives with a pack called Easthollow in the valley southeast of these mountains, she explained. And Tahani—she was sick and passed away not very long ago. She is buried in Arrow Lake on the eastern side of the mountains. In case he wanted to visit there. I had children last spring. I met their father while leading the glacier and went to help him found Diaspora after the storm. One of them still lives with me in Diaspora. My son and your cousin. His name is Sivulik but he also goes by Stag. She could hear the desperation in his voice as he asked about his brother and sister. I'm sorry, Aningan; I don't know where they are. She wished she could tell him something different, but she hadn't seen them since the glacier either. 

That isn't true. I'm sorry if you felt that way, really. Why would she have searched for him and vowed to murder in his name if she didn't want him? And I haven't seen Shivali since the storm either. I can only assume she didn't make it. I'm sorry. His next question had her anger rising again. I was by myself. I couldn't fight her because that would mean fighting the entire pack. And then I had children, and I couldn't just go throwing myself into danger, not without the backing of a pack, and with the earthquakes and famine, there was no way I could take my pack into a war. They all sounded like excuses, like reasons she used to justify why she had eventually abandoned him to Rusalka. I'm sorry, Aningan. 

Blackhead. Even without a name given, he knew who she referred to—Caiaphas. The one that found him, the one that welcomed him to the coast—the one that provided him with a new family, although that family no longer included her. How she spoke of her, the expression she took on, made his own harden; he cared for Caiaphas, even to this day, despite everything that transpired. That noted anger kept his mouth shut, her name being left a mystery to his aunt—he would not be another to betray her.

When she continued, she spoke of more relatives; his memories of them were dim, faces faded, but names known. Another name, too, was known—“Easthollow?” he questioned, seeking clarification. “I was told by… family… that my dad is there, too. Did you know?” Did that mean, should he ever seek the elder man out, he would run into Sia, too? He knew even less about his uncle than he did his aunt—would he recognise him? Part of him hoped he wouldn’t, whilst another felt… confused. But those were the only two remaining, the news of Tahani’s passing shared. And although he knew he should feel something for her, after hearing about that—she was family, there was shared blood between them—he couldn’t. There was nothing to be felt, no sensation of loss or remorse, not an ounce of grief. For Aningan, it was the same as if a stranger passed because, at the end of the day, that is all any of them were to him now.

Children were mentioned, cousins he would never meet; only one was given a name, the rest seemingly either dead or gone. But his interest in them simply wasn’t there, unable to form, overpowered by the need to know of his siblings. What became of them? Were they well? So many questions, a budding hope—squandered by her words. “So Tunerk and Sos are… gone?” he asked, albeit rhetorically. “If you don’t know where they are… they aren’t with you, then—” Tunerk was on the coast with him before, then vanished into the night. He hoped she was safe, that no ill fate befell her, but he worried most for Sos. Did his brother make it off of the glacier? Would he see either of them again? Suddenly, he was wishing it was one of them standing before him now, rather than Takiyok.

An apology for his feelings—but were those feelings less so that and more fact, than anything? Aningan could see it no other way, his belief from the moment he left the glacier up until now is that he was unwanted; something thought for so long and the feelings that stemmed from it could not be abandoned at the drop of a pin. That hurt he carried with him, covered by the safety felt through Rusalka, came rising to the surface at the mention of his mother; the root of it all, her favourtism noticed early-on. “You don’t have to say sorry,” he stated, voice strained and eyes searching—searching for anything to settle on that wasn’t her. “She was Tunerk and Sos’ mom, not mine.” Saying it aloud, hearing his own voice mutter such words, hurt; the ache was fought away, his determination to ignore it overwhelming. The bear could feel himself fading, attention seeking anything and everything else that it could find, anything to remove himself from the conversation.

“You don’t have to apologise,” he repeated, words forced. “Maybe it’s better you didn’t go against her. Maybe it’s better I stayed with Rusalka.” He loved them, after all. Whilst he might not always agree with the pack as a whole, he could see himself nowhere else. “Rusalka is my family. Everyone there… they are my family. They care for me and I care for them.” They were his family, his pack. He promised to stay with them, to protect them and care for them. “I’m happy with them.”

very sorry for the wait

Unfortunately, Taki knew very little about Aningan's father. She hadn't spent much time at the forest when her family was a part of Blackfeather. Most of her time had been spent scouting for their new home, recruiting members, and searching for her brother. Even then, she had been searching for a lost loved one. She wondered if she would spend her entire life doing that. I'm sorry, I don't know if he's there, she answered. Sia did not mention him. She wished she had more information for him.

She watched him process her grim news. She had no idea what happened to his brother and sister. By now, she assumed that anyone she had not seen since the blizzard was dead. It seemed he was coming to that conclusion as well. I'm sorry, was all she offered; it was all she could offer. She had lived with the grief for a long time, but she knew it must be crushing for him to hear that his family was potentially dead. 

All he kept saying was that she didn't need to apologize, and it was clear that her family did not feel as such to him. She was truly sorry for that, but she knew there was nothing she could do or say now, not to make up for the past anyway. But she could change things for the future maybe. I know I failed you, Aningan, she finally said. If you wish it, maybe we can work on being friends and allies? she offered. She knew she couldn't force him to view her as his family, but maybe she could still be in his life.