Hushed Willows this common blood ii

Valiant was an ice-white and jagged wraithe on the plains, and then the marsh, and then streaking past the borders and through the willows toward the hidden reaches of the territory. The whelping dens were his destination, even though he was not sure why he ought to go there. Perhaps he thought that, if he could go back to the place where he'd been born, he might be able to stop himself from ever coming to be. He might be able to crawl back into his dead mother and rot there, or perhaps the faerie magic that now lived in the woods would take him up, twist him into something else.

The yearling collapsed long before he got there, gasping for breath through his labored cries of anguish. How many times had he thought, Maybe this would be easier if he were just dead. And now he was, and there was nothing to be done. How many times had he thought, I'll live my own life for now, and I'll look for him a little later. How many times had he passed by the opportunity to cross paths with the man again, even if just for one more time? For a few minutes?

Now he would never know what would have been.

And he was alone.

An orphan.

Unloved.

going to say this is before cougar attack!

"Who, are you?" Orlaith had been going for her rounds, when she had caught the scent of someone unusual, definitely not one she had met previously. She of course, tracked him before coming across Valiant, who seemed nearly dead on the floor, with a bit of crying. She held back a snarl, but still was displeased overall.

She held high while looking down the other with a narrowed look, more of annoyance then of friendliness as she waited with an answer. It seemed to start getting too common for wolves to simply show up, without proper introductions. The guard, was not pleased.

The roar of hurt had quieted in the storm-cloaked boy only barely by the time Orlaith arrived; he did not know how to sooth himself, but he was too tired to carry on in active mourning, at least for the moment. He was still shuddering slightly, whimpers slipping through jaws too weary to part. He had been fit and hale a day ago, but seeing his father's body so very absent of his father had sapped all strength and life from his bones.

He did not stir as a stranger approached, and demanded to know who he was. Did he even deserve his name anymore? The one he shared with Dauntless and Brave seemed too large for him now, and the surname of Morningside something he had cast off and betrayed.

"Valiant Morningside," he said in spite of all this, because he had spent enough time forsaking his father already. "Lumiya said I could come back."

Her ear flickered in annoyance, with yet another arrival that she did not know of. Orlaith understood that technically, Lumiya had no obligation to tell her who would enter, but she also felt as one of the guards, it was a duty to know who would enter and go. She nearly attacked many who were new and wishing to be of the fae-folk.

Except this one seemed very dead then of the lively one's that seem to enter, "What's with you?"

The queen fae had merely been walking the borders, marking them heavily due to the situation they found themselves in. Despite this, she had never forgotten about Valiant and his promise to return someday, not that he had to. If he'd liked to stay with his family, she wouldn't blame him; if she knew the true love of blood family, she was sure she'd do the same. Luckily the girl was free of such attachment and had instead created her own place to call home.

When she got near to where Valiant and Orlaith stood, it was the whimpering and sobbing that got her attention. Her heart broke already for whoever it was, and she rushed to the scene - worried upon seeing it was Valiant, collapsed between the willows. Barely registering Orlaith's presence, she hurried to the male's side and asked in a hushed tone; My goodness, what has happened? Are you alright? Her first assumption was that he was hurt, so she looked him over silently - but there was no injury to spot, at least, not on the outside.

The guardian's brusque manner might have been appreciated at other times, under different woes, but right then, it only served to cement what he'd already been thinking:

Nobody cared about him anyone. Nobody.

And, althought Lumiya's inherent sweetness had served to make him uncomfortable the first time he'd met her, her concerned voice was a balm on his bleeding soul, today. He looked up at her with a helpless expression on his face and said, "My dad. He — he's..."

But he couldn't finish the thought. He choked on another sob and shook his head, his mind beginning to short-circuit as he tried to make sense of his grief, and of what he'd seen on the plains, and of Steph's sudden reappearance and talk of burying his father — burying him in Easthollow, where he'd been born, but where Valiant felt very little connection.

"I don't know what to do," he whimpered, feeling very young and pitiable.

She sniffed. Lumiya came crashing from no where and was quick to come to his side, like a mother to a child. She wasn't as nice, and didn't feel that same tenderness that the Queen felt for the man. He was on the ground whimpering about his father, which only caused Orlaith to raise a brow in inquiry.

"Move on?" She said, giving an innocent answer despite how cruel it was. It was what she had done to her own family, they may not be dead, but for her she felt they were dead. Abandoned their daughter and let her be thrown out, Orlaith has no family.

Her ashen ears cupped in concern, intricate designed face now full of worry. He had mentioned visiting his family, she could only assume it was there that he had learned the news of his father... Though she could not relate to his sadness of losing a father, seeing as she had wanted nothing more than for her own to disappear into the nothingness, she did understand. Losing a loved one, be it family, spouse, child... It was never easy, and like all wounds, it needed the time and nurture to heal.

Orlaith! She near-hissed, baffled by her insensitive nature. This was the difference between a wind and fire fae, apparently - though Orla had proven to be a particularly difficult one for the little Lumi to understand. Yes, eventually the goal was to move on and grow from loss, but it would probably be the furthest thing from Valiant's mind at that moment. She turned to him again.

I'm so sorry for your loss, Valiant. She started, truly finding it awful to hear - to see what the knowledge had done to him. He hadn't been one to shine in the first place. She'd thought that, maybe, the visit to his family would've brightened him up a bit, maybe even so far that he didn't need the court or her anymore. It had done the opposite. Come, let's get you rested and freshened up - would you like anything to eat, some company? She offered, hoping to settle him down before talking about anything that might be difficult for him to share.

Although Orlaith's answer was cruel, it was the first thing that seemed to get through to him. He reeled back a fraction, looking up at the larger wolf with a stricken, wounded expression on his young face. No one had ever said something so hurtful to him, and especially no one who knew so little about him. Immediately, he was aware of what an offensive and pitiful spectacle he was making of himself, and picked himself up in a shaky, mechanical motion. His bewildered gaze landed on Lumiya for only a moment before he regained some semblance of control over his features and twisted them into something that was not quite as simple or helpless.

No, he said, his voice hoarse from overuse. No — I can still hunt. His voice was wooden; his words rote. I just need to be alone.

He didn't; he felt alone enough already. More completely than he'd previously thought possible. But while Lumiya's concern had been a sweet balm on his soul, the stranger's lack of understanding was a cold dose of reality. His mother and father were dead; these wolves did not know him. As long as he was here, he was alone.

"What?" She looked at the Queen's rage in a question. She felt it was a truthful statement, as the goal was to move on. However, Orlaith couldn't say how she would feel if someone close to her had passed away, as far as she knew, none has. Anyone she was particulary close to, which was her parents, were now pratically dead due to the banishment.

There was not too many, she would mourn over for weeks. Most likely; none.

Orlaith was rather innocent- despite how harsh she was.

She looked upon the boy trying to act strong, and raised her brow at him, especially as he looked at her with such a gaze. For once- she wasn't really sure what to say.

To the question, if it even really was one, the fae simply shook her head and turned back to Valiant. Orlaith was not one to understand the complexities of emotion the way the wannabe therapist did - but as she looked upon to the young man, ready to baby him, it seemed that Orlaith had gotten through to him more than the delicate wind fae had.

Are you sure? She asked upon hearing he wanted to be alone. She couldn't force him to stick with them, to let them comfort and help and lift his sorrows, but it would be a sin not to try and convince him.

At Lumiya's question, Valiant gave a stiff nod, seeming more and more in control of himself by the moment. It was a facade, of course; he had only just found his father dying, then dead. He was a mess, and such pain did not fade so easily. But the boy had taken Orlaith's words to heart. He believed that moving on was what was expected from him, immediately and entirely.

Thank you, he said stiffly, and nodded to Lumiya and Orlaith in turn. He turned and threaded deeper into the willows, intent on reaching the rose grove where the mothers had been laid to rest.

She was confused as ever, not sure what had been said wrong- or what was wrong with the boy in general. As he moved to leave, she too simply shrugged her shoulders up without a care and left too. He said he wanted to be alone, and she found no reason to go after either. The forest needed to be guarded after all, he was a simple detour, thinking he was an intruder.

Well, whatever.