Moonspear now make room

can be anyone! just tagging some close faces since they might be most likely to respond :)

he wished to walk that snowy afternoon, to be brought out into the fresh air.

a burst of energy he had woken with after a not so unusual late morning nap.

yet he knew better now than to try and stand much by himself. so he let out a soft, warbled type sound. wondering if @Sialuk or even @Chakliux might come. his intention clear in his calling.

She felt a bit like a zombie, shuffling down the mountain with bloodshot eyes. As exhausted as she felt, that comparison made her smile as it crossed her mind. Then her face twisted into a grimace and she lurched to a halt when the pups kicked in a manner that could only be called violent.

When she could move again, Meerkat continued her weary shamble to the sick den at the foot of the mountain. As she approached the hollow tree overlooking the glen, she thought she heard a noise. With only one functioning ear, it was hard to tell over the sound of her heavy footsteps and even heavier breathing. She paused and held her breath.

meemee!!

he waited, patient.

yet it did not seem like anybody was in a rush. maybe they just did not hear him with his dry voice. it felt worse somehow to draw even more attention to himself.

still he wanted to be out there. in the soft snows and cold air.

he called again, a little louder this time.

A low warble made her ears twitch, eyes cutting to the entrance of the nearby log. She hastened toward it—as much as she could, given her condition—and peeked her head inside. Her eyes squinted in the gloom.

Quennell? Are you alright? she asked, her pulse thumping in her throat.

he had wanted to go out.

only he was so suddenly overwhelmed by the sudden face of meerkat in the entrance of the den, that he accidentally slid backwards. bumping his sore rear against a wall and yelping.

his instinct was to drop low, flatten himself against the earth. stared at the bloodshot eyes of meemee.

ah, uh, his voice fumbled in his own throat. he could not even find it in himself to give his alias in place of his name that she spoke.

sorry.

Before her eyes could adjust, a yelp echoed against the wooden walls. Meerkat’s heart leapt into her throat as the silhouette near the back suddenly dropped to the ground. In an ungainly movement, she moved inside and crouched. From up close, she could see the frightened, pained look on Quennell’s face.

Hey! What’s wrong?

she was yelling!

not exactly, but it felt like it in the closing space to the suddenly overwhelmed boy.

sorry! he blurted again, not thinking about how it wasn't really an answer to her question. sorry! again! fumbling and disgruntled in some ways.

ah, i jus'...wanna...go...out?

and now he felt uncertain of even that!

He apologized a second and third time. Meerkat looked at him in bewilderment, lips slightly parted. If she meant to ask another question, she didn’t quite get around to it before Quennell declared he wanted to go outside. She met this statement with a blink, then slowly backpedaled out of the hollow log, making sure to leave him space to exit.

Are you sure you’re alright? Meerkat asked, though he hadn’t actually answered her the first time.

no.

he meant it, but he did not know why he said it. immediately he looked away, ears softly splayed.

um, can you...help me get out?

and maybe he'd feel more inclined to blabber out in the fresh air. instead of the space that suddenly compelled him to feel a sense of claustrophobia.

Her lips pursed and pulled downward at his, “No.” Before she could think of how to respond, Quennell begged for her help leaving the den. Meerkat blinked, then shuffled back inside without hesitation.

Of course, she said quietly, positioning herself so he could lean on her.

She was very pregnant and very tired, though she would do whatever she could for Quennell. He wasn’t Meerkat’s son—and having him here made her miss Swordfish all the more poignantly—though she loved him much like an auntie or older sister might.

We can move forward whenever you’re ready.

ready,

as he could ever be like this. an embarrassment to feel the weakness in his legs and the tremble they gave alongside meerkat's...round form.

something about it sparked guilt, but what didn't these days?

all that mattered was that first ruffle of mountain air upon his fur. the fur that was tangled and matted gently from time spent sleeping in the same place.

it was enough to inspire a soft stream of tears.

They made their way into the open air, then stopped. Meerkat didn’t move away, still letting Quennell’s weight rest against her. She thought about how much time he’d spent convalescing. It seemed like he’d been recovering from one wound or another for months. No wonder he wanted to leave the healing den.

She looked at his face and felt alarm when she saw the tears. Without thinking, she nuzzled his cheek. It was no picnic, being an invalid. But Meerkat sensed there was something much wronger here than simply Quennell’s physical ailments.

Talk to me, Quen, she said softly.

he sunk.

he broke.

it was nothing new and yet each time it felt fresh all over again. there was a million things he wanted to say to meerkat, to tell her about. yet all of them were wrong.

not to mention that —

i...i dunno how.

perhaps it was no secret that in his healing, he had lost some of his finer communication skills. more inclined to shut down than talk nowadays.

He said he didn’t know how, which stumped Meerkat for a moment. All he needed to do was tell her what was on his mind. It shouldn’t be difficult, unless it was somehow hard for him to talk about what ailed him. Perhaps it brought him pain or shame. She chewed at her lip.

You can tell me anything, Quen, anything, she reassured him. If you want to try, just say whatever it is you’re thinking. You can trust me. I won’t judge you. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just try to do whatever I can to help.

he sagged further.

as if his body willed him to lay down once more when all he had wished for was to walk. to see the mountain and smell the air here from beyond a den.

i am angry.

he could only look at his paws now.

at myself. at everyone. a ragged exhale. shardik won' leave me, meemee. no healin' is takin' 'im from me.

She didn’t know what to expect, if he did decide to talk to her. But the mention of anger took her by surprise. It was not an emotion she would’ve attributed to Quennell. Meerkat supposed he hadn’t been himself in quite some time… ever since the bear had stolen his sense of adventure, among other things.

Is Shardik… the bear? she ventured, taking a seat and facing him. Why are you angry with yourself? she added.