Swiftcurrent Creek “Quill”

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Talk of dead parents.

"Eshe? Are you there?" a familiar voice howled from the borders, "I-It's me, Erne—we gotta talk."

Her stomach dropped; his voice wasn't as chipper as usual.

Y-Yeah, she answered with a howl, unnerved. I'm here, buddy. I'll come right away—I'm just kinda far away. She was kneeling over some winter greens on the other side of the territory. She was trying to harvest everything that'd survived this winter, but that could wait, given her brother's tone. She raced through the territory until she reached him. He looked forlorn, travel-worn, and she quickly herded him across the border.

What's going on? she asked, walking slowly at his side.

He hesitated and looked at the ground.

Come on, she prompted as she felt her heart race, you came all this way—you might as well just say it. What could be so wrong; this was like pulling teeth. Usually, Erne was an open book and not one to be trusted with secrets. She always went to him when she wanted to know what was going on. And now he was here, looking the way he did and avoiding the subject.

Dad died, he said, at last, not meeting her gaze. We don't know what happened, but he didn't wake up one morning. We've all been a wreck since it happened, Eshe.

Eshe said nothing; her world shattered, and her heart broke into a million pieces. This came entirely out of left field, and she was thrown entirely off; her parents had always seemed immortal and that this day would never come.

That's not all—he kept talking about you in the days leading up to it ... but he kept referring to you as Quill. Do you know what that's about?

Eshe quickly cut in a voice unlike herself: meek, quiet, wavering. That has something to do with Grandma Eshe—I don't know the specifics, but, yeah.

Strange. Erne said.

Agreed, Eshe replied, still working through the shock.

Look, I'm sorry to come all this way and throw this on you, but I figured you had to know—

—No, she cut in sharply as tears began to fall from her eyes and wiped them away. I needed to know.

Erne stayed for the rest of the afternoon, giving Eshe a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, and someone to hug. Since the Frosthawks needed him, he needed to return to the pack, and she escorted him back to the borders around sunset.

I wish we could have seen each other on better terms, Eshe, Erne said, pulling her into one last hug.

Eshe nodded in agreement, unable to return the sentiment. Her voice hurt from all the crying, and her body was numb.

Promise me that you'll take care of yourself, okay? he said, ducking to meet her gaze. Or at least this @Akavir guy will.

She nodded again; she'd be fine in time.

Just as he turned to leave, she pulled him back and spun him around. Call me Quill from now on, she asked.

What? Erne said, obviously thrown off. Eshe, that's cra—

Please—call me Quill.  It was the last thing Rannoch remembered her as, and now she wanted ownership over it. She wanted the last tie to her father; a split-minute choice that’d surely weird everybody out. But she didn’t care. Do it for me, Erne.

After some hesitation, he agreed with a nod. See you later, Quill.

Quill watched him leave, feeling empty as his silhouette finally vanished in the foliage. Then, when she was truly alone, she broke down as sobs began to shake her body, and the pain of her loss overcame her. She cried for hours, not returning to the den that she shared with Akavir until later that evening. But before she did, she howled a request to her pack:

Call me Quill Frostfur-Mayfair from now on.