Swiftcurrent Creek Hope you be yourself and lose your friends, hope they call you out for shit you said
Hoping for a @Cygnet <3 other tags for ref!
Mae carried a bloodied hare in her jaws, cutting a swift path through the creek. Along the way she passed by a cache near to @Arlette's den.Pointedly, she kept walking.
All of her kills of late seemed to end up on the other side of the territory, though if asked, Mae would insist that this was nothing more than coincidence. She might even make a show of bringing some kills nearer to the new mother — but only for a little while. All in all, she avoided the den. She especially avoided @Arric.
But it was fine, you know? She was used to being alone. She was. It didn't sting at all.
June 13, 2024, 12:12 AM
Jealousy made Cygnet ugly.
She made certain to steer clear of both Arric and Arlette whenever they came out of the den, and would continue to avoid them by all means necessary. She didn’t think it would be too hard, either. After all- which of them would abandon the other just to chase her down and make her face up to them?
Arric might.
Morbidly she imagined being hunted down by the man once he’d been driven mad by being snubbed the worship she imagined him wanting for his brood. She imagined being brought before the children so she might look upon their smug faces only to have hers pushed into the dirt. Part of her wished that something would happen just so that she could convince herself to do something dramatic.
Her dark thoughts festered; wicked plans teased her, surprisingly elaborate and almost embarrassingly tempting- but she couldn’t commit. They remained within her, as she bound herself to secrecy.
But like Mae, she avoided the wolves but not necessarily their hearth. She couldn’t deny her own curiosity every now and again; and just the same way she stalked her packmates that she avoided the most, she wound up haunting the vicinity of the den.
Mae’s arrival had caused her some worry, that she might have to compete more for Akavir’s attention; but with the amount of time she spent invested in her own activities, she found herself growing less and less needy of his attention. She was busy- so she allowed him the space to invest in another wolf.
She’d drawn Cygnet’s eye once or twice, as the girl wondered silently what her story was- what had happened to her, and why she was here now. Who wanted her? Who wanted to hurt her? As with others, Cygnet asked no questions, preferring to live within the brewing cloud of her own hypotheses.
She fed them by stalking the young woman as she moved toward the outskirts with a kill, curious why she hadn’t left it as an offering. Others were leaving food left and right. Did she, too, begrudge the new parents? Or was this simply her habit?
She made certain to steer clear of both Arric and Arlette whenever they came out of the den, and would continue to avoid them by all means necessary. She didn’t think it would be too hard, either. After all- which of them would abandon the other just to chase her down and make her face up to them?
Arric might.
Morbidly she imagined being hunted down by the man once he’d been driven mad by being snubbed the worship she imagined him wanting for his brood. She imagined being brought before the children so she might look upon their smug faces only to have hers pushed into the dirt. Part of her wished that something would happen just so that she could convince herself to do something dramatic.
Her dark thoughts festered; wicked plans teased her, surprisingly elaborate and almost embarrassingly tempting- but she couldn’t commit. They remained within her, as she bound herself to secrecy.
But like Mae, she avoided the wolves but not necessarily their hearth. She couldn’t deny her own curiosity every now and again; and just the same way she stalked her packmates that she avoided the most, she wound up haunting the vicinity of the den.
Mae’s arrival had caused her some worry, that she might have to compete more for Akavir’s attention; but with the amount of time she spent invested in her own activities, she found herself growing less and less needy of his attention. She was busy- so she allowed him the space to invest in another wolf.
She’d drawn Cygnet’s eye once or twice, as the girl wondered silently what her story was- what had happened to her, and why she was here now. Who wanted her? Who wanted to hurt her? As with others, Cygnet asked no questions, preferring to live within the brewing cloud of her own hypotheses.
She fed them by stalking the young woman as she moved toward the outskirts with a kill, curious why she hadn’t left it as an offering. Others were leaving food left and right. Did she, too, begrudge the new parents? Or was this simply her habit?
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