The Sentinels Stargazer

Dark had swept across the coast, a looming and haunting black. It crept until it swallowed everything, blanketing the world in shadow. When starlight began to appear through the clouds, he was deep in the forest by the sea. Cicadas hummed from the underbrush. The music of the late night. 

The bear had found him in his dreams again. Swordfish did not know how to escape it. He had watched the animal die. He had seen the last moments of life leave through the monster’s burning, hungry gaze. When the bear had ceased fighting, when the blood no longer pooled against the earth, when the long shadows had come and swallowed them both, Swordfish had cried. Bathed in crimson and wounds, he sobbed into the ground until he felt that his life too would cease and he would join his family, finally fulfilled. When hours had passed and the deep dark of night had swallowed him and the body of the bear, he picked himself up and staggered into the unknown. 

The bear was dead. The bear was dead. Swordfish was enraged. Why had it not stopped? The gaping hole in his spirit had not been filled. He hadn’t understood. Blind with emotion, the boy had stumbled to the waters edge and collapsed. He had cried out to the sky and the stars and the great glowing moon - why does it hurt! It’s too much. It’s too much. 

Standing in the shade of the forest, Swordfish stared blankly at trees. He’d thought that revenge would heal him. He had believed that the death of the bear would return sense to the world, fill the chasm inside of him. 

But the truth is that some holes keep going. Yawning, heady, insatiable. There would be no healing from that gaping wound of his spirit. There would always be a darkness with the eyes of a bear.

Bridget knew she should return soon but wasn’t quite ready to go home just yet. The shore was peaceful and she knew there would be questions when she got back. For once she didn’t look forward to the conversations.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about Teya leaving. She would do anything she could to ease that transition for everyone involved, and honestly, it might be nice to have that to help her through it as well. It just… wasn’t easy, looking at the days ahead and wondering what her life might look like. Brecheliant was great. But it only ever felt like home because she’d been there.

She was thinking about leaving too. That was the part she struggled with.

Bridget sighed as she picked her way carefully through the trees, then startled slightly as a figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Well shit, she’d been so caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized that she was not alone here.

Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Which says more about my survival instincts than you, apparently. I hope I’m not intruding. She hadn’t noticed a scent line but hey, maybe she’d missed it too. (Seemed implausible, but better to get ahead of it just in case.)

A woman’s voice pulled him from his trance.

The sea blue of his eyes switched to her, noting the bright colors that adorned her coat - vibrant red being the most prominent. Then-

Yer missin’ a leg…

Swordfish gawked at her for a moment, gazing at the stump where her leg should be. There was nothing but a scar to show what had once been. The young man thought it bewildering that she had lost an entire leg and still roamed so close to the sea. A short distance away, he could barely pick up on the scent of her.

Sorry- I-

Swordfish huffed a breath through his nose and pulled his eyes away from her missing appendage. He returned the sea blue stare to her face, the brightness of her eyes. The simple muttered apology wasn’t really enough to cover the moron’s fumbling first words.

I never met someone missin’ a leg like that. It’s… kinda cool.

Even with everything weighing on her mind, his words managed to surprise a genuine laugh out of her. It came out before she could stop it, even if she’d wanted to, and it felt nice. Oh, god, sorry. That’s just the first I’ve ever heard that. She glanced back at her leg, then replied with a laugh still underlying the words. You’re right though. It’s at least a little cool.

It was easy to forget about it, but she appreciated that he shared her optimism. At least about this, she amended internally, unsure how to read his general demeanor.

I’m Bridget. Currently from Brecheliant, way over… somewhere. I was traveling with a friend, but she needed a change of scenery. You just passing through too?

She laughed.

Thank god…

Swordfish visibly sagged as relief washed over him. The woman seemed like she was good-natured enough. Realizing this was something of a shock for him as well. She had lost one of her legs and yet she was willing to laugh about it, to engage in conversation with a bright expression and kindness that layered each word she spoke.

A strange sense of envy filled him, spreading through like thick fog off the water.

How could she be so normal? What had she done to recover from her loss? And then, he wondered why he could not do the same.

Bridget. Suits ya. As much as a name could. The bright red on her face was striking and captivating.

I’m Shardik. I used to live out here. Now I’m helpin’ some- some deranged lunatic of a man who can scarcely help himself. Helpin’ a friend, I guess. Ya hungry? I got some fish back there. The young man gestured toward the beach. It seemed she was far from home and though he did not do it intentionally, he worried that she might not be that good at catching her own meals.

Shardik. She’d never heard a name like it before, and it didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. But he had a seriousness about him it kind of suited. She was the last person to be judging a name.

You’re the helping sort, then? She asked with a glint of warm amusement still present in her smile. Kind of you. Only if you have some to spare. Pride would have kept her from it a while back, but she knew she was capable of catching a fish or two herself. If he could save her the time that was a favor worth acknowledging.

This friend you’re helping. What sort of help do they need? If it was medical, maybe she could return the favor.

Swordfish didn’t know how to respond to her initial statement. The helping sort wasn’t really a description that fit him. He was the sort who ran away. The sort who would hide to avoid working. The sort who had only known dedication because of the bear that had instilled it within him. Did he enjoy helping others? No. He would have much rather found a soft spot in the sand and napped his days away, chasing rays of sun into the waves and caring about little.

The young man turned, gesturing with his snout for Bridget to follow him. He trotted back, nearer to where Lestan had been left. When he sniffed around the base of a fallen tree, he unearthed a large fish. Clutched in his teeth, he approached the three-legged woman and placed it neatly in front of her.

This friend you’re helping. What sort of help do they need?

Swordfish’s heavy-lidded gaze lifted before he heaved a sigh and let his shoulders sag into an apathetic shrug.

More than ya got time fer, I’ll tell ya that much. He’s- He’s a bit funny. Like somethin’ rattled his brains around in his head. Talks in this shaky stammer. He fixes on things and they eat him up until he’s like- the young man didn’t know how to proceed. There was a moment of silence before he returned his sights to the bright red upon her face. It don’t feel right leavin’ him to his own devices. Not without tryin’ to help.

That was a big assumption for him to make, Bridget thought with no small amount of amusement. Probably a correct one, though. She should really get back to Brecheliant, even if only to check in. Besides that; she had a few promises to keep.

It’s admirable, doing that. I’ve been a medic long enough to know more than a few wolves in similar situations. Sometimes just having someone who gets it is enough to help. And sometimes they chase it until there’s not much left. She didn’t know what this friend of his was hung up on, but she’d seen obsession destroy a few lives in the past. Sometimes it was drugs, sometimes it was revenge, and sometimes…. well. Sometimes it was loss.

Just be careful, if you’re willing to do another stranger a favor? And look after yourself too. Bridget smiled, clearly aware her words couldn’t carry too much weight. It wasn’t like she knew his friend (though if she’d known it was Lestan, she might have thought differently). She’d put the family from her thoughts a while back, another instance where she’d tried her best and had to allow fate to take it from there.

I’m on my way back to Brecheliant after this, I think. It’s a caldera southeast of here. If you change your mind, I’m sure you’d both be welcome there. We all tend to wander in and out as we see fit. It was the least she could do, if he didn’t need anything now. Maybe in the future that would change.

Swordfish listened, fighting the urge to protest. To say that he was not an admirable thing. In fact, he could not really fathom the reason why he did it. Maybe something in his heart saw the look in Lestan’s eyes and remembered when he himself had been so desperate for help. So unable to ask. Some things hadn’t changed, of course. Swordfish was not the type to ask for help, even facing the brink of death.

Medic work. That’s- That’s tough. Dunno that I could do somethin’ like that, he confessed to her in a soft voice.

Bridget’s warning to look after himself was met with an unspeakable expression. Swordfish lifted his eyes to her and looked at the flame-touched face with a sense of loss. Some things he just didn’t know how to do. So he nodded. He nodded because he had no reason to argue with this nice woman who had given him a sense of sanity amid a sea of chaos.

Alright… I got a big fish here somewhere, he sniffed at the areas where he believed he’d left a cache.

How long ya been at Brecheliant? What’s that name mean?

I know I left this forever, so wrapping it here. Sorry about that! Life got overwhelming there for a bit

She could tell it would take more than a single conversation to convince him that he didn’t need to be so hard on himself, so Bridget silently let it go. She wasn’t about to push too far and upset him; besides, she didn’t know much about him either way. Could be this was just a particularly rough day. Insight told her otherwise, but it was easier not to make assumptions.

I’ve been there, off and on, for a few years now. More off than on though, I’ll admit. She chuckled, then shook her head. I don’t actually know where they got the name. The family that leads it is nice though. If you ever make it by that way, they’d be thrilled to tell you. Most of them are storytellers. That was the impression Bridget had at least, from how often stories seemed to feature in the pack’s downtime activities.

She shared his company a while longer, trading conversation for a shared meal, before it seemed like it was time to go. If he had questions she answered them best she could, but there was plenty she could say about the snippets of pack life she’d seen. It was likely all he wanted was the distraction, and truth be told, she welcomed it just as much herself.