Bearclaw Valley fruitless

Another journey ended up no results; Laurel glumly returned to Bearclaw Valley. The scents that Lucas had left behind were long gone now, which only further frustrated the searches that she made. There was little here in Bearclaw Valley left to live for -- just Indra and Piper, mostly, and whatever little solace the other children gave her. There was more to leave for than to stay, she realised with each passing day. Xan would never give her what she needed from him and only tolerated her because he had no pack without her and Indra there.

The only thing that kept Laurel here was the lingering hope that Lucas might return and that he would visit Bearclaw Valley first when he did. She couldn't bear the thought that she would be gone by then and he would find an empty pack, or worse, Xan, who might fill his head with lies.

Her step was slumped as she made her way to the rendezvous site around dusk, and it was painfully obvious that her latest venture out to the beyond had given no results. Her stomach rumbled as she knew she should hunt and fill the caches -- winter was coming up quick and she was afraid for what was to come -- but it was hard to motivate herself to do anything without Lucas' shining optimism to encourage her.

like the rest of the wolves mona had come to consider family, she too had searched for the round boy, calling his name until all hope that he would respond left her. but the others in bearclaw had not given up the questing, and so neither would she. reminded by the bite of winter in the air that soon harder times would be upon them, the girl had attempted to divide her time searching and hunting. stigmata had returned, or at least had been scented on the borders; mona didn't know what to make of that.
her own birthday had come and gone with no fanfare from the mayfair; it was not something worthy of celebration. and so mona had not noticed the small creeping changes that had been wrought in her, detailing her small form with a maturity that seemed to cloak her overnight. she drew up the trail of laurel's scent and approached gingerly, for it was a site of children still. "laurel," came her soft voice; both sisters were aloof creatures, but it was only indra that mona knew. 
pausing with a half-lifted forepaw, the young scout awaited laurel's greeting of her before she would go on.

Things looked glum, and Laurel knew that she was the only one who could really do anything to change it right now. She needed to confront Xan, demand an answer from him, she needed to gather wolves for their pack, she needed to hunt and prepare for winter. She needed to be an inspiring leader, or whatever, to wolves like Indra and --

Mona.

Laurel swallowed difficultly as she heard her name and forced a smile to her face that was clearly not genuine. "Mona," she returned, only a semblance of cheer to her voice; whatever little she could muster. She could see from Mona's face -- and the fact she hadn't come running up to her and enthusiastically told her the good news -- that she hadn't found Lucas yet either, and that he hadn't come running back to their pack in the meantime. Laurel sighed, a crack in her crumbling façade, and said no more -- there were no words for how she felt.

laurel's voice held the pain of a thousand years, and mona's heart broke. she could not fathom the agony twisting in the woman now. in truth, she could not imagine parenthood. perhaps at one time, when nathaniel had been in her life, the promise of being a mother was existent. now mona had not thought of it for some time, and the choking reality that mothers lost their children now consumed mona.
hesitantly she crept forward toward the redleaf, swallowing her fear of being rebuffed. all mona had to offer was her affection, her gratitude for bearclaw, how swiftly the sisters had accepted her. a low croon — if laurel allowed, the mayfair would press her muzzle to the other's shoulder and stay silently beside her. 
and if she was rejected, the girl would remove herself and let the alpha have her quietude.
but she hoped laurel would accept, hoped fervently for it.

Laurels heart beat in her chest rapidly as she stayed in silence, wanting desperately to get out of the situation but also so direly in need of consolation. When Mona came closer and pressed her nose against laurel her face crumbled, and she stood frozen, allowing the touch though tensely so, not sure whether to melt into the embrace or keep her strong face.

not immediately rebuffed, mona's heart swelled with a deep relief and she was still. she did not need laurel to crumble, only accept her touch — presently she shifted closer and would begin to preen the alpha's fur along her ruff, if allowed. all the while, her murkwater eyes were filled with the sorrow that poured from laurel; could she take any part of it, mona would.

Even as the affection was given to her Laurel remained still, her muscles tense and her body stiff. She did not want to be so distant and cold, but it was all she could at present time. She allowed Mona to preen her fur just as she had allowed the initial touch, simply waiting until the task was done, frozen.

laurel did not relent. mona remained as she was for a short while, but begin to feel the moments ticking into a feeling of discomfort. the tension of the leader's body shouted i do not want this, or so it did to the young mayfair. slowly she drew aside, maintaining some contact with laurel until at last mona stepped aside and looked sideways at the woman, wholly confused and stricken with worry.

The moment of stressed muscles seemed to last forever. Laurel allowed it, because she really needed someone. She just didn't know how to express her needs, and she didn't know how to say 'please be here with me'; and neither did her body know how to express that, it seemed. She let out a low whine when Mona distanced herself, but did not do anything to close the distance. Ears folded to her chest as she sorrowfully looked at Mona before turning away, intending to walk away slowly. On the short term, maybe it was easier to be alone right now.

and mona followed. she did not know how to ask laurel if she wished to be left alone, but neither did she want to leave her leader in such a clear time of worry. at a small distance she followed, turning her gaze to search for game, a silent companion to laurel's wandering.

we can fade maybe? :)

Oh, loyal Mona, how she followed even in these times of distress when it was not fun in any way to be around Laurel. Laurel knew this, and she appreciated deeply one of their few followers left. She appreciated Mona so much, but nothing about her showed this appreciation as she walked away slowly, even as she heard Mona's paws fall in step with hers, ever dutifully by her side.