Blackfeather Woods so you run and you run to catch up with the sun

Today, she searched for @Kove, for it was long past time to have a conversation with her mentor, words of which had been turning in her mind for moons.

The relief upon first seeing him at the border had faded into a cool, hard acceptance, with the initial anger for his absence lying just beneath. Why hadn't he come for her? The man had professed to care about her; he could have left his daughter or Aries, or even Damien in charge of the Woods. Instead, he'd sent Moonshadow with a stranger--and so soon after her trauma, it had been the wrong choice of wolf. Not that he would have known that, but. . .

It should have been him.

She would have gone home with Kove in a heartbeat, had he come to the sea. Nothing against Coelacanth and the other seawolves, but she loved Kove, loved him as if he were family. He was family--the closest thing she had to a father after Cicero's departure. He was a father, a mentor, a friend. She once held him in the highest esteem possible. But then she had disappeared, and he had not come for her.

Maegi weaved through the narrow forest paths, bicolored eyes keen as she sought out the Dark Master. He must be here somewhere, hidden within the trees. It was just a matter of finding him--unless he didn't want to be found?

It was deep within the tunnels that he wove his path, migrating from one part of the woods to another, and then on towards even another yet. It was easier to move down within the Web, where he was hidden from view and the aches that plagued him hidden, too, in turn; the gradual shift in the weather was wearing on him, bothering his bones in a way he never would have expected in his youth. But that was the way in which an aging body worked—this he knew, and this he’d come to accept.

Eventually, Kove reemerged from the underground and ventured through the forest itself, looking but not searching. It was shortly after that, that he spotted Maegi, at whom he offered a nod of acknowledgment before starting to slow his pace. He had not spoken to her since her return, the event still playing through his head like a dream; it was hard to believe that she was home now. Thus he offered her the chance to speak, should she have any interest in doing so.

He looked old--that was her first thought. Eons older than he had before; weren't wolves supposed to look younger, as you aged? She returned his nod, but knew that the time for pleasantries had passed. There was no use beating around the bush.

"I didn't leave, Kove--or, rather, I did so to seek out my brothers, but was taken against my will just outside of the woods," she explained coolly, raising her chin toward the eastern edge of the forest. "It was always my intention to return, but after all that happened, the. . ." The girl trailed off, and then turned, so that her exposed, scarred cheek faced him. "I became lost, without any sense of direction. I could not find my way home, and I was afraid to ask, because I didn't know who our enemies were."

Maegi rotated again to face him dead-on, bicolored eyes drilling into his. "Why didn't you look for me?" she asked, her voice low, hard. "You sent Moonshadow and another woman; you didn't even come for your apprentice yourself. I cared about you more than my own father--why didn't you look for me?" She firmed her jaw, waiting for his response and knowing that it would be inadequate.

Her grudges were formidable; they stood the test of time.

She explained herself.

She explained herself when, as far as he was concerned, doing so was not necessary. Her leaving had not been a pleasant thing, it wasn’t something that he’d ever been fond of, but it had happened. That could not be changed, no part of the past could be, but it was fixed—she was home now, back where she belonged, and that was what he focused on the most. But it seemed that her thoughts did not revolve around the same thing as his own, for the past plagued her yet.

“I couldn’t leave the woods,” he answered, setting his gaze against her own. “Not for an extended amount of time, that is. I could not leave to search for you, not for as long as it would have taken.” He had to watch over the woods, back then and presently, too. “The children were still young and our numbers weak. I couldn’t leave them unprotected,” he explained further. “I’m not so sure I would have been able to travel all around, all alone, either.” He had not known where she’d gone, not even a hint of a location. Kove knew that, had he left to find her, he would have needed to venture all throughout the Teekon Wilds—a journey that he knew not whether his body could still hold together for, with his age showing far more clearly than ever before.

Somewhere deep down, she knew he was right. She hated him for it, but she knew it all the same. But the stubborn anger wasn't about to give up so easily; it still burned hot in her chest. She wanted answers, damn it. No, more than that, she wanted passion. Not this cold, rational response. She wanted to know that her absence had hurt him just as much as his staying here had hurt her.

You could have put someone else in charge, Maegi tried, though she knew her rhetoric was faltering. Nyx, Aries. It wouldn't have taken that long. Moonshadow found me soon enough. I. . .I needed you, too. You. Not Moonshadow, not whoever was with her that day--you.

Oh, deep down, she knew she sounded like a petulant child. But she kept on all the same, for she wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. To weep blood, to beg for forgiveness. All of the abandonment-centered rage suddenly reared its ugly head, and she had to dig her claws into the ground to keep from sinking them in his flesh--both literally and metaphorically.

He might be the Dark Master, but before that, he had been her mentor. And he had failed her, in Maegi's eyes.

Deep within his chest, there was an ache. An ache for the life before she’d gone missing, an ache for all of the lives and family he’d left behind.

Over time, it all added up—and it weighed greatly on him, pressing down upon his heart.

“I couldn’t do that,” he returned, taking a step towards her. “I could not leave anyone else in charge. Not then, not now, and especially not either of those children. We have lost enough to those too young to understand—to act.” Another step was taken towards her, his ears back, as he made a move to touch the side of his muzzle to her cheek. “I’m sorry I did not come for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to bring you home,” he continued, allowing just an ounce of emotion into his voice for the first time in a long time. “I wanted to find you. I wish I had been able to leave, but there are some things that I could not—cannot—do.” Not anymore.

Gods, he was good. He would always be close to her heart, and with the softening of his tone, his gentle touch, her stubbornness began to wither away. She wanted to cry, to collapse into his embrace--but Maegi was grown now. A pup no longer. She needed to be strong, even when she felt weaker and more wrong than ever.

I forgive you, she breathed, her breath hitching slightly in her throat as she composed herself. She looked up at him (noticing her neck craned less and less as the moons went on). What's done is done. I need to forgive you, let it go. I'm sorry, too. For blaming you. The lingering ghost of the anger still remained--it always would--but the substance was all but gone.

What did I miss, while I was away? Maegi asked, trying to bring some much-needed levity into the conversation. She smiled, laughing just slightly. Relmyna's girls have grown up into terrors, she noted, thinking with some bemusement of their many quirks.

Whilst she was able to forgive him, he could not forgive himself. The situation as a whole was not one he was particularly fond of, and it pained him to admit what he had to her—how there were things he could do no longer. For he had once been her mentor, a wolf for her to look up to and learn from, but now he was gradually becoming someone to not necessarily look down on, but away from; soon he would be a guardian no more, but a mere statue of bone destined to dwell forever under the canopy of the woods. Soon, the stars would shine above, perhaps a bit brighter than ever before.

Kove offered to her what comfort he could, situating himself so that she might come closer, should she wish to do so; his thoughts were heavy still, his conscious being pressed down upon, but these things he tried so desperately to push past as the ghost of a smile was forced to slip across his lips. “They have grown, haven’t they?” he noted, perhaps a bit absentmindedly. When had they gotten so big? He couldn’t remember the change.

“Many of those that were once loyal to the woods have left,” he began. “Astrid and Damien, to name just two. To where, I do not know. They gave no prior warning.” And that, as much as he hated to admit, made them traitors. “My children have been taken from me, those most loyal have betrayed us—the forest has been hurt in your absence.” Her return could not fix those things, perhaps there was nothing that could, but it did fill one of the many holes that littered his heart.

That's a shame, Maegi responded, though she wasn't surprised. Nyx had always seemed like the type of wolf to want more. As for Damien, well--he had been such a minor presence in her life that she could make no judgments on him. He certainly didn't mean as much to her as Euron, Ramsay, or Cicero. Perhaps it was better that he was gone.

They will regret it, the girl said, chin firming as she stared at Kove. The daedra won't follow them, wherever they go. Their voices live here; Meldresi lives here. This was the chosen forest--wherever they pick won't be the same. No matter what they did, no matter who they persuaded. Even if Maegi had her problems with Kove (well, not so much, now), at least his loyalty had never faltered.

Still, that sucks, Maegi continued. But we'll get past it. We always do.

It was true. No matter where they went, no matter who they found or spells they chanted, their next home would never be like the woods—they would never have Meldresi with them, not like Blackfeather’s occupants did.

“We will,” he agreed with a nod. “There will be new generations that come after them, new wolves to take their place. We will thrive once again, even with Meldresi’s children all now gone.” For though they were gone, her spirit and grandchildren still remained—her blood still flowed through even the deepest of roots within the woods, and that would never change. “But do you think you will miss your family?” he couldn’t help but ask, following up the news of her uncle’s departure. “Damien was the last of your lineage that could share the family history with you. Do you think you will regret not learning about the Melonii history?” Kove had been around for a long while now, longer than anyone currently there, but even he did not know the history in full—not of the family, at least. He knew his own, the blood of the north, but never had he thought to establish a superb understanding of the blood of the witches—never did he think he’d need to, that the Melonii family would dwindle so terribly.

It was a fair question, but she didn't even have to think on the answer. Maegi shook her head, a small, rueful smile painting her maw. Damien wasn't really my family, she responded. I barely knew him. Just because we're connected by blood doesn't mean I'll miss him. You, Relmyna, Mou. . .you're my family. And you're here.

All three of the wolves she had mentioned came from different backgrounds, different bloodlines. Yet they were bonded to her more closely than Damien ever would be. Perhaps it was foolish to be so proud of her Melonii blood when, in the end, blood made little difference in who was closest to your heart. Maybe it was the name, rather than the blood, that mattered.

If the gods tell me about the Melonii bloodline, they'll tell me, Maegi continued. Otherwise, I have more important things to learn.

It was a mature response—honestly though, what else was he to expect from her, if not that? Nevertheless, he cast a small smile down upon her, saying, “You are right in that blood does not make a family.” Whilst he’d been raised to believe the opposite—the Apaata family was an old one, with a great deal of branches and traditions to follow—he’d since come to realise that blood alone did not create a family. Memories, bonds, traumas—those made families and they made them  strong.

“I’m glad his leaving has not negatively affected you,” he decided after a brief pause. He did not quite agree with how nonchalant she was in regards to learning of her family but, as he did not wish to upset her, he kept his thoughts strictly to himself—he’d tried to, at least, but they came back with a vengeance in the form of an  idea. “If you plan to leave it to the gods to tell you of your family, then would you like to hear of mine?” he asked. “You are not mine by blood but, as you said, you are family to me.” And that was unusual to admit aloud.

Yes, Maegi answered definitely, dipping her head in a gentle, respectful nod. I would very much like to hear about your family. There had to be others beyond Nyx, right? Who had her mother been? Any siblings? Did Kove have siblings living--if so, where were they? Right now, the Apataas seemed more accessible (and less immediate) than the Meloniis.

She supposed Potema had gotten what she wanted. Her daughter--a double Melonii by blood, a mutt by choice.

She was interested; it wasn’t necessarily surprising but, rather, pleasant to hear. For though she was not the first overall to be curious, she was the first from the woods.

“Before finding my way down here, I lived in the far north. Farther than where the Teekon Wilds reach, farther than many from here have ever travelled before,” he began. “I was born there, into a large family that expands across the entirety of the northern lands. Things were wonderful, calm—it was nothing like the lands down here. I miss it sometimes...” How could he not? How could he not miss his original home, the place where he was born and raised, where much of his family resided still? Every now and again, he has to resist the urge to make the long journey back.

“The stories from the north are great ones—perhaps I will share them with you someday but, for now, I will focus on the Apaata’s that may be found here,” he continued with a small, unmistakably sad, smile. “I ventured for a long while without a true home. This was my first home after leaving the north. I met your grandmother, Meldresi, and found that I could stay here.” It was so different from the home he left behind. “Eventually, I left after meeting a woman name Scarlett. She was... someone amazing. I miss her, though I spent a long time after we parted ways hating her.” And that weighed on him each and every day, how he’d treated the memory of her—and how he’d initially reacted upon hearing of her untimely passing. “Her and I ruled Bearclaw Valley together. We had four children—Alexander, my son, and Desna, Nanook, and Sesi, my daughters. Things changed, though. Times became rough, with me being pulled up north to reunite with a sibling I’d previously thought dead. Eventually, we separated, and I hated her for that. For such a long time, I hated her, but I suppose that’s what happens when your heart aches so badly.” That was the first chapter of his life, the most significant piece that then led to his current existence. “She took my daughters with her and I brought our son here. Eventually, he left to start his own life and I remained here.”

He always remained in the woods. Even after leaving, he was always drawn back—perhaps it was a curse, or simply just some terrible sense of duty that he felt obligated to fulfill, even after all this time.

“Perhaps you will run into my children if you ever travel again. Desna is Valette now—she told me once how she leads a pack of her own now, but time has taken the memory of the name away from me,” he explained. “After them came Astrid, Atshen, Keelut, and Abraxas—their mother is not a woman worth meeting, and I hope you never cross paths with her. Those children are all gone now, too, but they were never truly mine. Two carry names from my homeland but not a single one of them would bring pride to the north. Be warned that, should you ever meet them, you should turn tail and run. Keelut is not so bad but... there is something off about that boy. Will you promise me that you will avoid them?” He had to mention them, even though he wished not to. They were still carriers of his blood, they still existed—he couldn’t pretend that they were not there, not when the crows and ravens knew them to exist, and not when they could very well try to steal Maegi away someday.

They were his shame, truly and undoubtedly.

“Then came the most recent additions to the Apaata line, though they were stolen away,” he explained, beginning the next chapter. “I met another northerner and thought her to be what I needed, but she was not. She was nothing like the women of my family, nothing like those from the other northern families that my siblings and cousins have settled down with. She bore my children and then ran away with them in the night, encouraged and assisted by those of her own family that had gradually started to appear.” It was the only way she would have made it out, he’d assumed. Not to mention how they’d all vanished at once—some things were not purely coincidental. “Her name is Shivali. I cannot leave to find her, just as I could not leave to find you. But I hope that someday those children will wonder about their father, that they will find their way back here, back to us, so that they may be raised correctly.” As Apaata’s, with proper northern morals. “There are many of my family spread throughout the lands, Maegi. Some are old, some are young, some travel and some stay home, but they all share something—you can trust them,” he added, a prideful tone filling his voice. “If ever you meet another, you can trust them. Many know of me or my grandfather, Aningan. If you mention either of us, they will help you, no matter where you are or what you’ve done. You will always have the assistance of the north.” His siblings, his cousins, his aunts and uncles... he knew anyone would help her, any single one of them would assist someone with a connection, direct or otherwise, to Aningan Apaata.

She settled in, not knowing how long he would speak. Longer than she thought--she was pleasantly surprised. She nodded at all the right moments, storing names away as they came. Some seemed vaguely familiar. Astrid, of course. Shivali--she had met Shivali a while back. She had wondered where the woman had gone, and now she knew.

And Bearclaw Valley. . .she knew the place. A shudder ran through her as she recalled the circumstances that had brought her there.

Aningan Apaata, Maegi repeated dutifully, committing the name to memory--the utmost priority over the others. I-- I know Bearclaw Valley. I stayed there for a while after I was injured. She turned her grotesque cheek to him in illustration. A woman named Indra. There were wolves there, some of them looked like you. . .you lived there once? It was beautiful. . .

She trailed off, losing herself to reverie. Terrible reverie. She dragged herself out of it as soon as it had began. Why don't you go home, to the north? Maegi asked him, trying to keep her thoughts away from the past. Her past, at least. You seem like you miss it greatly, and let's face it--the Melonii aren't what they used to be. Meldresi is gone. My mother and father, too. Why do you stay if there's nothing left?

That she knew of Bearclaw Valley came as a surprise, which was reflected through the way his ears perked up and he visibly brightened, curious. Had Alexander taken the valley? Nanook? Sesi? No, not a single one of those names followed after, only an Indra; though this did not necessarily mean that one, or more, of his children had not claimed the valley for themselves, he did not push for names for fear of what reality would be. He merely nodded and said, “I did. My wife at the time, Scarlett, and I were actually the first to find our way into that valley, I believe. The entrance was hidden for so long.” Difficult to find and difficult to enter unwelcome—he had truly loved the valley, for those reasons and so many more. But that past love and his own worries were not enough, it seemed, to keep his curiosity entirely at bay.

“This Indra girl... did she take good care of you?” he asked, then motioned towards the mangled portion of her face. “Did she do all that she could for you, for that?” Had she tried to lessen the degree at which her past troubles were shown so openly across her face?

She had questions for him, too, which he couldn’t immediately answer. For what reasons did he stay—why did he not return to the north, to his people, where he would be most at peace? “Because of the need to fulfill past duties, I suppose,” he offered. “I promised to protect this land until my dying day and to watch over the Melonii children. I can’t bring myself to just abandon those promises—I was raised to stay true to my word, no matter the circumstances.” And, he knew, there was no guarantee that he’d even make it as far north as he would need to go.

She nodded at the question, giving him a tremulous smile. She did. It was. . .it was too late to fix it, when I found her. But she fed me, and gave me a place to stay for a while. She would always hold their kindness in her heart. It had been completely optional, on Indra's part, to take her in.

I'm glad you stayed, Kove, Maegi said honestly, warmth in her eyes. You're more Melonii than the ones who left.

After some time, with perhaps some more words exchanged, the pale girl left the scene, feeling much better than she had before. Nothing in the world was black and white, much as one would like to believe. The universe was much too colorful for that.

Kove nodded but said little more in regards to her injuries and the care received. Whether those of the valley now were of his blood or not, they were kind wolves, it seemed. To take in one that was not their own and care for them was something almost unheard of in recent times but, thankfully, Indra had done so for his former apprentice. Perhaps in the warmer months, when his body did not ache so badly, he would make the trek northward with the hope of meeting her—he had thanks to give, after all, for her actions.

With a small smile, he returned with, “I’m glad I stayed, too.” Had he not, he likely never would have come to know the young Melonii before him now. And whilst he couldn’t help but wonder just how different his life could have been, had things not changed between Scarlett and him or had he never left the north, he longed for those lives just a little less, knowing that he’d made even the slightest bit of an impact by staying. The woods were home, he told himself that every day, yet today was the first in a long time that he not only felt something by thinking so but believed himself wholly.

When it came time to part ways, he wished her well and offered the option to chat at any time, day or night, no matter the reason. For though he felt he could consider her his apprentice no longer, that would not prevent him from offering her words of advice when asked, or from simply being there for her. If he could better the life of anyone at this point, he hoped for it to be her—he hoped she would get all that she wanted and deserved out of life, even if that meant leaving his own.