Fairspell Meadow I really hope that you find happiness

Many a time now had the moon cycled through, rising through the darkness and falling with the light. The shape one night was never the same as the next, always changing and then restarting, trapped in this constant state of starting anew. It was intriguing to watch, always settled back and observing. Different beings interpreted the changes in different ways but never Eros. No, for him it was the simple workings of nature, each phase driving him no differently than the last. Perhaps that is because he understood the need to change. After all, that was how growth worked, right? In the years that have passed since he’d delved into the great unknown, the once-lost boy had grown and learned a lot. His body was no longer that of a child, having matured into the physique of a father he’d never gotten the chance to meet. His mind, too, had developed in ways that suited a man of his standings, aged now and lacking the same overly-dependent ideals he’d once possessed.

He was all grown up now, and it was time to return home.

Eros travelled great lengths to return to the lands that had birthed him, traversing treacherous terrains and encountering a mixture of friendly and unfriendly faces. There were some that he had found it hard to part with, a few that had pulled at his heart, once upon a time. But in the end, he always moved on, searching for something that he doubted more and more each day whether or not he would ever find.

Then the outline of a distant range with peaks that struck some chord of familiarity deep within him came into sight. He was drawn to it immediately, knowing in his bones that it was home, it was where he was supposed to be. But then there came the rumbling, a quiver of the earth, and he was frozen in his tracks. Even from where he stood, he could see the descending shapes of boulders tumbling down, what were once rocky outcroppings now stripped from the mountain’s face by the ground’s rage. And it was then that he knew he could not return home, at least not yet. For now, the mountains were not safe and he could not risk injury, still out on his own.

Nearby there was a meadow, vines and stalks of what were once flowers strewn throughout it. He imagined it must be pretty during the warm season, vibrantly lit by wildflowers and blue skies. It was merely a ghost of its true self now, everything withered and the overall atmosphere dismal, at best. Even the sky overhead was dreary, further shrouding the meadow in a thick blanket of misery. Was this what the land had become in his time away? What had happened to cause this sorrow, and to cause the ground to shake with such ferocity that even the mountains feared its wrath? There were so many questions to be asked but no answers to be found, reminding Eros of the days of his youth—back when he knew nothing. Only now it was not his own doing, but the doing of forces beyond his comprehension. So he did the only thing he knew how to do and continued moving forward, carefully trotting through the meadow.

The meadow was pretty, and on any other occasion Sobek would have been thrilled to be visiting it. Visting being the chief word there; he'd seen it before, actually, and didn't think it was as special the second or third time around — and especially not after fleeing the dark forest which was his home. He had made frequent stops to peer over his shoulder at the dark smudges of the trees, watching as they retreated from him. Wishing desperately that they did not have to abandon the woods; it felt like he was losing more than just a home in that pivotal moment, and he had. Sobek's brother was gone. It didn't feel real, and he was too young to fully understand the permanence of it, each time he paused to look back at the smaller and smaller band of trees he found himself wishing Anansi was there with him. Alas, the meadow would have to be home for the forseeable future. The open ground proved to be easier to traverse and the danger of falling rocks or uprooted, collapsing trees had been nullified by Maegi's choice. He did not doubt his mother in any way—but he did miss the ghost who completed the trio of children.

Sobek felt a weight pressing on him from all sides despite the openness of the meadow; he did not know what to call the feeling of despair, did not know that his body was reacting to the recent losses without his control. He felt ill. He could not eat or sleep without thinking of Anansi, and even when he sought comfort from his twin sister, his silence was longer lasting than ever before. He did not bestow kisses as regularly nor cuddle up close to her; he did not speak to their mother when she came to check on them, nor allow himself the pleasure of Rowan's company when he felt despondent. A part of him did not want to besmirch Anansi's memory—unwilling to let himself move on so quickly or replace the ghost with a new brother, despite being so adamant that he befriend Rowan on earlier days. So he withdrew beyond the usual behaviors he oft displayed in the woods: the lurking, spying, creeping, and playing, had distilled in to monotonous action, utilized to fill his time but not much else. He found no joy in watching the adults scout the meadowland. The earth siezing beneath his paws no longer made him curious or afraid, he was emptied of all of that. And he took to roaming on his own, lurking on the side of the meadow that would give him a better view of his true home, as if he might spy Anansi somewhere nearby.

Today he was doing just that: but it was not Anansi he saw, but an older fellow. A shape that reminded him of Jakoul first-off but with different colors, a toasted complexion topped with a pale face. Even from a distance Sobek could tell this was some foreign entity; but he was unafraid, as blank in that moment as he was in every moment. His pace increased as he trailed after the stranger, keeping to the tallest of the grassy areas and trying to remain anonymous for as long as he could—which proved difficult, as Sobek had trained himself to lurk in Blackfeather's twists and turns in near-total darkness, not here where there was only stalks of dry grass. The stranger's path led towards the mountain so at some point Sobek slowed down to observe them too, enthralled by the sight of stones breaking from the soil and tumbling. It sounded so much like the destructive sound of the tree which had fallen upon his brother that he felt utterly gutted by the memory, and even shouted out to the roaming figure ahead without forethought: No! Anansi!!

cameoooo. Please skip; tag if acknowledged

She had become a hover parent, keeping close tabs on her dark twins. How could she not? One mishap and she could be down to one child. . .or perhaps none at all. That thought was most terrifying. 

So she followed Sobek at a distance, watching him approach the stranger. Her throat tightened and chest ached upon hearing his scream. . .

Would it ever be back to normal again?

sorry ‘bout the delay!

The lonesome nature of his journey was not unfamiliar; for the greatest amount of Eros’ life, he had spent his time alone and on the move. Nothing was permanent, as was a cruel lesson he’d been taught now years ago. In a matter of seconds, everything could change—a boy could be without his family, a man without his life. Nothing was meant to last forever and all life, when the time came, would meet death and rot in the same earth they thought would never betray them. He was accustomed to these thoughts, accustomed to always leaving those he once cared for behind before they could do the exact same thing to him. Hardly did he stay in tune with those around him, resulting in the boy pursuing him easily being missed, despite the new terrain he tried to hide within. The masked man kept walking, oblivious, until the shouting.

No! Anansi!

Although the mountain should have held his interest more so than a voice, Eros’ head whipped around to locate the source of the sound. It was not hard to spot the child once he took the time to actually look for him, and his eyes narrowed, then widened as he processed the words. No? Was that a name that followed it? He looked back in the direction of the landslide, scanning the scene briefly, then refocused his attention on Sobek and called out, “Why are you shouting? Was someone over there?” He couldn’t recall having seen any movement prior to the earth’s shaking, nothing that indicated another wolf, or even prey, was in the path of destruction. Either way, he wasn’t willing to help locate a body, not even for a kid.

The stonework clambored until it settled at the base of the hill, some dust scattering against the frigid wind in those last few moments. He did not see the stacks upon stacks of rolling stone and debris; for those fleeting moments Sobek saw the ruined tree, and the silhouette of the wolf he had been following looked more like the speck of tail wedged beneath. His eyes were wide and glossy with emotions that made no sense — and as he neared the stranger, heard that foreign voice, Sobek returned to reality, to the present. He saw the pale face and the ginger accents, knowing immediately he had been imaginging things. This wasn't his brother; that wasn't a tree uprooted.

N.. no, he murmured through gritted teeth, not realizing how tense he'd become in that vision. He thought he saw something move in the murky cloud of debris all the same, and stared at the settled rocks as if they might come to life; but when nothing moved except the slight undulation of the stranger's ribs as they continued to breathe (alive! they're alive!) Sobek took a deep breath and exhaled, watching a plume of his breath unfold from his snout.

He was... He was here, I saw him! Sobek protested as he advanced upon a pile of the stones, clamboring atop a segment of uneven tophography and scrambling when his too-short limbs couldn't carry him further; he kicked and lurched, moving bits of rock out from beneath his hind limbs as he went, so that the pile slid and he was lightly carried back down to where he started. There was nothing there but the gaping dark between the rocks and yet he stared in to it like it was a hollow, a portal to where his brother might be waiting.

Each step as it unfolded before him only led the male deeper into a state of confusion and worry for the sanity of the child. His question was answered with a quiet no, although it wasn’t the most convincing of replies; the child continued to stare and his tension was visible even from where Eros stood. He did not know who this boy was, who he thought he’d seen, or where those responsible for the kid might be. All he knew was that the boy, whoever he was, was not right. Part of him was curious, almost needing to get to know him to determine his use but, ultimately, he wouldn’t allow the time to do so. Eros came back for a reason and he wasn’t going to let himself get distracted from that task—not when the majority of his time away had been just that, distraction after distraction in the form of loosely sewn friendships.

He was here, I saw him!

Eros snapped back to reality himself, now watching as Sobek attempted to search for something—or was it someone? No, that couldn’t be right. “No one was there,” declared the phantom, advancing in an effort to discretely assess the area; he was certain there hadn’t been anyone in the path of the rocks, not even a rabbit. “There’s nothing there. You must have been imagining it.” Or the kid was batshit crazy, it was hard to tell at this point.

hopping in here to wrap up since Sobek is ded rip

Her heart caught in her throat as he began to scramble up the rocks. Without delay, she kicked into an awkward lope, heading toward him at near-top speed. Sobek! she called, voice piercing on the wind. By the time she got there, he'd already landed back onto the ground; she shepherded him away, murmuring gentle, wordless things before turning to the stranger.

Sorry, Maegi said, her face drawn with fright and exhaustion. Her breath came quick, the beating of her heart even quicker. We've had a rough time, lately. He's grieving. She bent to lick the crown of his head, smoothing the ruffled fur.

When both of them had gathered some semblance of composure, she walked with her son back to the meadow, speaking to him of death and all she could not entirely explain.