Ankyra Sound Once you had a hook and ladder up into the headless night

AW, inside the Grotto

Raleska didn't know how many days she had spent down in this dark hole. Miraculously and through the aid of several strangers (and one alleged aokkatti), Raleska was still alive.

Her children were still alive.

She knew some time had passed, enough that she ought to look down on her babies and feel a stirring of immense fondness.. but, she felt nothing for them.

Nothing but fear and guilt.

If she had not nearly died, if she was not still so weak, she would have just left them there. It seemed wrong to do so now, after Stryx's, Surya's, Kaertok's and Sugar Glider's vigilance in keeping them earthside. Still, Raleska wanted little to do with them and only tolerated them because she was unable to leave just yet.

Soon, she might be right enough to travel. Movement was still painful, but no longer unbearable; she could stand for small periods of time and while her balance and vision still seemed compromised, she was ambulatory and restless.

One thing (or several) still troubled Raleska.. Who had been there during the birth..? Who had separated membrane and caul, who had pulled the babes aside and placed them by her breast..? She remembered only snatches, and each time she tried to recall it she was seized with terror -- for surely, surely it could not be possible.

Thus far, life had been rather bleak for Raleska's little daughter. She excelled in what was expected of a newborn: nursing, snoozing, crying, all bodily functions. She grew like a little weed and soon her senses would better develop. All was well enough, yet there was something missing.

No love or affection ever came for her, this child without a name. She was tended to as needed, of course, but not with any real compassion from her birth-giver. Unaware of how her mother suffered throughout the delivery of she and her brother, the hooded babe quietly craved Raleska's unwavering attention. As the days ticked by so did her yearning for this strengthen, though she'd learned early that no amount of wailing would yield results.

She bundled close to her littermate at the stirring of their dam and, on sensing her provider's anxiety, she could feel it ripple run through her little body. The pup mewled softly, uncertain, and shifted to bury her stubby charcoal snout into the pudge of her companion's neck.

Some things were much better in theory than in practice. The open road appealed to Sugar immensely, yet it was also very lonely. That was harder on her than she'd anticipated, particularly after her parents' deaths. It didn't help that she hadn't found a single trace of her brother. Day after day passed without any sign of him or anyone, leaving the yearling feeling adrift and more than a little bereft.

In her desperation for a little company after the solitude stretched on too long, Sugar retraced her steps back toward the sound. She had no doubt Stryx and the others were taking care of Raleska, that she and the pups were in good hands. This house call was much more about fellowship than medicine, though she showed up with a spray of various herbs in her mouth nonetheless.

She placed them gently at her feet where she paused about a dozen yards from the new mother. "Hey," she greeted softly, "it's Raleska, right?" Sugar wondered if the she-wolf remembered her at all. Just in case, she didn't move any closer just yet. "How are you feeling?"

*makes some assumptions*

He probably should have gone back to Legion, back to Arbiter. But until he was certain Raleska was going to be okay, he had hung about close by, hunting for her on occasion, making sure things were alright. When she was able to stand, although certainly not ready to travel, Kaertok knew that his time here was coming to an end. The decision was a hard one, but he knew it was the right one. Arbiter carried his children, and he owed them his presence and guidance.

The Tartok returned with a fat rabbit he had caught earlier that morning, only to find the striped wolf not far from the grotto's opening. Sugar Glider wasn't a threat, but Kaertok was still wary of her. He cast her a glance and a curt nod before delivering the rabbit to Raleska. He hadn't heard the question the striped wolf had asked, but that wasn't why he was here.

I am returning to Legion, he said, leaving no room for argument (not that he thought Raleska was the type to beg him to stay, although that would have been flattering). She knew where he was, and even though he now knew where she was (and were Rusalka was), he doubted he would follow her there. He paused for a moment, awaiting any final words from her. If there were none, he would depart and be on his way. Back to Arbiter, back to Jomyo, back to Legion.

Raleska's ears turned towards the nameless cub as it mewled; almost mindlessly, she repositioned both of the babes where they could be both comfortable and easily seen. It was more than a week since their birth, and still, she could not bring herself to love them -- but at least she had not yet left them behind.

Her gaze instinctively listened as she heard the crunch of scree underfoot. Sugar's outline cut through the Grotto's tunnel, various herbs held in her jaws. Raleska owed a great deal to these wolves -- she was immensely lucky -- but still, she felt bitterness knife her. Would it have been better if she had just been left alone to die?

She nodded quietly at Sugar Glider's query, realizing if the healer had shared her name she forgot. "Yes. I forgot your name." Her tone was slightly stuffy, slightly ashamed -- for Raleska hated feeling or looking stupid. "Thank you for.." Her voice hitched; "everything. You and everyone else."

Cue everyone else - or, specifically Kaertok. Raleska was tormented by her feelings on the matter. On the one hand, he had left her and left her again (and now he was leaving her again) -- on the other, her life was uniquely balanced on his shoulders and she was not unaware of that.

If she was not so proud, she might have begged Kaertok to stay. Aokkatti or not, his life was implicitly bound to hers -- but Raleska could not endure the grief that would be him rejecting her after she debased herself enough to beg. And so, stupidly, her mouth remained clamped shut from cajoling ministrations. Her brow darkened at the prospect of him going somewhere else: if she ever needed him again, who knew if he would come?

"Goodbye." Her tone was bitterly sad. Not even Raleska, ice queen extraordinaire, could hide the fact that she was a living, breathing thing full of emotion and hurt. Her tone softened as she reiterated: "Good luck."

She smiled softly and replied, "You can call me Sugar. And it's Stryx, Kaertok and—well, I didn't catch his name—who did most of the saving." She ducked her head, snatched up the greens and crept closer. The yearling set them down again, nosing them toward Raleska, before retreating about a yard away and taking a seat.

Just as she settled on her haunches, Kaertok arrived with food and a wary glance in her direction. Sugar nodded her head but said nothing, letting the two exchange a farewell. There was certainly some tension there, though she remained silent and did her best to focus on the squirming puppies.

He took his leave after a moment, at which time Sugar's black eyes drifted up to Raleska's face. "He mentioned you're from a pack called Rusalka. I'd be happy to take you there, when you're ready."

Sugar. Raleska vowed to remember it this time; she grimaced as a flare of pain ran up her backside, a reminder that she was not out of the woods yet. When she opened her eyes, she saw Sugar had placed the plants near her. Any query she had about their purpose was halted by Kaertok's departure from the den.

It was strange how one person could light up a room, and then steal all that brightness away the moment they left. The den felt as if it were suddenly doused in darkness.

She remained bitterly quiet until Kaertok's form was fully out of sight and hearing. It wasn't fair. She didn't understand how he could come and go into her life and not see the waves he left in his wake; next time she saw him, would it truly be a good thing..? Or would he just leave her, again and again and again, until she finally wised up?

She shoved these thoughts down deep, redirecting her attention to the medic and the bundle of leaves near her feet. "Really?" She was surprised by the yearling's continued generosity. "I mean," She didn't want to sound ungrateful as she was anything but -- "I think I'd need the help.. so I really appreciate it. I don't know when they would be ready, though." Her attention fell to the children at her side. How early was too early to move them, and was she really fit to move at all? "I think I need a bit more time too. It still really hurts. What do I do with these plants?"

Raleska seemed skeptical of the offer, though Sugar didn't fault her for that. "Aye, really, it's my pleasure. And there's no rush. We'll go whenever you feel up to it." She was in no particular hurry to get back out on the lonely road. She did want to track down Penn and Fennec still, though she was needed here and honestly appreciated the company.

"You eat them," came the medic's answer. "There's a mix here. Some will help with the pain, others will promote milk production. They're not going to taste very good, so maybe we could stuff them inside this rabbit..." She pointed a little white toe at the hare Kaertok had left.

For her own selfish reasons, Raleska hoped 'whenever she felt like it' was sooner rather than later. The den was becoming claustrophobic, and she was exhausted dealing with children. The sooner she got to Rusalka, the better.

It was a remarkably immature way of feeling, but Raleska could not bring herself to find joy in her current situation. For a spell she was silent, though her gaze fell to the unsavory bundle of herbs she was not exactly keen on eating. All the same, she knew it was rude (and stupid) to turn them down. Gulping, Raleska's eyes landed on the hare and she nodded. "Maybe it'd be better like that. Do you want some of it first?" She didn't know how much time Sugar or Stryx had to hunt, and it felt only right to offer it considering she owed them a great deal more than a mealy hare.

"No," came her immediate reply. How could she take food meant for the ailing Raleska? In any case, she'd eaten just a few hours before. "It's all yours. Here," she added, plucking up the greens one last time and carrying them over to the hare. She studied it for a moment, debating the best way to put them inside the rabbit, and ended up unceremoniously shoving them into its anus.

Finished with that peculiar task, Sugar grasped the carcass by the head and dragged it closer to Raleska, laying it out at her feet. She then withdrew to her earlier post a few feet away, dropping to a sit before sliding forward onto her belly. She would happily keep Raleska company for as long as she needed.

"Do you have names for them?" she caught herself wondering after a few moments.

Feeling even less hungry after she had seen where the herbs had ended up, Raleska offered a thin smile. It was incredibly nice of Sugar to make sure her needs were met, but that did nothing to keep her stomach from rolling.

She took the hare gingerly, eating with as much gusto as someone dining on rat stew: after a while, her sense of taste seemed to fade. Feeling a buck in her stomach, Raleska paused and placed a paw on the remains of the hare as if to still the stirring of her uncomfortable appetite.

Did she have names..? The query rocked her from her thoughts of misery, and she looked at the children by her side. "No." There was a hint of shame in her voice, and maybe resignation. She had no idea what to call them, and darkly, hoped she would never have to name them.

"No," came the simple and rather listless answer. Sugar's eyes cut to the woman's face, noting the queasy air about her. That was pretty par for the course, given her condition. Some of the herbs would help settle her stomach, so hopefully she would manage to get it all down the hatch.

"I like the idea of naming children after important figures in one's life," Sugar mused aloud, thinking of Bat's and Tegan's offspring. "Is there anyone you could name them after?" She paused and then said, not without a melancholic note, "If not, you could call them Elwood and Finley. They were the best wolves I ever knew."

Within a moment, her gaze dropped and she suddenly felt her cheeks warm. She realized it was a silly and sentimental thing to have said to Raleska, who didn't know Sugar's late parents at all. So why would she want to call her children after them? "Sorry, that wasn't appropriate," she murmured and lapsed into silence, her thoughts now with her deceased mother and father.

Was there anyone she could name her wretches after?

Caiaphas? She shuddered, for the image of her mother come to earth again was harrowing and unreal. Kierkegaard? These names held a certain sacrosanctness to them, and she could not imagine either. That left very few wolves in Raleska's small circle, that day by day grew smaller. Rosalyn and Erzulie were still alive, and she hoped to never see the day that changed.

She bit her lower lip as Sugar's cheeks flushed, watching as the girl navigated something not all together unfamiliar to Raleska.

Grief.

"It's okay. Those are both nice names. Were they friends of yours?" Friends, or family -- someone important, either way.

Raleska reassured her and Sugar drew in a deep breath before replying, "Aye," and pausing. Should she elaborate or just leave it at that? She supposed she owed the woman an explanation for her off-the-wall suggestion. "They were my parents. They passed away recently."

Swallowing, she looked away toward the ocean, her own thoughtless words stirring up all sorts of forlorn feelings. She wanted to excuse herself but didn't want to just dip out on Raleska. Besides, she'd come here to escape loneliness, so it made no sense to retreat back into solitude.

"What about you?" she wondered suddenly, voice soft. "Do you have family?" Well, of course she did, though Sugar wondered if they were still part of her life. Perhaps they were back at Rusalka. Maybe they included the white male who'd just stopped by and left just as quickly.

Raleska was intimately familiar with grief; she watched as Sugar sighed and panned her gaze to the ocean. Raleska did the same, scanning the stormy coast with solemnity. It was revealed Sugar's parents had both died recently; Raleska winced and brought her gaze back to the healer with empathy.

"I'm sorry." She offered, knowing platitudes did nothing to distill sorrow. She did, however, know that grief was perhaps the deepest of communities. "My mom died recently, too. My dad died when I was puppy. My family's gone to the four winds. What happened? If.. if you want to talk about it."

Or, as it turned out, they were dead and gone, like Sugar's own family. She swallowed thickly when Raleska empathized with her losses, feeling tears prick at her eyes. Neither one of them was very old at all, so why were they both orphans?

"If I talk about it, I'll probably get emotional and I'd rather not right now," the yearling said almost apologetically, "but I'm sorry you're familiar with this grief, even if it's comforting, in a way, to know I'm not alone." She sniffed and swiped a paw at her pink nose, saying nothing more.

She did creep a little nearer to Raleska again, quiet but present, drifting in and out of her own thoughts as she continued keeping an eye on the injured new mother.

Wanna wrap this'un? :)

She understood how difficult it could be to talk about a loss, particularly when it was so fresh. With a single nod in acceptance, Raleska glanced away. She was unwilling to pressure the healer, or reopen wounds that might not have had a chance to heal.

"That's alright," she said, sounding like something of an old lady dancing delicately around a dangerous topic. "We can talk about other things. I was thinking of naming them Urchin and Splat." Raleska grinned, a rare sight on her solemn features. Hopefully the joke would open the way to less painful conversation, and the two might find kinship in far more grounding things than simply death.

Finding herself at ease among Sugar's company, Raleska kept throwing absolutely inane and inappropriate suggestions out there, until at last the joke had been spent and the two parted company.