Swiftcurrent Creek Why can't I get just one kiss

The journey back to the valley was one she made in silence. 

It was too late by the time Cygnet realized that she had grabbed hold of the pelt, not the girl who had come to slay Mae in her sleep. She'd grabbed it with every ounce of the ferocity she could muster, and had shaken it- and after one savage shake, she realized that the skin had no blood. The skin was not connected to muscle, did not cover bone, and that her teeth caused no pain. It was nothing more than a pelt- but more significant yet was the fact that it was a seal skin. 

The very same one that Sobeille had brought, and had offered as a gift. 

And Sobeille- the masked viper- struck at Cygnet. Before the pelt hit the ground it would be spattered with blood. She shrieked in agony as her world went dark, consumed with a pain so keen that it only persisted a moment and then the shock set in. She shook her head again, sending droplets of blood and goo flying from beneath her furrowed brow. A glob of jelly slid down her cheek, clinging to her fur, finding its way past the corner of her mouth an unheard [i]plop on the seal skin. 

On the right side of her face brow to cheekbone was one clean cut, puncturing deep when it reached the soft orb of her eye. From jaw to upper lip, two lines; a signature scrawled in skin and tissue that could belong to no other, but Sobeille. 

On the left side- from a blow meant purely to deflect- one single line, trailing from her brow and disappearing just at her cheekbone. Blood poured into her eye. The flesh swelled. Blindness ensued- temporary, but terrifying. 

Whatever had happened afterwards, she wasn't sure. She ambled back, swayed slightly, and then dropped to the ground.[/i]

"Mae?" The one question she asked as she was being treated. She was told that Mae would stay in Moonglow- and that she would be returned to the creek. Separated. Cygnet loathed the Moonwoman, but was too groggy from medicines and too vulnerable to lash out. She could only hope that Mae might be alright; and that she might find the precious little Ajei that had started all of this, and smother her in her sleep.

She requested the seal skin- the one Sobeille had brought- and carried it across her shoulders the entire journey home. She did not clean the blood from it. She couldn't see it, anyway- not with her right eye completely eviscerated and her left beginning to heal shut. 

She kept herself as sharp as possible, only taking medicines when the fever made her weak. Once she arrived back in her den, she slept for three entire days- waking only when prompted, to drink or eat. 

On the fourth day, she emerged from her den to feel the sunlight on her shoulders. 

She heard a twig snap; her ears perked, and she felt the skin pull tight on her face where the flesh healed. 

Through a tiny gap in the eyelids that had begun to heal together, she saw a glimmer of light; the first sign that she might one day see again.

Whenever I hear or see the lyrics for that song I always think of Ethan Hawke in the Reality Bites movie.

She emerged—asleep for days—and a swallow of relief was given before the man rose quickly to his paws, the carcass of a beaver enveloped in strong jaws before he deposited it close to her. “Cygnet,” he murmured, ears laid back, eyes roving over her—checking without touching—feeling the surge of anger swell in him once more that this had been done.

No true reason had been fully offered or given—suspicions were certainly heavy in the air, and a certain regret clung to him that he had not made the trespassing girl suffer just a little bit more for what she had done… Had not driven his fangs down to her own face—to take her sight. What she might have done to Cygnet.

Made her live in the same world that Mae suffered through.

Reason had been on his side in that moment, even if his heart felt it a betrayal. A trial to be had, maybe—he did not know. First, he needed his girls to heal.

And then their justice would come to them, in one form or another.

it’s such a banger! :D

She licked her lips and settled when she heard Akavir’s voice. Hyper-vigilant now, she felt prickly and insecure, as if the darkness that had been the cover for Sobeille’s attack had never truly been lifted. She got a glimpse of the hell that Mae lived on a day to day basis- and began to feel the darkness fuel an ancient hatred deep within her. 

And yet she remained quiet. Her fur, unkempt, remained bristled about her hackles as if she expected to be pounced at any second, and her best bet was to be as silent as possible so she might hear the footfalls of an attacker.

The realization of her own paranoia made her shudder. She trembled for a moment, lips tightening and pulling at the healing wounds. Her molars, now permanently revealed on the right side where the flesh was torn, felt dry, and tugged at the inside of her mouth. She licked her lips again.

Justice. She croaked, softly. We get justice.

Justice.

They would have it.

But he still couldn’t figure out the why of it all—and grimly, he didn’t think Cygnet would be ready to discuss it. Had this sea wolf targeted them out of unbidden malice? The arguments Arric had over them over a year ago seemed too far removed to be reasoning. Had they known her before?

His eyes studied her features with halting anger—knowing that if the girl who had done this had not been so young, he might have extended more damage to her for even the attempt she had made.

If it had been within his jurisdiction… his lands, or near them…

He just might have.

“We get justice,” he reiterated to her, the cold of his own words a promise. “But we should get you to Arlette or Etienne to give you another check in.”

She could feel the warmth in her wounds. Anger bubbled just below the surface- but weakened as she was, and vulnerable, she did not feel capable of delivering justice, not like this. 

Akavir was right to suggest that she see a healer. He mentioned the name of the saline man- a stranger to her, and she scowled. She swallowed hard. And when she spoke, her voice cracked. 

Arlette.

The woman had once been a mother to her; and she remembered, even vaguely, being held, being hugged, and being loved. Oddly enough, she felt herself wanting for such things and it made something heavy sit in her throat. She would have to swallow her pride and let the medicine woman heal her; but if it meant saving whatever amount of vision she might have, it would be worth it. 

Word from Mae? She asked, next.

There was a certain sense of relief to know Cygnet’s relationship with Arlette was not so far gone yet that she would trust the woman with her care. With a quiet nod, he began to lead the way, allowing a slower pace for her aching muscles and vision—a shoulder, should she need it.

There was a stretch of silence—there always was with Cygnet, but he didn’t mind—but then she asked about Mae, and he paused, if only for a spare second. “No word yet. She’s still healing in Moonglow, under Kukutux’s more experienced care,” he sighed, not sure if she recalled that bit, or if her days had been nothing but a blur of adrenaline, pain and exhaustion. “I will go back to get her soon. Hopefully, she can travel by then.”

Hopefully, by then, more answers could also be provided.

Kukutux. 

Cygnet's expression would have soured if only it was not so painful to scowl. She could barely see where they were going, and fumbled now and again with her footing. She bristled, keenly aware with every move she made just how vulnerable she was. Accompanied with the spar she'd lost to Sven, she'd left the pack hunt feeling ashamed with her own inadequacy. Now she couldn't even walk straight; she had to tilt her head, and point the barely-opened eye before her, canting her other ear back so she might have a chance at protecting her blind side. 

The injustice of it all made her seethe. She would be like this forever because of that kelp-licker.

She tripped over a branch, and whirled on it, growling and snapping her jaws- only to clack them shut several times, unsuccessfully. FUCK! She shouted, teeth bared as she squinted this way and that for the offending stick- but everything was a blur. 

Everything save for the dark patch of fur that was Akavir, and it took all of her strength not to attack him just so that she could direct her anger somewhere. She could see him well enough to bite him, and the taste of blood might just-

no.

Squealing in frustration, she threw all of her energy into digging, furiously. She barked and yapped at the ground, an anxious creature with bottled-up energy that could only go one way. She tore at the ground with both paws, heedless of where she kicked the dirt though it was cold and tough. She felt the pull against her claws, and the muscles in her shoulders as she hit earth she could not dig through, woven together with a network of roots. Her claws raked against them, tore through some, but could not pull the earth apart anymore. She belted out a roar, and veered away from the divet in the ground, only to find herself jabbed in the chest by the same branch that had tripped her before. 

She grabbed the godforsaken stick and yanked it. She could not see it, but could tell by the rattling of dead leaves that it was a branch hewn from a tree by the wind- and was longer than the length of her body. The limb was no more than an inch in diameter at its end, but she clenched her teeth into it, and turned her head back toward Akavir, still breathing hard. She squeezed her jaws until it hurt, and when she finally opened them, the branch stuck for a moment before it fell out of her mouth. She pinned it down with a paw, and with her fit over, she flicked her short tail up, hunched her shoulders, and motioned for Akavir to continue leading the way.

They started to move to find Arlette—Akavir assuming his pace was okay, despite some stumbling as she adjusted. He came to an abrupt stop when the silver form in his peripheral vision tripped—and before he could determine what had happened, Cygnet was thrashing the air, scoring teeth to wind as if she herself were a tempest.

As jarring as the sight was to see her lose control—the man remained stalwart in that moment—stoically impassive upon the outside, knowing the pride she held was far more injured than the gash along her eye. She would overcome this—of that he was certain. But it would not be easily.

Her rage erupted in one foul word—echoing across the creek and stirring a flock of birds back up to the sky—the jolt sending them on their continued way to the warmer climate further south.

Earth shredded beneath her paws as she whirled—finally, the culprit branch clenched in her teeth—and only when he worried for the safety of her teeth did she finally relinquish her hold before asserting her will to continue with a quick motion.

His jaw worked in silence—wisely, he made no sound. Instead, the Mayfair turned, maintaining a casual pace and to ensure his shoulder and side barely grazed hers—quiet assurance that he had her—and only when they got closer to the dreaded garden did the man tip his muzzle back, calling for @Arlette to meet them.

It might have been better than leading Cygnet to the very vocal mini Arric beasts and having them drill her about her new look.