Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

There was a smoldering to Kirain that had appeared doused in her exhaustion. Wake saw now that there was a fire inside her that refused to be snuffed out, and he would be glad to feed it oxygen and shield the flames from rainfall.

Some do not survive such hurt, the snowtreader debated in that gentle, narcotic way he spoke. Some do lie down and never rise again. They wither until it is too late to recover, or they end it swiftly. Did she know the feeling of standing on the edge, overlooking the nothingness of open air, preparing to jump? Some choose not to follow their instincts. They disregard the Rhythm, and it is a craven thing to do. Cowards.

The choice to press on, to rise each day and do what needed to be done, was a brave thing in Wake’s mind, even if it was not in Kirain’s. It was a decision as much as it was impulse, and she had chosen right.

He filed away her virtues and knowledge, keen to see her proficiency expanded. I know of at least one pack with healers in their midst. I cannot guarantee they will share their wisdom, but I should like to introduce you, when you have gathered your strength.

Listening intently to Wake's words, Kirain paused at something. Rhythm? What do you mean by Rhythm? I know of balance, the give and take of life, the ebb and flow, an endless loop. But what is this Rhythm? Is it similar? Her curiosity was piqued by his comment. The word seemed so natural on his tongue, yet... there was something about it that tugged at her interest, like a distant melody waiting to be understood.

As their conversation lingered in her mind, she turned her attention back to the raccoon before her. A flicker of shame crossed her face as she realized how thoroughly she'd neglected the meal in favor of their exchange. She leaned down and resumed eating, her movements more deliberate now, hunger clawing its way to the surface as her stubbornness gave way. Each bite she chewed with renewed purpose, driven by the need to regain her strength, especially after Wake’s mention of other healers.

Between mouthfuls, she glanced up at him. I'd really like that, Wake. Even if they say no, it would be comforting to know others. She nodded slightly, as if to reassure herself, before returning her focus to the kill.

The Rhythm is nature, Wake said simply. It is our impulses. It is the thing that connects us all. It is fate itself. He did not get up to emphasize his words; the information relayed from his prone and relaxed position in a matter-of-fact manner.

You speak of it when you speak of balance. Life and death are also a part of the Rhythm, the missionary went on to explain. The turn of day and night, the passing of the seasons. From the weather, down to the prey we catch. To the things that prey on us. It is all the Rhythm of things, whether one accepts it or not.

Wake glanced to see her eat with more voraciousness than before, at last giving in to her hunger. You will meet who I know and meet many more on your own, he smiled. The valley is richly populated. Which would make for the most interesting existence, in his opinion. Why be a pack in isolation when they could instead make friends? And what were friends if not useful.

Her ears flicked subtly as she absorbed his explanation, realizing her beliefs aligned with his more closely than she expected, even if she had never named it the same way. Rhythm. It was a beautiful concept, one that made perfect sense when thought of as the natural beat of the world. Every whisper of the wind, every drop of rain, every thudding heartbeat was part of that endless, intricate cadence. The thought settled over her like a calming melody, as though life’s chaotic symphony had finally struck the right chord, resonating deep within her.

I look forward to it, truth be told, she admitted, her voice tinged with genuine interest. But where exactly are we going? You mention a valley, I’ve seen many in my time, but where have you decided to lay claim? She cocked her head to the side, her gaze steady on him, curiosity lighting up her features. I’ve not come across many places that are heavily populated.

Wake was glad for Kirain’s inquisitiveness; her mind very much alive even as her body quailed.

South of here, he explained, motioning with a turn of his ear. We will stay in the valley there, and also in the mountains. I will show you my vision of four adjoining lands, and we will claim one for each of the seasons if all things go to plan. There was still the matter of finding acceptance of their presence in the occupied valley and getting along with the other packs.

Summers in the mountains, a meadow in autumn, forests for the winters and springs. He breathed a deep sigh, though he was not merely content to live his fantasy in imagination only. Dark eyes searched Kirain’s expression as she ate, trying to ascertain her thoughts on his ambitions.

Four adjoining lands? And that won't interfere with the packs already there? The last thing we want is to trespass on claimed territory or draw more attention than necessary. Becoming a nuisance would only harm us, wouldn't it? She weighed his words carefully, turning them over in her mind as she picked at the last scraps of the raccoon. A nomadic life was all she'd known, so the concept of rotating between four main areas didn't seem particularly challenging.

But why there? What makes that place so certain in your mind? What's so special about it? She hoped her questions weren’t grating on him. She didn’t doubt his conviction, if anything, his certainty was reassuring, but she sought deeper understanding. If she was to support him fully, she needed to see the reasoning as clearly as he did.

Are you afraid? Wake smiled curiously, his gaze steadying on her face from his position in the dirt. He didn’t appear to be at all concerned with the valid things she asked, nor did the fact that she asked them seem to disturb him. There was an answer for all her questions in his vainglorious head, and he did not mind providing them.

He remained a river of water, ever-flowing and bending, yet persistent in its path.

We will be neighbors, not nuisances, he seemed to wink. I chose that place because there are many wolves there, this is what makes it special to me. I willnot lie and say that there will be no quandaries, or, or challenges, but conflict and competition are nothing to fear, my lady. They are better than isolation.

Wake did not think she would feel the same. It also occurred to him that she might even think he was looking for trouble when—surely—this could not be further from the truth. He did not see her as the type to conscript to the high-risk-high-reward lifestyle, so he thought he must also tell her why their time could be well spent:

Just imagine if we can get along with these others, he invited her to think about what they could gain from his choice of location rather than what they were risking. That would mean alliances for us, bonds which we will always need, but especially now while we build.

Future teachers, hunting partners, colleagues, friends, family, packmates, defenders, rivals, lovers... Sure, feuding, famine, and fallout were all possibilities, too, but there was also a universe where those things might not happen. However, only time would tell if this was to be Wake’s reality.

And if it is not for us, then it is not. There will always be elsewhere.

Was she afraid? The question lingered for a moment before she responded with a faint shake of her head. No, fear wasn’t what gripped her now. Instead, it was curiosity, a gentle but persistent pull that called to her. This place. This home. The word settled in her heart like a warm ember, and she found herself eager to explore its glow.

Kirain nodded thoughtfully as Wake spoke, recognizing the logic woven through his words. Yes, neighbors could be invaluable. And who wouldn’t want the chance to make more friends? In my original pack, we didn’t meet many strangers, but since we were nomadic, we occasionally crossed paths with others. When we could, we built alliances, bonds that supported them and us alike. That, I think, is a worthy goal.

To her, this wasn’t a risk; it was an opportunity. A chance to connect. Having been so long deprived of true connection, she welcomed the idea with open arms. Wake’s assurance, that they were here to coexist, not disrupt, resonated with her. She believed in their intentions, trusted their capacity to build something meaningful. And for the first time in what felt like forever, hope stirred within her.

Like the first snowflakes on bare skin, Kirain’s reservations melted into invisibility. Aglow with satisfaction, Wake’s own optimism rose alongside hers. The physical weakness he saw of her was becoming quickly overshadowed by flashes of her mental wealth and emotional resilience. He found himself wanting; wanting to know more about her; wanting to sift through her thoughts and feelings and history; wanting to find the thing that made her who she was– and then fashion that thing into the shape of himself.

Your birthpack was nomadic, you say? Wake mused, interested. You would make a fine Cardinal, if you miss roaming. (A beat to remember that she wouldn’t understand his meaning.) The Cardinal is the wolf who makes paths for the rest of the pack. It is their duty to direct scouts when we change territories, or conduct the scouting themselves. Make sure that there are no serious threats to our ranging. It is an honorable role in my culture.

It could also fit hand-in-glove with her healer’s ambitions, to scout and research her plants along the way, but it could just as easily be deemed a distraction to her studies if she desired only to tend to her medicinal wares and duties. Wake quietly wondered what she made of his statement.

He wondered if there was a sliver of ambition to her sweet, battered soul.

Yes, we were, she replied, her voice tinged with reflection. We didn’t linger. Most of our days were spent tracking prey, following their paths to survive. Her gaze grew distant, lost in memories of the countless miles she had trudged across the frozen expanse of her homeland.

A Cardinal? she repeated, a hint of curiosity in her tone. It’s an interesting title. Your culture is truly intriguing, though I’m not sure how well I fit into this role you describe.

Kirain paused, her thoughts churning. The fragments of his world he had shared only deepened her sense of disorientation. She needed to understand more, needed context to grasp the full weight of his words.

Tell me, she said finally, her eyes steady on his. What more can you share about your people?

Do not be so quick to doubt, Kirain, Wake laughed without mocking. His tail thumped against the ground. We shall see to it that your confidence is built up alongside your strength. Then it can be known if you are not properly suited to the role. One must try before knowing if something is fated for them or not.

She obviously knew herself better than he did, but the winterwolf was of the mind that only fate could truly dictate what someone was and could be. And he would likely always want to push others out of their comfort zone, especially because no zone was a discomfort to him.

He smiled when she asked for more. I can tell you everything, whatever you want to know and more, but not now. There is much to tell and only so many hours for rest. Let us sleep until sunrise or later, he stretched, languishing on the ground. I will hunt for you come morning and we can continue our talks as we make way for the southlands. Is this agreeable to you?

Kirain pouted slightly at her companion's suggestion, her curiosity tugging at her desire to learn more. Yet, once again, he was right. Rest would do them both good at this point. Her body ached with exhaustion, and her mind was weary. The excitement of making a friend had briefly distracted her from her troubles, offering her a fleeting sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages.

With a soft sigh, she replied, I suppose you're right. I did come here to rest, after all. Forgive my curiosity. Slowly, she rested her head on her paws, her gaze drifting to the willows swaying gently in the breeze. She wondered how quickly sleep might claim her now, no longer plagued by the relentless grip of fear and loneliness. For the first time in a long while, the world felt a little less heavy.

Though Wake could not help the sting of disappointment from cutting their conversation short, he would not see Kirain’s curiosity cowed, if he could help it. Never apologize for asking questions, he reassured the snowpelt. But rest first, interrogations later. I will reward your curiosity with as much knowledge as I can afford.

The winterwolf extended his limbs with a soft groan and then relaxed his body. He closed his eyes, yet almost rhythmically his ear not pressed against the ground would twitch, as if listening to their surroundings for danger.

And only when Kirain’s breath had at last softened to the tempo of sleep, did Wake allow himself to doze off after her.