Hushed Willows if i get home before daylight, i just might get some sleep tonight

She cannot remember the last time she’d seen @Silas. The last thing she said to him. She did, once. She remembered for a long while until she didn’t. One day, she realizes the memory is gone, replaced by horror and torment, even often hidden from the sun.
 
She does not enjoy the sun, now.
 
Black fur, patchy and sparse, burns beneath the morning sun. Scarred legs, a swollen ankle, haven’t stopped running.
 
Qilaq remembers the sun filtering in as a whole circle instead of a guarding silhouette, investigating to find not a soul is there. It takes five minutes and thirteen seconds to run and for days does the poor girl run (or perhaps what feels like days), and it is not until she finds the willows that she slows down. Running at night seems easier, used to the dark—her eyes hurt in the sun—and as the sky brightens in the morning, she uses the willows for cover. Thin legs tremble, rail thin form barely supported as she slows. Her heart pounds in her ears and she knows she has to keep going, keep running, but there is no ounce of energy left and collapses in a heap.
 
A few hours later, she’s able to stand but cannot run. Every joint in her body aches. Her stomach has long since passed reminding her she’s hungry. When she hears the roar of a waterfall, her course alters and she finds the source. The journey is blocked from her memory as she struggles to remember point a to point b. All she needs is to get as far away as possible, no matter what she do.
 
Her head lowers and she drinks. And drinks. She drinks until her stomach protests. She remembers this moment. She’s been here before. As soon as she turns, she regurgitates all the water onto the ground and splashes her feet. Looking up, she sees the opening behind the water and without drinking again, steps closer. Her legs won’t last much longer but she’s stuck, afraid to step behind the water, into the opening but unable to stay in the opening. Qilaq squints against the sun as it begins to lower, searching the rest of her surroundings frantically for another source. Just a few more hours, she decides, and finds a nook of stone to the right of the opening and there she curls up, tucks herself as far away from view as possible, and tries for a fitful at best sleep.

She has been able to hear the waterfall for miles but has not yet visited it; the morning has been too full of border-marking and cache-making (menial tasks, really) to pay it the attention she desires.  Once she has decided she has had her fill of chores, night-time has rolled around and she breaks from her duties to meander over to the beautiful cascading waterfall.

Sunspire had one just like it, she remembers.  She'd often found solace there in a nook behind the falls.

Fate would have it that as Seabreeze approaches to see if this one also has a nook, a dark blot is tucked there behind and to the right of the waterfall; first glance led her to believe it was Lily, or perhaps Delight, and she approaches with friendly countenance.  It is not until she is up close to the sleeping form that she realizes this is not one of her friends, and she backs away, eyes wide.  Oh.

Qilaq stirs in her sleep every so often but it is never long enough for her to remain, pushed to exhaustion she is forced to snooze a little longer. It is not until the sun starts to descend that she feels closer to the surface. The sun warms her dark coat—what’s left of it—and heats the exposed skin, darkened in pigment from abuse.
 
She is not so close to the surface that she wakes for another’s approach. The waterfall has become background noise, blocking out most sound (a poor choice on her part, but exhaustion clouds her mind), that she jumps in fright when the single word is spoken. Her heart launches into her throat and her silver eyes widen in panic, pupils blown.
 
“No, no, no, no,” she mumbles, and continues to mumble, as she frantically gets to her feet. Tired legs struggle to keep her supported, nails digging into the ground (several claws missing between all four feet), and surges forward. The stranger does not back up in time and she clips her in the shoulder, stumbling to the ground and clacking her teeth together. Blood pools in her mouth, sending her heart into overdrive, and her body fights against escape.

In the moment it took for Seabreeze to notice the stranger they have woken up.  She tries to step back and offer space, but the figure stands.  Seabreeze only has time to notice the quaking of Qilaq's limbs before the dark girl is making a move to run.  

They knock together, bone against bone, and the figure falters.  When the light hits, she can see the scalloped edge of the girl's ribcage rise and fall in frantic measure, the tattered edge of her ears faltering to the side.  Hey, she says gently, taking a step back, Hey, it's okay, you're okay here.

She can smell blood, and she doesn't know if it's her imagination or if she can hear the girl's thin limbs clattering together, a bag of bones.  I can help you.

When she cannot get her legs to function, she hunkers down—Hey.—her ears fall back against her head and she lowers her muzzle to the ground. Hey, it’s okay. She can’t hear her. Qilaq breathes heavily, licking at her lips and smearing blood across her muzzle. Her yellowed teeth are briefly coated red, opening her mouth to pant, torn between pain and anxiety all bundled into one. Years of ache have been compressed into her small body and she knows this is it. They’ve found her.
 
I can help you, says a soft voice. Her skin twitches as a horse pestered by flies with each word, tightening her eyes together. It is a joke. They are joking with her. Qilaq does not try to move, waiting for the lash of claw and teeth for her mistake. Death would be too merciful a punishment.
 
The longer she waits, however, nothing happens. The wolf that spoke to her is still there but she cannot figure out where she is. Her panicked breathing has shifted from erratic to labored and she slowly opens her eyes. The sky is a few shades bluer. The stranger is not in front of her, or to the slight left or right, and she knows she’ll have to move to find out where she really is, but far too scared to find out.

The girl does not run — or perhaps she cannot run.  To Seabreeze, right now, it is all the same.  She takes one tentative step closer but remains aware of the girl's personal space.  Her ears move.  Her breath slows.  She is listening.

My name is Seabreeze, and you're in a sanctuary.  We just moved here... I'm sorry to intrude on your home.  I can help you, your wounds.  What is your name?

If she could shuffle away, she would. Instead, she only leans in the direction opposite of Seabreeze’s approach. Her ears twitch, listening to what she says, but she is unable to understand it. It doesn’t sound right. It’s a joke. They’re playing a joke. They’ll get her to believe it and then they’ll reveal the joke. Ha ha.
 
She closes her eyes again, her head jerks back and forth, refusing to believe it.
 
“N-not home,” she says, shakily. “Not real,” she mumbles between her paws.

It's real, she says evenly, even if it's not home.  I'm real.  She didn't know if the girl was hallucinating; she didn't know everything Qilaq had been through.  She didn't know — at least, not in this moment — the danger that Qilaq's presence brought the Sanctuary.  All she knew was that Qilaq needed help.

Stay here, she says gently, though she seems to leave no room for negotiaton in her tone.  She doesn't think the girl can run anyway.  Just on the other side of the falls were some herbs that could help; there was some mint to soothe the ache in her mouth, and some various plants that could help with her wounds.

Seabreeze gathered them and placed herself in front of Qilaq again, first offering some of the mint.  Watch me, she says, trying to get the girl to open her eyes as she splits the plants in half.  We will take everything together.

It’s real.  Is it? No, no, she’s lying. Her voice is so soft, though, (so used to the gruff and angry and foreign) that maybe, maybe it’s real. None of them could sound like this.
 
Even when she leaves, Qilaq does not move. She makes one attempt but only half of her limbs work and she tilts awkwardly to the side. Her hips shift and she leans, allowing some comfort as she waits, but only so she can think of something else. Something else has to explain everything and she’ll be snapped back to the hell she’s been living for…
 
She stops and thinks of Silas and the last thing she remembers. Her eyes scrunch up, fighting back in the new pain in her eyes. The other woman is back a moment later and she flinches when she speaks, feeling her settle in front of her—which causes her to awkwardly pull away—and slowly open her eyes. She is better focused and her heart skips a beat to see the tones of pale and brown in her fur. It is not the same ruddy, ugly black she is used to seeing—when she can see—but her voice seems to match.
 
Qilaq is quiet for a long time, looking down at the plant and then back at the tip of Seabreeze’s snout and stares.

Hesitance is not outright refusal, and Seabreeze is not willing to give up on Qilaq just yet.  She swipes half of one pile and half of the other to further intergrate the plant, and then rearranges them to where they each have half of each pile she'd made.  Seeking Qilaq's gaze, she begins to speak.  Everything together, she re-iterates, taking one slow mouthful of the cooling mint.  Her tongue tingles.  It will be cold, to help your mouth feel better.

Seabreeze works with what she brought, splitting everything, and silver eyes look between the two. She takes part of one of herbs and Qilaq looks down at what’s in front of her and stares at it for several long seconds. When she licks her lips, she irritates the wound she created and bleeds again, warm metallic lining her mouth. She’d known a few things about herbs, once, but she can’t identify what’s in front of her. Maybe it’s familiar but she struggles to pull it from reserve.
 
Still, she is frozen, and waits a while to see what happens to the other before she even considers taking it. Her nose twitches a little and she sniffs at it, though she doesn’t get close enough to take it.

She reclines onto her haunches and waits.  She still expects resistance but finds none, and after some time she takes another mouthful of the peppermint — this time from Qilaq's pile — and consumes it.  Her mouth tingles and she hopes that if she can persuade the dark girl to eat, that it won't frighten her.  She had warned that it would be cold, but what if she still somehow thought it was poisoned?

It's safe, she reiterates idly, passing the time.  Will you let me look over your wounds?

The other woman eats another piece and Qilaq watches, a little more eagerly. If she eats it, it’s okay but that would mean this is real, and not part of their game. She waits even longer before getting closer, as if something might happen to the woman despite the reassurances. The request, however, is met with resistance and she shakes her head no first, but she takes a piece of peppermint and chews on it. It’s gross at first and she stretches out her mouth, licking at the room of her mouth, but sooner her tongue tingles too. Qilaq’s eyes widen a little and she looks up for Seabreeze for reassurance.

She shakes her head no but takes a mouthful anyway, and as she chews Seabreeze watches to make sure it actually goes down.  She's right, it doesn't taste very good, but compared to other medicinal herbs it isn't too bad.  

She meets the girl's argent eyes with tenderness, and nods.  It's cold.  It will numb your mouth for a bit, so it doesn't hurt so much.  Mine is numb, too.  As if to punctuate this her words begin to come out a little garbled, as if her tongue is too dumb to move around.  Good?

Qilaq nods her head dumbly. She kinda remembers hearing that but she looks away, licking at the roof of her mouth thought she feels nothing but pressure. It’s the most different she’s felt in months and she can’t stop flicking her tongue. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, or what’s supposed to happen next, and she doesn’t know what she’s allowed to want and what’s going to hurt her again. She swallows a lump in her throat that doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere.
 
“I can, I can leave if I can to?” she says, hoarse and carefully, she tries the theory and slowly sits up.

She doesn't want Qilaq to leave.  She's too hurt and malnourished, and the world is cruel and cold and dangerous.  Still, If you want to, she says gently, Though I do think you'd be better off if you let me take a look at those wounds.  Her eyes graze the scalloped edge of a tattered ear, the ridge and relief of her ribs.  What is your name?

Even if she wanted to leave, Qilaq knows she can’t. It took all the energy she had just to sit up and looking at Seabreeze, listening to her words, she feels… somewhat better. A little voice stays in the back of her mind, telling her all this is some elaborate play so that she never forgets so that when it does happen, she can “feign” surprise.
 
She doesn’t make any further attempt to leave, taking and holding a deep breath for a long moment, before releasing a heavy sigh. “Qilaq.”

It's a name unlike any other she's heard before.  Qilaq.  Key-lack.  It's almost musical, so different from her own and Olive and Delight that it seems like something out of a storybook.  She wonders what happened to her to bring her to this sorry state, but she will not press.  

It's nice to mee you, Qilaq.  You're welcome to stay here with us.  We're a sanctuary.  We will take care of you.

She looks up, then, taking a moment to acknowledge her surroundings. The willows are new to her, and the rushing of the waterfall isn’t in her recent memory, and it’s hardly desolate as she once imagined. “It’s not—” she starts, ears falling back. She’s not used to talking and now her mouth feels weird, so she isn’t sure what she wants to say. Siler eyes remain on the trees, the waterfall background noise in the distance. Silas spoke of the willows, she remembers and closes her eyes. “Okay,” she murmurs, and lowers her front half back to the ground.

She wasn't quite sure how to handle this anymore.  It's not what?  Her tone was gentle and encouraging, though she did not understand.  Are you sure?

She makes to move closer, keeping her body tucked low to the ground.

Qilaq shakes her head, then freezes when she gets closer. She tells herself she’s only helping but she flinches when she’s too close. “I don’t want to go back,” she says, frantically, inhaling sharply and putting space between them. “I want to go home,” she murmurs and sinks further into the ground. If Seabreeze gets close, she only flinches but does not pull away, and despite the terror she allows the woman to look her over.

Her wounds are many, aching and great, and Seabreeze imagines she can feel them alongside her.  She has no clue the horrors that Qilaq has been put through, but her heart hurts for the young girl.

Where is home? she asks as she chews some herb, inspecting some of her various wounds.

Where is home?
 
Qilaq closes her eyes and tries to think. It is hard to fill her mind with anything but darkness and torment and hunger. Where is home?  She flinches whenever Seabreeze gets too close, and jerks when or if she’s touched and whatever effort she has left is spent staying still so she can look. Her wounds are numerous, and severe, and she doesn’t know where to start; she simply wants them better, wants to be able to think clearly, wants… god, where is home?
 
Tears well up in her eyes and she shakes her head, trying to get rid of the angry and static making a ruckus in her head. Words of a foreign tongue are all she can hear for a few seconds and she jerks again, warding off the healer from helping anymore, unable to take too much at once.
 
“I don’t know,” she murmurs quietly into the ground, scrunching up her eyes and burying her face beneath her paws.

She pulls back as Qilaq jerks.  There is no urgency to tend to the wounds right this second, as long as they get done sometime relatively soon.  She doesn't feel the need to push it.  There is something in side of her that wants to dry the girl's tears, but she can't bring herself forth and risk losing the progress she has made.  You don't have to, is all she says in response.  Seabreeze has known no home for a long time, but she hopes that this can be it.

She’d been shoved around, beaten, bitten, starved, and more over a number of months that each time Seabreeze pulls away, she notices. She doesn’t react to it, or acknowledge it outside a sigh of relief, but it’s there and she’s thankful. Qilaq doesn’t know how to put it into words, or how to express it with anything she has left, but maybe, maybe this is real. Maybe Seabreeze isn’t part of some game the horde plays with her when their bored, or because she escaped, and maybe she’s finally free from them.
 
Her claws dig into her muzzle. Not enough to hurt, but the pressure pushes everything away for a moment. The reassurance that she doesn’t have to know where home is doesn’t do much; she wants it more than anything and wants Silas by her side and knows she can’t it. No matter how hard she pushes, how hard she closes her eyes, or how long she simply stays in one space, it doesn’t change she is not home with him or anyone else she once knew. Their faces and names are such a blur at this point she doesn’t know if she’ll even remember them.
 
“M’tired,” she mumbles after a long pause but doesn’t move. She wants to be left alone, wants to find somewhere to sleep where she won’t be found—even from Seabreeze—but none of this reaches her tongue.