Shadowwyn Moor Babe I'm Gonna Leave You

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Ever since his meeting with Relmyna and Wintersbane, Bruges had not been able to shake the feeling that he’d failed his sister, and that he ought simply just slink away and out of her life for good. She cared more for her damn pack than she did for her family now, or so it seemed. He’d gone with the intentions of joining the pack- and fortunate had landed him right in their lap- but he’d chickened out. There was something just plain wrong with those wolves...He’d had a premonition of something dark and painful, and had backed out of the whole ordeal before it could swallow him whole. Nothing seemed to hurt Bruges worse than shame, and only now had he begun to feel the toll that the wilds had taken on him all this time while he’d been travelling alone.

He’d been faring perfectly fine in the summer, but with his mind so intent on finding Ceara and bringing her back, he’d let his health slip. He was tired and famished and though he could hunt fine, the prey had somehow vanished, it seemed, and all he could find were the tiny trails left behind by mice and moles, and they were hardly enough. He’d managed to find a partially frozen carcass a few days ago, but little had been left on it aside from part of its thick hide and the bones in which the marrow had frozen and started to go off. Looking somewhat slimmer than he usually did, he continued his course, heading away from Blackfeather, but not exactly going back toward the Redhawks, either. He doubted very much that his sister would ever forgive him.

His path took him further north, past the ridge of mountains and where he had once met Ayla and her sisters. He was wandering further and further away from Blackfeather Woods, and realized fully well that he was also turning his back on the Redhawks who were further to the south. Snow fell softly as he made his way through the wetlands, hoping that his scent might be disguised by the wet and mud of the area and he might have better luck hunting down a rabbit or something along those lines. He couldn’t see anything, not through the thick flurries of snow that fell, but he would need to find a place to rest before the night hit. Being this far out in the open could be dangerous, even for a wolf.

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She felt terrible and looked just as bad; although the wolves of Lost Creek Hollow were more than hospitable, she was dreading what the future held for her.  She knew she wouldn't go home, at least not to stay — the Redhawks held nothing for her at this point.  Caiaphas had been dreadfully on-point with her words.  Ceara would never amount to anything if she stayed there.  Her efforts weren't respected, she got talked to like she was fucking stupid, and she couldn't get over Raven if she went back.  As a person, she desperately wanted to be something to someone.  There, she was just Colt's dumb little kid sister who couldn't talk right.

It was better if they just thought she was dead — that is, if they'd went looking for her at all.  Maybe it hadn't impacted them at all.  With winter coming, they couldn't exactly spare the resources to send their scouts out.  And it had been so long they were probably over her.  What a thought.

She trailed from the hollow into the moorlands to the south with little care for the noise she made or the predators she attracted.  Fuck it.  At this point, none of it mattered.  When her eyes trailed back up from her paws to the horizon was when she spied him and she stopped, dumbfounded.  He was the last person she had expected to or even wanted to see, but he was here now and there was absolutely no way he hadn't heard her dumb ass.  Great.

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Bruges had been mucking away in his pit of self-loathing for a few days now, but nothing could have shocked him out of it nearly as quickly or violently as when he looked up to see the vibrant pelt of Fire in the distance, also in the murky swamplands. He stood still and simply stared at her for some time, ears flicking back and forth, as though he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that was her- and that she was alive. He leaned forward to sniff the air, and took a few steps in her direction, but there was really no mistaking a wolf who looked like her- from the flame red colour of her pelt to those slight golden highlights, the white star on her forehead and the steely metal of her eyes. She didn’t smell quite as much of apples any more, but there was still the slightest hint there; either that, or his brain wanted her to smell that way so that was the way he interpreted it.

”Fire?” He asked, incredulously. She was supposed to be a captive at Blackfeather Woods! Wasn’t that what Niamh had thought? He shook his head and took a few steps toward her, hoping she wouldn’t just disappear before his eyes or worse- turn and run away from him. ”I thought you’d been kidnapped; they all think you’re being held captive by Blackfeather,” He said, and though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, there was no stopping the relief that flooded into his features. Those wolves had been creeptastic to the max. He was glad to see that she wasn’t with them at all. ”You’re safe,” He murmured, and stepped forward with the intention of nuzzling his muzzle into the fur of her ruff.

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Fire? he says as her legs tremble beneath her frame, brows furrowing as her lip flattens.  No, she wants to say, but she finds that she can't push back the lump in her throat or the dryness of her mouth.  It's like her voice has been stolen from her again, and she's powerless to do anything about it.  The man in front of her is more pitiful than the hale, handsome thing that'd wooed her beneath the apple trees.  She thinks if she looks at him right she might see the scallop of his ribs, that his cheekbones are just a little more pronounced than they should be.

He moves close and presses himself against her and she fights the urge to cry, to retch, and to run all at the same time.  Her breath comes faster now and she smashes her lids shut as she lets out a tight whine.  She hasn't been held like this since —

I was, she manages after a beat, tongue running against her dry lips, the roof of her mouth.  They held me until recently.  I was able to escape by coming through the mountain, but I'm on the wrong side.  I didn't want to cross again until I was healthy or — or until I didn't have to go alone.  Escaping doesn't mean anything if they get me again.  Despite having every intention to abandon the Redhawks, she wasn't going to do it without telling them first and she wouldn't be made out to be a deserter, even if that was the farthest thing from Bruges' mind.  Is that what you're doing out here?  Looking for me?  She's skeptical and hopeful in the same breath, and the clashing feelings make her nauseous.

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Finally she consents to his touch, and sinks against him. For her, he holds fast and stays rooted to his place, feathering his teeth through the fur at the back of her neck. He could feel the sadness creeping through her frame, and the relief she seemed to be denying herself- as though perhaps she felt ashamed about where she was. Bruges knew that feeling all too well- and up until a moment ago, he’d nearly been lost in it. He couldn’t believe his luck now, having found the wolf that the Redhawks were apparently losing their minds over. Or maybe it was just Niamh, blowing things out of proportion, as she almost always did. It was hard to tell with that girl, but what he could tell was how much this Fire girl was needed back home where she belonged.

So she’d managed to escape; part of him found that fact more attractive than relieving, but that was just because Bruges was a bit of a perv, to be honest. Still, he was glad and proud that Fire had managed to escape from the Blackthorn creeps, even though she’d gone in the wrong direction. She’d made the choice to stay where she was just in case they were out looking for her, and he nodded, but remained close to her as he spoke.

”I did. I had every intention of joining those creeps...Met two of them, not long ago,” He said. ”Some dark fellow with icy eyes, and a female who seemed to be in charge, though she doesn’t look well at all,” He admitted. He gritted his teeth for a moment; he hadn’t been able to go through with it. He hadn’t been able to join them because he was too much of a coward- but he was damned if he was going to say that. ”But something didn’t feel right. They seemed to….Want me to join them, too badly. Something was up, so I decided to just keep moving, and keep an eye out for any sign of you.” He said. ”They miss you a lot, back at the Plateau,” He said softly, warmly. If only someone missed him in the same way.

”So yes, that’s what I’m doing here. And I know where Blackthorn is, so we can avoid it completely on the way back. And I-” He said, but was suddenly cut off.

A low, purling growl caught his attention, and he looked up to see, in the falling snow, a thin, tawny outline that was moving toward them. It did not move like a wolf, and the tail that lashed from side to side behind it was far too long and lean to belong to any sort of canine. Bruges was completely unaware of the fact that both his sister and brother had had experiences fighting with a cougar- but just like them, he underestimated the creature. From this far away, as thin as it was, it looked as though it was smaller than him. And looking at the cougar front-on, seeing nothing more than its head, shoulders and front legs, it might have not looked like much. What he couldn’t see was the full length of its sinewy body trailing behind those front legs, and haunches that sported coiled, rippling muscles, hind feet with claws just as sharp as those on its front feet.

”Back off, kitty,” Bruges growled softly, a warning that actually did make the feline pause for a moment, and it seemed to crouch, as though it had been startled. But it began to stalk toward them again, something frighteningly assured in its step. Bruges knew better than to turn his back on a cat, especially when all it would take was six or seven bounds and the creature would be upon them. It closed in. Five bounds now.

He didn’t motion for Fire to get behind him as he figured the hot-headed girl might not listen. Roughly, he shouldered her aside and placed himself between the two, giving the canine by his side a stern look. He couldn’t keep his eye on both the cougar and Fire, so he turned his muzzle back to face the thread. ”Git out of here, cat,” He warned again, and once again the feline crouched, lashing its tail from side to side, considering the two wolves who stood before it with an eerily complacent gaze.

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So he was looking for her.  She didn't know how to feel or even how she should feel about it, although the sinking in her belly might pull her into the ground before she got to figure it out.  They were looking for her, they missed her, and how could she stay gone now?  That in itself is overwhelming, but the next bit of information causes the fear to ripple down her spine.  

The Blackfeathers were looking for her too.  It shouldn't surprise her but it certainly scared her.  I'm glad you didn't, she says softly, but she's unwilling to divulge what role that the two he'd spoken of had in her capture and subsequent imprisonment.  And then he's back onto how much the Redhawks miss her.  Guilt creeps into her though she's unwilling to let it take over her features, and how could he tell, anyway?  She's so full of fear and other mixed emotions that her face and body are giving all sorts of different signals.  Touch me, no wait, don't touch me, tell me more, I want to run away.

She doesn't have time to process that, either, because a growl pulls her from reality.  It's not canine but something else and her mind thinks ahead of her eyes, demon, but it isn't Nashoba or some other nightmare.  It's something all too real, and it's headed towards them.  Bruges crashes past her and she screams, DON'T, because even though she's never fought one herself she's heard of those who have — Morgan had nearly lost his life to one back in Redstone Canyon.

She pulls herself to his side and growls smooth and sinister, as if her pitiful frame would be any kind of frightening to a beast as magnificent as this.

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His standoff with the cougar was quiet at first, as the two regarded each other weighing out their options. Bruges didn’t seem to think much of the cat, particularly with the fact that it appeared to be shorter than him. Perhaps a juvenile, he thought, oblivious to the fact that the cat was merely crouching, its body coiled and ready to leap into action and startle him with the fact that it’s at least twice the size Bruges imagined it to be. Fire, however, couldn’t simply stay put, and as she moved to his side Bruges turned his head to bare his teeth at her and growl, but in moving, he left himself open, and vulnerable.

The cat let out an almost pre-emptive snarl, an odd sound that seemed to be stuck within its chest as it further crouched and then sprang forward, crossing the distance between its launching point and the wolves in four easy bounds. Bruges was able to notice its rapid approach by the second bound, and thrust his shoulder perhaps a bit too roughly against Fire’s, hoping to push her out of the way and thwart any plans she had of joining in the battle. He was able to take a step forward and rear up to leap, but the cat was already descending upon him before he could meet it in the air. For all the nimbleness that once gave Bruges an upper hand, it seemed in that dark and horrible moment that Bruges realized it would never be enough.

The cougar’s momentum pushed him back and slammed him into the ground on his side, forcing the wind out of him and nearly knocking him senseless. Panic caused him to snap back at the cougar whose fangs sank deep into the flesh of his near shoulder, and he managed to catch the cougar just above its shoulder. If only he’d reached a half a second earlier- he might have been able to cleave the cougar’s vein with his lower canine, but time was not on his side that day. Still, his bite was enough to make the cougar recoil and pull itself from his grip, leaving four long, deep marks where his fangs had torn. It lifted one heavy paw and smacked it heavily across the bridge of Bruges’ snout, causing the male to let out a high pitched cry of pain. It reached to bite him again, and even though stars danced before his vision, he managed to catch the cat by its jaw. Biting down, he did his best to hang on, sinking his two upper canines just below the cat’s lower lip while his two lower fangs curved into the soft and tender flesh just below his jawline. Caught like that, the cat tried to wheel backward, but was unable to free itself from Bruges’ grip. It wasn’t a place he could use to kill the cat- but he could at least keep it still.

”Grrt Errrrt!” He snarled at Fire, and the command lit a fire in his eyes. He wouldn’t have her stick around- not when the cougar could so easily kill them both. ”Rrrrdhrrrks!” He gritted, and shut his eyes as the cougar tried to shake its head this way and that in hopes of making him release. Then came the claws, raking down each of his shoulders. Like a stubborn dog with his jaws clenching more and more each second, he spared one more desparate, disparate look for Fire.

”Trlll Nvvvv.”

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There was something ironic about losing everything and everyone you love, finding someone, and losing them as well — in front of your very own eyes.

It was when he looked at her — he turned his head away from the threat and looked at her — that the ferocious cat set upon him, and she could feel herself screaming incoherent vowels but she couldn't hear it.  She couldn't hear anything.  She stood there useless as Bruges and the other, much larger predator threw each other around like ragdolls.  

You're a fucking coward, Ceara.  Tears spring to her eyes as her breath hitches, and all she knows is he's telling her to leave and there's so much blood.  'm sorry, she chokes, before she turns heel and bolts.  She doesn't need to be told again.  Hours later she'll come back to the scene, but for now?  Run.