Stone Circle We cannot be equal

Posting this now so I don’t forget tomorrow. Requesting just @Laurel for now, AW later.

Winter was unkind—his first spent entirely alone, save for the occasional, brief meeting of others. A great toll was taken on his body, his mind; muscle-wasted and staring blankly forward, he continued to wander, moving from one territory to the next. Every now and again he would sweep through the glade, his presence there common enough that the foxes knew his scent; some were bold enough to challenge him, seeing the lonesome beast as easy pickings in these trying times. Each encounter became more problematic than the last, their numbers increasing and their bodies hardly worn, whereas he was but a single wolf, broken down. The last encounter he barely escaped, fleeing the scene with various lacerations and bite wounds spread over the surface of his body.

And in time, some of those wounds healed, whereas others that were driven deeper seemed to fester, untreated. Infection gnawed at him just as viciously as the famine, forcing him to see things that weren’t there, things he didn’t want to see; shadows took shape and mocked him, some tempting him whilst others only taunted. He could not tell fact from fiction, nor left from right—he thought himself to be lost to the wildness until he swore he smelled familiarity.

By the time Alexander was in the outskirts of the pack lands, his feet were dragging and head hanging. Each step was slower than the last, more drawn out as he dragged his unwilling limbs through the snow. It wasn’t long before he was stopped and slumped over, thoroughly exhausted; he hardly managed to get out a mere bark or two before sinking to the ground fully, resting what he could as his sides heaved, desperately trying to catch his breath.

After watching one of their own wolves get kicked out mercilessly -- for reasons Laurel had already forgotten, but didn't seem to matter much to the story in her head -- Laurel felt afraid. She was anxious every day, feeling as though she might get thrown out every day. She didn't participate in pack things -- she hadn't since even before Indra's death, but now it was as if she had a valid excuse that would make others leave her the fuck alone even more -- and she didn't feel happy. Stress was there every day even despite Valette's sweet help when she had dragged Indra's body home. And it had increased tenfold since the banishment. Charles, @Louie and @Riley were mostly left to their own devices and if they would seek her attention they would often receive an 'mama's tired now, go play' or, if they were insistent, bared teeth or a snap of warning to make them go away.

She wanted to love them, but she kept thinking about it all. About the warning someone had brought to their borders and what it had done to her. The realisation that he had never let go of her, even if he had died beneath her and others' teeth. Vespera's banishment was linked so much to the unsafety he had made her feel, too, for it was her who had come and killed him when Indra and Laurel were barely managing with the pair of them. Laurel had never even managed to thank her for it. And now she was gone, kicked out as if she was worthless. If someone like that was worthless, then how long before they would get rid of Laurel, too?

Getting up and doing things was a struggle. Taking care of herself was not going too well, although she managed to eat and drink enough to keep herself going despite it all -- hunting proved the only thing that could make her calm for a little bit, forget about everything else as she chased and killed and tore apart and nourished.

After winter, Laurel knew what she must do. Knew that she was not safe here, and that she should break up with the pack before the pack would chase her out or kill her -- or worse. There was no trust after what she had seen, and she worried every day about what it would bring to her. She worried about what Greyback might do, and she feared that it might bring more grief along the lines of the abusive man that had brought her ugly children into the world. She had loved those children, but now that Indra was dead it was as if all of her hatred for them had been passed onto Laurel. She would exchange their lives for that of Indra in a heartbeat, if only she could.

Every day she walked the borders and the fields around Easthollow and considered leaving in smaller or bigger degrees, depending on the strength of the panic that coursed through her. She felt fear shake every bone in her body that day as she walked towards the borders. The thought of Greyback terrified her now, after she'd seen such anger on his face, after she'd seen how fast he could shift over like that. If he could shift like that on Vespera, then it was certain that Laurel would get hurt somewhere down the line.

It was there that she saw the slumped down form. She froze as she saw it, a stark reminder of how she found Indra, even though this form meant much less to her. But of all the forms in her life, he meant more to her than she would want to admit. She had loved him, once -- she knew it was him instantly -- but now she was not so sure she could anymore. But in a world where her own leader might hurt her or kill her or much, much worse, Xan's form in the snow was like a beacon of hope, shining and calling her. Xan! she called out as she raced towards him. She hoped he wasn't dead, like Indra. Mostly for selfish reasons. Mostly because she needed him -- to get out of here, to feel safe. She couldn't lose him again. Laurel didn't approach until she could touch him -- she stayed at a safe distance just in case he would try something. He was prone to trying things, after all.

Xan, you've gotta get up. You have to protect me. Ears folded back and tail drooped in desperation as she hoped that he could somehow muster the strength for it.

Laurel was not the first face he saw that day.

As he laid there, sides heaving with exhaustion and eyes barely open, staring off into the distance, someone else emerged from the whiteness around him. A pelt as pale as his own with eyes just as a red, if not more so, materialised from the snow itself; an apparition, taking shape and coming into focus with far more ease than the living were able—“Mommy?” he croaked, straining to raise his head and get a better look. Was she really there? She looked the same as the day their was family was torn apart, still young and vibrant—but worried? Why was she worried? He opened his mouth to call out to her but no sound came out. She turned to leave, movements slow—inviting, almost—and he wanted so desperately to get up and follow her. He willed his legs to move as he struggled to lift his head, mouth agape and tongue lolling out the side with pants.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get up. He couldn’t force his body to listen to him, and was once again made to watch after her retreating form, tears burning his eyes.

He tried to blink the tears away, the burn slowly turning into an unbearable sting as the cold air rushed past him. Pinching his eyes shut, he begged the wind to leave and, when it did, he was greeted again by the face of his mother. Only this time she was not alone: to her left stood Kendra, sweet Kendra, gone too soon from this world due to his failures. He couldn’t protect her—he promised he would keep her safe but never could, the first of many broken promises. He stared at her for a long moment, attention drawn away only by the approach of another to her right side; a pelt of fire with a rabbit’s tail.

“Indra?”

Her passing was still fresh, the image of her lifeless form fleeting through his mind. She was the most recent victim of his broken promises, the most recent of friends he let down. There was an ever-growing lump in his throat, turned rigid by her appearance. Would she be angry with him? She must be—they all must be angry, disappointed in him, by their lack of words. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to tell them—he needed to apologise, to beg for forgiveness from each and every one of them but, just as soon as they appeared, the trio vanished into thin air, leaving him alone again.

Alone—but not.

As his eyes began to close, exhaustion getting to him, he heard a voice—his name. He couldn’t tell if it was real or simply a trick of the mind, his conscious more eager than ever to play games with him. But then he heard it again, and this time there were more words to join it; he slowly opened his eyes, fighting the urge to drift off, only to meet the gaze of another he wronged. Part of him doubted she was truly there, writing her off as another ghost come back to haunt him—but he knew Laurel was still alive, he didn’t want to believe that she, too, was gone. “Laurel…?” he managed to whisper, uncertain. Was she really there? She looked like Laurel, she sounded like Laurel—she sounded like Laurel.

Out of everyone to visit him, she was the first to speak.

When she told him he needed to get up, that he needed to protect her, he could hardly do more than nod his head; a slow bobbing, eyes half-open but never leaving her—he didn’t want to look away, didn’t want to risk her disappearing like everyone else. And the longer he stared, the more convinced he became that she was real—and if she was truly there, asking that he protect her, he couldn’t ignore that. He couldn’t let her down again. Never again.

Struggling, and falling back down several times, Alexander used what little strength he had to push himself up to his feet—because Laurel told him to. He was wobbly, hardly able to maintain himself, but dared to take a step towards her anyway. He had to protect her. But as he raised up a paw to move in her direction, it wasn’t long before he was crumpling back to the ground. “Laurel,” he whimpered, trying once more to just stand; he found his legs and braced himself, spreading them wide enough to maintain what little balance he had without putting too great a strain on himself. “I’ll—” he cut himself off with a sharp intake of air. “—protect.”

He would do whatever she wanted of him, no matter the cost.

It was very clear that Xan could not even take care of himself, let alone others right then and there. At first he just stayed on the ground, and Laurel could do nothing but watch as he tried to get up and to be there for her. Eventually he struggled to his feet, but if Greyback did show up he was in no position to defend her. Laurel felt panicked, but maybe she should just keep him close -- for now -- perhaps she should just keep him here -- for now -- so that he could get strong, and then, when he had gathered his strength, they could leave together. She just wasn't too sure if she would be safe from Greyback 'til that day came.

Sh, it's okay, Laurel said, ears folding back as she saw him struggle out the words, the promises of protection he could not offer right now. She did not touch him, stayed a small distance in which she felt physically safe. Even despite his weakened state she was fearful; part of her expected this to be a show that he used to grasp her, thought that she might not be safe and that he would lunge and take what he wanted if she would get too close. She did not touch him, because she needed to feel safe.

You should get your strength back first, Laurel said to him. I would feel safer if you were here, too. She didn't want to be here at all. She could just walk past him and leave, cross the borders and not have the danger of Greyback looming behind her all the time. But there was something about Xan, just as there had always been. Through all of her bitter hatred for men, and through all of her experiences of the past, a part of Laurel still loved him, and it was difficult to let go of that part of her now. Even moreso now that he lay here defeated at the pack's borders. She closed her eyes, glanced behind him at the world, at freedom, and swallowed her fear a moment longer as she called for @Valette, asking her in her call to bring food. It wasn't difficult to assume that that was what Xan needed most right now.

Whether she approached or not, he couldn’t truly tell; things were blurry, her face coming in and out of focus. He was exhausted and hungry, sick and hurting—his body wanted so desperately to just sink to the ground and stay there but his mind simply wouldn’t let it. Laurel was there and he needed to protect her—he needed to keep her safe, he couldn’t let her down, not again. But as she spoke he could only nod in response, whilst his hind end slowly sunk towards the ground until he was sitting; he remained upright, not letting himself fall entirely, but he couldn’t stay standing any longer.

“’m sorry…” he muttered, repeating the phrase once or twice before quieting again. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a second, just took a short nap, he would awake feeling better; somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that wasn’t how life worked. But he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, lids slowly drifting shut—then snapped back open as she called for his sister, startled back into consciousness. Blinking, his vision slowly came back into focus, gaze trained on her. He wanted to reach out to her, just rest his head against her own and assure himself she wasn’t going to leave, but his body refused to move. Remaining where he sat, he nodded slowly, only then realising that she told him he needed to regain his strength.

Yeah, she was right. How could he keep her safe without his strength? “Tired…” he mumbled, head hanging. He knew she called for his sister—he was at Easthollow, wasn’t he? He couldn’t remember now—and he found himself wondering if she might let him sleep. If she just watched over Laurel for a few minutes, he could sleep and recharge, then be ready to take over the shift; the infection-inspired delirium took over, at last, filling his head with impossible ideas.

Valette heard the call from Laurel. She had given the female more space so she could mourn the loss of her sister. Now she was calling for her, Valette was curious as to what she would be calling about. The most curious thing about it was to bring food. Valette obeyed, as it seemed that Laurel wouldn't call for this if it wasn't serious. The female made a detour and went to one of the caches before Valette moved to the borders with a piece of bison meat in her jaws.

When she came upon the borders she instantly recognized the body on the floor. It made her thing of her father and his wise words. Valette felt a bit bitter after last time she spoke with her brother but now it seemed he clearly needed help. Valette approached and placed the meat down. She was confused to see Laurel at Xan's side. "I thought you didn't want to see him," she commented, hence why she and her bother had fought. Because she would allow Xan on her grounds when two females of her pack didn't want to see him. "What happened," she questioned.

Xan was clearly hopeless and wouldn't be able to help her in any way in his current state. Laurel stayed at about a wolf's distance, not touching him, while she waited awkwardly for Valette while he babbled and tried but failed a few times. Even despite his weakened state she could feel her body protest to being close to him. What if it was all a trick? What if he was just playing at something to get to her? What if she would get closer and he'd pounce? Laurel stayed away to stay safe, and she was relieved to see Valette approach from the distance, with some food like she'd asked. Hopefully it was only food that he needed.

At Valette's words, Laurel's ears folded back. She looked away, frowned and then said, her voice defensive and a bit snippy, I don't. A short pause. But I couldn't just let him die here. He needs food, and somewhere to recover. She didn't speak of any of her selfish motives, wanting to keep them away for now. Laurel wondered what Valette thought of Greyback's actions, and how she would think about Laurel's feeling of unsafety around her mate. Would she validate the feelings or would she speak for her mate and tell Laurel off? Laurel was too afraid to find out, and so she didn't mention any of it.

At the question, she rolled her shoulders in a shrug. I don't know. He's been babbling nonesense. If you want my guess, it's a lack of sustenance. She sure wouldn't want to be a wolf without a pack in these times, at least, and she guessed that's what got to him. But she couldn't be sure; maybe Xan himself could shed some light on the situation.

Before long, they were alone no longer—and Xan wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. But it made sense for her to be there, to answer the call of her packmate. This was her home, after all. “Desna?” he questioned nonetheless, glancing her way—and then back towards the ground. “Mom… she’s here.” Had she seen her, too? Maybe that was why she disappeared, to return to Desna. Yeah, that had to be what happened. But did that mean Indra and Kendra were both here, too? With Desna and Laurel? When he looked up again and both Desna and Laurel were still there, he felt glad—glad to know they wouldn’t leave, too. And then his eyes drifted towards the meat brought along, and he could hear his own stomach groan.

Alexander watched the meat, wondering if he might be able to steal a bite—but he couldn’t move any better now than he could before, forced to remain where he was as the two spoke; whatever they said fell on deaf ears, like distant thunder crashing in the distance. But the longer he stared at the meat, the less his stomach growled and the more it started to churn instead; feverish and ill from infection, his stomach was determined to ensure nothing entered it—and if anything did, he’d surely throw it back up again. But this he was yet to realise.

Valette watched her brother with confusion and mild disgust at how his body condition was. He looked bad. Laurel couldn't tell her much either. Valette was not very keen on having to deal with another mess. But, Xan was her brother and she was reminded of Kove who told her how much different his life would be if he had been with his sisters. Valette let out a long sigh.

Xan spoke and she shook her head. Still using her old name. She wasn't that person anymore. She was Valette but she let it slide. "Mother isn't here, Xan," she returned but she felt that it was useless. She looked at Laurel. "Lets get him over the border at least," she stated, since the male didn't really seem to want to eat for some reason. "Can you stand?," she asked. If not then they would have to drag him over the border.

Laurel looked numbly at the delirious Xan as he seemed to give up altogether. She felt greatly relieved that Valette was here now, who'd helped her before when Xan had wanted to bother her. Now he did not seem so dangerous, however, though Laurel still didn't feel much like touching him. But she could use him, like she had used him before, and this time she would be stronger -- this time she would not let him wrap her heart around his finger like he had before. This time, she was in control.

She felt her body stiffen when Valette said that they should get Xan over the border. How were they supposed to do that if he couldn't move himself? The thought of touching him frightened her. Come on, get up, Laurel barked in a commanding tone -- the most lively she'd been since Indra's death -- hoping that it would make him able to stand and walk by himself.

Mother isn’t here, came the harsh reality of life. But she was right, wasn’t she? Scarlett couldn’t be there—Scarlett was dead… right? He pinched his eyes shut, trying to concentrate; he remembered, dimly, his sister’s visit so long ago. When she delivered the news of their mother’s passing, when another strike was made against him by life itself. But if not her, who visited him on the borders? A ghost? Slowly and unknowingly, he shook his head, ridding himself of such thoughts. Ghosts aren’t real, some voice of reason echoed through his head. Ghosts aren’t real.

When words—a question and a command—were directed his way, his eyes snapped back open. Alexander nodded despite the uncertainty that lingered within his chest; truthfully, he knew not if he could stand and maintain it but he would at least try—he had to try. Struggling, he managed to push himself back up to his feet, a minor amount of energy regained from sitting there. And while he managed to maintain himself atop wobbly legs, the second he tried to take a step he stumbled again, only just barely catching and saving himself from falling. Once more his head hung, although this time it was less out of exhaustion and more out of shame—embarrassment, perhaps, ashamed of the state he allowed himself to fall into.

“I need…” He didn’t want to say it. He wasn’t supposed to say it, right? Alexander was meant to handle things on his own, or so he’d been telling himself for so long now. “I-I need help…” To move, to mend, to be himself again—to be the boy before his troubles.

Valette kept her eyes on her brother. He was a mess. Valette would opt to drag him over the border but Laurel took a different approach. She just barked at him to get up and the male seemed to listen and try to get to his feet. For a moment, Valette was certain he was going to fall over, but he managed to stay upright.

The male then spoke about needing help. Valette almost spit out a 'clearly' but held it in. He was family and she didn't want to be too judgmental to him. "We will help you," she spoke. "But you will behave and not bother Laurel," Valette warned him. She didn't need any other drama with the two of them. "Come I will take you to an empty den," she stated and motioned for him to follow her. She stayed close if he was going to stumble and needed her help.

It was immense relief to Laurel when Xan got up on his own. She breathed out and watched as he stood on shaky legs. He looked like he was going to fall over and a part of her felt sorry for him, but another part of her wanted him as far away as could be. But the threat of Greyback remained and Laurel decided that she needed him strong. If it was as he said -- if he loved her -- then he would do as she asked him to. For her.

Valette offered that they would help her, which once more was a conflicted thing for Laurel, and demanded he leave Laurel alone, at least. Valette then said she'd take him to an empty den where he could rest. Laurel knew she didn't need to stay close anymore, and that it might be hypocrite to want it, too. It was that thought alone that made her leave. Are you okay to handle it from here? she asked Valette, for if her Alpha asked her to stay and help support him if needed she would, but she hoped that she would not be asked this. The thought of his touch revulsed her still, so she would avoid it if she could.

Only if Valette would give permission to leave Laurel would leave to retreat on her own, where thoughts would start to swirl around in her head again.

last from me!

There was little more he could do than weakly nod his head, accepting the terms that came with their help. But to not bother her—was he meant to avoid her? How could he protect her if he could not be near to her? He opened his mouth to say something, to question the terms set in place, but ended up shutting it again before anything could come out; he was in no position to argue, this he understood well enough.

Alexander cast one last glance at Laurel when she spoke, then promptly averted his gaze. Focusing on the task of walking, he would wait to hear his sister’s response, then follow after her to the best of his abilities.

Valette nodded to Laurel. She could handle it from here, and seeing that last time the female didn't want to see Xan she figured that if she would make Laurel stay that she wasn't going to be so happy about it. Besides, perhaps it was good to have a moment alone with her brother, even though he had not much energy to talk it seemed. "Yes, you are free to leave," she spoke and then focussed on Xan. Leading him to a den for him to sleep and rest. Hopefully, he would recover quickly.

- END -