Big Salmon Lake Ordinary people, who make themselves extraordinary

Takes place after Wraen meets Fig and hears the news. Dated somewhere between 8th - 10th November. Tags for reference. @Bronco

When Wraen had heard about, what had happened to Maia during her absence, she had been speechless for a while and then felt need to sit down to collect herself. There is a certain number of shocks and revelations a person can take in a span of few days and at that point the old gal' had reached her limit. She was torn between travelling back to caldera straight away and waiting for @Arcturus's return. Surely his journey of self-enlightenment did not need to take that long. A day or two. He should be back, right?

This was the reason, why she had not departed immediately with @Figment, but set out a day later, taking a detour through the wilds, hoping to find tracks of her other friend. @Penn was out there somewhere too. She had no idea, where he was and what he was up to. Which was another straw on the already fragile camel's back called her common sense. So eventually she decided that both could very well take care of themselves and they would find her, if they wished to do it. On her way she was, hoping and trusting that Maia was as in good shape as she could be in her current situation and - better - among friends. 

What did not give her peace was the fact that she had been unaware of the dangers that lurked out in the wilds to the wolves, who travelled alone or in small groups. Hadn't she already been warned about a rogue pack afoot? Hadn't she dismissed this, based on a false belief that, if she had been safe for so long, then the gods would extend their courtesy? She remembered well, how her last soul-searching journey had ended - if they did not form a pack themselves, they would have to join another one out of necessity.

Pragmatic side of her knew that she would have to do it eventually. The emotional one resisted - she did not wish to return to the same routine that she had exercised over and over again. It was that had brought her to the same spot every single time in the past. At odds with people she had considered her friends. On her own with an uncertain future looming over the horizon. The bottomline? She was exhausted. As this realization hit, she stopped by a lake that was halfway to caldera, took a sip of drink and then lied down on the shores to rest.

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The route Bronco normally took for his patrol often took him on a detour toward the lake which he could see shimmering in the distance. While the water that flowed through the ravine in the Glen was fresh and cool, it was almost too cold- considering the fact that it came from the mountains. He, oddly enuogh, preferred the taste of standing water- perhaps something of a taste he'd acquired living in the Copse, which was sandwiched between a bog and a swamp. He also liked to visit the area where the river flowed from the north and met the lake, where the salmon often collected in the shallower water there- they too were delicious.

So when he caught Wraen's tracks leading from the forest to the lake he picked up his pace, and from a distance, he could spot her form on the ground at the lake's edge. He immediately emitted a low, rumbling and happy greeting- a sort of “Roo-roo-roo” with which a canine would greet their favourite human, after they'd been away for too long. His tail swung from side to side in low, heavy arcs as he approached, reaching forward to nuzzle her cheek as he flopped down onto the ground close by her side. He overlooked her tiredness, at least at first, given how pleased he was to see her again. For some reason, he'd been harbouring a sort of dread that it might be a while before he saw her again- so it came to him as an immense relief to find her so near his pack, and both alive and well.

Wraen had closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence for a while, until a familiar voice woke her from meditation and made her look up just, when her favourite "steam-train-engine" flopped down right next to her. She regarded his handsome and happy face and despite exhaustion smiled at him broadly. It was impossible to linger on the problems that haunted her mind, when Bronco was here. Her own personal ray of sun. 

"May I abuse your presence?" she asked with a cheeky smile, and without further introduction got to her feet and lied down right next to him so that her side was pressed against his. "You make a very good... heating element," she joked. "I am inclined to never let you go or I might steal that fluffy pelt of yours," she suggested.

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Bronco snorted. “Abuse my presence all you like,” He commented, before she even had a chance to explain. The idea that Wraen could ever be abusive in any capacity seemed ridiculous to him, so he was willing to take a chance and simply let her do whatever it was she intended to do- and as he'd expected, he was right. She was harmless. She simply wanted to use him as a body pillow and a heat source, and he knew that he was excellent at being both of those things. And with his current heartache regarding his fallout with Fennec, he was happy to find someone who wanted to snuggle up with him, so he shuffled in a bit closer, and placed his head upon her forepaws, so that she could rest her head on his neck where the fur was thick and soft.

He headed a heavy sigh. “At least someone wants me around,” He said softly, gazing off along the horizon, though his view was somewhat limited by the fact that his head was rsted upon Wraen's forepaws.

"It's their loss then," Wraen told, burying her muzzle in that thick fur of her friend and sighing happily. "Because now that I have you right here - I am not going to let you go," she pulled one of her forepaws from out under Bronco's chin and placed it on his muzzle possessively. "Paraphrasing that give your little finger to the devil - lend a hag your fur and she will skin you without remorse," she guffawed and yawned. 

"Jokes aside - what happened?" she asked. "Who do I need to turn into a frog or some creepy thing, huh? Who upset my personal pillow?"

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Feeling the comfortable weight of Wraen's head on the back of his neck made him relax, so he sighed, and licked his lips, content to just stay where he was and glean what he could of her positive energy so as to renew his soul, which felt positively drowned in frustrated, disappointed emotions. He didn't move, but simply looked up and back at her, from where she held his muzzle down momentarily, puzzling over what she said. Something about a devil's finger and a hag that would skin him? With her paw across his muzzle, he could do little but mutter, but still he made an attempt. “Rrr nrrr er hrrrg, Rrrrn,” He puffed through clamped lips, though he uttered a muted chortle afterwards. It wasn't likely that she'd understood him- but he'd spoken those words so often to her now, it seemed like there might be a chance that she received the message: “You're not a hag, Wraen.”

He didn't bother to reiterate his point because it seemed the two of them would never see eye to eye on that topic. But she settled against him and he pulled his muzzle out from under her paw again, and gently smoothed the fur down along her foreleg so that she might relax it, and allow him to rest his chin upon it again. When she spoke again, she didn't ask about what had happened to make him so glum, but about who had done it, and he heaved a soft sigh.

He didn't really want to openly admit to anyone that he'd fallen for Fennec, but out of all the wolves he could possibly tell, he felt incredibly comfortable with Wraen and he also knew that she wouldn't likely start a chain of gossip that could potentially reach Fennec again. Given the fact that Wraen was a wanderer, it wasn't like she would be likely to visit Moonspear or the Glen, and while she might pass by the Caldera where his relatives now lived, he still doubted that Wraen might pass on his news knowing that it was something he probably wanted kept fairly quiet. His hesitance to speak alone should have been enough of an indication to show just how little he wanted to talk about it.

“I....I dunno. I think...I think I liked....Someone,” Because it was still simply safer for him to be vague, if not for his own sake than Fennec's. “But I think I might've wrecked it, by accident,” He said. He was positively woebegone in having admitted that; he hated the fact that he'd been the cause of the den collapse, and the loss of all of Fennec's stored herbs, and that she apparently did not care whatsoever about how petrified he was of dens and enclosed spaces now. “It's kind of a long story, I guess,” He said, somewhat defeated. “And I probably just...Lost my chance.”

"A girl. Or a boy. Yeah... I know the kind of spell you are talking about. Horrible kind, horrible!" Wraen made a raspy hag-voice, as she said it, but could not keep the act together for long, because it put a strain on her vocal cords and instead of cackling, she began to laugh. "Sorry, friend," she said and nuzzled affectionately, whichever part of Bronco's head was within a comfortable reach.

"You might find it hard to believe, but I heard exact same words just recently. And... you know what? Despite, what that person assumed, all had not been lost yet," she thought about her conversation with Arcturus. She still did not feel so sure about, whether the outcome was that positive or that it would be an easy road ahead, but it had emphasized the necessity to be honest and talk about important things. 

"Why don't you tell your favourite aunt that long story of yours and then she will tell, if she should dress you up in sparkling charm and send off to woo that object of your interest, or should she turn you into a frog and declare that party is over," she suggested.

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“A girl.” He responded. He wasn't sure why Wraen had suggested that his interest might have been a boy- he thought he'd been fairly clear that this was someone that he'd had feelings for- but it didn't occur to him that Wraen was simply being considerate and inclusive, because he'd never really stopped to wonder if he'd ever potentially liked a boy. Perhaps those were thoughts for another day, and perhaps then it might surprise him- but now, he was simply slightly confused that Wraen had brought up the possibility at all, considering that he was fairly certain that both he- and therefore the rest of the world- knew that he liked women.

She was trying to reassure him by making light of the situation, but it didn't really help for her to play the part of a witch. He didn't want to hear about spells or tricks or anything like that, because he knew they couldn't help. So when she switched from her hag-voice and back into her usual voice, he relaxed slightly. She told him she'd seen this happen before, but like the stubborn youth he was, he didn't think it was at all possible that anyone else had been through what he'd been through. It was entirely impossible for someone else to have done what he'd done- nearly killing themselves in front of their cherished one, and in doing so, destroying the project they'd worked so hard on. And when he'd had a panic attack...She hadn't even cared enough to come and check on him to make sure that he was alright. She hadn't stuck around after the den had collapsed, either.

Maybe, whispered a tiny, unfamiliar voice. Maybe she just doesn't care if you're alive at all.

That thought made him wince, and he shrank a bit against Wraen's side. “There's no point.” Was all he could muster.

From Bronco's despondent tone alone Wraen knew that the matter was serious, even if she did not believe that all was as dramatic and glum as he had painted it to be. He was in a state of self-pity and she wondered, should she let him wallow there a little longer and be that sympathetic and supportive friend, who hands him a box of "Kleenex" and agrees that the world is unfair and girls are unjust, and then goes on a drunken spree through bars to end up at a police station for yelling "EFF THEM ALL" at top of their lungs at three in the morning. 

Or she could be a productive friend - especially, since it would a long time before she met Bronco again. Better solve his relationship troubles now rather than hear afterwards that the poor Romeo has done something stupid. "That won't do, chap," she freed herself from her friend, got to her feet and sat down, facing him eye to eye. "Firebirds did not raise you to be a coward or someone, who gives up easily," she reminded him gently, but with distinct firmness in her voice. "So you face that beast right now, while Wraen's here to back you up or let it eat you alive," she finished and you could tell that she was not going to let go. "I hope I do not have to remind you that in real life no Red Riding Hoods that have been swallowed whole have ever fled alive from the belly of the Big Bad wolf."

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To be fair, had Wraen offered to be the sort of friend who blindly sympathized with their miserable, self-pitying friend and took them out on a bender, he would have definitely ordered all of the girly drinks off the menu before insisting that they spend the rest of the night singing heartbreak songs at a dingy karaoke bar before passing out in a cab on the ride home. And who wouldn't want to be a part of that?!

Regardless, while it might have been what Bronco wanted, it probably wasn't what he actually needed, and fortunately for him, Wraen usually seemed to know which role to step into, and when she should do it. Unfortunately, he was not prepared just yet to be told to toughen up, and to admit that his problems weren't as overwhelming as he felt they were. Considering the fact that she didn't even know what'd happened, he felt it was a bit unfair of her to assume that his problems were, in fact, capable of being solved simply by talking about them. This wasn't the first time his heart had been broken- but he'd learned by this point that the more his heart got broken, the more it hurt.

He bristled slightly at the word 'coward,' though, and though it was Wraen who spoke it was Niamh whose voice he heard, and he felt a pang of shame. He didn't want to be a coward and he felt himself resenting Wraen a tiny bit for even calling him that. It felt like a betrayal; she was the one who accepted the fact that he didn't want to always be a big, strong fighter. She was the one who was supposed to allow him to be soft, gentle and caring. To hear her imply that he might be a coward wounded him. Like a stern nanny, she pulled away and straightened up, prompting him to answer her the way one might ask a child to fess up to a lie they'd told. But Bronco wasn't a child.

She referenced some sort of fairy tale and he rolled his eyes. “This isn't one of your stories, Wraen, stop....Treating me like I'm just a kid. I'm not.” Yes, one moment he had been more or less curled up at her feet the way a child might- but that was simply how he showed his affection. When he cared, he was all in, and didn't care how silly he might've looked. He was completely comfortable being used as a body pillow or a punchbag, if it made someone else feel better. He gritted his teeth together, and the betrayal showed in his gaze, though when he spoke, his voice was faint-

“And I'm not a coward.”

-and tinted with a hint of denial.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger," Wraen was a little taken aback by Bronco's sudden defensiveness to her words, where none had been meant as a personal insult, but apparently had sounded like such to her friend. She could have replied with a "you get treated the way you act", but that would lead to no good. She had stepped on thin ice and had to tread carefully, not to scare him away. 

"It takes great courage to face danger in a physical form, but it takes even more to challenge yourself," she explained. "And at the moment - wallowing in self-pity won't do you any good," she said. "I don't mean that, whatever troubles you is not important, but you have to take the next step and find a way to deal with it. See the facts, not the fiction your imagination has come up with."

"Besides - none of us is unique. Every trouble that happens to us sure as hell has happened to someone else too," Wraen reminded. "Therefore do not let yourself be devoured my melancholy," she told. "Tell me, what bothers you."

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He exhaled loudly when Wraen realized she'd pushed him in a direction she'd perhaps not anticipated. He knew his reaction had likely been unexpected, but at the same time, he wasn't a tame pet that could be cuddled and convinced that everything was going to be fine. Nor did he feel like he was the sort of star pupil who would always own up to his mistakes, or answer every question that was asked of him. He wasn't normally the type to hold grudges, but a wounded animal often regarded others through jaded lenses, and he'd taken her insult to heart, as it had fit into a wound which had been created long ago by his mother.

Wraen had always seemed to know the answer- but this time he felt some sort of disconnect. He couldn't relate to what she was saying, and felt that most of it was out of context given the fact that she didn't know what he was going through. Hell, he didn't even really know what he was going through- but he didn't like how it felt like Wraen was trying to make his problems seem like they were smaller than they were. Did she not know how this felt? How often was it that he came to her, miserable or hurt? He didn't think it was very often...So why was it, when he came to her feeling glum that she decided not to take him seriously? He wasn't in the right state to see that she was only trying to help without blowing his problems out of proportion.

He was sour now, and felt like he ought shut her out in response for having belittled his feelings. “Does it ever occur to you that maybe you don't know everything?” He asked bitterly. “And that maybe sometimes you should actually find out what's going on before you just start...Speculating, and making comments, like you know everything,” He didn't like talking to Wraen like this- but he also didn't like the fact that she'd leapt to several conclusions about the severity of his problems without even bothering to know what was going on first.

"I have never claimed I know everything," Wraen shook her head and tried not to let Bronco's grumpiness get to her. If she had survived him as an annoying little brat, she could stomach him now too, even if her more passionate self was already sharpening daggers and getting warmed up for a fight. "But I am not ignorant either, I try to find out, what is that I do not know. And you are not helping," she finished. 

"You read in my words, what is not there," she pointed out. "You assume I make fun of you or that I am not supportive enough, or that I meddle in business that is not my own - which, by the way is true," Wraen said. "But you invited me to the feast yourself," she sighed, suddenly looked very tired and worn-out.

"You know what - let's not argue. You are a grown-up - deal with your problems yourself and I will be on my way to deal with mine. My plate's full too," she told him and with an apologetic smile began to head towards caldera again.

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He anticipated already what would come next- a slew of excuses, which were meant to pacify him but it didn't work. Bullheaded, the youth stood while Wraen offered her explanations but she simply wasn't getting the point he wanted her to get, it seemed. She barely seemed to acknowledge that she didn't know everything- before she set out explaining more things that just made him shake his head, and turn his ears back to show that he wasn't willing to listen. It was a sorry affair, for him to turn the back of his ears to Wraen, but right now, it was all he could do to keep himself from trying to find something mean to say, just for the sake of getting her to shrink back a little, and maybe offer a real apology.

“Sounds fine with me. Goodbye, Wraen,” He said, when she offered him a way out. He turned swiftly and picked up a trot, the tip of his tail curled slightly in indignition- a sign that he did not intent to halt or falter should she call out after him again. Within moments, he was gone, taking the dark shadow of grief with him.