Witch's Marsh Ascend

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all welcome! Somebody feel free to come in and save the baby!

Moss stole off into the night, treading through shallow waters that leapt hungrily at her heels. Wave after wave of  tension rippled through her flanks and kept her moving even when she stumbled on the wet rocks. Behind her she left nothing but a watery path that would continue on long after she was added through it.

Downstream she went, to where the water turned foul and putrid, to the marsh where the stench of swamp was too heavy for much else to gain attention. By this time, blood trickled down her legs freely to mingle with the yellowish waters. 

Overhead the dark sky was hot with lightning. Rain began to pour and with a scream, Moss began active labour, when she felt her sides clench and quiver. In a flash of crackling light, a child was born but she did not pause to investigate. The child was dark, still and cold and with a dark grimace she pushed the child, still encased in its birth sac, into the mire. 

It would not live to taste the dawn- nor would the following pup, whose breach birth caused Moss agony. She lurched to pull at whatever she could grab until the spongy marsh earth around her was black with blood. The second child she pulled free of herself, emitting a roar that would be lost in the thunder that rumbled overhead. She saw its mouth open and hastily pushed it into the marshy waters as well. It would drink a mouthful of bloody water and nothing else.

The two cursed children were pushed into the dark murk- never to be seen again.

Moss felt her own life drain- but she felt lighter now that the dark spawn within her had been purged. She had hoped that in conceiving them, she might draw the curse into them, and out of herself- and that she might live following their birth. But as the clouds began to part and she saw the first glint of the gloaming, she knew she would not move from her spot there, in the stinking marsh.

One more impulse overtook her waning frame and when she heard a mewling cry she summoned the last of her strength to reach around and destroy the third child- only to find temperance steadied her hand. She pulled the child close and cleaned it. A little girl- whose white fur was bloodstained and covered in mud. 

She had felt the evil pass with the two- and understood that this one would be her legacy. She tilted her head back to howl for help- and held the little one close. She would be offered one meal, all that Moss’s body could give her, and then would be pulled close to Moss’s giant chest where she might hear the last of her mother’s heartbeats. She would keep the child warm, until her body went cold. 

Her last thoughts were ones of hope; that she had saved the Teekon Wilds from the curse that had been placed on her- and that her newborn child might somehow beat the odds and survive.

an awful storm forced qiao inland. the to’lang spoke fervently of water; the spirits babbled madly in her ears. 

the scent of blood between petrichor and thick blood drew qiao. a still form rested around disturbed silt and rotting matter; her fur matted by heavy birth-blood. 

a child stirred somewhere within the creature’s chest and folded arms. qiao glanced around her, wary. 

the lifeblood of a child would be fantastic bloodprice to the overworld — but surely, other eyes watched the felled mother and her lost lamb.

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Screams. Muffled. Thunder roared. His ears were stung and slaughtered with the night. His nose could hardly track through. There were so many scents; deer, toad, swamp, death. Blood. His mouth opened to a part, the winds so strong he could hardly keep himself anchored down. Yet, like iron, he planted himself deeper, farther down the path he followed, sometimes lead astray by strange scents that he could not keep track of. There, he continued his follow through the waters and through the muck. It had not been his first time in such a place; the wetlands were a memory that one would not forget. He would not leave.

The fiery gaze of his eyes were blinded by rain. A deep growl emitted from his throat as frustration boiled in his chest. The weather was harsh. Cruel. And as he caught gentle glances ahead of him, shaky as they were as his eyes threatened to come to a close, it had been the sight of red that made his stomach form a pit. Red. Along the ground. Red. The water, discolored and dark. A woman on the ground, still and covered in a scent that struck his chest in a way so tender that he could not explain. And he could not explain what he was seeing, other than the hand that life gave.

And the reality of this earth, and what it would do.

And as he approached, still and careful, there was horror. Lifelessness. His breath came heavy out of his mouth. There as a chill in his throat and ice along his back. There was too much to feel, and all too much to see. If he felt anything, it went unsaid, but to the woman on the ground, the blood along her mouth and the life she had around her, the life that was gone and the... the..

He stared at her, the woman, as if waiting for her to speak. Looking for life with a steady, harsh stare. What had God done to her? And a stranger, who stood by, and as he came up, his eyes locked to them in a look so cold, he felt numb in the pit of the rain. Primal, cold eyes.

OOC: On mobile and tending to my baby—will edit ASAP

Eshe went to the marsh without any explanation.—it was almost like fate guided her there. She sprinted and followed the trail of blood and scent left by her pack mate. She splashed through mud and dirt, tiring herself as she went.

Nothing could have prepared her for the scene she came across. Moss lay dead, a stranger hovering over her, a child wriggling at her breast. Although she didn’t know what had transpired, Eshe didn’t care. “Leave—that child belongs to my pack—our pack,” she demanded as she rushed forward, feeling the need to protect the child—it was the creek’s child, after all.

She howled for her packmates as she charged forward, requesting backup.

Skippable!

For a very brief period, Cygnet finally experienced peace. Alone for a few moments, she’d finally felt calm, powerful, and healthy- no longer limited in space and nutrition. She did not long for the other siblings she had had, and she would forget their very existence within moments. 

From one world to another she was summoned, and in a manner rough and inexperienced she was handled and cleaned, pressed against a tear where the milk was sour. She was forced to drink, and consumed the first and last bits of her mother’s strained existence.

She felt the temperature begin to drop when the thudding of her life-giver’s heart stopped. The limbs that held her became stiff, and cooled. She mewled; hungry, cold, and wanting.

two figures materialized; one with hard, primal eyes — the other sending a howl curving out into the jagged clouds. 

qiao looked upon the fallen giant. blood rimed the dirt, and here the infant was baptized in the life-blood of its own mother. 

it was a powerful totem, and she must have it. 

her odds were not good against two. she ignored the command of the she-wolf, watching the duo at safe distance. the storms are too loud for howls to carry - go! i will watch her until you bring help. 

in that moment, the slithering dark obscured what qiao truly was; she appeared frail, old, and matronly — a powerful guise sharpened by years of preparation.

Mae is just a nosy kid, feel free to stop her or chomp her

She didn't like Eshe, but there was no way Mae was going to miss out on this. A call that urgent? Yeah, on her way, phone out, already recording.

Except when she got there, it smelled all wrong. Bad in a way she didn't understand. There were strangers — and a baby, and Moss, and she wasn't moving. Mae didn't know her except in passing, but her stomach clenched tightly all the same when she realized that something was very wrong with Moss.

She didn't listen to what Eshe said, or wait for anyone to get their bearings. Mae darted to Moss's side and cast a panicked look between her and the baby. Then back to the baby.

Mine.

She reached out to grab it, and if she was successful, would run for Swiftcurrent Creek.

Approach. Child or not, he felt anger. Protection fell down deep in his teeth, and at @Mae, he came to a fall with his feet and a snap in order to warn her back. His. Until he understood. Until he trusted. These thieves, perhaps murderers, approaching this newborn. Regardless, he could not see clearly. He saw a child, a dead mother, and her other two whelps that rested lifeless on the ground.

This frail one. The one he knew no name of, nor did he any here, but @Qiao. He felt trust in her. A child could not carry another child back.

It was today that Wren had woken up with a horrible feeling of something wrong. A sickly, dreadful intuition; twisting, burning.
When she'd emerged from her den, the Creek was quiet. Mostly, everyone had still been asleep; the sun not yet fully awake itself.
As much as she'd tried to ignore it, go about her early morning duties of checking the caches — Eshe's scent had begun to dissipate, lead away. The sky broiled with gray-blue stormclouds, hot and muggy as the stench of rain had begun to mingle with the ones of her fellow creekwolves.
She hadn't bothered to alert anyone before she left. Something isn't right.
Alone, she traverses the hills at first with Eshe in mind, and what she'd found instead was the scarlet trail of a woman she had never spoken to, but knew all the same — Moss. And shortly thereafter, there's the distress call that rings through the willows.
The marshland was somewhere she'd often refused to go near, but today, she wades through the muck as her throat threatens to close on itself. Blood, blood — death, black waters, a body, the bodies of tiny children, and—
Wren shrieks.
There's a crowd of warm bodies that now circle Moss's remains like vultures, and immediately the gamma is drawn to Eshe's side with stinging eyes and lips curled in an abhorrent snarl. Her voice comes in a hoarse garble of panic and shock and anger. There were two, two she did not recognize. Who the hell were either of these people?
Mae, little Mae; oh, brave child, she'd tried to snatch what appeared to be a newborn that clung to Moss's frame —
One of the strangers tries to stop her. Instinctively, Wren's teeth aim for the side of his neck.

apologies for all the retcons/changes, i started writing this post long before a bunch of stuff happened LOL

OOC: probably a ton of errors here—smack me if I need to correct anything. Willing to take damage with Eshe since she’s being ballsy

—

So much was going on at once, and it was difficult to keep her head straight. She was like a bull in a china shop; reckless and prone to injury if she didn’t keep her whits about her.

Bonario  motivated her—despite her waning energy—when he snapped at Mae. “Don’t you dare!” She shouted  and rushed to protect the children from the man.

As Wren aimed high, she went low, not caring what collateral damage she got in the meantime as she dove against the marshy ground.

If successful, she would grab the infant and begin to aggressively herd Mae back to the creek.

commotion. disorder. chaos. 

qiao stood in the fireshow of her own element. 

her gaze locked with the man’s for a second, sensing the wealth of trust in his eyes. 

but then a child! a child dove for the child — and the gladiator dove for her — and then two women fell upon him. 

bless them; any other day, qiao might have cheered to see the patriarchy so handily toppled. 

qiao took one careful step, then she bolted — attempting to snatch the hot potato baby right from mae’s teeth with zero care to the harm it may cause, a sharp shoulder aimed towards mae as she prepared to run.

Just as a note- the other pups will not be visible. They’ve been pushed down into the muck.

Feel free to powerplay the abduction of Cygnet- I would prefer that she lives but wherever she ends up is fine with me!

Numb to it all, the little child writhed in her mother’s stiffened limbs. She was oblivious to the jaws that snapped dangerously close, meant to ward off a thief. 

At the same time- she began to squall in earnest, little seagull cries that grew louder as she realized how uncomfortable she was. She kneaded her paws against her mother’s gray fur, and bawled again and again for food and warmth.

She felt herself lifted abruptly- and her cries became frantic and loud. Too rough! Too fast! She remained limp, little eyes squeezed shut, but with her little tongue sticking out she hollered with loud, raucous caws.

She knew more than need, now. She knew fear. She felt a brief flash of pain, and the continued ache but was so completely overwhelmed by all of it that she went into shock.

One of the strangers snapped at her. Instinctively she ducked away from his teeth, diving under him if she had to in order to get to the baby. Fear finally found her then, and Mae realized she was in way over her head — right around the time her mouth closed around slimy newborn baby fur. Ugh. Gross!

She darted away, clutching the baby. Freedom. For a moment.

Whether it was the sound of her movement or perhaps a glimpse of her shadow, Mae sensed the coyote in the heartbeat before the woman descended on her. She flinched hard, sending herself stumbling backward, and the woman's shoulder hit her and spun her right around. Somehow, she held on to the baby.

Was that blood she smelled?

Or maybe it was just Moss. She couldn't tell.

Mae ran. She shifted her tongue a little even as she did, panicked, thinking she must have bitten the baby. But there was no blood in her mouth. She didn't know what to do. So she just kept running, as fast as she could.

She didn't even know where.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: a bit of violence! Not too graphic i dont think but lmk if i need to make it lighter!

A child. He was not thinking straight. Newborn. He saw himself in it. He saw a small child, with no mother. No blood. No peace. The world had been as cruel to it as it had been to him. He was not willingly allowing any of them near, and it had only been Qiao he let close. Older, and he put trust that an older woman held the instincts a true mother should. Just as he could not pull away, despite everything in his character displaying a violent, untamed beast. He saw helplessness, a child, and he felt softness. Softness that would not be reflected amongst any of the scums around him. Child- pure, true, and no business in this criminals. These barbarians

In moments, a fight broke out after he warned off a little one.

And he made a bad decision.

When teeth clasped onto his neck, a nasty cry and malicious snarl left his throat. He saw red. He reared up, teeth open, bare and immediately thrashing with no coordination. It was very possible he'd end up tossing them on the ground at his current rate. He'd grab her face if he could, or her neck, her ears. All he wanted to do was grab her. Hurt her, despite his own pain. He was not seeing clearly and suddenly he could not hear either.

please let me know if any of this isn't okay! keeping semi vague!

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: violence, language

Wren, too, saw red.
It was the red that stained the blackened bogwater beneath them, the blood of her dead packmate that oozes up to her feet. The red of her father that surges within her, a commander's next of kin. Right now, she is his daughter.
She hadn't even the time to assure Mae and the newborn were alright, or that Eshe was out of the way before the heathen had struck her. A scorching pain made worse by the oilslick water that pours above, the saltmud flecks that coat her body as she tears into him with whatever she's got. Adrenaline, chemicals, instinct, birthright, emotion; everything had led up to this. All of it came crashing down in jaws that snap and clench and a body that ducks and weaves.
Throbbing, aching, oh God it hurts—
That baby belongs to Swiftcurrent fucking Creek! a shout through hideous snarls that scratch her throat, shaking limbs holding her upright. A plea, begging, praying that perhaps he had an inkling of sense in him; Its mother was our zeta, you fucking bastard!
But regardless of whether or not he answers, whether or not he listens — he had attacked her and lunged for Mae. An innocent. He had tried to steal a fucking baby.
For that, all of it, he deserved the wrath of God.
Eshe, go! it comes out as a command as her gaze scans for her packmate, thunder snarling overhead. Her wolves needed her, needed a figurehead when Akavir and Arric were not present. find-- find Mae and get her home and tell somebody to put the Creek on lockdown!
Him.
She makes another leap for his neck, scarlet blooming now across her face as she shakes, violently thrashing, a flurry of cat and mouse and son and daughter; she tears, gnashes; and all she can do is pray to every possible deity that she will bring him to justice.

OOC: Up to you what happens, Lauren! I’m down for injuries, just please nothing life threatening or super appearance altering. <3

—
Things weren’t panning out the way that she’d anticipated. Mae ran off with Cygnet, and Qiao followed in hot pursuit. As she watched everything happening, a fight broke out next to her, and Wren’s command. This gave her the adrenaline boost she needed to keep going.

“Mae!” Hoping her voice would be heard over the noise of fighting and thundering, she yelled. “I’m coming!”

Her suspicion of the older woman’s character had been spot on—but there wasn’t any time to pat herself on the back. Instead, she snarled and clicked her jaws. She had to do something drastic before they got hurt.

“Mae! Go find Arric at home!” The pack’s Beta seemed to be the only wolf she liked. She prayed that she would be heard as she mentally shifted gears to target the stranger.

“Stay away from my pack’s children, you bitch!” She roared in a very Mrs. Weasley-like manner, as she charged towards Qiao with her head bowed, aiming to ram into her side knock her off of her feet.

no dice; qiao was left holding but part of the babe between her teeth, while the girl regained her footing and darted off.

all of the sudden qiao's sense of upright was upended. the grey she-wolf swung upon her like a battering ram.

qiao landed with a throaty grunt, gathering her limbs underneath her with effort. breathless, she lurched in the opposite direction of mae, a cursory glance given to the man who now fought for his life.

qiao had no such chivalry. it was about her skin and her skin alone. outnumbered and in no position to brook quarter, qiao fled into the wildbrush with one small prize.

cygnet's tuft-ended tail.

Just going to tuck a conclusion onto this so it counts for the BWP <3 Thank you all for joining! This was so much more incredible than I could've ever hoped it would be!!

Cygnet was carried away quickly, jostled bout as the young wolf who had swooped in to save her brought her far away from the danger. Her bottom stung, and she could feel herself growing weaker as blood dripped from the stub of where her tail used to be. But she could not cry, and could not fuss- even catching her breath was difficult while being carried and fortunately, shock made the journey easier for her. 

Back in the mud, Moss' body was left, guarding the two children she had murdered silently and secretly. Innocent life trapped in a bog next to their mother, whose heart had not only been broken, but turned dark in her final days. 

And possessing a shred of that heart of darkness herself, Cygnet, the unintended heir, lived; and with her, some remainder of the curse her mother had sought to smother.