Moonspear ^______________^

Aya, Treepie exclaimed through her fourth yawn in as many minutes, I should get up, and began to do as much. If I take a nap now, I’ll be up half the night, she muttered as she stood tall on all fours, stretched her limbs and shook out her colorful coat.

She looked up and down the mountainside, pondering where to go. Pie decided to pick her way downhill, wondering if a snack might perk her up a little. She dropped her nose and began to sniff her way toward a nearby cache, tail twitching.

When her bladder suddenly demanded her immediate attention, Treepie sighed. She stepped up beside the nearest tree, looked around to make sure no one was watching, then lifted her leg. It was the only way she could avoid making a mess of herself.

She quickly finished her business, planted all four feet firmly on the ground, and turned her back on the tree’s wet patch. Pie wished she could forget the dysphoria just as easily, though it took its time dispelling as she continued picking her way down Moonspear.

Treepie! he called joyously, spotting her patchwork pelt amongst the foliage and making a beeline towards her. He reached to embrace her if she'd allow, pulling her close to his chest for a long moment before stepping back, grinning.

They'd had a fair bit of interaction since the big gathering, sure, but it had been a while since he'd found her one-on-one like this. 

How are you, kiddo? Killdeer asked, head tilted in query. Hangin' in there okay?

He hoped Tikaani had told her anything and everything about the great hunt, just like they had practiced. Perhaps next time, Treepie would be there right alongside them.

Someone shouted her name. Treepie promptly halted and looked every which way until she spotted Killdeer coming toward her. She bounded forward to meet him in the middle, bumping her head against his chin as he wrapped her in a hug. Her tail waved as they briefly embraced before each stepping back.

Yes, I’m good! Pie replied, eyes glimmering.

Momentary distaste with her anatomy aside, she was on an upswing lately. She had begun tackling her agoraphobia, little by little, following Towhee’s visit with Bushtit. If her little cousin could wander the world, she was determined to do the same. Besides, she had found it easy to venture into the nearby territories with him, too endeared by the pup to worry about much else.

Although, she continued in the next breath, smile faltering slightly, I guess one of Tiki’s litter mates disappeared, just like mine, not to mention the other departures of late. I don’t understand why they go away and do not return. And so many don’t even say goodbye.

She could never imagine doing such a thing—of course, she could hardly fathom leaving Moonspear at all—and Tiuttuk was troubled by these patterns. She didn’t want to pester anaa or Tiki with a thousand questions, in case it made them sad. Hopefully Killdeer didn’t mind, and perhaps he had some answers.

Killdeer looked upon the girl in sympathy as she spoke, nodding solemnly before replying, I know, Pie. It's tough when that happens. I went away from my pack when I was a kid—but I didn't have any brothers or sisters to say goodbye to.

Unfortunately, that was the way of it. Wolves came and went—even the young ones.

There's always a chance they'll come back, though, he went on, trying to infuse a little hope into the conversation. I did. Others have, too. They'll have their adventures and their fun, and then return home.

He sighed briefly, drawing her into a side hug with his foreleg as he continued. Speaking of adventures, Killdeer said, what have you been up to here, kiddo? I know you loved having Bushtit around. Maybe I can convince Gramma Towhee to stay longer next time.

She didn’t have to wonder what it was like to be an only child; with her litter mates in the wind, Tiuttuk knew exactly how it felt. Supposing she ever found the strength to venture far and wide, she would still make a point to tell everyone goodbye and promise to return. She wouldn’t leave anaa and the rest wondering.

Killdeer pointed out that wolves came and went all the time, with some eventually returning. Pie absently touched her lip as she thought about Pauk. Would he turn up one day? If he did, would they even recognize him? He was still a small boy in his sister’s memories. He’d been so young too—not unlike the recently wayward Nicte—and it was especially troubling when little ones went missing.

He tried to steer the conversation to lighter waters and she smiled, happy to follow suit. Her eyes grew bright at the mention of Towhee and Bushtit. Oh, how she loved that little baby boy! He would probably grow quite a lot by the next time she saw him, though hopefully it wouldn’t be very long before he and his mother darkened their doorstep again.

I wish they lived here, Treepie moaned through a grin. He’s so stinking cute, isn’t he? Aya, I hope anaang has more babies in the spring. I love them so much. I can’t wait to have some of my own someday too, she shared on a happy sigh.

He is, that, Killdeer agreed, and was about to jump in when Treepie waxed happily about her longing for babies one day.

God, she was still a baby herself! His baby, no less.

Hey, don't be growing up on me too fast, he jested, still smiling, but with a hint of worry there, too. Stick with being a big sister first. Your own kiddos will be here before you know it.

So had it been for himself. One moment, a roving boy; the next, (ostensibly) responsible father. Time did fly!

She preened over the title of “big sister.” She really couldn’t wait to spoil her mother’s next batch of babies, not to mention help Sialuk raise them properly. There were several amazing grownups on the mount—one of them stood before her now—but Treepie was the only one left who shared blood with anaa and any babes she birthed.

Will you help her make the babies? she chirped, too excited by the notion to recognize it was a very frank and personal question. Then they would… Pie’s voice trailed off suddenly.

Her expression twisted, as if she’d just caught a whiff of something horrible. But the air was fresh and piney, as always. The bad wind blew only in Treepie’s mind, as her innocent inquiry suddenly reminded her of her anatomical situation again. It hadn’t mattered to her, once, but with puberty came certain developments and doubts.

Catching herself, Tiuttuk sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile as she finished her thought: I would like that, anyway.

They were exchanging awkward moments, it seemed. Her question took him aback, and he paused a few moments, trying to decide how to answer it diplomatically—

But then, the girl seemed off, as well. Killdeer looked at his daughter, brows drawn together in concern.

What's wrong, Pie? he asked. You've not been yourself. Between not coming to the big gathering and now this. . .

He shook his head on a small sigh, smiling faintly. You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, he assured her. But I only wanna make sure you're okay, kiddo.

Killdeer gave her forehead a gentle nuzzle, letting his lips linger in a kiss (if she'd allow) before pulling away.

“You’ve not been yourself.”

Pie couldn’t say why these words hit her right in the feels. She went very still, offering no resistance to Killdeer’s display of affection. But dismay spread, slow and insidious, within her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him, Treepie just didn’t know what to say. She had never been able to make sense of her struggles with agoraphobia, much less explain them to someone else.

As for her more recent issues, Tiuttuk felt a stirring of shame. Nature has bestowed her with a unique gift. At least that’s how she’d felt about it, once upon a time. Now, she began to resent the half of her anatomy that didn’t agree with her identity.

I guess I’m still figuring myself out, she said quietly, those four words still on repeat in her head, now joined by four more: Who even am I?