Moonspear New growth begins

Zyraena stood at the base of the Moonspear, her lavender eyes drinking in the beauty of the towering peak. The mountain rose above her, majestic and humbling, its jagged slopes and dark, tangled woods offering a mysterious allure.

As she moved forward, Zyraena's gaze shifted toward the northern face of the mountain. The ridges and plains, bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, stretched out in front of her like a place for new beginnings. She could almost feel the pull of the stars above, their light soft and inviting, the promise of the endless sky reflecting her own desire for something more.

It was the first time in a long while she allowed herself to truly breathe, to release the tight grip of fear that had taken hold.

Sometimes, Tiuttuk fantasized about removing the parts she didn’t like. That would just leave her with the ones she did and she might truly feel like a woman. But how could she possibly accomplish that? She couldn’t mutilate herself. Perhaps I could get Sixsix to pluck them off? Pie thought with a snort as she trundled down the mountainside.

She reached the foot of the mountain and looked both ways before crossing into Firefly Glen. Pie only felt a little trepidation as she left Moonspear, which she quieted by focusing on taking deep breaths. Soon she was wandering the snowy glade without qualms, save for her lingering preoccupation with her own duality.

The scent of a stranger threaded into her nose, distracting her from her thoughts. She pursued it slowly through the trees, yellow eyes peeled for any sign of a wolfish face. Yet no matter how thoroughly she combed the trees, she never saw anyone. She eventually gave up with a shrug.

And then the sun began to set, which meant it was time to turn toward home. As Treepie approached the mountain, she recognized the pale figure standing near its foot. Zyraena looked a little perkier than the last time she’d seen her. The youngster waved her tail and woofed.

Zyraena, she greeted the woman by name as she drew closer, are you feeling better?

Zyraena’s ears perked at the familiar voice, and she turned toward Treepie with a soft smile.

"I am," Zyraena replied. "Better than I was, at least. It’s strange, you know? I still feel as though there’s something missing, but I’m getting stronger every day." She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of Treepie. "And you?" she asked, her eyes softening with genuine interest.

"How are you?" Zyraena’s tone was warm, her concern for the young wolf’s well-being clear in her gaze.

Pie’s head tilted at the woman’s answer. She had no idea what Zyraena meant by that, though before she could ask, the patient gave her an appraising look and asked how she was doing. Tiuttuk couldn’t explain why she suddenly felt like those icy eyes could somehow see past flesh and bone. She suppressed a shudder.

Doing her best to ignore this queer sense of vulnerability, Treepie cleared her throat and replied in turn, Everything’s fine with me. What do you mean when you say you feel like something’s missing?

She offered a gentle smile, trying to make her answer more accessible.

"It’s hard to explain," Zyraena began, her voice thoughtful, as if searching for the right words. "It’s not just the physical recovery—though that’s part of it. I’ve started feeling stronger, like I’m becoming myself again, but there's a… a gap. Like something's incomplete, but I can't quite name it." She paused for a moment, her eyes flickering to the horizon, where the last rays of the sun were fading behind the mountain.

"I don't know," she continued.

"I guess I’m trying to find my way forward, but there are pieces missing from who I was. It’s like I’m caught between who I was before all of this and who I’m supposed to be now."

Her words reminded Treepie of her recent conversation with Hakumele. She realized she didn’t know what had happened to Zyraena, either. This time, she wouldn’t make any assumptions. But she hesitated to ask. It sort of sounded like it might’ve been something deeply traumatic, to have this profound of an effect on her.

You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Pie said slowly, pausing before pinning on her question. But what exactly happened to you?

zyraena takes a deep breath, steadying herself as she looks at treepie. there's something about the way treepie asks, gentle and unassuming, that makes zyraena feel a little safer.

i came from a place where everything felt secure. i was sheltered, beloved. but then my sister... she vanished. and i can't remember what happened to her.

zyraena pauses, her eyes flicking away as though searching for the right words, the right way to share the emptiness that she feels. the memories are fractured. i can remember everything before, and i can remember waking up and finding myself alone, but the time between is gone. it's like a missing chapter, one that i can’t seem to piece together.

she shakes her head lightly, her gaze dropping to the ground as though ashamed of the gaps in her memory. she lets out a soft sigh, meeting treepie’s eyes again, her expression softer now. thank you for asking. i don’t often share, but... it’s helpful to talk.

Tiuttuk could relate—empathize, even—with the first few words out of Zyraena’s mouth. She thought of Pauk, in her mind a little boy into perpetuity. She missed him but mostly in an abstract way; he’d vanished when they were both so young. She’d always felt worse for Sialuk, much more deeply aggrieved by her child’s disappearance.

She had never experienced the missing memories the pale woman described. It sounded very frightening to wake up somewhere with a big, black hole behind you. Treepie barely suppressed a shudder. She couldn’t help but wonder if recovering those memories would do more harm than good, though it didn’t sound like Zyraena had any real say in it.

I’m here to listen, the youth said, perhaps a bit unnecessarily. I can’t imagine what that must be like. I mean, I can’t remember much from when I was a baby. Anaang says that’s normal. What you describe sounds really unsettling. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.

She thought about mentioning her brother in an effort to deepen this tenuous connection, though Pie decided she didn’t want to overshadow Zyraena’s plight with her own sob story. Not for the first time, Treepie wondered if he was dead. Maybe the patient’s sister was similarly gone from this world. Perhaps they’d met on the other side, amidst the dancing lights.

Speaking of light, Pie beheld the waning sunlight and noted, It’s getting dark. Are you still staying in the healing ulaq? I can walk you there.