and wild plum trees in tremulous white

EVENT LOG
February 16, 2017: Seelie loses Julep, Isengrim, and Moorhen.
February 16, 2017: Sad!Seelie is reunited with Komodo just before midnight.
February 17, 2017: Seelie and Komodo meet Hemlock the next morning.
February 26, 2017: Seelie visits Olive for some soul-healing time.

In Seelie’s personal timeline, this thread takes place just a few hours before she gets puppynapped by Blackfeather Woods and is her last happy thread for a long time.

Things were looking grim for Coelacanth.

Julep, Isengrim, and Moorhen were gone — but the reappearance of the Angakkuq in little Big Ears’ life had bolstered her spirits, somewhat. Her friendship with the mist-shrouded druid and a burgeoning respect for the fire-furred Hemlock helped to ground and center her. Guilt lingered, but it always would — it seemed she was forever subtracting instead of adding, and it ate away at her. Still, Seelie remembered now to look at the stars when she wanted to hear her grandmother’s songs and stories, to wade in the ocean shallows when she wanted to feel her father’s embrace, and to comb the shoreline from the sea lions’ shoals to the glassy river deltas when the tide went out and she felt Amoxtli’s lack most keenly. Greedy as any magpie, the sprightly sheepdog had begun her own collection of trinkets and treasure in her twin’s memory, and she’d have been lying if she denied that part of her obsessive hoarding was a desire to feel emotionally close to him despite the undeniable, uncharted distance that lay inexorably between them — and a superstitious whim that by doing so, she could lure him back to her. Lure all of them back to her.

Today the inkdark ingénue was on official business: replenishing the herb stores she had inherited from Doe. Treating Olive and Dakarai’s extensive wounds had depleted Seelie’s modest supply of yarrow, celandine, and sphagnum moss, and the promise of wildberries still heavy with ice wine lured her further and further inland. She continued fulfilling responsibilities and obeying commands given by no wolf in the hopes that the Cairn children or their parents would return to her, but she was losing hope.

Despite this, there was a lively, if mildly incongruous, staccato snap to the sheepdog’s flowing legato steps as she returned to the lush little thicket she remembered so well — and her fox-fine nose snuffled intently through a wall of foliage that just about blocked the larger male and his two frolicking cubs from view. It was something akin to catching glimpses of other library patrons whilst browsing a bookshelf, and Seelie, torn between revealing herself and turning tail to escape the situation, lingered just a little too long before she emerged from her pocket of leaf-latticed shadow and presented herself for the thickly-furred wolf’s perusal. Her ink-feathered tail swept low and fluttered appealingly betwixt her hocks to complement her naturally submissive carriage as her tufted ears folded with the delicacy of an origami lotus, Neptune eyes tracing him with a look both bashful and bold before she looked demurely down at her forepaws.