Otter Creek set the controls for the heart of the sun

@Serem - forward dated to April 3

The Blackfeather babes had brought forth the nightmares in her. Maegi liked to sleep close to the den--or in it, if Relmyna permitted--but it was with a sort of dull masochism that she did so, gazing upon the girls with sorrowful eyes. One white, one black. Cuddled inseparably together.

Once she and Ramsay had been inseparable, too. One white, one black. It was them, and Euron, too, against the world. Against nature. Against their mother.

They still were inseparable, in a way. In the foul twisted way that brought their visages forth in Maegi's dreams, at times twisted like demons, still other times the bone-white of skulls. They laughed, they screamed, they danced a sort of macabre dance around her before striking, sinking their fangs deep into her flesh.

But worse were the dreams where she was the instigator of violence. Everything in her mind screamed "No!", yet some inexorable force pressed her forward, tearing them limb from limb until all that was left was scraps and shreds of flesh and blood at her feet.

Her blood, too.

The daedra taunted Maegi with these dreams, and each time she awoke, she felt more worn down than before. It was nearly two weeks since the pups had been born, and something within her had shattered. She rose that day with a new purpose, a new resolve.

If the daedra would torture her so, then she would end that torture. She would find her brothers, bring them back to Blackfeather. . .and perhaps the agony would finally end, for her.

So eager was she to stop the madness that she left without a word, fleeing the dark forest, a white, furtive shadow across the plains. She followed the creek, remembering it from her voyage back--but, being otherwise utterly clueless about direction, had no idea she had headed in the opposite direction Cicero had taken, when they'd first left. Foolish bravery kept her going.

The mountains rose high and foreboding above her, and she stopped for a moment to look up, mismatched eyes not wide, as they'd been upon first seeing the crags--but narrowed with determination. Chanting a prayer to herself, she forged ahead on her journey, the chaos in her head growing louder and louder.

It would not stop until Cicero's and Potema's children were together once more. She knew that.