Blackfeather Woods never seem to find the time

[WC: 637]

Titmouse woke in the cave and he felt the chill of the shadows that blanketed him. He had been sleeping for long hours within the confines of Wolfskull ever since his emotional episode with Maegi, unable (or perhaps unwilling) to leave. He lurked there. Refusing to eat, barely staying conscious, until he felt the pull of his animal hunger drawing him out in to the light. The light was too much at first; but he crawled along, wincing at the sharp quality of it as it penetrated his pupil. How long had he been hiding? He couldn't tell, but in the end it didn't matter.

As the boy meandered through the forest he came across the scent of Maegi, and he paused. It wasn't a strong scent but it brought mixed emotions to light within him; he winced from these too, not yet ready to deal with the tumult of it all. He chose to deviate from where the scent was leading him and soon found himself loitering along the edge of the territory. The ripe scent of the Blackfeather markings stopped him in his tracks despite it being so familiar - or perhaps because it was so familiar. More feelings that dredged up and he was not prepared for. Titmouse had too much history with the Blackfeathers and he could remember every bit of it — the war he ignored, the broken leg, the kidnapping, Cassiopeia. The poppies. Being cared for, being loved, Maegi. He wanted to leave, and he wanted to stay.

Could all of the chaos of his life be distilled in to a definitive answer? Leave because of the bad - stay because of the good --?

Titmouse sighed. He breathed deeply of that scent, let it fill him up to bursting, and then exhaled. The rush of air calmed him a little bit. He was stuck deliberating for a moment longer when he saw Blue flit by him, almost unnoticed because the tiny bird zipped through the blackness of his bad side, but the little thing was smart enough to land where Titmouse could see him. There was a pebble in the bird's beak. The bird opened its mouth to let out a shrill call, and the stone hit the ground. Titmouse didn't react except to turn away - shun the offering, if that's what it was.

And then, he caught it. A scent on the wind that was just as familiar as Maegi's, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the rogue; images of the Redhawks confronting him upon the plateau came to mind, and Titmouse's jaw tightened, his lips forming a straight line as a frown took up residence across his broken face. Before he knew it, he was striding away from the border and deeper in to the territory; it wasn't far, but it was certainly the wrong direction considering the boy he remembered was not a member of Blackfeather. Unless that too had changed, and Titmouse was really as confused as he felt.

The nearer he got, the louder things got too. There was the sound of subdued voices and then snarling, a clash — and Titmouse was suddenly running, his senses cued in to the distress flooding the woods — only to skid to a stop moments later, staring at two of his closest friends locked in combat. The boy spied blood, fresh wounds, and — and then Maegi was shrieking something — Redshank was screaming, the chaos — it was like the chaos of his rivalling lives had spilled out in front of him and all he could do was stand there and

screech

STOP IT!

He didn't know who he was targeting as he threw himself at the fighting wolves, but he was intent on driving himself between them. He would make it stop — he would make all of this shit stop now.