The Bracken Woods [m] ivory ice

red leaf had lost her husband.
it was not that he had gone away physically, for he was very much still there; always, always there; it was the fact that something in him had changed. she felt as though she couldn't blame him. she had seen it too, she had her share of sleepless nights and early mornings and days where she could hardly keep down broth. she had loved him too, as if he had come from her womb!
and she had begged, begged for this; pleaded on her knees in a way her own village had raised her to never do. but she now began to wonder if giving her life for ghaden's may have been the better choice.
she is cold, tired, so tired; her eyes feel as if they may explode inside her skull, and the taste of caribou scent on her tongue brings her a sobering wash of relief; but it is only momentary. a sharp sting spears her as she feels her body tumble into the snow before she can even register it.
stupid woman. useless woman. he doesn't mean it. he is grieving. i'm sorry, she croaks, dragging a forepaw up over her face. i know, i know, i will-- i will set everything up. i promise.
her lip quivers dangerously as cen moves away. she waits until she can no longer hear his footfalls before she stands up to dust herself off, and she waits to cry until the pelts are laid out atop the packed ice and she is alone with the howl of the wind.