The Heartwood grief, i've now met

set sometime after this thread

dear son,

my arms ache to hold you.
my eyes long to see you.
my ears crave to hear you.
please, my baby, know you are loved.

---

her world was silent.

there were no birds chirping, no rustle of leaves, no insects buzzing about. there was only the deafening sound of her own heartbeat battering against her chest.

she'd scoured through half the hunting camps in a frenzied panic before she'd caught his scent; her boy, her beautiful boy! she'd tucked @Anatolia and zephyra safely away, hidden together where a kiss was placed to each of their crowns. "i'll be back soon," a promise.

---

it'd been half an hour now trailing the fading scent of @Alasdair. her voice had become raw, strained from the endless, agitated wails of "ALASDAIR!" her lungs were fire, her cries piercing the chilled autumn air.

could her daughters hear her screams? was she frightening them? — stress rippled it's way through her body in unrelenting waves. her legs begged to collapse, but she could not will herself to stop running.

---

it'd been an hour of persistent searching, her nose leading her to the edge of the heartwood. fear had her in chains, shackled to the worse thought her mind could conjure. she came about a small clearing where her son's scent mixed with another, and for a moment there was a wave of relief.

he was not alone! he was ok! her baby, her precious baby was going to be ok!

she did not recognize the scent but immediately assumed it belonged to someone of the hunt.

oh how wrong she'd been. her eyes opened, her focus pinpointed as she carefully inspected the sight of a small scuffle. she expected the trail to backtrack toward the glen, but it raced in the opposite direction.

what hope had warmed her heart suddenly plummeted. the blood rushed from her as she felt a cool sting slither along her spine. she took off after the stranger's scent, so fixated on her goal that she nearly tripped on a pinecone.

the footpath was cut off by a stream, and all hope fled from the mother in a single breath.

defeat and grief assaulted her with such force that it brought her to her knees. and in the silence of a charred forest, nephele wailed.

her lungs would not fill. the world melted away. and she was wholly, utterly, undoubtedly broken. ripped apart so violently that she did not know if she could ever piece herself back together. and that is how she remained until the light of day descended beyond the mountains and she was left bare in the moonlight.

curled in a ball on the ground, she was no more than a flood of tears and mucus. heartache was unbefitting of a word to describe her torment, for what once stood as a proud mother was now a hollowed shell of desolation.

she had failed her son. she had failed her daughters. she had irrevocably failed as a mother.

---

it had taken many, many hours before nephele could find the strength to stand. she had sobbed until tears were no more than salt, until the pounding in her head became numb.

a dark thought had crossed her mind while she'd laid there, a thought that lingered with her even now as she walked. but she could not let it seep it's way to existence, for in all the darkness that had swallowed her, there was still the flicker of two burning flames that willed her on.

her daughters, her girls — her purpose. she did not wish them to see her this way. she did not wish for them to worry.

each step was a suture to her heart.

she wiped stained cheeks and steadied a shaky breath. and when she finally reached them, it took all energy she had not to crumble before them. she curled around them with trembling limbs, exhaustion gripping her with forceful claws.

yet even as she lay there with no strength left to give, she held her daughters with such a force that she might never let them go.

she would not lose them too.




she could not lose them.