Dawnlark Plains ι

skorpa > other shore > ayovi > morwenna for reference :DD

morwenna's body was coiled tight, a snare wound too taut, ready to snap at the slightest pressure. her anger flared hot at skorpa’s words, at his dismissive command to calm down—a command that cut her deeper than any blade.
calm down? the last thing a grieving wife needs is another fucking man to tell her to calm down! her voice cracked, wild and raw, her muzzle wrinkling in the shape of a snarl. do they not see? do they not hear?
but then, other shore was there. her presence, soft as the ocean lapping against the earth, quieted some of the fire. morwenna’s ears fell back, her breath shuddering as she exhaled.
i apologize, i--
she was unraveling, shaking apart beneath the weight of it all, and she knew it. but what choice did she have? she had to bear it. she had to carry this war on her shoulders, because no one else would.
but then skorpa spoke again, words in blackfell’s tongue—words she did not understand in full, but understood enough. he doubted her. questioned her. she lifted her head, her tail rising stiffly behind her, her voice cutting through the cold like a blade.
blackfell was exiled for protecting me, she bit, gjalla, my sister, too. she is on the glacier, protected by the ice.
but then came the part she could hardly force out.
and my husband...
her throat seized. she clenched her jaw, biting back the crack in her voice. why was it so hard to say? why did it feel like a betrayal?
he started this war... he is...
gods, damn it.
gone mad.
there. it was out. the truth, the thing she had refused to speak aloud until now.
her limbs trembled with the force of her grief, and she could not stop herself from stepping back, from curling herself closer to other shore, to the only comfort she could allow herself.
there are no wounded here. they are gone— where? i know naught. they could be at the glacier by now.
her voice was breaking. she hated it. she hated how small she felt, how utterly out of control. she was supposed to be strong. she was supposed to hold everything together.
i have done all i can for my husband. his fate is up to the caribou spirits.
but it was ayovi’s presence, her words, that nearly sent her to her knees. she was offering help, asking where her sister was, where the wounded were: but from one mother to another, where her children were—
morwenna shuddered, a tear slipping hot down her cheek.
my children are only days old, and he...
she could barely get the words out. she closed her eyes, willing the tremor in her voice to die.
he wages war.
a war that she did not want. a war that would spill blood upon the lands her children were meant to grow strong upon. a war she did not know how to stop.