Stone Circle Beginning of hope

I was hoping for @Cyron but @Mawk or @Rowana would be nice too. Maybe all three? Anyone else can come in too really. Backdated to the 30th of January before the news about Burr

The past few weeks had brought events of mixed emotions. Cyron was home and while she worried deeply about him, he seemed to be doing at least somewhat better. Rowana had returned with no long lasting damage, just skinny and rugged looking from the time spent alone without meals or warmth. She'd met Mawk's sister and found the woman to be delightful in every way (not just because Onyx had flattered her). Her and Mawk would see each other in passing and share smiles and kisses before returning to work, something that seemed to bring both of them peace of mind. She'd even risen in the ranks quite a bit, a thing she felt immensely proud of. 

The only thing missing was Burr, but she didn't feel worried. She trusted Morningside would care for him properly and he'd be returning any day now. What did bother her was that she hadn't been able to visit him at morningside. She'd come home to all of them missing and then busied herself with healing up and trying to care for Cyron once he had returned. The last she'd seen of Burr he had been such a small child, innocent but not as bubbly and naive as Rowana and Cyron had been at that age. He'd been so young...she wondered what he thought of everything that had happened. He hadn't known of Cyron's kidnapping or why they left, none of the kids had. Did he even remember her? These thoughts plagued her but after all of the positive things happening in Easthollow she didn't let it drag her down. She was feeling the stirrings of hope, that everything would be okay in the end.

It wasn't bright out yet, the sky was still filled with stars. The air that night was crisp and cool but it didn't hold the same biting chill that had been there all winter. She had grabbed something from the caches and carried it to the hillside where the buffalos were watched from and lay down against one of the stones. She didn't know the man who was buried here except by name, but she still dipped her head and nudged his stone in respect before dropping to the grass beside it. She began to tear into the flesh of her prey, the blood and meaty scents making her stomach rumble with hunger. The noise of her eating was the only thing to be heard in the silence of the early dark morning and she found peace in laying there with her meal though she wouldn't mind company either.

cyron glimpses at the velveteen darkness of the sky broken only by the softly vibrant moonlight and winking of stars that break the night sky and judges that there is a few hours of darkness left before dawn. he struggled and grappled with sleep and the nightmares that plagued him. night terrors that had him gasping awake, disoriented and body jumpy, veins pumped full of adrenaline that has not been burned off. he does not try to go back to sleep after the second time. he rises from his bedding: softened doe skin that he tucks away inside his parent's den while it's not in use, tucks it beneath the cover of the nearby brush for the sake of not risking waking his parents whom he assumes are still both sleeping and heads to the stone circle in the hopes that the walk might clear his head.

he hears the sound of feasting: the tear of flesh and sinew from bone and his ears cup forth atop his skull as the sterling saefyn cautiously approaches the noise only to let out a soft, nearly inaudible sigh of relief when he realizes who is making all the noise. he pauses, far enough away that he might not be noticed and watches her eat her meal for a moment before he looks out at the vast stretch of untamed wilderness before them wondering if he should let her enjoy her meal in peace ( not that he's much of a chatter box, mind ). in the end, though cyron does not desire to be disruptive he lets out a low chuff to announce his presence to her if she did not yet realize he was there.

The meal mixed with the quiet peaceful night time air was a relief. Normally she pondered things while patrolling but lately that hadn't brought her the same peace of mind. As she continued to chew through the meat and fill her belly, the breeze picked up and blew through her fur. She lifted her muzzle and breathed in the warm air, finding that it carried a well known scent with it. She looked for him without turning her head, unable to spot him. Why was he hiding from her? She drew in a small breath and sighed before taking another bite of her meal, acting as if she hadn't been made aware of Cyron's presence. If he just wanted to observe her in silence then she'd let him...she wouldn't push.


Then not too long after a small chuff grabbed her attention and she turned her head, a warm smile softening her features. She was glad that he'd stepped out and made hinself known on his own terms. "Cyron...Nice morning isn't it?" She asked, deciding not to start off with the boring question of how he was doing. She had her suspicions that he still wasn't quite right, he'd moved from their den and into his own, plus....he'd seemed to be distant from everyone. "I couldn't sleep. Despite things seeming to be alright I still have some dark dreams" she said honestly and then looked down at her prey. There wasn't much left but she'd offer it to him anyway "Would you like to come watch the sunrise with me? You can have the rest of this" she asked. Oh how she hoped he would agree to the offer, spend some time with her. She knew that if she'd really felt the need to, she could always seek him out but something had kept her from doing so. It wasn't that she wanted to avoid him, no..she loved her son just as much as she had before everything shattered their peaceful life. She just felt that she would make things worse by crowding him and forcing her affection on him. But now...with him in front of her, she really wanted to embrace him. She wished she knew how to reassure him that he'd be alright but she wasn't sure he was alright, or that he'd really ever be. 


When she was a young girl she'd had adulthood forced upon her in a traumatizing way. Her mother had tried to force her to kill a prisoner, a boy not much older than herself that they'd starved till he wouldn't be able to defend himself. When she'd been unable to do so they'd all beaten her. Her family had beaten her and called her weak. But she'd survived and set the boy free only to be forced to watch as he was found and dragged back and slaughtered in front of her. That was how she'd lost her innocence and while she'd repaired herself to a degree, she'd lost the girl she had been before then. Cyron had seemed to lose every trace of the sweet,bubbly boy he'd been before, but she had faith that he'd become a good man despite this. She was a good woman after all...wasn't she?  As she thought over these things she had been unintentionally staring at him with soft, sad eyes, a sense of recognition in her gaze that brought a strange intensity over her face. Realising that she had been staring like this she looked away again and cleared her throat. "If you'd rather go back to your den I understand." She added in a gentle tone.

cyron's mother greets him with a warm smile that he can't seem to make himself return. part of it is the guilt that comes with the knowledge that he is hurting them and acceptance of that simple fact. he does not mean to. yet, he believes that there are horrors that should never be shared and what he endured in wolfskull cave was certainly a horror. the knowledge of what had happened to him would only hurt them worse, he believes. it is better they do not know. so he willingly bears the burden of it alone and his resolve upon the matter is utterly unwavering and immobile. "yeah," it is chilly but he supposes it is 'nice' by weather standards. cyron makes a small, noncommittal noise as she admits that she can't sleep and speaks of 'dark dreams'. he's not exactly sure what that is and is hesitant to group it in with nightmares though there is a chance, he acknowledges, that they are one in the same. he does not tell her that he couldn't sleep either as he thinks it's rather obvious.

"you finish it." he declines her offer for the meal as gently as he can as he steps closer and moves beside her. he'll watch the sunrise, at least. his appetite is slowly coming back to him but he never pushes it for the fear of losing what little progress he was able to make. things are ...not better — perhaps they never will be — but he's making progresses regardless of how slow and small that's something. she is staring at him and though he spares her a glimpse out of the corner of his eye to affirm that he looks over the vast expanse of land and sky before them as he reclines upon his haunches. he pretends not to notice. he does not want to see the sadness in her eyes, to know that he causes it. it twists the knife of guilt further in his gut because it only re-affirms to him that he's making the right choice of keeping what occurred during his time in captivity to himself. if this — the aftermath — hurts them he can't fathom what knowing would do to them. "it's fine." he does not tell her that it feels like a cage most nights and that at times even easthollow with it's borders and it's guardians feels like a prison. they tell him he's safe but his mind has been moulded and rewired during the most crucial time of learning and self discovery in his life. blackfeather woods would always have their mark on him. they raised him, after all, in reality. safety is a lie. it is an empty word until proven. easthollow has the advantage of a border and protectors but in the end that would not stop the wolves of blackfeather if they had their mind(s) set.

"i'm sorry i'm hurting you." the words constrict in his throat and come out raw. he thought by uttering them that it would make him feel better. it doesn't. it only makes cyron feel worse as he verbally confirms that he acknowledges that he's hurting his mother while also confirming that he will willingly continue to do so by keeping her in the dark.

She looks away again as he moves beside her, grateful that he chose to sit with her. He declined her offer for the food so she simply shoved it aside, not wanting any more or to eat in front of him either. She released a long sigh and flicked her remaining ear as she warred internally with the desire to move closer to her son and press her muzzle into his fur. She had a feeling that he wasn't ready or wanting of her affections, so she wouldn't push them onto him no matter how much she felt the desire to.


His cracked voice spoke up and broke the silence between them and her chest tightened with guilt and pain. He thought that he was the cause of her pain? How had he come to that conclusion? "Cyron.... you aren't the cause of my pain. I am. The many mistakes I've made is what caused all this to happen. The mistakes of a new mother who had no idea what she's doing. I let you run away and didn't follow. I failed to get to you...me and your father went to Blackfeather and they refused your return. So we left...and I didn't follow your father home. I chose to give up before I found a young blackfeather boy and I attacked him. He did this to me" she gestured with her nose to her tail and looked upward at her missing ear. Her eyes hardened with grief. "So I ran home. I found Rowana and Burr gone. Your father alone. This is all my fault. You cannot and never will be the cause of my pain. It pains me that you've been broken and are obviously shouldering so much. It pains me that almost abandoned my family. But nobody is the cause but myself" she said this firmly, looking him in the eyes.

cyron watches from the corner of his eye as his mother shoves the remains of her meal to the sigh and his ears flutter back as she releases a long sigh. it is a heavy thing, burdened. he understands, in his own way. from his own burdens. he wishes he could be what she wants him to be, that he could undo everything that'd been done to him. cyron wishes that he could go back to being the boy he'd been when he'd been taken captive as opposed to the man that had escaped from blackfeather's clutches. a broken and undiscovered man; a stranger even to himself. it was terrifying and cyron deigned not to spend too much time thinking about it. he would figure out what kind of man he was as he went. thus far, it appeared to be an ok strategy.

he looks to her and then away as she attempts to assure him that he is not the cause of her pain. he doesn't believe her ...at least not fully. he shifts his weight, dull chestnut gaze staring out at the territories stretched before the duo though his mother has his rapt and undivided attention as she speaks, as she explains. cyron swallows thickly, unsure about how he should feel to hear that his parents had gone to blackfeather woods and had given up on him just because his return was refused. it felt like a slap in the face. the kind that smarted and stung for a long stretch of moments after. in part, he kind of feels betrayed. unworthy. his mother speaks to him candidly and while he knows he should appreciate her honesty he almost wishes she would not have been so candid with him now, in hindsight.

"why did you give up on me? why did you leave me there with them?" he asks after a moment. his tone is not accusing but cyron can't entirely hide the pain that colors the words. did it really matter? it happened and there is no way to turn back the clock and do it all over again. besides, he is out. he got out for himself, by himself. he found the light in a dark and terrifying situation and he became his own hero. cyron couldn't deny that knowing that he, alone, managed his escape left him feeling empowered and gave him hope that he could and would survive and endure. yet, still, he is curious and while she is being candid with him seeks to take advantage of it unsure if she would chose to be so openly honest with him again.

His pain struck her like a slap to the face and she couldn't no wouldn't hide the shame in her expression, good ear flattening down against her head and eyes squinting shut. "Because if we had attacked...and Cyron...me and your father wanted nothing more than to try and shred that blasted white furred male and his girlfriend"She paused as her voice took on a fierce note, eyes opening and glinting with anger at the memory of the brute who had met them upon the borders and the black furred female who had been with him. "If we had attacked the whole pack would have been upon us. We would have died and then...then nobody would have been able to do anything for you. It was the plan to come home and figure something else out. But I ached and I hurt and I was weak...I left. I gave up. Your father came home and never stopped searching for all three of you. I wish we had fought them that day...fought across those borders and snatched you up. But we didn't...we didn't and we failed you. I failed you." her voice began to trembled halfway through the explanation until she was crying openly. She lifted her gaze to the stars and fell silent, golden eyes wide and tear filled as she silently stared at the sky with a pain wracked expression. After a few moments she seemed to gain control of herself again. She sucked in a breath and turned to him "No matter what...you are my son. My boy. My Cyron. Whatever they did won't change that. I...I can see you are different. Changed. But even so, I will not yearn for the small boy you were before." she spoke softly, her eyes staring into his. She had of course wished that this never happened and he was still a happy baby boy, but she didn't feel bad enough to not appreciate him here, with her and alive.

"It is enough that you are here and alive. Time...time may never heal Everything. But i swear I'd die before I allow them to hurt you again. Nobody...nobody will ever hurt you again. I failed you once but i won't again" she finished and held her breath. She tensed up and cringed inwardly. This was too much. For both of them. She shouldn't have said all this so soon, what if he decided he hated her? She looked away from him, moving over as if she was afraid he'd shun her. She wished Mawk was here with her, he always knew what to say and do in these emotional times.

she is ashamed and he almost regrets asking — it is common knowledge that you shouldn't ask questions whose answers you aren't prepared to hear, after all — but he feels he has a right to know. at the beginning of her response, cyron understands. he can't blame them for taking a step back, for wanting to regroup and get help, get back-up. that part made sense. what didn't make sense was what followed: that she gave up, that she abandoned the family all together. he feels an obligation to assure her that she hadn't failed him but as she is being candid with him he only feels it's right to be candid in return. thus, he does not utter any false reassurances. she had failed him. by some stroke of luck or his own determination he survived and he freed himself. their failure gave him the strength he needed to take matters into his own hands; to decide that he wasn't going to be the victim anymore. he'd been dying. his body slowly starving to death as it turned against itself. he'd had nothing to lose by attempting his escape because whether he was successful or not death had been the only certain outcome either way.

his mother begins to cry and cyron looks away, awkwardly. he isn't sure what to do with her tears and believes that if she was ever going to forgive herself that she needed to hear the truth. not of what happened to him — no, that alone was his own demon to battle — but she had to learn to forgive herself. he doesn't hold it against her but he knows she'll never move on from it if she keeps berating herself for her failings. they all made mistakes. there was no such thing as a perfect mother ...or a perfect son. his ears taper back as she tells him that she won't yearn for who he once was, which was good. she needed to forgive herself and accept that cyron will never be the same. the first steps were always the hardest. "that boy died in wolfskull cave." he confirms candidly. what had emerged is still ...well being discovered. cyron isn't yet sure what kind of man he'll be. he can only hope that it's not like the blackfeather wolves. they've left their mark upon him, they raised him ...and that was bound to have it's consequences. he swallows thickly and hastily tucks that worry away. he may wish to be candid with his mother but, perhaps, not that candid. not today.

"i can protect myself, mom." he tells her softly. he doesn't need his mother to fight his battles for him anymore. he isn't trying to shut her out and he doesn't mean for that to sound as cruel as it might come across but it's the truth.

As the silence dragged on she managed to pull back in all the emotions that had forced themselves up. She breathed deeply and dried her eyes. This wasn't something she should have said to him, it wasn't time. Was she ever going to be good enough to raise up children properly? Or would she just continue to mess up and let everyone down? 


He spoke something she had gathered for herself. "Yes. I...see that. Died and left...a man in a growing boys body." she murmured in reply. She was uncomfortable just as she assumed he was. She truly hadn't meant to blurt out all that upon his already burdened shoulders. Then he spoke again and her ears flicked back. She thought this time on what to say before she spoke. Making him feel weak was bad. If he thought he could protect himself than she wasn't one to deny him that, yet she felt as his mother she had the duty and right to at least fight with him. "Be that as it may as your mother I will fight by your side. If not for you, with you. I hate blackfeather for what they've done too though I'm sure not as much as you do. They not only tortured you but one of their brats also did this to me." at this point the sun was beginning to come over the horizon and the sky was turning a vivid shade of purple and pink. It was beautiful yet she no longer wished to sit and watch this anymore. "I love you Cyron and whatever you need...be it distance or whatever...I want to help you. You're father does too...me and Mawk are here. I'll...be going off to start a patrol around the borders now." she said gently her eyes softening as she studied him. Now that she stopped and looked he wasn't really a growing boy anymore. He was big...almost the size of a yearling. She smiled faintly and stood up, slowly moving forward and touching her nose to the top of his head before separating again and heading off.