Morningside Cuesta naked and alone we came into exile

@Grezig again if you'd like - set after Kierkegaard's death.

Trauma had fastened to him like a leech in the water.
 
The boy lay on the ground with his body stretched out and his eyes searching the distant skies for anything that would force the images from his mind. He could not help but to see the crippled body of his father; the jutting bones that had snapped and protruded from his limbs. The boy closed his eyes sharply and gritted his teeth together in a clenched jaw. None of it made sense to him.
 
Why had his eyes been open?
 
Illidan had collapsed against the earth without the strength to move elsewhere. His frame was weary from his running, and he did not imagine that he could move his limbs well enough to carry him away from where he was. It didn’t matter anyway; nothing did. Illidan felt a cool breeze rush through his coat and for a moment he thought he could scent the stench of death that had lingered in the air. He felt himself gag and he buried his nose against his paw.

Since learning more about Illidan’s past and family, Grezig had kept a close eye on the boy. It was something she had done almost without thinking, as if she were afraid that he would do something stupid — like wander off. She had awoken one morning to find him missing and had followed his trail, only to see his shape returning from… wherever he had been. She watched from afar as he seemed to collapse to the ground. She broke into a run, afraid that she would find the pup dead when she arrived at his side. But no, he was still breathing.

“Illidan,” she said, her voice full of disapproval. “Where did you go? You cannot run off like that!” She stopped then, for two reasons. One was that she was sounding far too much like a mother for her own liking, and two was that the boy seemed extremely upset and she wasn’t even sure if he was listening to her. “What happened?” she asked, trying to make her voice more soothing, but failing. Instead, there was more than a hint of a demand in there somewhere, like she was absolutely desperate to find out… whatever she was about to find out.

Illidan!
 
The voice was distant, as though it was being spoke through water, or from miles and miles away. The boy wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, or if there was someone who had stumbled upon him. For a moment, he had thought the voice to belong to his mother. He was filled with two emotions at that thought; the first was delight, and the second was dread. The boy did not know how he would explain to his mother what he had found. He did not know how he could explain such a thing to anyone.
 
When he blinked and glanced toward the wolf who was speaking to him, he noticed that it was the female who had seen his brother. Illidan did not register any of her other words, or the hint of a demanding tone when she had asked him what had happened. The boy attempted to swallow the heavy lump in his throat, but he could not force it down. It felt as though he was going to gag on it. Illidan released a ragged little breath and gritted his teeth.
 
“Go way…”

Grezig had no intention of going away. She had followed the boy out of worry for his safety, and now that she knew for sure that something was wrong, she would not leave him out here by himself. She did not trust his judgment, especially since he was only three months old. Distraught wolves often made stupid decisions, too, no matter what age. No. She would not leave. At least, she would not go far.

Without saying anything else, she turned away from Illidan and found a spot a few dozen feet away, where she could still see him, but was, to her, a sufficient distance away. She supposed he did not want her to see him crying or otherwise upset. He was a boy. Perhaps he thought crying in front of someone else was embarrassing. Whatever the case, she knew she needed to give him time alone, but she would not take her eyes off of him. She would wait. Maybe when he had calmed down some, he would tell her what had happened.

It was much to his surprise that Grezig listened to him – to a degree – and did not press the child further. It was probably for the best, though. Illidan was still aching from his discovery; the images still flashed through his mind and lingered there. It was a stain in his memories, and all other things were beginning to fade away when compared. The young feral hated that he had done it. For the first time in his short life, Illidan was filled with an outstanding regret for his own actions. Young as he was, he still understood that he would likely never remove the memory from his mind. In the darkest of nights, it would chase him through nightmares and latch hold of his sprit.
 
Grezig might have been hoping that he would talk to her about what had happened. She might have lingered nearby just to make sure he was alright. Illidan didn’t care. He just didn’t want to talk to anyone, and he wasn’t prepared to face the thought of moving from his position against the earth. His hawkish little stare darted toward the female for a moment before it was pulled away and cast on a distant rocky slope. The stones jutted out dangerously, forming a jagged sort of pike from the earth. Illidan wondered if it was sharp enough to kill someone.

Grezig waited. If patience was truly a virtue, Grezig had plenty of that, when she needed it. Pushing the boy to do anything might damage him emotionally and/or psychologically. Grezig might be a very instinctive wolf who could fight and kill and shut down when needed, but Illidan was a pup. She did not know what he had seen or experienced to cause his depression, to cause him to have collapsed to the ground. Under other circumstances, she might have thought that he was simply hungry, but his reaction to her presence and his overall demeanor told her something different. 

She forced her gaze to remain impassive when his yellow eyes sought hers out for a moment. Then he looked away again and she let out a tiny breath. What was he thinking? What had happened? Was this just general depression about his family that was only overwhelming now? Was she, perhaps, overreacting? Was he just being a sullen brat? Still, even if that was the case, she wouldn’t leave him on his own. What if he did not return? She had found him, so if she came back without him and he never returned to their group, it would be her fault. She could not allow that.

So she waited.

She said nothing.
 
The boy did not speak either. He did not turn his attention back to her again. All that he could see were the images that had painted themselves in the forefront of his mind. All that he knew was that his life would never be the same again. All of the hope that he had clung to had been stripped from him. His family had been crippled by the accident. As far as he knew, Illidan was the only one who could confirm it. Eventually, he would need to find his mother and tell her. She would likely spend her time searching for her missing family. The boy still did not know where she would have gone. He did not even know where she had left from.
 
Breathing a shaky breath, the boy closed his eyes for a moment to stare only at darkness. It was safe there; he felt as though he did not have to think when he was surrounded by black. If Grezig was hoping that he would speak up, she was waiting for an unlikely happening. Illidan would rather sever his tongue than speak of what had happened – what he had witnessed. In his mind, no one would ever understand. No one could ever feel the way that he felt in that moment.

Grezig lost track of time and space as she zoned out. She would not let the boy win and make him think that he could get away with this cold shoulder bullshit forever. She understood that he was going through something but this was getting ridiculous. Still, she did not speak. She waited. And would wait for as long as it took. He was not moving and so she would not move either. He did not speak and so she kept silent. Eventually, she would outlast him. She was sure of it. He would get hungry or bored and give up this sullenness enough to go back to the group. And then she would bring him food. Care for him. Watch him. If she could only wait long enough.

Silence seemed to overtake them like a dark shadow that swept across the world. Illidan did not seem to budge in his stubborn state of muteness. He had adopted it well, though it was prominent already in his paternal lineage. There was nothing that could shake him from his stupor. Nothing that could quell the burning of his heart, or the images that had seized his mind. The boy was trapped in an endless spiral. All that he could see was the image of his dead father. It was all that he would know for a very long time.

Grezig could wait all she wanted; Illidan would not speak. Hunger could wreak havoc on his frame, tiredness could condemn him to a life of weary existence, but he would not open his mouth to share what he had discovered. Nothing could force him – not even the sharp bite of his own mother's fang.

Illidan was not moving and Grezig’s patience had run out. She stood up and went to him, attempting to nudge him to a standing position by pushing her nose underneath his stomach. “Come,” she said. “We must go back.” She had been hoping, praying, that he would come to his senses by himself, but it seemed he was determined to lay here forever. She could not allow that. She would drag him back to the others if need be. He was not yet fully grown. She could overpower him, she was sure. If he ran, she would simply follow him. Hopefully it would not come to that. Hopefully he would just follow her. Do not make this difficult, she thought.

The boy was not expecting her to wait through his exhausted silence. The boy heard only the tail end of her words suggesting that they return to where the others would be waiting. Illidan did not want to return with her; he didn't want to move. There was a morbid portion of him that wanted to remain where he was in the dirt and grass until he had withered away to nothing more than flesh and bone. The image of his father scraped through his mind again and the hooded child grimaced. Without another word, Illidan rose from his place and followed Grezig back to where the others where. It was there that he found a quiet corner and returned to his state of mental decay.