Heron Lake Plateau when the night is done, you’ll vanish in the sun

He was gone.

At least he'd come to say goodbye this time, in reality it somehow made things worse for her.  She'd followed him everywhere.  She had split from the Blackthorn clan because he had fought and she had eventually found him here despite an unintentional detour or two.

And while she knew that logically, he was growing up and pursuing things as an adult, she was stuck.  The mental breakdown that she had been carefully preventing came forward full-force.  It started with a panic attack shortly after he had left.  A river burst forth from her, and when it had been bled dry and her chest was heavy and tight, she began to pace.

She couldn't stay here any longer.

And with that realization, she bolted straight for @Raven, hoping to catch her alone.

Sorry it took me forever to reply! <3

As was usual for her when she had a break from the puppies, Raven had gone to the lake. Cool, dark water rhythmically parted and closed over her back and shoulders as she floated, her toes barely touching the muddy bottom. She lost herself for a time in the serene peace of birdsong and the soft susurrus of the breeze as it tickled the foliage along the bank. The sun's heat, diminished as it was by the water's cool relief, actually felt good. After the chaos of spending the morning and much of the afternoon with four very riled-up puppies, this tranquil quietude was a balm for her soul that she hadn't even realized she had needed so badly until now.

After a while, she paddled to the shallows and emerged onto the bank, vigorously shaking out her saturated black fur. With a sigh of satisfaction, she found a soft, grassy spot nearby and lay down to dry out and -- if she was lucky -- catch a nap. It was then that she noticed a streak of fire coming in her direction, and she recognized the face immediately. "Ceara?" she asked her friend, who was clearly distressed about something. She pulled herself back to her feet as a note of worry crept into her voice, "What's wrong?"

I never mind! <3
edit: you get post 400!  so soon!

It is a small miracle that Raven is never difficult to find.  Either she is with the kids or she is at the lake, and it is another small miracle that her children don't have to be exposed to.. well, whatever this was going to be.

By now it should have reached Raven (because this time, at least he had told everyone he was leaving) that Tuathal was gone — her world was gone, as pitiful as that was.  If she could not have Raven at least she had him and oh god, she can't think about that right now otherwise she's going to cry and the last thing she needs to do right now is cry.  

Because it seems like all she does is cry in front of Raven, and what is she, just fucking stupid anyway?  She should've learned how to be her own individual by now, but the codependency — or maybe just her codependency — had smacked her in the face the moment she realized that he wasn't here to bounce ideas off of anymore and he wasn't here to keep her company when she tends to the garden and he wasn't here anymore to hold her together —

This breakdown had been coming for some time, hadn't it?  I'm — she blubbered, trying to force the words for how undeniably raw she felt.  he's gone?  Just like that?  He had grown up and he didn't need her anymore like she needed him?

I can't believe you've already hit 400. Dang!

Predictably, the source of Ceara's distress was Tuathal's departure. Raven had sort of expected such a reaction from her, so it came as no surprise when the words tumbled from the epsilon's lips.

The alpha had never been very impressed with Tuathal. Since his acceptance into the Redhawks, he'd done little to make a name for himself or contribute to the pack. She knew he helped with patrols and hunting, as every wolf in the pack did, but he'd never really seemed to be passionate about being a Redhawk. Raven had had mixed feelings when he'd informed them he was leaving. He was important to her friend, so she tried to keep an open mind. But she had always been harshly judgmental of those who made commitments they couldn't keep, who swore their loyalty to a pack and then decided it wasn't good enough. Oh, he'd had his reasons, of course, but Raven wasn't sold on them. They sounded more like excuses to her.

"Yeah," she replied, her tone carefully neutral. She wasn't sure what else to say.

This is something she belatedly realizes she should have expected.  Raven's carefully metered response had sucked the air straight from her lungs — no, it had hit her brunt-force in the chest.  Her mouth parts to hang open limp as her eyebrows come up in the middle of her forehead to portray her betrayal clear as day.

Raven didn't care about him the same way she did (and in her head this was justified; nobody cared about him the same way she did).  She realizes then that she has had a fair number of these outbursts.  It's like problem-of-the-week, and it is shame that creeps up in her next.  She takes one step back, then two.  Maybe she's just sick of hearing about it.

But it's more than that, she says quietly enough it could be carried off on the lake's placid winds, never to be heard at all by any other than Ceara with her stupid bleeding heart.

Raven saw her mumble something, and though it was too quiet to be heard, her well-honed talent for lip-reading (thanks to ptero!) gave her the gist of what Ceara said. She felt a shard of shame pierce her heart. She should have been more understanding, more compassionate and validating of her packmate's sorrow. She realized in that moment that she was being an alpha, not a friend. And in a way, she was being selfish too. She was so focused on her own feelings toward Tuathal that she was blinding herself to Ceara's.

She sighed, then, and some of the tension and authority eased out of her body language. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, the love and warmth that were so familiar to those who knew her well shone in their amber depths again. "I'm sorry, it's just been a weird few days for me. A weird month, to be honest. But I hate that he left you like this," she commented, her voice soft. She stepped forward and touched her nose beneath Ceara's chin, a gesture of friendship as gentle as the brush of a feather. "It breaks my heart to see you so sad all the time."

And somehow that was worse.  Maybe if Raven would've been angry with her she would've been able to toughen up, and maybe after the conversation was over she could reflect on her words — she was sad all the time, and it was hurting other people.  But the only thing that came to mind now as that warmth leaked into Raven's yellow-yolk eyes, as the woman she's fallen for slower than anyone else makes to touch her — ! — was I love you, as abrupt and genuine as it had been when she'd been bathed at the lake.  

But now there were facial expressions to go with it, and the intention behind those words was unmistakeable.  She is horrified with herself and it shows clearly across her face and now those tears do spill out because honestly, she's a fucking pitiful wreck.  I'm so sorry.  That's not — that's inappropriate, I'm — oh god


it wasn't fair to her it wasn't fair to quixote it wasn't fair to their kids it wasn't fair to her


and she doesn't realize she's holding her breath, standing there trembling andwaiting for the inevitable fallout.

They called her Fire because she burned everything she touched.

When next she spoke, the words that fell from those black-lined lips made Raven's heart stop.

I love you.

She suddenly recalled that moment at the lake, Raven ministering to her heat exhaustion whilst Ceara sobbed and shook. Was she the reason for the Blackthorn's sorrow? She thought of all the work Ceara had done, how far above and beyond the call of duty she had gone to prove herself to her alphas and stand out in her pack. She thought of Ceara's gardens. Suddenly all of that took on a different significance. Had Ceara done all of that for Raven? To catch her eye, make her notice her? Had Ceara been in love with her all this time while Raven went on with her life, totally oblivious? She felt such a deep, sinking sense of horror and sadness creep into her at that thought. It was just so cruel, so unfair.

Sharp, painful pressure in her chest brought her back to the present as she realized she wasn't breathing. She took a deep breath as Ceara apologized and stammered that she knew it was inappropriate. Raven turned her gold eyes up to the Blackthorn's face and, with a minute shake of her head, said in a voice barely above a whisper, "No it's not."

For love was not something that should ever be apologized for. It was not something that should be a source of shame or embarrassment. It was this that Raven upheld above all: love was beautiful, transformative, pure. In it was the power to tear down mountains and boil seas, to burn away everything else in the cleansing fire of its passion. To create life from nothing.

While it might have been inconvenient at times, love was never inappropriate.

And there is that inevitable fallout that creeps up in Raven and instantly she wants to swallow her words.  If she could take back everything from the moment she'd followed Tuathal to this damned place she would have.  Every crack in Raven's heart is one in her own and she was already so fragile.  

She very nearly turns to run.  But then Raven speaks.  Her words are but a whisper but their impact hits her again like a sack of bricks.  Did this mean...?  She can't help the glimmer of hope that limns the heavy shroud of darkness that had been so suffocating just moments before.  She blinked what felt like in slow motion as she opens her mouth and comes up short.

It's not inappropriate.  But what is it, then?  You don't. . .?  It is first started as a statement but she can't help the way the last syllable quirks up in the inevitable question.  She has to hear it to know, she has to have it affirmed.  She closes her eyes to avoid drowning in that piercing, somehow all-knowing sunset gaze.

oh god...I am so sorry I let this go for so long. Life’s been NUTS lately (but in a good way)

Raven found herself...floundering. She wasn’t sure what to say, or what Ceara expected from her. What Ceara wanted was not Raven’s to give — it already belonged to Quixote, and while the alpha couldn’t rule out the possibility of romantic love between herself and Ceara, somehow she didn’t feel that Qui would be too enthused about it. She had never been the center of attention before; she wasn’t used to being an object of desire like this. It left her confused and a little speechless, unsure of what to say or do. She feared that the tiniest misstep here could send her friend, who was clearly keeping her shit together by scarcely more than a thread, spiraling into depression or worse. It was no mystery to anyone how badly Ceara wanted to love and be loved.

Yet there she stood, a silent grey storm of emotions roiling behind taciturn eyes — waiting. Perhaps she was hoping for some grandiose profession of love, but in that moment, all the alpha could feel was guilt. Shame and sorrow for being so blindly and inadvertently causing her friend pain. ”I...I’m sorry. For being so clueless. I didn’t know.”

 

you're ok!!! <3 <3 <3  glad to hear things have been good!

An eternity passes between them.  Each inhale, she is born again, each exhale she passses away.  Eventually her eyes open again, and Raven's expression has morphed into choppy stormwater.  She feels her heartbeat in her throat, in her ears.  One step forward and two — she wants to comfort Raven because it wasn't her fault — but was it appropriate here?  After that kind of confession?    The only thing keeping Ceara rooted to the ground is her respect for Raven's relationship with Quixote.  

"I... I'm sorry.  For being so clueless.  I didn't know."

Somewhere far away, there is a stormcloud limned in golden light.  It wasn't no, but that didn't mean it was a yes, either.  She can feel tears pricking up again but she blinks them away and turns her head as she makes an awful sputtering noise.  It's not — I mean, she falters, swiping a paw gently across the ground as she ghosts a step closer.  No, it's okay, it's not your fault.  It's not like it would have done any good anyway.  

She clears her throat.  If Raven would allow it, she'd make to press her cheek against the plush midnight fur at the other woman's and run her face down towards the base of her neck; a wolf version of a tender hug.  I don't want you to feel bad.

Raven sits motionless, lost for words, as helpless as a frigate tossed about on the stormy seas of emotion that rage inside her. She does not know what to say that can assuage Ceara's torment, yet she is terrified to speak the truth, the reality of things. Instead, she lowers her head and allows Ceara to press into her, the hug warm and comforting despite the potential implications that might accompany it. She sighs, lifting a forearm and wrapping it lightly around the Blackthorn's shoulder, and they remain that way for a moment.

"You know," Raven begins, her voice somber. "You're one of the best friends I've ever had." Golden eyes glance up at Ceara's face, so sad and beautiful. "I love you more than I love some of my own family. But I...I don't know how to be more than that to you. Not without breaking Quixote's heart." Her voice fades to a whisper on that last bit, as she realizes she would rather fling herself from a mountaintop than do anything to cause that sweet man an ounce of grief.

There is something that swells inside her as Raven's foreleg drapes drowsy around her shoulders.  They are two women, secret and shifting, embraced beneath the soft, dying golden breath of twilight.  She can't help the way she tenses and tingles and flutters, the twist in her heart, even if it can't last.  Even if it's wrong.  That last bit is something new.  She's always had such a strong moral compass that this should be abhorrent to her, but she can't bring herself to associate feeling like that with how she sees Raven.  

He doesn't have to know.  Wait, no, shit, not like that.  Quickly, she rectifies, I mean, nothing has to change.  Nothing has to happen.  I just.. wanted it to?  Say it.  Say it, you dumb bitch, you can't make anything worse than it is.  No, she knows.  She pulls back and laughs, but the sound is hollow and empty.  I don't think Quixote would like sharing too much.  And I think he might be a little too traditional for anything other than monogamy.

So where does that leave us?  You already know what you mean to me, Rave.  And if that meant tempering herself to watch Raven lead her life from the sidelines.. well, she wasn't sure if she could handle that but she'd do her damn best to try.  We can try.  Or not.  I'll, y'know.  She shrugged, swept her paw again in a vague gesture.  I'm sure I'll be okay.

Quick one to wrap this up! <3

While Raven had never felt the specific desire to have more than one lover, she couldn't really wrap her head around why anyone might be offended by it or find it distasteful. Having grown up with polyamorous parents, it was simply a natural and normal thing for her. But she knew that it wasn't a widely-accepted practice, and somehow she knew that Quixote would not be as accepting of it as she might be. Still, her mateship with him was relatively new, and there were so many things they hadn't learned about one another yet. Who knew? Perhaps he might surprise her yet.

She leaned forward and touched Ceara's nose with her own -- an encouraging gesture of friendship and support. "I need to get back to the pups, but I want you to know...I don't judge you," she said, her voice soft and her eyes full of affection and compassion. "In fact, this changes nothing in my eyes. You're special to me, always will be. And don't worry -- this will remain between us. Okay?" She smiled at her friend, the tip of her tail flipping back and forth as she rose to her feet.

It means a lot, she chokes, referring to not just one specific thing Raven had said.  How was she so good at this?  Ceara was a bomb that could go off at any given moment, and Raven handled her with such delicacy.  

Consider it diffused, for now.  I'm gonna, I gotta get out for the night.  I'll see you 'round, Rave.

Then she turned on her tail as soon as Raven had departed to be with her mate and children and bolted directly out of the territory.