Witch's Marsh kiss your eyelids in the morning as you start to raise your head

Olive was feeling particularly motivated that day, about many different things. First of all, she had decided to abscond from Elysium that afternoon and spend the night away from her family — Seabreeze was fine now, and the children that they raised together were nearly adults — and this newfound sense of freedom lit her feet a-fire and she ran and ran and ran until she could run no longer and found herself far away from the willows she called home. 

Then, she did something she never did; she killed prey, a juvenile raccoon too curious to know better, and ate it greedily. By this, she felt nourished — if not a little regretful, later.

By the time the Shakti woman had arrived to the wetlands, she was breathless but not tired; not in the least. The ground was frozen solid here, filled with water as it was, and the permafrost allowed the woman to traverse the normally sodden ground with ease. She tried to slake her thirst but couldn’t, so she decided not to care and made the decision to instead frolic through the area, which lay with the lightest dusting of frost, and made merriment amongst the  snowflakes.

being without calder was like being without a shadow, and that was something that took time to get used to. whoever heard of living without a shadow?

but as baby birds left the nest, and tiny turtles made the perilous crawl toward the sea, so too did cortez from his shadow, his strength and stability. his brother was the only constant left in an ever-changing existence; now he was completely unmoored, and it was at once both exhilarating and dreadful.

cortez was much too old for this "striking out on your own" shit. nearly twenty seasons he'd been on this earth and not much to show for it. just a jumbled collection of songs and stories, tales he'd taken from travelers that had long passed him by. he wondered if he would ever make something of himself; he wondered if anyone ever really did.

how did one do that? the notion of success, of "growing up," seemed incredibly subjective. like, some souls just seemed to get it, and others never did. some reached for the stars and latched on, and some plummeted; still others were content to lounge in the sun until it burned them all up and they were one with the ground that had birthed them.

cortez identified most with that latter group, and it sometimes made him sick.

this place was ugly as sin, but at least it was somewhat dry, all frozen over as it was. it inspired nothing within him; it was merely another stop on the road to everywhere and to nowhere. he shuffled slowly and aimlessly through, pushing back the hunger pangs that'd plagued him for days and blinking back the sleep that threatened to suck him down like the swamp mud beneath his paws, 'cept it was—frozen.

the bard yawned and paused, eyelids fluttering shut as he took a quick piss, the urine bouncing off the frost and steaming on the air. thus relieved (in body if not in soul) cortez continued on, lifting his chin when he caught sight of a pale shape nearby. he meant to pass it by if not for the note of damning familiarity in the scent that drifted his way.

well, fuck if it wasn't. . . no. it wasn't, was it? it couldn't be. shit like this just didn't happen; those who left had left and were gone to the dimension wherever all the faces from previous chapters in his life went. none of them had ever wandered back, and cortez was inclined to think that trend would continue.

but he got closer, and his gaze and nose and fucking common sense began to beat down everything he'd ever taught himself about chance and fate. still, if it was a failure in philosophy, it was one that was wholly welcome to cortez.

olive, he called out to her, eyes growing wide—so pale as they were, they more resembled moons than anything else. i'm trapped in a dream or dead; nothing else could explain this. he continued to approach, slowly shaking his head in utter disbelief.

It was not the world’s most beautiful of milieus, but for that moment it was hers and that’s all that mattered. She was a spry wolf despite her years, and she snuffled around in the snow with a sense of glee that was usually reserved for the youthful. There was such pleasure to be derived from simple things, even those things that were not conventionally joyful, and it took a keen eye to see things are they really were. But where there was snow, there was an opportunity to play, and where there was a stranger, there was an opportunity to make a new friend.

When the stranger introduced himself, it took a second for it to register that he had actually used her name — not miss, not lady — so for that second she stuck her nose out closer and tried to scry who this newcomer might be. With her gaze narrowed, she saw that it was a man, with a pelage quite similar to hers, a build that also resembled hers, and an age that matched hers. Then the use of her name struck — Olive — and realization fell upon her like a massive landslide.

Suddenly, the joy she felt only moments prior doubled, then tripled, then even quadrupled! There was so much bursting energy within her body that it was simply impossible to contain, looking upon her brother as she was, so her mouth dropped open and then clipped shut and she rushed forth, not worrying about convention or normalcy or decorum. The fates had given her the most blessed gift, and it needed to be recognized at such!

“Oh, Cortez!” she gasped, stopping only when she was inches away from her womb-brother and even then she moved her face to be centimeters from his, looking closely as if into his soul, to see if this was really him or simply a mirage. His scent was far too real, and when she pressed her nose into his cheek, there was real fur and real warmth that greeted her. He was indeed there, here in the Teekon Wilds, a wolf of her own DNA and genetics. Unless they were her own children, Olive had previously thought this occurrence to be impossible. After all, she had traveled so far since she had left her mother and father and brothers. How had he achieved this feat of fate — and where was Calder?

Her heart continued to beat fast, as did her tail behind her, but her initial amazement at this incredible turn of events no longer boiled over. Instead, it simmered steadily. “You are not dead, nor deceived,” she answered him, “but in a dream, we may be.”  Then she drifted closer, so that their cheeks were touching. “I am so blessed to see you again, brother.” silently, she wondered where is our other-brother? and hoped her might perceive her question through osmosis, or mind-reading, or something like that. Perhaps their connection as siblings might still be that strong. After all, it had transcended time and distance in order to bring these two back together.  

it was her. so much older and yet unchanged by the seasons; he saw through the flesh and the bones and found his little sister, eyes the blue of childhood. his own welled up, suddenly, with unexpected tears, and he pressed his face into her shoulder, less to hide his emotion than to share it with her in a bond that went beyond sight. she would feel the wet of his silent weeping against her pelt and know that he had missed her beyond words. 

one didn't have to be a smart cookie to intuit the question in her eyes, and cortez had always fancied himself more intuitive than most. why wouldn't she wonder about calder? why would the absence of his twin go ignored? it was a subject he was loath to discuss and yet, perversely, it was the only thing he wanted to discuss. and so discuss he did, albeit vaguely, words bubbling over and pouring from his mouth like water out a faucet —

i needed to find myself, olive. i didn't know who i was beyond calder. even when i went away, he was on the other end of my journey, always pulling me back. he deserved to be free; i needed it, even if i didn't want it.

he shook his head ruefully, pulling back to look at her. i never grew up, sister, cortez mumbled through a crooked smile. i had to give myself a kick in the rear. get going or. . .i dunno. i have to make something of myself. i'm not getting any younger.

the bard let the somber attitude fall from him as if disrobing, now naked and youthful in his wagging-tail joy. tell me about you, he insisted. tell me everything. i don't care how long it takes. he had all the time in the world, now. at least for her.

Without missing a beat, Cortez delved into a story that she doubted few others could truly understand. The Olive, Cortez and Calder had all once shared their mother’s womb, but the two boys had emerged into reality together, as such, certain twin-links were afforded to them that simply weren’t available to Olive. With the wonderful and fulfilling childhood she had been gifted, Olive tried not to belabor the fact that she might never have such a close connection with another living being — but there were times she had been jealous of her two brothers. As she could see now, there were two sides to every coin. Where there was plenty of good, there was also the potential for bad.

Olive nodded, understanding how all beautiful things could spoil. She had seen it happen with Dakarai, and knew what it meant to have to distance yourself from the most loving of oppressors — especially when you did not want to. Both Dakarai and Calder had been overwhelming forces that seemingly bulldozed anything in their path, while Olive and Cortez were gentler souls, needing of nuance and balance. Thought it made her sad not to see Calder alongside Cortez for this random chance, fated encounter, she wasn’t surprised that it had come to this.  “You’ve always been something to me, brother.” she affirmed softly and shuffled backwards to press her forehead into Cortez’s. “But I understand.” Olive had about a million more questions, all of them buzzing at the tip of her tongue about mother and father and the many things they all must have seen together, but Cortez beat her to the punch.

How would it be possible to encapsulate all that had happened to her? Certainly this was a subject that would need to take many, many conversations — but she decided to touch upon all the highlights, and oh-so-thankfully, all of the recent highlights were lovely and positive.  “Oh Cortez, so much had happened! You are an uncle of 8, and they’re all just like us — adventurers at heart. I have a wife, Seabreeze… oh, you will just simply love her… We live amongst a sanctuary not too far from here, within a grove of weeping willows — it’s like the one we saw that one time, with mother and father and Calder, but it’s different. Its very holy…” the druid spoke quickly, words spilling out of her mouth faster than her brain could think it, pride and excited nearly jumping out of her throat. Her eyes were wide, youthful and glittering in their exuberance as her tumult of words continued. She felt very much like a young cub again, and in the face of her brother, she folded easily back into such a natural role.

“It’s just splendid. Oh, you’ll come, won’t you? You’ll come see it?”

Finally she paused, and Olive saw fit to recognize the gods once more for their role in all of this.  “The gods are so good to you and I. We are truly blessed, just like mother had said. I still can’t believe you are here… I have dreamt of this day, so many times.” and with that, she gave a hefty sigh and nearly collapsed against her brother, like a hug but more because a hug simply could not possible suffice. When she pulled away [thought she could have easily stayed tucked away against him forever], she questioned him, voice twinged with concern.   "But, Calder… He is safe? Are you safe?” Olive cut him a discerning look, but it quickly melted and softened. “You’re safe now,” she whispered. If the fates wished him to find a place to rest, recover and find himself, Cortez could be no place better. He would forever be welcome amongst her hearth and home. 

oh, olive. so kind—always had been, always would be. cortez could be a deadbeat all the rest of his life and his siblings would still adore him. he supposed that was what unconditional love was all about, but the world didn't love you unconditionally. you had to be something; you couldn't just be. a lot of life was floating on the breeze, but there was some steering involved. up to you whether that breeze took you into the mud or above the clouds.

his tail began to beat faster as she spoke, shaking his head in disbelief. olive, that's incredible, he burst in softly, but she continued on, sharing more and more and more. he had missed her voice, like the purest of melodies. if heaven had a spokeswoman, it was olive shakti. he'd known that from the beginning. and as god's designated press secretary, she could pretty much talk him into doing anything, thus— of course i'll come.

she still believed in the gods, then. cortez wouldn't lie to her, he'd long left them behind, but he'd not try and sway her mind on the matter. if they brought her comfort, he was glad of it. but he had lived a better life since shirking his obligation of duty and fear to invisible things in the air. the vagabond hoped she wouldn't press him on it. knock on wood.

calder's always gonna be fine, he assured her, in fact not truly knowing how his twin fared. he had been hale enough when he'd last seen him, but then, that was calder. best equipped to handle the rigors of this world. he could laugh it off; cortez tended to be beat down by its troubles, and that was where he was deficient, and probably always would be. he's safe. and i'm safe. we're safe, sis. and together. that's what matters.

his lips curve in a smile that could have been called devilish, were it not for the childlike light in his eyes. now, i wanna meet your wife, and these willows you keep raving about. not to mention, he really could use a nap, and probably a bath, too, after this muck.

’the god’s designated press secretary,’ hahaha, nice

Suddenly, everything in the world was right. It was almost as if Olive forgot that bad things could ever happen. I mean, in a universe where two siblings could be reunited on opposite ends of a continent, how could anything ever go wrong ever again? Here, she felt a little less a lone and a little more understood. There were so many different, so many new facets to life now. Almost immediately, everything became that much more interesting.

He did not turn down her offer, but Olive didn’t think that he would. It felt right that her brother would return home with her, and there she would feed his body and nurture his soul. It was clear that he was hurting without Calder — or became of Calder — and Olive wished to offer her brother that bit of respite that he so needed. It might be exactly why the gods led them right back into each other’s arms, driven right into the heart of her sanctuary.

Olive dropped her head and shook it, as if that might help her separate reality from fiction — but it was all reality.  “Seabreeze will just adore you, I know it. I never thought this day would come… I never thought these two parts of my life would ever meet.” Of course, there was her budding romance with Delight to consider, but she would only deign to give her brother one big shock at a time. Olive threw her head back and almost clicked her heels together as she began to lead him towards the willows. It really wasn’t that far, just over the river and through the woods.  “Come this way, it’s not too far. It’s almost as if the gods delivered you right into the heart of Elysium. There could not be a more divine accident.”

As they walked together, Olive affectionately bumped her shoulder and hips against his, brushing their similar heathered pelt together. There were still so many things she wished to know about him and their years apart. What had he done; what had he seen?  “Oh, please brother, tell me of your travels. You have seen so much more of the world than I…” he voice trailed off, almost forlornly at the thought of how she had once been a scout and how much she missed constant travel — but her babies, and the Elysium, were worth it.  “But now, I get to share a little corner of my universe with you,” Olive capped on cheerfully, eyes wide with marvel.

he nodded along with her sentiment, quiet at her side as they walked along. it was true—he didn't think he'd ever see her again. cortez had always just assumed, after she left, that she was just a part of his past, permanently, rather than a face of the future as well. was it coincidence or fate? both? neither? he tried not to get into the habit of questioning good things. he was just happy to have them when they happened.

olive started to prod him for stories, which, of course, he'd happily oblige. the world's not so different here and there, you know, cortez remarked, trying to ease the regret he sensed in her face. sure, you've got all sorts of kinds of trees, mountains in one place and deserts in another—but honestly, olive, wolves are just about the same anywhere you go. you've been lucky to find the best of the bunch, it seems.

a small flock of gulls flew overhead, on their way to the coast, which he surmised was nearby. his pale eyes followed them for a moment before returning to the path ahead, and then flickering over to olive, a grin twisting his muzzle.

you know, a couple days after i left calder, i was all broken up, he murmured. there was utter sadness in his smile, but it remained, if only for what he had to say next. i was lying awake—i couldn't sleep for a moon, honestly—one night when this giant bird landed right next to me, and took a mouse away in its talons. it was like that, he added, jaws snapping with a clack to illustrate the sheer rapidity of the eagle's hunt.

it had a dark body but a head white as snow, and for a moment, it stared right at me. and i swear to god, olive, i never felt as calm as i did in that moment. like everything was gonna be okay. it was amazing. cortez swallowed, seeing those twin golden orbs before him like the bird was here, now.

maybe it was fate, after all.

Close up so we can continue in our new thread? :)

Her brother, the storyteller — she loved so much about him, but this was certainly one of her favorite things. Cortez was the more reserved of the two, far less outspoken that their gregarious brother Calder, but he truly shone when he was weaving and twisting stories with his words. It did not matter if it was an old favorite tale, a true story from personal account, or something he was making up on the spot. Even as a child, he had always the ability to captivate people’s minds.

Olive allowed her mind to go blank as she took in Cortez’s story of the mouse and the eagle, internalizing every word. It was a short story, but not short on impact: Olive new exactly that feeling he was describing, the calm that something came about during very un-calm things. Perhaps that’s what made Cortez such a great weaver of realities, he knew exactly how to inspire the emotions that he wanted to make you feel.

Pausing a moment to let it sink in, she breathed “Wow…” and then stared at the ground again, silent and pondering. Finally, her thoughts were collected. “The bird came for that mouse like fate comes for all of us. We are powerless to change it, so we must surrender to our circumstances. That way… even if death… we create peace.” She turned to face the all-too-familiar face of her dear sibling, exchanging with him a wry smile. “I think you will do well at Elysium, brother.”

yas kween

they made a good team, he realized in the moment. cortez told stories, and olive found deeper meaning within them. he'd always thought of himself and calder as a dynamic duo—and they always would be, in some fashion—but this certainly had potential. he was surprised he had never considered the possibility before, though olive had left so long ago. . .he couldn't be blamed for the lapse.

well said, sis, he said warmly, his smile matching his eyes again. i suppose the only thing to do now is to go to elysium and find out.

cortez took a nimble step back, canting his head as if to say, lead the way. for as much as he'd forged his own path over these past moons, he was more than happy to let someone else trailblaze instead.