Blackfeather Woods i'll wait to be forgiven, maybe i never will

slight PP to make this thread roll, hope that is ok @Maegi

blackfeather woods was not without its changes; the black forest had seen many seasons, many more monarchs, and many souls pass through its dark halls. it had endured wars, and loss, had witnessed triumphs and suffered great sorrows -- it was an old, fathomless forest, imbued with the spirits of those past and present.

astara had noted, for perhaps the third time in her young life, a new change in the forest. it was not the snow receding nor the gradual groaning of awakened roots that called to her attention -- it was the sudden intrusion of new scents. some she recognized immediately, and others remained a mystery -- but if shapes were moving in their forest, astara (or averna) was likely the first to know.

determined to find the source of interruption in the forest, and to get to the bottom of why it appeared of interest to wolves again when only a month prior it had been a ghostland save for her sister and her ailing mother, astara firmly marched after maegi's scent with a deep scowl set across her smooth features.

Maegi had wondered whether she'd run into the little shadow girl again. She was checking her old caches when she caught the flash of ebony a little ways away, and turned, fixing an impassive but not unfriendly stare upon the girl. Her sister? Ramsay didn't seem to think so. So then it came down to who she trusted more—Ramsay or Relmyna.

Ha, good joke. But still. . .they looked so similar, bar her brother's twisted spine. How could it not be?

Hey. . .Astara, she pulled the name out of the depths of her mind, remembering that the late Listener had called her so when she was on the mend from eating "deadly pink." (Maegi wondered, too, if she was still so impulsive.) She fell silent, waiting for the girl to finish coming her way.

it was not long before the nightcub came upon maegi. her cool indigo gaze apprised the woman silently, hiding the sting in her heart to see a wolf of her mother’s collapsed clade. astara recalled little of her formative days, but she knew her mother harbored in her heart a softness for the wayward melonii.

likely, there was much maegi did not know about blackfeather’s collapse. astara would have to show her in the only way she knew how.

she drew to a stop and then smoothly executed a pirouette — only once did she look behind her to see if maegi followed.

As usual, the dark girl was without words, instead spinning and going the opposite direction. Maegi figured it for the usual obstinance Astara had shown before; it was only when the other wolf looked back to her that she realized she was meant to follow.

She broke into her awkward, hobbling gait, padding after Astara with slightly-irritated confusion painted over her face. She had never known what quite to think of Relmyna's girls, especially after what the woman had told her about Cicero. At their best, they were a fascinating diversion; at their worst, well, she was saving them after they decided to gobble down a poisonous plant.

So this really could go one of two very different ways.

omg i forgot about the eating the plant hahaha

astara slowed her gait, realizing her brisk gait was inappropriate given maegi's limb. she was patient as she ducked and dodged through the heather, and when she came at last to the altar she broke into a run.

on the stone face of the grim altar's steps sat a thin bone, the pelvic arch of her dam. she nimbly lifted it from the ground and proffered it to maegi, first lifting her head so that it fell down, sliding past her slim muzzle and resting on her neck like a ghastly torc. she then bowed her head and it slid past her ears, landing in the earth with a gentle clatter.

the gesture was the only way astara could connect the bone to her; in bearing it like a necklace, perhaps maegi would see she had come from such a bone -- and that the ivory token was the last artifact of blackfeather's listener.

memories.....like the corners of my mind

Maegi followed Astara diligently, face growing a little surprised (and perhaps territorial) as they headed toward the Temple. She watched as the girl took the bone from the altar and wore it around her neck, as if to illustrate something, and then let it fall to the ground. Maegi stared at it for a long moment, then back at Astara, then down again. . .and her expression slowly grew to one of horror.

Is that. . .your mother? she asked slowly, like someone dipping their toe into cold water. She didn't quite know what to say. She certainly wouldn't have worshiped Potema's bones like this. Was this Astara's way of telling her what had happened? If so—

Flicker told me what happened, Maegi murmured, eyes softening. I'm really sorry, Astara. I hate that I wasn't here for her at the end. And that was the truth. The other Brotherhood sect had been a mistake. Her place had been here; that spirit raven had led her astray.

astara had stepped back, allowing maegi time and space to process the gristly sight. she kept her gaze averted, studying the dark column of trees with an inscrutable look clouding her expression. she only tore her gaze from the bare canopy when maegi spoke, and her eyes fell on the slim bone with a sense of sorrow.

of course it was her mother -- but as maegi continued elaborate, she felt a chill grip her heart. like so much of blackfeather, maegi had not been there in the end -- her mother's end -- blackfeather's end. it had only been her, averna, and relmyna. even kove had only been a lingering presence, no more substantial than the shade of a ghoul.

she refused to meet maegi's gaze, for a welt of tears had risen to her eyes as maegi brought up the end, and relmyna's death. 

apologies didn't matter, being here now didn't matter to astara. none of it did - relmyna was dead and her cubs lived on, motherless and loveless in the dark forest that cloistered them like a secret.


her fur on end, astara rose suddenly. she was stiff-legged and could feel a wave of adolescent rage and crippling hysteria begin to overcome her. none of them had been there - not maegi, not damien, not wintersbane, not flicker, not tundra - a bile rose in her mouth and the girl quickly stalked away, fur bristling and head held tilted to prevent the tears from sliding down her burning cheeks.

Oh shit, oh shit. She didn't deal with tears well at all, and panic began to grip her as she noticed the indigo eyes glimmer suddenly. Before she could say something—but seriously, what?—Astara rose and was away at a fairly quick clip. Maegi stood, too, and started after her at a significantly slower pace.

Astara, hey, I'm sorry— she called out, but she knew it was too late. The girl had vanished back into the Mire, and Maegi was left beside what remained of the Listener, the woman who had once wanted her to ascend to that position.

She glanced at the pelvis, grief burning in her throat. I am sorry, Maegi whispered, shaking her head. I don't know why I keep making the wrong decisions. When I stay, I should have left; when I leave, I should have stayed. She bent down and gently took the bone in her mouth, placing it atop the Altar.

Maegi might not have believed in Mephala any longer, but Relmyna had always shown such unwavering faith in the Night Mother. And so the Melonii touched her muzzle to the stone slab and began to say a prayer she hadn't in quite some time—and it had been even longer since she had believed in it—but this wasn't for her. It wasn't for Maegi.

“Oh, Mephala.
Mighty weaver of our destiny, receive our prayer.
Have mercy on us, speak to us in our dreams—
Because we are your unworthy servants.”

Shijetra nyke, Rȳbassis, she whispered, and then padded away, without another glance back.

the tears that threatened to break the girl’s stern composure loomed; she was thankful then her thin back had been turned so maegi could not witness them. 

her retreat into the thicket continued, pausing at the drone of her sister’s voice. a prayer, weeks too late. astara’s smooth muzzle wrinkled in a contorted sneer of anguish, but the bullish girl refused to turn back, and only continued further into the mire.

As she retreated, she noticed that Astara did stop—and for a moment, Maegi thought there was a chance. A chance to make amends with her sister(?). But before she could even make a move in that direction, the girl was gone again, vanishing into the Mire. Alas.

Maegi glanced back at the Altar, sighed, and carried on in another direction. It wouldn't do to run into the girl again, not with the clear enmity she still held for the elder Melonii.

down through snarling tangle and brush astara peeled, heedless of thorns that nicked harsh at her pelt. by now the tears she had just barely held at bay rolled hotly down her cheeks - where had they all been, when her mother had needed them?

when she had needed them?

the shadow did not look back at maegi, who like as not was perplexed by astara's distance. still troubled by seemingly insurmountable grief, the nightcub waded through the mire, just wanting to be alone.