Sequoia Coast Ocean of Stars

Wraen had grown weary lately and the overwhelming sadness that had once haunted her mother Osprey, brother Terance and unbenknownst to her sister Sarah as well, caught up with her one evening. She woke up with a start, feeling anxious and afraid, her heart racing and body trembling. All was quiet and peaceful at the copse, but the feeling that the invisible enemy was nearby did not leave her. Never the realization that she was friendless and alone, that there were no bright prospects for her future, had hit her so strongly as in that particular moment. The only feasible solution had seemed to escape. Put distance between herself and the problems. Go far, far away in hopes that this would solve something.

It didn't. She spent the next day wandering along the coastline, restless and unhappy, until she reached the Sentinels and sought shelter in an abandoned den. There she curled up in a ball and cried herself asleep. Nightmares of people dear to her gone, killed, dead, turned to ashes. Firebirds banishing her for helping Kiwi, friends turning away from her, her unable to find a home. So many fears dancing like flames, eating every single good thing in her life away. Until nothing was left back a black, botomless void. She woke with a start and crept out of the den to breathe. It was around mid-night. The moon was looking down kindly at the lone she-wolf and the ocean of stars twinkled merrily with not a single care in the world.

Wraen had never learned to read and listen to the tiny diamonds that were scattered across the dark blue coat of Mother Night. But for a moment though she thought she heard their voices clearly, telling her about the flow of time and, how all things - both bad and good - eventually pass.

It had become increasingly difficult to be around his family and the other children especially after Colt had passed away. After his conflict with Bronco and Sugar Glider he avoided the rendevouz's site and slept on his own away from the rest. He could not stand any one of them, sometimes his blood was boiling with the hatred and contempt he felt for his cousins his father, the other adults. Until it boiled over the top and one evening he made a firm decision to run away. 

He had wandered around borders of Sun Mote Copse plenty of times, even visited the nearby territories. Now with newfound courage he went out in the unknown lands and moved further and further, until the familiar smells faded away and the landscape became unfamiliar. Scents of salt and sea-weed greeted him, when he reached the ocean-side, where the boy remained standing, watching the vast steely-blue waters roaring and waves hitting the cliffs below with colossal force. Anger melted away and strange joy filled his heart.

He had never truly realized, how stale and heavy the atmosphere of his home had been. Now he felt euphoric. Leaving had been the right decision all along. He walked east-wards, now along the shoreline, until by a long-ago destroyed stretch of woods he caught scent of Wraen. His first reaction was annoyance, thinking that she had tracked him down and was there to drag him back to the copse. But then he reminded himself that despite his misgivings about other packmates Wraen was okay. She listened and she did not judge.

Therefore he proceeded and eventually found her on her own, deep in thoughts, watching stars above. "Hey!" he greeted her quietly and approached her, hoping that he would not startle her.

Wraen had not expected to have company - Elfie least of all - because the Sentinels were hardly inhabitable place for prey and predators alike. The ruins of the glory days past, the ghosts of dreams and heroes that wandered among the destroyed trees was not a hospitable environment. And though she felt sorry for the place, she was glad for the solitude it offered.

She sighed and turned to face the boy, smiling at him kindly and feeling glad that the darkness hid the marks of her tears and sad expression in her eyes. "Hey - how did you come here?" she asked him in a friendly curiousity. Reprimanding him for being so far away from the copse would be counter-productive. It was no secret to her that her star-pupil was not the easiest person to be around in the pack and the troubles Eljay had in containing his son and having a reasonable relationship with him was affecting other children too.

Elfie half-expected the "what are you doing here?" question in the annoyed and suspicious tone and was relieved that Wraen did not seem angry and there were no looming lectures on, how to be safe and sound within the borders of Sun Mote copse, on the horizon. Because, boy, had he heard that lesson for more times than he cared to remember. 

"I..." he bit his lip, trying to come up with a feasible explanation, why he was here away so far away from home. It was not that it was forbidden, rather the distance mattered. Wandering with the sounds and scents of copse nearby was one thing, but it was entirely another to realize that no one else was around. "I found your tracks. What are you doing here?" he asked his own question hastily, so that Wraen would not have a chance to dig in the reasons too deep.

That's it? Wraen looked at the boy, feeling intinctively that there was more to the story and expecting him to reveal it. But this did not seem to happen and she knew that prying would not help her either. She decided to give Elfie time and return to the matter later. Let him make the decision to be honest with her. Or not.

"I was born here, this is, where my parents fell in love and married," she told him. "Not much of it is left now. I was not here, when the fire destroyed this place completley, though, when I look up, the trees feel just as tall as they did, when I was a kid," she explained, smiling. "It is a nice place to come and think. And remember."

Elfie did not see the same magic in the place that Wraen did, but he was slowly learning that there were other points of view besides his own and that much to his disappointment his take on things was not always the correct one. Though in case of the latter he was still chewing on it, refusing to gulp it down, in hopes that - perhaps - the solid metaphorical bone would turn into something else.

However, mention of Wraen's parents did spark his interest, because he had never viewed his mentor as someone, who could have had a different family from his. Which made sense in a way, because the Redleaf woman was not related to either Finley or Elwood. "Where are your parents now?" he asked and looked around, as if they would spring out of the bushes any time now.

"They died in a forest fire last year," Wraen replied in level voice. Her rational mind had accepted the sad fact with less emotion than either Maia or from what she had heard Sarah had. Perhaps, it was the distance thing - she had not been there to witness their demise - or maybe she had always known that such day would come. If fire had not reaped them, something else would have. 

"My sister Sarah survived to tell the story," she added, thinking briefly of her queenly sibling and wondering, how was she doing now, a year later. But that thought did not stay for long. Sarah was a survivor and certainly not someone, who would dwell in past too much.

Elfie had learned about fire this year during a thunderstorm. Lightening had hit a tree and pieces of charred and burning would had fallen on the ground. He had been drawn by the unusual sight, light and warmth and had recoiled in pain and horror, when it turned out that it stung unpleasantly too. One of the adults - he could not remember, which one had it been - had explained. Except in his memory the flicker of fire was small. How could it claim a whole forest and a wolf was beyond him. 

"Why didn't they run away?" he asked, having already jumped to the conclusion that dying was something adults did deliberately. His mom and Colt were prime examples and it seemed that Wraen's parents had been just as irresponsible.

Good question. Wraen did not know for sure, but she suspected. If life flowed strong in your veins you did all to survive. Both Osprey and Dante had many reasons to live. If they had stayed back, while the rest of the pack had moved, there had had to be something wrong. Unlike Elfie she did not blame them at all, she just wished that they had met their deaths in peace and without pain. They had earned at least that. 

"Maybe they could not. Fire can be stronger and more devastating than you can imagine. The Sentinels - this place - was ravaged by fire as well," she beckoned to the bare, black tree trunks that were interspersed among the thick greenery that had sprouted and occupied the once park-like area, making it difficult to cross now. "It's a horrible force, you cannot always fight it."

Wraen was not lying, but Elfie did not want to believe it. Surely there was a selfish reason for them not to want to save themselves. And that idea was so deeply ingrained in his brain by now that he voiced it aloud too: "I think that they just gave up and did not want to fight. Adults do that. Mom gave up and Colt gave up too."

There was a defiant tone in his voice, when he said this. It was a truth that he had learned by himself and it had grown into unshakeable belief. If you worked hard enough, if you fought, you could not lose. Never. Failures happened, when people did not have courage.

Wraen was surprised to hear this and wondered, what had given Elfie that kind of impression. But she did not question, did not argue with him or tell that it was tactless to say so. There was a truth in his words - some people did give up in a moment of weakness - but neither Wildfire, nor Colt, nor her parents had been of that kind. They had had plenty to live for, there simply had not been enough time. 

"I do not think it's that simple and one-sided," she carefully chose her words, because it was a tender subject. "Death does not play by any rules, Elfie. And I sincerely believe that if Colt or Wildfire had had one wish to be granted, they would have wanted to stay with you as long as possible."

Elfie did not have much to argue against, because he was not particularly empathic yet and therefore could not imagine himself in the place of one person or the other, especially the dead people. You could not speak for them, you could only guess. And it might not be true and therefore a lie. 

"But they were selfish in doing so," he approached the matter from a different perspective. "Didn't they know, how many people they would hurt, when they chose to die or simply died," he asked her. "Dad is a mess and now grandma Finley is a mess too and Bronco does not know it yet, but his mom is going to be a mess as well," he told.

"That's the price you pay for people you love," Wraen replied, feeling privileged to have glimpse behind the closed doors that were Elfie's heart. He was not one to reveal his feelings easily. You would sense that not all was right with him, but in communication with her he had never thought it necessary to burden her with his troubles. He had been an eager student, thirsty for knowledge. Eljay was shut out of that place and deliberatley pushed away. And from the strained relationship he had with other children now, it was not likely he had had a confidate to talk about, what troubled him. Maybe the difficulty lied there that he could not name himself, what exactly irked him. 

"I think they did and it did not make dying easy," she answered his question.

"Yeah, right, whatever," Elfie brushed away Wraen's words impatiently, though later, when he would be on his own, he would reluctantly return to them and try to make sense out of them.

"I just wish that they would stop existing as ghosts. They are dead, they are no more. They should not be troubling people that are still alive," he went on. "And then there is stupid Sugar Glider putting flowers on their graves every day and making everything worse," he referred to the most recent encounter. 

"I try to make them understand that it is pointless, but they do not. Bronco even tried to attack me," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

So that's, what it was. Wraen did not blame Elfie for his manner of coping with death and felt sorry that his endeavours (though not entirely blameless as he tried to make them sound) were fruitless. You could not and should not attempt to change people. You could grow around them, adapt and learn to tolerate. But personalities were set in stone. 

"Why do you think that Sugar Glider makes things worse?" she asked, because personally she had nothing against the little girl, who tended for the graves. Even though the habit was a tad bit peculiar and not to her taste.

"She keeps the ghost alive," Elfie had a ready answer to this. He loathed the habit and wished that she would stop doing that. That any adults would see flaw in her ways and make her cease it. Because every fresh flower she laid there, made him recall of all the wrongs that had happened because those two people had died. She did not let the memory fade, turn into dust and grass. She tended to it's flame and it did not stop to flicker. It kept burning those that were still hurting.

"Umm... it is true," Wraen nodded in agreement. "I think that Sugar Glider tending for the graves has little to do with how either your father or your grandmother feel now," she said calmly, feeling that she was entering dangerous waters again and hoped that Elfie would leave the gates open just long enough for her message to get through. Who knew, when the opportunity would present itself again. 

"You see - Wildfire, your mother, was love of your father's life. She meant everything to him, he waited years to have his affections returned and just, when he seemed to have his happy ending, she was taken away from him," Wraen told. "If you have such a person in your life, who has been with you long enough to make their loss feel just as acute as their presence... the ghost is hard to let go," she said. "Eljay would feel the same, even if there were no flowers on Wildfire's grave."

Term "love of someone's life" was abstract for Elfie, who did not have any personal experience with it and therefore could not relate to it. He found that it was easier to blame Sugar Glider, because her actions were straightforward and simple than to understand, what his father was going through. Despite this it dawned upon him that he had no reason not to trust Wraen's opinion and, though the explanation was very complex, it was probably true. 

"The ghost is with him then?" he wondered. "But it's not with me, why?" 

"You were quite young, when Wildfire died," Wraen shrugged, because she did not have a ready answer to this inquiry. She just wanted to make sure that Elfie did not feel wronged. "I mean, she was my cousin, I did not know her that well or that long and I do not feel her loss as acutely as your father or grandparents do, who had known her all her life."

"In terms of ghosts - she did not stay long enough for you to have a ghost of her," she tried to explain. "However, if she had been as close as I was to my sister Maia, I would miss her just as dearly. The ghost of Maia is with me, even though I know that she is alive and well, just elsewhere."

"I will think about it," Elfie promised, because there was a lot to mull over, a lot to understand. The analogy with Wraen's sister was easier to comprehend, he just had to imagine, what would it feel like, if anything happened to Weejay. In a sense it had - she had been mourning their mother's death dearly and her pain had reflected on him too. He had wished to correct it, to make it better. 

"Why do they maintain that the dead go to a different world?" he asked then. "I know, what happens to dead bodies, they rot and perish and are crawling with bugs over time. They do not go anywhere. I checked."

"No one dead has returned to tell the story," Wraen said. There were so many theories of, what would happen, when the death occurred. Most were similar, the belief that there was a paralell world somewhere was persistent. 

"What you tell is true. Added to that I believe that therefore we all get only one shot in life," she went on. "However, idea that there is truly nothing behind the veil that this is it for me, you or anyone else is quite hard to accept. It is easier to tell a story that you will move on to a world similar to this one. Because we do not know any better."

"But wouldn't it make it easier to let the ghosts go. When you know that it's... well... it?" Elfie inquired, though he had already deduced the answer. Flowers did not matter and ideas about afterlife did not matter. Something called "heart" was the one that created the ghosts, kept them or let them go at it's will. He hoped that his set was more rational. 

"It's such a mess, really," he sighed and let his gaze wander around. "I do not think that I would have that ghost, if father - you know - left," he admitted, though the words did not sound right and there was an edge of guilt.

Wraen shook her head - Elfie had come to the right conclusion. There was hardly any logic in the matters of heart. His next revelation came as a bit of shock, though she did not believe for one second that he meant, what he had said. Sure - Eljay's and Elfie's relationship had been very rocky for few months now. With one party going crazy on trying to keep everything in control and the other fighting against those attempts with teeth and claws. It was not easy for either of them, but surely deep down they loved each other. 

"What makes you say so?" she asked instead of reprimanding him for his words.

"Don't you see?" Elfie said defiantly, wasn't it obvious to everyone, what was wrong? With almost about everything? "First he was not all there and then all of a sudden he forbids me and Weejay leave the territory and is all over us all the bloody time," there was fire in his voice now and deep-set frown. "If I am not within earshot, he starts going around and looking for me. There is no fun in being around," he explained.

"And you and me do all this cool stuff in hunting and exploring and I can't tell him any of this without being guilt-tripped that -oh, something dangerous might have happened- or -don't you ever do that again- or -stay in the copse, you have everything you need here-!" Elfie let the emotion carry him. 

"It drives me crazy. He does not understand a single thing about me, he does not care about, what I think or I would like to do. It's all about him, him, him and him staying in control," he finished. "I hate him. I do not want to, but often I really do."

"It's that bad, huh?" Wraen listened to Elfie's heated outburst with patience and sympathy. Being a teenager was not any easier than being an adult. Except the former did not have a full freedom of, what he could or could not do, could or could not say out loud. She did not agree with everything Eljay did to ensure the safety of his children and seeing as them both were very good at disobeying she could not blame the poor father for trying harder. Frankly speaking, for her, who toyed with the idea of having her own children in the future, her packmate's troubles with being a parent was a good lesson of, how things could turn out not as planned or expected.

"Have you ever thought talking with him about all this?" she asked, knowing that, if Elfie had told her all this, Eljay had heard none of it.