Otter Creek remain until the end

@Maegi -- I was gonna backdate this for 11/03, unless that's a problem for your timeline!

The flatlands were only as uneventful as had been expected. Life had become a prized jewel, difficult to spot within the monotonous scenery. The famine had affected prey animals, yes, but it also seemed to be weeding out the weaker of the wolves. There was no way to cheat fate, but one might think to ask for mercy.

The journey westward continued after the meeting with the ivory fae. Bhediya, although her goal had been to move until she could move no longer, resigned to resting beside the creek. The moon was beginning a slow rise but daylight remained abundant. Soon, she would have to continue.

not at all!

Mou had returned to the woods, especially during the day, and so she did the same. If they were to live in the forest once more, the borders must be bolstered again. The downed trees and general wreckage made her uneasy, though, and she found herself looking out much more than she looked in, as she walked along the edge of the territory.

It was nearing nightfall when she crossed the trickle of creek that led into the forest and paused, noticing a shadow upstream. The water was healthier there, flowing better, uninterrupted by fallen objects. She padded along the bank to find a tiny dark woman at rest—Coelacanth?

No, but quite like. It made her more willing to trust the stranger, and Maegi approached her, tail flagging. You looked like someone I know, she remarked, striving for a casualness she'd lost in the wake of so much grief. The words still were stilted—but they came easier, at least.

The sound of the stranger's approach roused Bhediya from her semi-conscious state. One green eye fell open after the other, lazily scanning the landscape. A blanchard, not unlike the others, stood nearby. You looked like someone I know, she mused, prompting Bhe to stand.

The ascetic spun around upon short legs to get a better view of her company. With a kind smile engulfing her maw, she replied, I hope that I didn't disappoint you too much. It seemed that age had given her the gift of universal familiarity, for which she was only somewhat grateful.

She felt kind of embarrassed at the reply, wondering if she'd outwardly shown disappointment. Strange, if so—she'd been little more than a ghost lately, wandering the meadow. The Nona shook her head, trying to make the gesture as fervent as she could.

Of course not, Maegi replied. I'd be worried to see her here—she'd be far from home. She thought of Reed, then, and pondered whether the Corten would go looking for the lost seawolf. Jaes, she hoped Reed was safe, wherever she was, even if she was irate by her abrupt departure.

She cocked her head, trying to keep thoughts of her Undersea friends at bay. It did no good to ruminate on hypotheticals. Are you passing through? Where are you traveling? Despite the resemblance, this woman was not familiar to her.

A simple nod of the head was enough to communicate her understanding, or so Bhediya hoped. The Wilds were in complete disarray; wolves were either searching for those who'd been lost or trying to protect the ones that they still had. Bhe mourned along with the former.

I was planning to keep going west, Bhediya replied, but I have someone waiting for me in the east. I'm trying to figure it all out. That was it, she supposed. Presumably, the stranger was smart enough to have aligned herself with a pack for the rest of the season. What about you?

Maegi nodded, not even trying to make sense of directions at the current moment. At least this woman did not find herself alone in calamitous times. I live in the forest, she replied, tipping her chin in illustration toward the trees behind her. My family has made that their home for many seasons, and damned if there wasn't some pride in her voice, just then.

I'm Maegi, she continued, feeling well enough with the interaction to introduce herself. The dark she-wolf didn't seem like a threat to her or Blackfeather. Perhaps there was something they both could gain, here. I hope that the earth's shaking hasn't affected you too terribly, the Melonii said, fervency sharpening the edges of her words.

Their eyes trailed back to the same expanse of land. Bhediya listened to Maegi's words carefully, nodding her head as the other went along. A twinge of anxiety pulled at her ears but she fought to keep her composure. It's good to have a legacy. Something to pass on. 

I didn't arrive until after the worst of it, Bhediya sighed, wondering how much devastation she'd been able to miss. If Maegi's roots ran as deep into the Wilds as was claimed, she wondered how much pain she'd been forced to face.

A smile curved her lips, albeit wry. I agree, she said softly, thinking of her very first lessons. Meldresi, Mephala, the Void. . . When all of it had been a delightful, dark fantasy, and not the nightmare she'd come to know. Her old religion, a legacy of cruelty. Her ancestors' savagery.

But she was leaving her own legacy, one much better than that before. This, she was sure of.

Good, Maegi murmured, happy that the woman hadn't had to endure the horrors of past days. Jaes protect you in your travels to come. Her mind lapsed into Daedric, even as her tongue remained within the common speech.

Jaes was much better suited for her legacy. So much less fickle, less duplicitous than the daedra. One, all-powerful, all-knowing.

It was better this way.

I just realized Bhediya never introduced herself? Rude!

The innate intimacy of the blessing was shocking. It was rare to find a stranger so willing to share in the wealth of their deity. Bhediya made no effort to hide her shock. Thank you, she said. Her voice was low as she thought about what to say next.

Jaes, Bhe echoed, This is your protector? The wolves of her home knew many gods; more than she could name. At a young age, she'd become a devotee of Nani, but the days of her practice were long gone.

My god, yes, Maegi answered, nodding. They have been with me my entire life. They are the guardian of the innocent and the scorned—children, and those who others look down upon. Like me, she thought, the ruined side of her mouth tugging upward in wry fashion.

She blinked at Bhediya, wondering if the woman had beliefs more akin to Wraen's (that being hardly any beliefs at all) or a set of her own deities. Do you have faith? she queried curiously. Sometimes that's all we have in times like these.

She couldn't imagine weathering the storm without. She would feel completely unmoored and adrift.

I.. I did, Bhediya said. The season of faith had long since ended in her life. It was more productive to focus on what was known to be real than what was hoped for, she thought. My gods weren't like yours, though. Their gods had no regard for earthly business. The lowly had to unravel themselves without any help from the heavens.

Nonetheless, Bhediya agreed with Maegi's sentiment. For some, faith was all that they had left. She drew in a deep breath, I have faith in myself and the wolves around me. They had proven to do more good than any god could ever aspire to.

Maegi cocked her head, more intrigued with the first part than the second. The latter just sounded like what Wraen had said, although it was good that Bhediya still had faith in those around her. Death or betrayal, like a mantra in her mind, over and over. That was all it came to.

What were your gods like? she asked. My family worshipped a group of gods called the daedra. Horrible beings, obsessed with blood and fear. There were no adequate words for how much she loathed not only her former religion but the amount of time and care she'd poured into study.

Time she'd never get back. Fervency she could never redirect.

Bloodthirst wasn't the downfall of the southern pantheon. It was their indifference toward their creations and the distinct lack of sympathy for earthly plights. Quiet, Bhediya replied. I would call out to them but they never answered. She remembered the sorrowful nights spent under her master and the suffocating loneliness that resulted. 

It was hard to believe, she continued, that the gods who created me could abandon me just as quickly. Trips made to the wisemen of the pack always ended with the same words of wisdom: They're there, girl. You just don't have enough faith. 

She let out a quiet hum in contemplation. Perhaps it hadn't been the woman's gods at all, but her sensitivity to deities of any kind. Maegi knew that her brothers, particularly Ramsay, had never been close to the divine. That they hadn't heard the whispers she had, from birth. Some didn't have that particular sense within them, and that was fine.

She thought it was probably nice, not having voices in your ear at any given time.

You're not getting rid of me, child. Her god's sardonic voice rang clear; she had to resist the impulse to roll her eyes, instead focusing on Bhediya.

Perhaps those were false gods, she suggested lightly, shrugging. Like the ones of my family. Pray to Jaes, sometime—I wonder if they will hear you and return your call. Jaes would be pleased, she thought, to have new devotees. And pleased with her for bringing them into the fold.

I'm gonna have her exit but I want to start a new thread afterward. LMK if that's okay. :)

The world around them was silent. Thank you, Bhediya said. It was the only comprehensive reply that came to mind. The flattery and discomfort that came with Maegi's invitation were too much to process simultaneously. I'll try.

There was more to see before heading back to the marsh. Bhediya thought that she ought to start moving again to keep the schedule. She stood and stretched, taking a moment to share a sheepish grin with her new friend. I should be going now. Maybe I'll see you again. 

She waited for Maegi's reply then started trotting away.

totes fine!

Maegi hadn't considered that the woman would be taken aback by her request. It seemed natural as breathing, praying. . .at least to her. Why not give it a try, at least? But when the stranger abruptly announced her departure, the Nona couldn't help but think she had said something wrong. Still, she offered a solemn smile in return.

Safe travels, she murmured, probably too late, for the woman was already moving away. Jaes isse, she said, a little louder. May we meet again, if Jaes wills it.

Strange, gods that did not speak. Perhaps even stranger, those that did not hear their voices. Maegi shrugged, wondering at the entire conversation, and began to make her way back to the forest. Coelacanth she was not, but the face Maegi had met today certainly would stay with her.