Nova Peak If you must work, work to leave some part of you on this earth

Set some time after this, prior to Wylla officially departing. Permission was granted for assumptions re: Phaedra's decision.

Fresh wounds slashed through Wylla's heart as she parted ways with her daughter. She couldn't hold it against Phaedra that she wanted to stay here with her father where the world was familiar; despite all that Mahler had done to Phaedra, they had always been much closer in a way. Wylla hadn't reached out when her daughter withdrew, and maybe that was her biggest mistake. Either way, she would be leaving one child behind.

So she sought the other one, following urgently along his freshest scent trail and avidly avoiding anyone else. Part of her was tempted to tell @Thade that he must come with her, so that she could have some tiny part of the family she'd made, instead of always giving and giving and getting nothing in return for it. But she knew she could not force him. It wasn't fair to him. Moreover, it wasn't fair to Mahler as their father, not that she was at all concerned with his feelings at the moment.

It was taking every ounce of her willpower to keep up a steady face and a brisk walk when all she wanted to do was come undone, and she had no room in her head for any other thought.

Wylla would find her son sulking, much as he had been since his public spurning. The lanky teen lounged pitifully at the frosted brim of a large pond and stared at his own murky reflection, wondering what was wrong with him. Unable to fathom why he felt so small inside himself, or why he spent so much time regretting nearly every action that he took.

Thade turned his head at the sound of steady approach. When he saw it was his mother, the masked Dirk gave a small whine and rolled to his side in the dirt, entirely supplicant. His tail wagged from between his legs, as a nervous grin twitched up the ends of his mouth. He expected that she was here to berate him privately for his childish behavior at the pack meeting, driving him to act accordingly. On more than one occasion, Thade had gotten the rebellion beaten out of him, and he was a meeker wolf for it.

Not exactly the champion son that he imagined she wanted.

She found him not too far away, and found herself awash in guilt when Thade rolled upon seeing her. Her discipline from earlier now seemed horribly short-sighted and cruel. Her poor son had spent a lot of time on his own with some stranger that called herself his Mother; could Wylla really blame him for not understanding the norms of the hierarchy, when to behave as a subordinate and when to behave as a child?

Baby, she tearfully crooned, ignoring the fact that he was approaching his ninth month earthside and stood taller than her when he was not bowed in submission. How could she hope to take him from the home he'd only just rediscovered? Even if it would spite the man who had crushed her completely under the heel of his indifference? The choice wasn't hers to make, but for just a moment, she wanted to pretend that she hadn't drawn a line in the sand and pounded it into a fracture.

I'm so sorry, she murmured, lowering herself alongside him to press her face into his shoulder, gasping in a desperate breath of him.

Rather than the reproach he excepted, Thade found his mother low with him, despairing and apologetic, bringing him into unfamiliar territory. He stiffened, as if expecting her teeth, but when he could only feel her closeness, and her need, the adolescent softened. No, Mama, he breathed, fussing over her ears with his nose. I’m sorry… but I know better now, ok? I won’t mess up like that again.
 
He nuzzled his head down underneath her chin and laid his large, narrow head upon her slender forelegs. And I’m not scared like them idiot newcomers, Mama. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Sagtannet’s safe, I promise, he vowed, feeling that disloyalty would cost him whatever love and respect she had for him, as it had cost the others who had spoken against her. He didn’t think it would matter that he was her only son — not if she could not trust him to have her back at all costs.

She felt the cool touch of her nose between her ears and the solid foundation of calm purpose she'd been trying to maintain crumbled a little more. You didn't know, she breathed. Thade had never been part of a pack rally before. If she'd known the whole thing would go south so quickly, she never would've reprimanded him. She would've drawn the necessary strength from him so that Mahler's rejection would sting that much less.

I know you will. You're very brave. In the aftermath, she knew that Asra and Taikon were very brave as well, but also very stupid. At least Asra, while questioning her choices, had not looked her in the eye. If Taikon had not done that, there would've been more of a discussion. Maybe they could've all come to a decision that suited not only the wolves, like herself and Stag, but the tame dogs as well. It had been incredibly impetuous of her to call an end to the rally that quickly, but the damage had been done. Giving them a chance to voice their concerns and figuring out a course of action that suited all would not have erased how easily she was disrespected in front of everyone. That effect would've lasted, and her hold on the pack's leadership would've weakened.

And Mahler. He would still not have supported her. She believed, now, that he could never support her the way she needed as his equal, because he was too fat-headed to view anyone as his equal. Men always had their disgusting egos, and he was no different.

Listen, Thade, she said, pulling away and swallowing a raw breath. When stuff like that happens, and the pack does not respect their leader any longer, the leader cannot hope to lead them forward. It would have been alright, but... But your papa does not respect me anymore, either. That was the killing blow. I'm afraid my time here is at an end, she said, knowing the news should be broken delicately, but not having the means to ever do anything with a soft touch. Your sister is staying here with your papa. You are old enough to decide for yourself if you want to stay, too.

Thade had melted through Wylla’s praise and acceptance of him, his tail swishing steadily, as he was (not for the first time) relieved to be reminded that this was what having a real mother felt like. He was glad to know that he had been right about Mother all this time, as she could have never seemed this warm, or as close to him, as this she-wolf did now — a fact made all the more glaring when one realized that he had spent almost as much time in Mother’s company as he had hers. And, despite all her time and efforts, the changeling had always known it wasn’t there that he belonged.

But where exactly did he belong?

He didn’t know he’d have to have an answer right then. Or that his answer would mean separating from one parent. He wasn’t prepared at all for what Wylla sprung on him, and for a moment after his genial wagging had slowed to a stop, he could only stare at her blankly. Wait, what d’you mean your time—? Oh.

His eyes moved first: dragging downward as he considered the gravity of it all, then darting back up to her face as the panic set in. His emerald gaze widened, and the rest of him tensed with a furious possessiveness. No, no, no. She could not leave.

She could not leave.

You can’t leave, he argued, instantly making his very first demand as a wolf that was apparently capable of making his own decisions. Since I’m old enough to decide, then I decide you can’t leave. This, this isn’t right! He rose as his voice did, and stood over her with his head bowed and his gaze harboring a glint of frustrated madness; of mounting desperation. He could tell how serious she was — he knew this wasn’t a game and that he stood to lose her forever, if not his father.

No, he added with finality, barely keeping the quiver out of his pubescent voice. I won’t let you go.

She'd readied herself for a negative reaction, having already suffered it from Phaedra before they came to an agreement, but she wasn't expecting Thade to tell her she couldn't leave.

If he wasn't her son, she'd laugh in his face. The pack had spoken, and Wylla had already begun to twist the story in her own mind to better serve her. It made it easier to deal with the consequences of it if she convinced herself that she'd had no choice but to leave Sagtannet. Truly, she didn't feel like she did. Without Mahler's support, her hold on her rank was tenuous at best, and now the entire pack had seen that they could challenge her authority with impunity. She would need to fight for every scrap of respect or loyalty from the wolves who lived under her protection now. She'd been there before. She couldn't do it again.

You have to, she told him firmly, but her voice was as fragile as cracked glass. A facade. She was barely holding herself together, and Thade's reaction wasn't helping any. I wish it didn't have to be this way, baby, but it does. Your father does not want me here any longer. That wasn't strictly true. It was something she read into his lack of support, another exaggerated assumption of the meaning behind his inaction, but it was her truth. I'll never be really gone, though. I promise. I'll stay close enough that you and your sister can always call upon me, and I will answer, if you would rather stay here.

A lofty promise. It was extremely unlikely she would be able to keep it. She intended to stay close enough to be available for her children, but it depended a lot on how her former packmates treated her if they found her in neutral ground, or if she ran into the Rusalkans, or if she happened to range a little too far in search of food one day. A cold stone found its way into her throat at the thought of struggling to find enough to eat on her own. She shoved it away, unwilling to think about that now.