Noctisardor Bypass broken pieces

maybe @Sequoia? :D setting: daytime, cloudy

After Mahler had cleaned up the wounds and days had passed, the wounds on Laurel's face and shoulder were starting to get less apparent. There were still a few teeth marks on her face that looked uglier than they were. Most of the wounds would heal again in due time, and most scars would be covered in fur over time.

For days she had hidden away from the pack, not wanting anyone to see how ugly she looked with these wounds, and feeling conflicted at being back here. Praimfaya gone, now. Wolves who had joined. This Wylla... Was she here, now? Laurel did not know what to think of it all. This did not feel like the Rivenwood she had joined on many areas. It'd been a rollercoaster of a few months, but now she felt like she was right back where she was when Easthollow had fallen (or perhaps before it). No warm blanket over her shoulders. No warm nest. No warm home.

Just a place to live.

Birdsong Lagoon, she thought to herself as she lay down by its side and watched her own reflection in the water with a bitter wringing of her heart. You were never pretty, dearest, she heard Iliksis' voice hiss in her head, but you're not making it any easier to love you when you do these kind of things to yourself. Laurel grit her teeth and stared at her own face with a dark expression on her face, clinging on to the only strand of hope she had left to live for right now — Indra.

She was eight weeks old and “all legs,” according to her mother. Unused to the length of her own limbs, Druid grew clumsy. Simply walking proved tricky at times, as she tried to adapt to a rapidly changing center of gravity. There was plenty of opportunity to practice, though, as Sequoia or Mahler took the four pups on nearly daily forays.

They were on a group outing now, when Druid tripped over her own feet for the nth time. @Witch often helped her when she stumbled, or at the very least waited for her, but her sister didn’t notice this particular fumble. Nobody did. Druid sighed as she watched them keep moving, patiently untangling herself.

She was confident in her ability to catch up to them and had no desire to stray. Nonetheless, she glanced backward to see a figure approach the water they’d just passed moments ago. Druid paused, trying to remember if she’d met this particular wolf. She looked a bit like Wylla, though even from here, the pup could see two eyes.

She glanced off toward where her family had now vanished from view, then back toward the stranger. Druid nibbled at her lip, then decided to scamper after her family, though she would not simply forget the unfamiliar she-wolf, crying out softly, Mama! There a stra’ger. Look…

If there were fluctuations in the hierarchy, Sequoia didn't bat an eye at them. She was content to live among the little quartet of puppies while they grew and learned about the world around them. @Skaigona and @Worripa seemed to be settling in okay, but it was hard to tell. Praimfaya's disappearance still baffled the synesthete, but what could Sequoia do but do the best for the children the woman had left behind. Perhaps she had not wanted them in the first place, a thought which had dangled itself in Sequoia's mind quite often lately. As for herself, Sequoia found that she was rather content as a mother.

All the children were growing both "up" and "out," as they say. Druid seemed to have done more of the former lately, giving her a bit of a gangly appearance compared to the rest of her peers. In fact, it was Druid's voice that caught Sequoia's attention, speaking of a stranger. When Sequoia saw who it was, she excused herself from Mahler.

That's no stranger, Legs; that's Laurel! Sequoia said, beckoning Druid to follow her toward the lagoon.

How've you been, lady? she asked, plopping down beside Laurel. Her absence had not gone unnoticed, but Sequoia figured she had left for the same reason that she and Praimfaya had. She assumed Mahler had told all the females of age the same thing: find somebody elsewhere to get your jollies.

Vaguely in the distance Laurel heard voices; she didn't pay them attention at first, not really wanting to draw attention to herself. She didn't want anyone to see how hideous she looked now with the recent wounds still marring her face. Still, she knew she couldn't hide forever.

Vaguely Laurel registered Sequoia calling out her name. A single ear flicked in the direction of mother and child at first, and only when Sequoia approached and asked her how she'd been did Laurel turn her head towards Sequoia. The wounds that Merrick's daughter had left behind were no longer fresh, but they were in the ugly scabbing phase. A few weeks from now they would probably look a whole lot better; half a year from now, most of them would be gone, hidden by her pelt.

The question was not one easily answered. All she could do was put on a smile and say, Oh, fine, even though it was clear from more than just her wounds — her general body language, the twitch of her lips when she said 'fine' — that that wasn't precisely the whole truth. Laurel glanced at the child, though for now didn't acknowledge her yet.

When her mother corrected her, Druid offered a soft, Oh. Then Sequoia beckoned her and the small Sämling scurried to obey, pressing close to the Zweite’s leg as they approached Laurel beside the lagoon.

Both deference and shyness kept her eyes fixed close to the ground, though she did peek up at Laurel once they came closer. She gasped, the sound thankfully drowned out by Sequoia’s chipper greeting. Druid stared for a moment, then remembered to lower her eyes. She moved to sit between her mother’s forelegs, a favored spot that wouldn’t accommodate her comfortably much longer.

Mama, Druid whispered, unaware that Laurel would quite probably overhear, Laurel got boo-boos. Her little brow scrunched, wondering how she’d gotten them. The puppy had collected quite a few scrapes herself during her various tumbles, therefore she could only guess, Did she fall and go boom?

witch was occupied chasing some bug or another as they all tramped through rivenwood, enraptured by the wonderment of the world— life was so much better now that they had more freedom within the territory. though she still preferred to stay with the group for now, the pale child was beginning to feel less and less attached. there was so much to see and learn, and the child was hungry for knowledge.

she sighed dramatically as they all halted, but did not take her eyes from the bug she was chasing. a blue-green dragonfly, deftly moving through the air and changing directions faster than the child could see the flip. she bounded after it, jumping to try to catch it with her teeth, flipping and tumbling on her own after it.

boo-boos were the magical word, however, and witch allowed the dragonfly its freedom as she set her sights upon the stranger. she walked with purpose towards her, far more sure on her feet than druid, and drew perhaps a little closer than was polite to laurel. fascinated by the scabs, her intelligent eyes locked there, she asked unabashedly, what you did?

Sequoia felt the underlying hint that maybe Laurel wasn't as fine as she said she was, but the girl wasn't going to push it. She may have been a counselor, but she had plenty of other things on her mind right now: mostly Druid and Witch. Both of whom immediately questioned the source of Laurel's wounds.

She sure does, Sequoia said to Druid first, then shrugged at the other two questions. If Laurel wants us to know how she got them, she'll tell us, she assured her daughters.

It's good to have you back, she said to Laurel then, and she meant it. Another wolf in Rivenwood meant one more helping hand when it came to the kiddos.

The influx of pups was a bit much for Laurel, as they all came around and asked their questions of her. She didn't really want to share; without the pups there, she might have -- might have shared a whole bunch more -- but not now. She was grateful that Sequoia deflected the children's questions about her wounds.

Thanks, she said at Sequoia's words, a grateful smile on her face. Perhaps she had a friend here in Rivenwood after all. How have you been holding up here?

Sequoia told her girls that Laurel would share if she wanted, which she apparently did not, as no explanation was forthcoming. When the two adults engaged in conversation, Druid blinked and then lost interest, turning her attention to her sister.

Le’s get a drink, the gray puppy suggested in a murmur, pressing up against Witch as together they sidled closer to the water to peep at their own faces before breaking the surface with their tiny pink tongues.

You guys can skip me for the rest of the thread (and power play as needed!).

The two dispersed, and Sequoia was glad they seemed to understand that adults sometimes needed to talk about things without the ears of children. If she had any doubts about her parenting abilities, they were small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. All four of them seemed to be coming along just fine.

Sequoia returned her attention to Laurel, training her ear to the woman's question. Honestly, great. I really wasn't expecting to have such a full house, but it makes me glad I didn't have more than two of my own. Skaigona and Worripa are Praimfaya's two. I can't really get a read on how they're doing, but I think they're taking it okay.

Laurel was glad when the pups left. She didn't dislike children, although she had always loved her own more than anyone else's; it was just that she was in no mood for all the fuss right now. Sequoia then went on to say that she was doing well and that Praimfaya's two were doing well, too. Glad they're doing well, she said, her words genuine though a little lackluster. Sequoia was practically her only friend in the pack, anyway.

Laurel asked, What happened to Praimfaya? She'd left in Laurel's absence from the pack, it seemed, and had not returned.

Ah, what a question! And one Sequoia (mostly) had an answer to.

Oh jeez. We think she got attacked by a cougar. Mahler and I think she may be dead... or at least badly injured; but we couldn't find her anywhere—the trail went cold. I've been taking care of her kids since.

It wasn't easy work, but none of the kids were terrible, so at least they had that going for them. Worripa was far more reserved than any of the three girls, and Sequoia wondered if his broodiness could be attributed to him being a boy. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he was just more like his mother than his sister happened to be.

Well, a quick look around at the children, but as she was unsure if they were close enough to hear she adjusted, Fudge. Laurel said it with a frown in return to the words about Praimfaya. She sounded like she was dead, at least. Seems like I missed a lot. She sighed lightly and then said, I think I'll take some rest now. It was good to see you again. Laurel offered Sequoia a brief smile before she turned away.

There were lots of things she wanted to talk to her about, but now was not the time. Not with the children present.

Sequoia knew how tired she had been during those first few weeks of motherhood, so she didn't take offense to Laurel excusing herself to get some sleep.

You too. And if you ever want somebody to watch the kids for a little while, let me know. My four charges are getting more independent by the day, so they don't need quite as much supervision as they used to. Sequoia had been ever-thankful for a quick break now and again, especially in the beginning stages. She could only imagine that Laurel would enjoy a break like that, too.

I'll see ya around, she said before rounding the kids up to go elsewhere so Laurel could get some proper sleep.