Broken Antler Fen blackberry

teya untangled herself from reyes, huffing a sleepy sigh from her throat. dawn had not yet come, but the borders called for a patrol.
she kissed his red ears and shook out her fur. first for a drink, and then to the outer edges of the fen. here the light would soon fall in shafts across the sunken land.
but for now the air was grey and still. teya only existed, a small autumn shadow between two willow-trees.

Teya.

Lilitu moved forward, a croon caught in her throat, trying to signal to the woman. She nearly crashed into her, pressing her muzzle into the woman's—musk-scented—neck—

What had she been up to?

No matter. Lilitu was not a judging wolf. She was too thrilled to see her old friend to ask questions, and she remained within the orbit of the other for as long as she was allowed. It had been too long. At least Teya offered familiarity.

God knew everything else had changed, here.

for a long, horrible, lovely moment, teya thought that ibis had suddenly returned.
the dove-cream and ash-grey pelt fell around her, but the scent was much younger, less familiar. or less evocative. "lilitu!" the raven exclaimed in turn, brushing the soft face with her muzzle. "you grow up so much!"
a grin was upon her grey-pumpkin face. "i am happy you are here," and every word sounded with the resolution and intensity that teya had felt upon losing ibis.

Teya, she whispered back. The sound of the woman's voice reminded her all too much of the gaping holes in her life, of a time when Mama and Wraen were still living, and she choked back a sob, though tears stood in her eyes even as she eventually pulled back.

But she chuckled, sniffling a little. I guess I did, Lilitu replied, then paused. I. . .am, too.

It was hardly convincing. Had she never returned, she could have lived in the world of blissful ignorance. Could have dreamed of going home someday, to a complete family. Now that she was here again—there was no going back. No changing what had happened, nor erasing it from her mind.

How are things here? Besides, well. . .

teya nodded softly in understanding of how the pale girl's words had trailed off.
"it is quiet in fen now. we hunt. we prepare for winter. in spring, things are different."
the world and the seasons readied themselves for the great sleep.
"maybe i teach you fishing?" her eyes brightened now; she wanted to steal lilitu's mind away from the grief and the loss, even for a short while.

Please, she said fervently, and hung onto the possibility of. . .forgetting.

She began to wander toward one of their old familiar watering holes, nodding at Teya to follow. Things had changed. She was no longer the young, impressionable wolf she'd been.

And—well. They were missing many faces.

She glanced back at Teya. I spent a lot of time in the mountains, she told the woman, smiling faintly. I hunted goats and hares—definitely not fish. There was much for her still to learn.

teya did so.
lilitu reminded her more and more of ibis. "i like mountains, but not as much as fen."
as she had done the first time with reyes, teya stooped over otter-tracks. "look," she said gently. "they collect fish. we take them from trap."
her eyes shone, and she winked before turning and moving deeper into the thickening sedges along the edge.

She gazed upon the prints before following Teya, very willing, eager to re-learn the ways of hunting in this fen. So much she had traveled that she didn't think she'd ever learned a particular way to grasp prey; every region had their own quirks and tactics.

Maybe she'd stay put, become a master. Maybe.

How's everyone else? she said, though quietly, hoping not to disturb any wildlife (below water or above it). How are. . .you, Teya?

She wondered if the woman had borne children, too. If they'd be raised alongside Lilitu's siblings.

teya almost blurted that she had loved ibis. "i good. i help to see babies through to growing. i fish. i am happy here, lilitu." and the raven hoped it would be the same for the girl.
"eljay and maia are well. i tell them to take a vacation. i do not leave often. i enjoy brecheliant."
the otters were ahead. she dropped low and gestured toward their long lithe bodies churning a school of fish toward the bank.