Noctisardor Bypass raserei

pack meeting! @Wylla @Sequoia @Laurel @Druid (tagging @Witch & @Phaedra for visibility)

two children taken from rivenwood.
duskfire glacier had come and gone.
druid had returned.
and perhaps wylla was pregnant.
mahler stood before his pharmacy and called low and dirgelike for them all.
they must discuss their future. they must discuss the hurt that ursus had provoked.
mahler was incensed, and it showed in the spike of hackles from shoulder to rump.

She had been through this enough times now to know even this early that there was change in her, but Wylla kept it to herself. She watched spates of bad moods overcome her mate since the attack, from self-loathing to passionate rage. The news would bring him some measure of peace, but she knew it would draw scorn from the others. Ordinarily she did not care one whit what they thought, but for Mahler's sake, Wylla wished to avoid conflict.

She spent large amounts of time at the borders, patrolling and watching for the return of Ursus, but today she was lingering near when he summoned them all. She arrived promptly and schooled the urge to press supportively against him. She knew some of how his mind worked now and thought it would make him feel weak in front of his remaining followers, or it would look as if she overstepped.

It was a lot of work, taking outside opinions into account. Wylla seated herself, wincing slightly at the way her scabs pulled and itched, but they were nothing compared to her mate's hurts. Or Laurel's, she supposed, though she cared much less about that.

Abel hadn't shown himself over time. It stung. Laurel felt both guilty that he hadn't been with them and frustrated that he was taken, too. She had told Mahler that they had to get the children back, but her patience was running thin. One of these days, Laurel was going to walk up to Ursus herself and do... Something, at least. She had to do something. Who knew what Merrick was doing to her precious Indra (and Abel, of course).

Laurel arrived at the scene with a limp in her step. She cautiously eyed Wylla, before settling down in front of Mahler and waiting to see who else would show up. Hopefully Sequoia would show up soon, so Laurel would feel a bit more supported if there was going to be any discussion on what to do next.

There was only one option; one thing for the pack to do, in Laurel's opinion.

In those moments as she walked through the wood toward Mahler’s call, she could almost believe the raid had never happened. But as soon as she arrived, reality bludgeoned her over the head. She remembered what Sequoia had told her. She recalled what Heda had asked her. She wondered what the Graf would say. Druid already felt torn.

Witch appeared beside her, like magic. Druid leaned against her sister as the two of them took a seat by their mother. Druid’s attention fixed on Mahler, though her eyes drifted to Laurel too. Why had Ursus come for her and her children? Druid still didn’t understand, though by now, she was convinced she must’ve done something to invite this nightmare into Rivenwood.

Heart hardening in her chest, Druid turned at Witch’s touch. It softened again as she licked her sister’s cheek, then faced front again, paying close attention to what Mahler had to say.

Showing up to these meetings always felt like showing up to the high school cafeteria with your lunch tray full of bland food served by an equally bland lunch lady. Sequoia wasn't a fan, but she knew she had to answer the call. All the regulars were already seated, including her two daughters, supporting one another in a way that made their mother quite proud. She had never been close with her own siblings, though she had been close with Kiwi. Witch and Druid's relationship reminded her of that, though hopefully it wouldn't end the same way it had for Sequoia.

Sequoia sat beside Laurel, offering her fellow mother a sympathetic glance. The Dritte did feel a heap of survivor's guilt. She had hidden to keep herself safe, and so had Witch. They'd been lucky that nobody had found them, but she knew she'd look a lot like Laurel and Mahler (or worse) if she had been found. As for Wylla, she figured Mahler's mate would find some new way to hate her. Unfortunately, she couldn't exactly ignore a call for an Important Pack Meeting.

second round, no posting order!

"ve need to talk about vhat to do next."
mahler cleared his throat. wylla, laurel, sequoia, witch, and druid. his gaze was touched with a more gentle air when he looked at the girls. heda was safe in duskfire. and worripa — he pulled his eyes away from them before his face tightened with that anger.
"first of all you need to know that laurel varned me this vould happen." honesty first. "i did not consider ursus a threat simply because of our numbers. merrick is — related. this is a blood feud." isolated, despite the severity. he spared laurel a glance as he went on, assuming she would be angry that he had shared so much. but he found it necessary. the others would not know why ursus had come for them.
"that is vhy merrick has taken her children. perhaps he feels some familial possessiveness tovard them. vhatever the reason, i am unvilling to leave them in such a place and in an unknown state."
"ve are currently in no state to fight." a breath. "i vould like to discuss relocation. the bypass is our home. it is defensible. ve know our enemy now. and it is the birthplace of volves in this pack. but if you cannot feel safe here, then who am i to demand that ve stay?"
"this is assuming that everyone vishes to move forvard vonce ve have recovered." he looked at each of them in turn. "i do not think that the duskfire volves mean to stay in the glacier. ve vould be alone vith ursus in the valley." he did not mean to sound so very dire, he only wanted each of them to have the information that he did. they must proceed as one. "please share your thoughts," mahler muttered, settling down with a low grunt of pain. "druid and vitch, you as vell."

The more Wylla heard, the more she hardened against Laurel. For the other woman to know that Ursus would come for her, she must have done something to earn their ire. Here she skulked in Rivenwood, bringing danger to all of them with whatever she had done to Ursus.

And she expected help getting her children back?

Mahler wanted their opinions. The last time Wylla shared her opinions at a pack gathering it had been the end of her tenure there. But she was not a leader here, and she reminded herself with a sidelong glance at Sequoia, unharmed thanks to her cowardice, how this was not a pack. This was a collection of wolves with their own goals sharing a territory but no comradery.

So she squared her shoulders. Mahler would not like this, but she didn't care what he or anyone else thought. She had fought to defend their home. She had bled for Rivenwood. She had as much a right to her voice here as anyone. More, she felt, than those who hid instead of fighting.

There is no point leaving as long as Laurel is with us, she said. Her yellow eye settled on Laurel. There was nothing warm about it whatsoever. But this was the truth, she felt, no matter how all the others danced around it. They came here for her. They came for a reason. As long as she is here, they will come again no matter where we go.

Mahler said quite a lot, though Druid was stuck on the very first thing that came out of his mouth: “First of all, you need to know that Laurel varned me this vould happen.” Both the Zuerste and the Graf had known this would happen, but hadn’t warned the rest of Rivenwood?

Her ears started ringing and she missed quite a bit of his speech, her eyes staring ahead without focus. Druid snapped out of it suddenly at the word “relocation.” She resented the idea of leaving Rivenwood with every fiber of her being. She felt terribly betrayed by this entire conversation.

No! she wanted to scream. Before Druid could gather her wits to speak, Wylla cut in to insist it was Laurel who was haunted, not Rivenwood. The implication was clear. Druid’s lips parted, surprised to hear an adult voicing her own controversial and therefore secret opinion.

Perhaps it was time to reveal her loyalties by seconding Wylla. Druid glanced at Sequoia, wondering what her mother thought, then found herself locking eyes miserably with Witch. She wondered if the same conversation was replaying in her sister’s head. Yes. She was certain of it.

“I never want to leave Rivenwood.”

“My bones shall rest in this loam forever.”

Sequoia hadn't known that Laurel had known, and she shot her a glance of "what the fuck?" but perhaps she'd had her reasons. The Dritte couldn't help but empathize. She certainly hadn't told anybody about her own murderous former pack mates. She wasn't even sure if any of them were still alive. She did know that if they ever found her, they would most certainly try and kill her, just as Merrick had tried to kill Laurel.

Wylla was the first to speak, and Sequoia had to agree. Wherever Laurel went, Merrick would follow her. Hunt her down until he could take what he thought was his. Sequioa thought a little while longer, and the idea she'd had when talking with Druid previously rang in her head again.

They didn't see me when I was here. I could go, wash myself of Rivenwood's scent. Try and work from the inside. Make sure Indra and Abel are safe. Maybe even bring them back. Or at least warn the rest of you if they plan another attack.

She glanced at Druid and Witch, knowing they would not like this plan. Maybe nobody would, but it was the only thing she could think of that didn't involve throwing Laurel to the literal wolves.

Others arrived. Laurel was glad that Sequoia sat down by her side so she felt supported by her friend. As Mahler spoke, Laurel did not watch him. She watched the other wolves in their small pack, and saw them turn against her one by one. Why, she wondered, did Wylla only stare at her with this hardened gaze and not her own mate? Ah, right, of course - she'd forgotten about the fucking him for a moment. That, of course, changed everything. Even Sequoia shot her a surprised glance.

Laurel elaborated, even though she didn't want to. I warned about this last spring. After that, Merrick moved away because he had more enemies in the lands at the time. He killed my sister. His mother. Laurel swallowed thickly and her gaze hardened to steel as she said this, not allowing herself to fall to emotion. She looked at Sequoia mostly, not wanting to see Wylla's cold, ruthless gaze. How could Mahler fall for someone like that?

Sequoia said that she could infiltrate. Laurel didn't like the thought. She would just sit here and wait, hoping for Sequoia to be successful? Lose her only friend on top of her children? Even Sequoia herself wasn't sure if she would be successful.

Was it worth a shot, or a desperate attempt that would never work? How long would it take Sequoia to get into their good graces enough to see the children, and if she got there, how far gone would they be? Laurel looked at Mahler and said, Do we have no allies? Won't the Duskfire wolves stand by us and fight to get them back? Who knows what he'll do to them if we leave them there for so long! There so young... Sequoia, I really appreciate you wanting to risk your own neck to save them, but what if... What if it's too late? We waited when I first said that Merrick was a threat, and now look at us. Time's run out! We have to gather allies and fight, and soon. Laurel was not so sure she could bear waiting here, at home, while Sequoia risked her own life to try and rescue the children...

there was a conviction in wylla that mahler both loved and loathed. she was correct, after all. he did not know the ways which had twisted merrick. he knew only that laurel had said he would attack and he had. the man had not considered this threat to his world and it had cost all of them.
sequoia spoke next. she offered herself as sacrifice to the wolves of ursus. the graf almost shook his head sharply but controlled himself until she had finished.
the girls were stricken. silent. 
mahler drew a long breath.
"then rivenvood stays."
and laurel with them. he had no designs on turning her away. perhaps that was his pragmatism. perhaps it was his weakness. "i admire your courage, sequoia. but they vill not spare if you are caught. i vould — prefer to lose no one else." his voice was grim. "ve should begin vith duskfire. i do not know how long they intend to remain in the taiga."
he looked at them each in turn. "two go to speak at the glacier. two remain. or ve all go."
he was not yet prepared to travel that distance and he doubted the same for laurel. but go they must if it was made to be so.
and now his attention rested on laurel. "ve do not have the numbers to rush ursus. not yet." he was not certain they would. "dependent on vhat is said at the glacier, i vill go vith you to the valley."
and this time he did not glance to wylla.
this had been mahler's failure. he must make it also his mending.

The sisters gazed at one another in commiseration until Sequoia’s voice rose. Druid tore her eyes away from Witch only to goggle at their mother. No! she wanted to scream again. She could not wrap her head around what her dam was volunteering to do. Why on earth would she leave her own children—and put herself at such hideous risk—to save Laurel’s?

This entire meeting bewildered Druid into speechlessness. She loved Sequoia and Mahler fiercely but they were both saying such horrible things. The Graf redeemed himself slightly by insisting they would all stay in Rivenwood, only to suggest they all go to Duskfire Glacier in the very next breath. Then he said something which suggested they would attempt to gather the numbers to confront Ursus.

Laurel certainly seemed to want to drag the Duskfires into this whole mess, which Druid had already done. But asking them to treat a wounded child or even send a scouting party was very different from requesting their aid in some sort of war. Druid’s heart clenched as she thought of Heda and Lane, hoping they’d already uprooted and left, rendering that whole idea moot.

Druid couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone but her sister, other than a brief glance at Wylla. Eventually, she couldn’t even hold Witch’s gaze. Druid’s eyes fell to the patch of Rivenwood between her two front feet, tears making everything wobble like her shaken worldview. She did her best to blink them away.

Wylla listened as Mahler spoke, but made no motion to volunteer herself for a war effort of any description. There were almost certainly new lives growing within her this very moment. Very few wolves were worth Wylla taking that kind of risk, and Laurel was absolutely not one of them.

But her mouth fell open when he said he would be going to the valley. Absolutely not, she snarled. He would seriously risk his neck and risk never meeting his children for this bitch? Wylla had had quite enough of being lower priority in his plans but this was ten steps too far. You are going nowhere. Her gaze cut sharply to Laurel. If Duskfire agrees to help, you go alone or with whatever friends you have, but whatever you did to provoke them, this whole mess is your fault. You brought it to our home. This is your fight, not Rivenwood's.

In another place and time, she could have felt bad that Laurel's children were taken and for the loss of her sister, and she certainly did blame Sequoia's inaction in part for why they could not prevent the cubs from being snatched. If Sequoia wished to help now and risk her hide, Wylla would not stop her despite the obvious pain and panic both Druid and Witch were exhibiting. Wylla, though, would have no part of it. All evidence pointed to Laurel as the problem. Ursus had come for her by name. If it was a blood feud then it was her problem to deal with.

If they do not agree to help then there is nothing we can do. We could not fight them on our turf and we cannot fight them on theirs. She set her jaw. She remembered keenly the pain of Thade's disappearance. In another time she would have sympathized. But if Laurel would not be ejected from Rivenwood for whatever she had done to bring Ursus down on them, then she best get ready to kiss her children goodbye.

Wylla would not help, and she would not allow Mahler to risk his life and leave her widowed with their new cubs, either. She would incapacitate him herself if she must.

When Mahler said that he would come with her to the valley, Laurel's first urge was to say 'no!'. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps because she knew she wouldn't succeed in getting her children back. Honestly, she was not sure what to expect; either death, in hopes of being able to tell them that she loved them, at least, or captivity, because being at Merrick's whims but alive and able to see her children was better than nothing. Mahler had shut down Sequoia's suggestion. Laurel was somewhat relieved, because she was afraid to lose Sequoia, and afraid to be without her friend here in Rivenwood.

Wylla then finally showed her true, ugly face. Laurel did not realise how much it was like her own as her hackles rose and her tail poofed and rose. Laurel got to her feet, her body language dominant and defensive. She spoke of Mahler as if he was her property. Besides that, she invalidated the worth of the pack, of Rivenwood, by saying it was her own mess, not the pack's. Mahler is my friend, Laurel snapped at Wylla, her eyes blazing with fury, Whether you like it or not. That's his decision, not yours. She spoke of the decision to be Laurel's friend, but in truth, also a little bit about the decision to go with, if he wanted (even though Laurel didn't really see what it would bring them, and didn't want him to; but she'd tell him that, not Wylla). Laurel bit back insults — about how Wylla didn't even pay attention enough to her mate to know that fact, about how not everybody was as bitter and sour as Wylla — but she knew all too well that she needed to get the sympathy of the pack of her side and this wasn't how she was going to do it.

So instead she moved on to what she thought the whole while Wylla spoke. Laurel's voice started out calm but shaking, and ended going louder and louder. We're a pack. We're supposed to stick up for each other. If we don't support each other, if we don't give a flying fuck about what happens to our own and give up our own wolves that easily, if it's completely meaningless, why are we even a pack?! Laurel's voice rose as she reached the end of what she spat at Wylla, her teeth showing, threateningly so. None of this was a surprise to Laurel. She expected her pack to stab her in the back, because packs were unreliable and didn't care. Only family did, she knew that much, and she had none left right now, right here. Her only hope was that Mahler and Sequoia were enough of her friends to understand what she was saying. But she had to try. She said, It could be Druid next, or even you, Wylla! You would stand for that? You'd let every one of us get taken away, picked apart one by one by deranged wolves coming to our lands, because 'they probably had it coming'? A deep, shaky breath, and a bit calmer again, next, as she levelly looked at Wylla. I'd help Mahler rescue you. Because I'm his friend. And because you're my packmate.

As far as Laurel was concerned, Rivenwood either stuck together today... Or there was no more Rivenwood. Iliksis hissed in her head that they would betray her, like they always did, that they'd grab the hilt of the dagger that Wylla had plunged into Laurel's chest and that they would twist it, but Laurel had to believe there was some chance they'd stick together.

Rivenwood was going to be her second chance — her last chance — the place that would heal the past — and she was not ready to give up on it yet. She glanced at Sequoia and Mahler, her eyes fiery but silently demanding their support. As a pack. With or without Wylla.

thanks y'all for your patience!

One by one, they shot down her idea. Well, all except Wylla. Shots were fired left and right after that. Sequoia didn't even try to interject. This was clearly getting a lot more heated than she was prepared for, and nobody was thinking with a clear head. She had to agree with Laurel. A pack was a pack. Their whole reason for living among one another was so that they could help each other out.

I can go to Duskfire. There's no need for two of us to go, and I'm in good shape. I can cover the distance quickly. She somehow imagined that Mahler would disagree with that, but Sequoia intended to be firm about it. That would leave Druid the only fully healthy wolf here, but she would be well protected. At least Wylla didn't seem to have it out for her, but Sequoia wasn't sure how long that would last.

words erupted.
wylla's righteous fury erupted as rightfully as it ever should have been. mahler listened to her cold voice cut laurel from their ranks and place her aside. he began to see the impossibility of the situation, that the fatalistic flaw within himself was that he could not fix everything. he could not protect rivenwood without choosing their pack as a whole over her. he could not bring back laurel's children without exposing himself to the final battle he might ever have. he stared at the wounds upon her as she spoke furiously, exhorting them to work as one. he could not ask duskfire to help; they had already given much after the loss of prey suffered in the taiga.
mahler knew that wylla would not be moved. his amethyst gaze moved to her; he thought with a sudden, lurching start of the children that might yet be growing within his wife's stalwart small body.
laurel's voice, her accusations; they would incense wylla, and mahler moved to flank her with the intention of assuaging any conflict. he could not bear there be more this hour.
agony rushed the graf.
sequoia once more offering herself as emissary; and mahler at last spoke:
"no."
"take druid and vitch. and go far."
his eyes were strained when he set them toward laurel. "rivenvood fought. i vas vounded. you vere vounded. druid — no more."
the yawning realization of what he was setting into motion horrified and sickened mahler. "i do not vant to fight. i am done fighting. ve fought. ve lost. duskfire may not be capable of helping. that leaves us alone, laurel."
he closed his eyes; breath rose in a plume from his nostrils; voice hoarsened. "another conflict is more blood shed from rivenvood."
he was breaking, breaking; panicking; he should stand with laurel now, he should stay to his intentions of descending to the valley and to his final war;
but mahler;
"i am sorry. but i have nothing left."
she called him friend. he did not deserve the title.
it did not matter what next was said; mahler turned and he would not be persuaded back.

Many words were said in the following moments. Druid lost her battle against the tears, her vision blurring completely as they began to trickle down her snout and form a puddle between her feet. Her shoulders began to shake by the time Sequoia volunteered to go to Duskfire Glacier herself. Please… she thought. Please…

Only when Mahler’s soft growl rejoined the cacophony did Druid lift her eyes. No, she whispered vehemently. Only Witch would hear as the Graf declared he was finished fighting. Druid agreed with him, her very soul sagging in defeat, but she was beginning to realize they would never be able to go back to the life before the raid.

Druid didn’t notice when Mahler left, because her world shrunk to two wolves: Sequoia and Witch. No, she repeated her earlier answer, only loudly enough for everyone to hear. Her voice shook. So much was ruined but one thing was certain. I’m not leaving Rivenwood. Her shining eyes found her sister’s, knowing Witch was, as always, of the same heart and mind.

Mahler shot her down, followed quickly by Druid. Did Sequoia have no choice in this? No matter what she offered, everybody seemed to think she was either incapable or it was too dangerous. Sequoia still thought going to Duskfire was their best bet. And if not, she would go to Ursus alone.

We will stay, she assured Druid and Witch when Mahler turned his back on them, Wylla surely hot on his heels. Laurel, I promise we'll get them back. Somehow, we have to. I know you'd do the same for Witch and Druid.

Wylla had nothing to say to Laurel. She refused to justify any of the other woman's goading with anything more than a grimace. She didn't give half a rat's ass what Laurel would or wouldn't do for her because it would never come to that. Wylla would never invite trouble to Rivenwood, nor would she ever be stupid enough to pop out children knowing she had an enemy hunting her. She firmly believed Druid would not invite trouble to their home either.

Neither of them would be taken in this fashion because neither of them did whatever it was Laurel ha done that made her so certain this would happen. Expecting Rivenwood to risk their necks for her fuck up was ludicrous.

To her immense relief, Mahler changed his stance. They had fought. They had lost. And what sort of allies would they be if they dragged Duskfire Glacier into it? Wylla had not cared for Mahler's offer of help at the time, but she remembered their talks of hardship. They were in no position to help with a justifiable cause, much less Laurel's family issues. Whatever it may seem, Wylla didn't like leaving those children to their fate, either, but she cared far more for her family than she did for anyone else. Trying to save them was noble, but Wylla was not noble. She was realistic.

They would die if they tried to retrieve Indra and Abel, and she could not allow Mahler to lose his life for Laurel's stupidity.

With a last long look at Druid and Witch, for whom Wylla felt truly sorry, she tailed after Mahler.

Wylla did not speak back. Laurel realised then that Wylla had never come here in search for a pack. In search for comrades. She'd come here only for Mahler, to rip him away from the wolves that he had invited into this new home, to take away the second start that he had wanted here. His mind had been so lost and hung up on her that he would do anything for her. Once more, Laurel saw the simplicity in how men worked. She couldn't blame Wylla. After all, she got everything that she wanted; why would she care if Mahler betrayed anyone else that he knew or loved in some way.

He did not even comment on most of what she said. He simply turned to leave.

He even told Sequoia to take her children and leave.

He literally told them to betray Laurel, too; to leave her here, alone, where he knew she would die.

You would go so far as to tell my only remaining friend to leave me here, unable to hunt, to die a slow and painful death? she said at Mahler, incredulous. I thought — She shook her head, the anger dissipated from her face. All that was left was the incredulous surprise that once more — You trusted a man again, dearest, and see where it lead you. I told you that I'm the only one who truly cares for you. Mahler, we were surprised! We didn't know they were coming. That's why we lost, not because we fought and lost. With your friends at Duskfire by our side, it will be a completely different fight! But he had already closed his ears and eyes to any possibilities. She could see that.

Laurel grit her teeth as Mahler said he had nothing left. That he was sorry. Laurel knew it was just a lie. If he was truly sorry, he would choose a different path. He would try. He would care about his pack; he would care about his friend. Don't apologise if you're not sorry, she said lowly as he said he had nothing left. At least look me in the eye when you willingly condemn me to die. I deserve that much from someone I thought cared about me. Her gaze said how dare you, with indignity, with anger, but behind all of that was the hurt of the abandoned child from the torn family, of the woman who had come to Rivenwood with nothing left, the woman who would welcome death, who'd trusted him, who'd grown fond of him, who'd thought maybe, just maybe, she could have a friend again.

And now he stood here, telling her only other friend to abandon her to die. Telling a fake apology, while he could not even look her straight in the eye.

Then he turned, without further message. Sequoia and Druid had already stated their intentions to stay, which emboldened Laurel somewhat, glued back a few of the pieces of her fractured heart, but not enough of them to stop her from bolting after him.

Well, she tried, at least, forgetting her shoulder for a moment and falling to the ground as Mahler and Wylla turned away. Laurel scrambled to her feet — too fast, too painful, a shock surging through her body — for she would stand tall as she watched these cowards abandon their pack. She would stand tall as she watched Wylla take away both Mahler and Laurel's second beginnings, here, in Rivenwood. Don't walk away from us, she sharply called after them. At least say it like it is, Mahler! Don't leave me here with your fake apologies! At least own up to the fact you're letting one of your pack mates and friends die without even trying!

He would not be deterred. He just kept walking.

Had he ever truly cared for her at all? Was it just in her head? Was it all a part of his little play to attempt to be a great leader to a pack, to attempt to redeem himself for whatever had happened in his past, an attempt that had miserably failed?

These thoughts swirled through Laurel's head as she watched him leave. She choked back a sob as she could feel the overwhelming emotions threaten to overtake her, but she had to be strong now. She had to think of her children.

She shouted after him as he was almost out of view now, not even showing any signs of listening to her poisonous words — I HATE YOU! YOU ARE THE ONE WHO DESERVES TO DIE! Words she did not mean, perhaps, not in the deepest of her heart, but she shouted them into the remnants of their pack nonetheless.

It was Sequoia who managed to get Laurel back on her feet with her quick affirmation that they would stay. Laurel looked at her and Druid, the indignant grief sliding off her features and replaced by something akin to gratitude. Sequoia owed her nothing, and yet she would stand with her. Thank you, she said quietly.

She had to go to Ursus, that much Laurel knew, but how? How would she get back her children? Maybe she should simply grovel before Merrick and accept whatever humiliation and possible death to get the chance at seeing her children again.

For now, though, Laurel was so tired. She just wanted to rest. She just needed a break. From life. From everything. She was tired of pursuing happiness, because it always blew up in her face. Maybe going to Ursus would not be the worst idea — but maybe not to grovel, but to finish what she had started in that cave.

Druid only turned when Laurel began shouting at Mahler’s and Wylla’s backs, already disappearing into the woods. Her mouth fell slightly ajar as she watched them leave, ears flattening when Laurel began screaming after them. She was flabbergasted when they didn’t turn around, though she didn’t necessarily blame them, at least at this juncture. Laurel’s screams made her fur stand on end. Druid understood some of the anger, though the dramatic threats were a bit much for her.

After making sure Laurel was steady on her feet again, Druid drew in a breath and said to no one in particular, I need to think. She gazed into Witch’s eyes, making sure her sister knew that she didn’t necessarily need to be alone. She then slipped away to some far, quiet corner of Rivenwood.