Twisted Slough There’s nothing left for you to wish on

this made sense ic ;.; sorry brother

I may peace Fenn out of the wilds for a bit, but I'm not sure yet!

She didn't make her decision completely until the next day. When she split off to hunt, there was a swamp, and the river she found mixed with the overwhelming scent of the spongy earth made this the perfect place. Instead of returning to @Figment like she should, Fennec crossed the river and kept going, turning north towards the coast again. He knew she hated it there - hopefully he wouldn't follow.

She couldn't drag him along anymore. He should go join the pack he wanted. Fig deserved better than this and she deserved the time she needed. She just wished she knew how much time that was going to be.

Sorry, she whispered, her ears turning as she did towards the direction she'd come from. No one was following that she could hear. She wanted to go with him, and wanted to visit the plateau where they'd grown up. But doing so right now meant that after, she'd have to follow him to whatever pack he chose, otherwise she knew he would choose her over them. She was removing that choice now, sooner than later. Hopefully he wouldn't hate her for it.

She hated herself for it, a little bit. But she pointed her nose north and began to make her way, carefully, through the tarns and towards the sea.

He was happy to be back home, at least for a day or so. Then Caracal’s feet began itching again. He decided to head out on a day trip, trotting jauntily north in search of medicinal plants he might gather. At least, that was what he told himself, though Caracal quickly became distracted by other things, like swimming in bog water, then chasing grouses and, finally, staring into the least inviting patch of land he’d ever come across.

It stank here too, though that hardly deterred the boyish traveler currently reeking of a swamp himself. Keen to explore such a disgusting and dreary place, he ventured into the slough. It was as gross as it first appeared, and Caracal gave a gleeful whoop as he stumbled across some vines—literally tripping where they ensnared his twiggy ankles.

It took a few minutes to free himself, at which point he decided he was over this place. Caracal didn’t particularly feel like backtracking through the slough, so he kept going north in a bid to escape its gnarly clutches. Once he made his way out, he would figure out the best way to go around it and head back to the summit.

As the black willows and cotton gums finally thinned and the smell of salt threaded into his nose, Caracal really hustled. There was an open plain sprawling ahead and, in the middle distance, a familiar sandy figure.

Fennec didn't notice her younger brother behind her, but she did pause as she tried to consider where she might go next. Fig would definitely come looking for her, so she needed to get as far as she could before that happened. She would hit the coast and then... she wasn't sure. She could go north and she'd run into packs. Or she could go south and just vanish entirely. She had no idea what lay in that direction.

So let's find out. If there was nothing, her prospects weren't great. She'd never been all that great at hunting on her own but at least, on the shore, there were things she could scavenge or dig up. She missed her crows but she hadn't seen them in months. They were probably still back in the Bramblepoint.

It should have been a harder choice, but something about staying here felt wrong. The entire place was poisoned and she just needed some air, for a while. She couldn't breathe here.

Fennec, hey! he shouted without hesitation. Although she was his older sister, he primarily thought of her as Killer’s mom. He hastened toward her even as he added, What brings you out here?

He rolled to a stop with a breathy huff, smiling at her even though she couldn’t see, with a slightly quizzical knit to his youthful brow. Seriously, what was she doing here, all by herself? Caracal tried to remember what he knew about Fennec’s latest goings-on but if Killdeer or even Towhee had told him, well… he couldn’t remember.

Of all of the wolves she could run into, Caracal was possibly one of the worst. She knew he'd never, in a million years, keep her being here a secret. Before she knew it her whole family would know exactly which direction she'd gone. Her plan was ruined before it even got off the ground.

She'd been about to start off again but froze and tensed. None of your business. Nothing about how he'd approached her warranted the ice, but all she could see were her dreams of vanishing turning to ashes. Just leave me alone. She'd have to start over. If the coast wasn't an option, she'd just have to find another one.

She snapped at him, causing Caracal to freeze, eyes widening like a deer in headlights. Fennec told him to leave her alone, her tone so sharp that he was helpless to do anything but obey. His tail immediately went limp and he backed up a few steps.

But his inner caretaker wouldn’t just let him leave without trying to get an explanation. Is everything okay? he asked, his shoulders hunching a little. Caracal was prepared to be told off again, though he stubbornly (and perhaps stupidly) hoped Fennec would consider telling him what was the matter.

He didn't leave. Everything's perfect. She responded in a way that plainly indicated sarcasm. Caracal was out of the loop but at this point, she'd spoken to so many wolves and none of them had made a single damn difference. What was he going to do?

You want to do me a favor? Then let me fucking disappear. Don't tell anyone I was here. She knew that was pretty impossible but it was the only thing of value that she figured he had to offer her. The rest of it was meaningless. No one wanted to actually help her. They just wanted her to be normal again.

“Everything’s perfect,” she said in a tone that told him everything was far from perfect. Before Caracal could react beyond a parting of his lips, she told him to let her disappear. “Don’t tell anyone I was here.”

If he hadn’t just been by both Mereo and Sapphique, he would’ve worried that something had happened to Killdeer or another of the Redhawks. But they were all fine as of the other day, so… what’d happened to Fennec? Where was Bronco? He was afraid to ask.

Sucking his lower lip into his mouth and releasing it again, Caracal replied, Okay. But he fidgeted. He had so many questions. He was concerned about her. And what about her son? When she said “disappear,” did that mean no one would ever see her again?

He didn’t realize he was doing it but he reached toward her, only to curl his paw into a fist and drew it back again. Caracal didn’t know what to do or say in this blindsiding situation, so he would default to respect Fennec’s wishes, he supposed.

But not without one last, Is there anything—anything else I can do to help?

He was just like Fig. He just expected her to have the answers and to know what she needed, to just be able to say it. She didn't work that way. Fennec had never been the type to start cold and list out every little thing that was bothering her. It had to be drawn out by other means.

I doubt it. She didn't know Caracal much outside of the fact that he was Killer's friend. There was no reason to think he'd have any kind of valuable wisdom to offer her for this shitty situation.

He'd promised to keep her secret though, and that was something. It was actually unexpected, with how it felt everyone was against pretty much everything she did nowadays. Just... tell Killer I love him, okay? And that I'll be back, when I figure it out. This came out quieter than the first part. It might mean that, out of all of them, Caracal let Killer pressure him into revealing where she'd last been seen. But she didn't think he would come after her and, if he did, she couldn't mind that. Even if others inevitably found her too.

His shoulders sank a bit when she told him she doubted it. He nodded in acceptance, or was it defeat? Caracal’s ears wilted a little, his gaze tracking down to his own toes, though he perked right back up and stared at Fennec when she said something else.

He felt cold dread threading through his blood at the request. Why couldn’t she do that for herself? Caracal drew in a deep breath, letting it out when his older sister at least indicated that she would return. His inner optimist decided to focus on that bit.

Okay. Okay, I can do that, Caracal said. He loves you too, he added without thinking. But it was just facts. He fidgeted. If you change your mind and need anything, I’m living with a pack at Bimbos Summit, it’s a straight shot south of here. You can always call for me.

She couldn't read his body language but she could hear the acceptance in his voice. She barely paid attention to what he said, though, because she was caught again thinking about where she should go next. Maybe west here, instead.. She could loop south later, avoid any packs, and hit a river or two. Easy.

Right. She wouldn't call for him, she knew that for sure. It wasn't personal but there weren't a lot of wolves that Fennec opened up to. In fact, that number might be four now... her parents, Fig, and Penn. Even Killer had conditions.

Without a thank you, or even a goodbye, Fennec started to leave and move westward. She listened as she did, mostly to make sure he wasn't following, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't. There was no reason for him to care, really, about what happened to her after this. She needed to sort this out herself - that had been made abundantly clear to her, these past few days.