Noctisardor Bypass He'd never upset you, never forget you

How long had Etienne been gone. Honestly the sea born wasn't even certain. It had been a nice reprieve, and as he got closer to Rivenwood his belly felt tight.

Could he just cross over? It seemed so intrusive. Anselm had made it clear that Etienne was only here to serve a purpose. Just as everyone else had. And it had seemed that the mountain man didn't even really want Etienne to help him in that regard.

He was willing to bet he hadn't even been missed. So with a soft step he crossed the border line. Headed directly to the place he had begun to dig furrows or more so have help to dig. He didn't greet anyone didnt even let them know he returned. They'd figure it out.

Etienne’s absence had been keenly felt - but this time, rather than track him Anselm remained in Rivenwood. He’d known instinctively that this time, Etienne’s departure had been because of him. 

When he first scented Etienne’s returning tracks by the border he’d been tempted to ignore them. To pretend nothing happened at all. But something — maybe the tactful, graceful way Druid had handled him a week before — inspired Anselm to be better. To do better. 

Thinking it and doing it were two very different things, and all of Anselm’s noble resolve melted away as he saw Etienne digging alone in the place they’d met last. All the sudden, all those buried emotions and hurt overcame him and he could not help the accusatory question blurting from his mouth. Vhere have you been?

Etienne had not noticed scent markers near. Had wrongly assumed that anyone and everyone would just not care if he came or he went.

The sound of approaching pawsteps let him know. Someone was coming. Then the scent of crushed pine, and open air and the musky scent that was truly Anselm hit him like a truck. His knees almost buckled.

But then the words found his ears and something tight in his chest grew hard and snapped. A gasp left him and he turned. Golden eyes ablaze with the injustices of giving and giving and getting nothing back.

=Ou ti gason dyab. Ou enjis, mechan san lanmou

He took a shuddering breath. W'y does it matter. I am 'ere for a job, all of you 'ave made dat very clear. I am 'ere to keep all of you alive and 'ealthy. I am 'ere to raise your babies and keep your lover alive. Dat is w'y I am 'ere. So w'y does it matter w'ere I am and wut i be doin' no one cares!

i am so sorry.

cameo bc ig this is my new fave thing to do, tag if u want her to be seen!

i am 'ere to raise your babies and keep your lover alive
heda's heart almost stopped, and because she could no longer hold onto her mouthful of collected moss, she took the greatest pains to set it down as quietly as she could, inching up behind the ancient bole of a nearby oak.
dat is w'y I am 'ere
there wasn't a single coherent thought in heda's head.
so w'y does it matter w'ere I am and wut i be doin' no one cares!
the den mother pressed a crumpled paw to her mouth and closed her eyes, unable to move or do anything more than desperately listen.

Anselm straightened as Etienne noticed him. First came a string of words in that pleasingly lilting language — he could not say for sure, but it didn’t seem like a pleasant epithet. 

Etienne’s expression was ablaze — hard, even. It set Anselm on edge, forcing him to take single step back in surprise as a barrage of words outpoured scorchingly from Etienne’s mouth. 

Vhat? Anselm could not even begin to piece together what had been said. But one thing stood out — something that caused a burn in Anselm’s stomach. Lover. 

So he knew. Anselm felt his stomach drop further.  His sole focus rested on Wtienne now, unaware that the  proclaimed ‘lover’ peeped from a tree not a few yards away. 

Is that vhat you believe?

First came an absolute beautiful feeling of relief. Then, then like acid guilt burned its way hot and heavy up his chest. It singed the furrow of his brow and made his shoulders tight and uncomfortable. He wanted to sink to his knees. He wanted to cry and scream and beg. He wanted to run.

But he did none of those things. Instead he took a shuddering breath and another. Small little whimpering gasps as he fought to control himself. He called upon the sea, the strength of his granmes. He remembered granme roz telling him he had to let others make their own mistakes and he too make his. How she had loved him despite everyone always needing something from him. She had loved him simply because he existed.

Etienne shifted. Drew himself up to his unimpressive middleman height. Pulled his paws from the dirt. Shook them off and met the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen with his own golden ones. A flush of heat deep seeded and hard leapt to his stomach and he swallowed. He was not ashamed of himself or how he thought. Yes he felt that way.

I would not say it, if I did not believe it. W'en was de last time anyone 'as asked me if I was okay? W'en 'as anyone taken care of me. And dat be fine. I like to be de one caring.

He stepped forward his tail lashing behind him. Shoulders tight and set rigid. The ocean in all her madness peeking out of his gaze.

I 'ave been attacked and forced to care for otters. I 'ave been all alone while you and 'eda do wutever it is dat you do. I 'ave been pus'ed to de side for Fiona to take care of Druid and yet i am looked down on for leavin' everyone juat assumes dat I be fine. Dat I will take it and take it. I give and i give and wut do i get back for my troubles. 'Eartbreak, abuse, anger and malice. I get told dat i don't know wut i be doin'. I take it all. And I am tired Anselm. I am tired.

Etienne felt tears gathering in his eyes but he continued. You do not know wut it is like to be de one dat can feel all de troubles. De 'eaviness in de air like de furs of de prey. De loud noises and de constant neediness. De come to ask me wut is best plant to cure dis. Wut will 'elp my c'ild. And den w'en i fix dem it is tank you and gone. I am needed, but I am not wanted. I 'ave always been needed. De only wolves dat ever loved me just for me is my granme Roz, an' Suzu. Not for wut I can offer and do for everyone.

Many times Anselm had seen the storm brewing in Etienne’s gaze. Yet, never once had he weathered it.

The storm became a downpour, battering down upon the hard and impermeable rock that was Anselm’s conscience. He withstood it, despite the way something inside of him shriveled when he saw how dismissive Etienne was; how he pulled himself to his full height and dusted the dirt from him as if it were Anselm he was ridding himself of.

Hurt poured out from Etienne, a river finding its teeth along Anselm’s banks. He shuddered, each word a gale against his skin. He believed none of what Etienne said was really true, but it did not matter what was true — it mattered what Etienne thought, and he had left nothing to the imagination.

A healthier person would acknowledge the hurt and apologize for their part in it. But Anselm felt too attacked to own up to his wrongdoing. Throughout this, his fur bladed.

You think you are the only vonne feeling unloved? He sucked between clenched teeth, his temper rising. No vonne asks if I’m okay either. That’s what being an adult is, Etienne. You grow up and people stop caring about you.

His pride still stung from Etienne’s accusation concerning Heda. It was not as if they’d done anything since that first act — but even that small justification scarcely addressed the burning guilt he felt looking into the sunfire eyes of the man he knew meant more to him than he would ever admit out loud.

Unable to help himself, and feeling he must shoot at Etienne before the man cut him down first, Anselm’s voice roseIf you are so unhappy, vhy do you stay?! You make yourself the victim vhen you could just — leave!

The guilt was crushing and so was the regret. But he didn't know what to do. He couldn't take it back. So he had to weather the high tide.

Etienne was not ridding himself of anyone, but himself. His own feelings and injustices. The feeling of inadequacy and pain. The grief and the heartbreak. And it was so unfair. He shouldn't have done it. And he knew Anselm would strike back and he'd strike true.

Etienne blinked and growled. A foreign sound from the gentle man.

Because you don't like it. You 'ate it w'en I ask. You get angry. So I don't ask. Instead i wait for you to tell me.

Etienne reeled further. If I didn't care about you I wouldn't be 'ere. Dat is not wut an adult is!


Etienne’s tail lashed and he stomped. I stay because I care! Because you asked me not to leave and i care about you enuff to keep my promise!! I stay because despite 'ow I feel i wouldn't leave anyone to fend for deyselves!

Anselm’s ears flipped forward in surprise as a growl spilled from Etienne’s chest. It was such an unusual noise that for a moment, he was speechless.

Several seconds passed before he gathered his composure. He refused to be made the monster here. He was just trying to survive, same as Etienne — he didn’t have the time or the mental energy to do little welfare checks on everyone. The more he thought of it, the more embittered he became — even if there was a side to Etienne’s story that was patently true.

You think because I don’t act like you, I don’t care? Anselm snorted, feeling his own ugly emotion take the best of him. His nostrils flared and his eyes burned, threatened with something that was definitely not tears. Men didn’t cry — he steeled himself, bringing a flare of anger to the forefront to ward off his weaker feelings.

Etienne may have shown Anselm what he needed to feel loved, but in that moment Anselm refused to hear it. That’s stupid. You think I’m here because I vant to be?! He spat, realizing he was now on the precipice of saying something so hideous that once spoken, could never be taken back.

He suddenly clapped his jaws shut, fearful. If he said too much, he would be admitting to something he was not yet ready to face — but if he said too little, he stood to lose it all.

I’m not doing this. Anselm snarled, turning his back and storming off — incidentally in the very direction Heda was.

There was surprise on the mountain mans face. And Etienne supposed it was surprising. He did not growl, he did not fight or fuss or argue. He tried to be good and kind and worry about others. But everyone had a breaking point. And Etienne had found his.

Etienne didn't want numerous welfare checks. One would have sufficed. Though on amy other day when he was clear of mind. He would have seen perhaps the forest despite the trees. How Anselm had watched over him, had come back for him. And he had just discredited that and threw it in Anselm's face. But he was to high on the tide to acknowledge it.

Eti wanted to ask if it was even possible for Anselm to care about anyone else. He wanted to spit out the venom that spewed like bile in his minds eye. He wanted to rip and tear and maim the man verbally until his heart was laid bare. Because Etienne was tired of wondering and waiting. And his heart was breaking. It was only fair. But he was not built that way.


Etienne watched him go. Golden eyes awash with unshed tears. He sniffled once twice, then steeled his spine. And walked away stiff legged and heart sore. His heart rhythm feeling funny.

heda cringed as anselm's hard shoulders and twisted face burst through the foliage faster than she could disappear. her golden eyes flew wide, imploring him to stay quiet, to say nothing until etienne was gone. no matter what anselm might feel about seeing her here now, it would be so much worse if etienne knew she was present too.
only when she heard the other wounded man's footsteps retreating did she swing her ears toward anselm, and regarded him with a pained, almost knowing expression. "take him and leave. no one would blame you, truly. he's suffering here, and you — you — you don't want to be here either. he won't go if you don't, so leave, anselm, for his sake if you can't do it for you."
she hated to know what she had felt before: that she and ezra and gideon existed between anselm and etienne, occupying a place they didn't have to keep.

It took all of Anselm's strength to remain composed as he saw a pair of wide golden eyes greet him. He nearly wheeled back to glance at Etienne, but suddenly his spine was rigid as he thought of every accusation Etienne lobbed his way.

For once, Anselm kept his mouth shut -- but even then, the silence did nothing to hide the budding fury that rose to his gaze. Here was Heda, the harlot that started it all. The one to put a wedge between them and--

Oh, he knew this wasn't true. He steeled his shaking limbs, listening in disbelief as Heda suggested the unthinkable. He half-scoffed, half-sobbed -- the choking sound barely registering as a whimper. How could she suggest he leave, after everything? Did she know him -- did she not experience the same abandonment?

And all of these wise words supplied by an expression of knowing that Anselm hated seeing alight her pearly face. His heartbeat raged against his chest, which now felt so tight he thought for a second his ribs would splinter through flesh.

For the tenderest moment, it almost looked as if Anselm had let his walls crumble down. In a second's breadth it looked that he might sob and reach for her to be held -- only for that vision to extinguish violently against a sudden expression of anger.

I vould blame me. He countered, refusing to acknowledge the hidden admission that neither party dared speak aloud. He straightened his ruff, inhaled the last of his shaky breaths, steadied his galloping heart, quelled his rising anger, and in long sweeping strides made to move past Heda without another word.