Qeya River fear the others for eternity

time was a sluggish liquid that flowed at its own pace; though she tried to paw at its edges and urge it along by filling her time with various chores, her efforts were in vain. 

she was tired now. she would feel better once they left this place, once she understood what her day to day life would look like. until then, she spent one lazy afternoon lying in the dirt and contemplating all the uncertainties of her future.

Go ahead, bring that to the den. Anselm urged @Gideon, watching as the boy scampered ahead with a pika between his teeth. The pair had managed to flush it earlier, and Gideon bore the kill proudly back to the rendezvous. 

His steps slowed as he saw the pool of shadow lying in slanting rays of golden ribbons. There was something so familiar about Ilse that Anselm had not yet let his guard down around her. He had the vague recollection she’d tended his wounds — but ever since he’d reunited with Gideon, Anselm had no time for anyone else. 

He watched the boy go, then his gaze slid solemnly to the woman who he owed part of his life to. Vhat is your real name, ‘Ash’?

she was lost in the sauce until the pup bounded past her. gideon, she assumed, but only because that was the only child’s name she knew. thank you, sun eater.

the wounded man soon followed behind.

her heart leapt to her throat at his accusation. it struck her pride to know that she was not as smart as she believed she was, and the fur along her spine rippled at this assault to her ego. in this moment she realized that it was beyond nearsighted to keep herself enmeshed in sun eater’s plot. 

what's it to you?

bile. her teeth bit back in a soundless sneer, eyes upon the boy’s retreating form as she weighed her options. it was not a question, truly, it was an assertion that demanded an answer. she could not let this get back to sun eater; in retrospect, she should have shared her other name when he shared his.

she was indignant that this man who in part owed her his life would pull the veil from her facade. at least he did it to her face and not behind her back. she snorted before responding in german: my name is ilse.

she caught the barest hint of an accent in his question. if he did not speak her father's tongue, then only an educated guess could be made at her response. if he did, it would at least confirm this was someone that she used to know.

Anselm followed her gaze, where Gideon’s dual tails bobbed and swayed. Such a fierce emotion enveloped his heart then; a rare tenderness that Anselm sensed was quickly swallowed by thorns. 

He would do anything to keep that emotion alive. 

Back to the woman; he sensed a change in her, like he’d doused her in icewater. Truthfully, Anselm was not the cleverest — but he remembered she’d given Sun Eater a name in a language that had all but died in Anselm’s lips. 

His ears flicked forward in surprise — first, to hear his natal tongue so cleanly uttered — and secondly, by the name that left her lips. 

His jaw parted in quiet shock. Could it be? No — he told himself, this world was very large and anyone could name their daughter Ilse. He tried to remember — had the Ilse of his childhood been so dark? Even now he could barely assemble the scattered memories into something that had visual shape. Breathless, he returned in their tongue the burning question: And your mother’s name?

For it could not be. Yet still, Anselm held onto a shrivel of hope.

Just doing a short lil cameo so I remember this happened in the future. <3

Gideon looked to his father when the gruff man instructed him to return to the den, his lips lifting proudly around the carcass held aloft in his jaws. Since reuniting with Anselm here, his father had dogged his steps, and truthfully, Gideon welcomed it. A part of him had been a little afraid of the tracker in Rivenwood because of his dour moods, but in the absence of Heda and Ezra, he found he had a great deal of attachment to his sire.

His tails wagged behind him as he bounded ahead, passing by a warm charcoal-furred woman on the way. There was no familiarity there, though he faltered in his step when he heard Anselm address her. Curiosity drew his eyes back around to the pair, but there seemed to be no threat there and he sensed he would be chastised if he lingered too long.

He was already out of earshot and moving along at a swift trot when they began to converse in his unknown grandfather's tongue.

slack-jawed, he looked at her like she was retarded. or maybe like the hole in his skull let all of his smart cells fall out. 

then he spoke.

the frosty distance in which she’d held all others dematerialized with this simple exchange of words. german. how sweet it was to have a piece of home with her now, although in some way, it felt like a threat to her personhood. 

her mother, he asks. if her parents could see her now, she thought they’d be so disappointed in the fucking idiot they had raised.

his question confirmed in her heart what she thought might be true: there was something between them. even if it had only been shared territory, perhaps she could sway at least one soul to her favor.

she pulled herself from the dirt to reveal the entirety of herself.

ilse was taller now than wylla, and yet still on the small side for an average adult female. the jagged whitecap on her back was a mystery, though the deep slate undercoat of her girlhood had warmed just slightly thanks to the contributions of her father.

the most telling feature of her heritage was where the echoes of her mother’s face set upon her own.

her name is wylla.

Ilse rose, the blades of grass underfoot bobbing one by one back into rightful orientation. Anselm’s breath was held, his golden gaze searching hers for the name he begged would leave her lips. 

Wylla. Oh, hearing that name again brought a torrent of old emotions and memories flooding through his heart. The goldcoin of his eyes misted over, his breath at last inhaled in a shaky rattle. 

He flung his arms over her in a rough embrace, disbelief overwhelmed into something else. Ilse — I thought I lost you, my sister. He stepped back, considering calling Gideon over to meet his aunt— but then a darker worry pressed the palm of his heart. If she was here, where was Mahler and Wylla? Did they live? It’s me. Anselm. Vhat are you doing here? Vhere are Vylla and Mahler?

as his arms draped across her she was humbled by the weight of him. to her surprise she feels fear clench her heart as unwilling memories spring to the surface. but she was not being crushed under sun eater’s paws — the words he expelled washed away all worries and brought delight to ilse’s face for the first time since she had bid her farewells.

i thought i lost you, my sister

she remembered precious little of those early childhood days and was blind to any feelings of abandonment that anselm might have shouldered as a result of their hasty departure. she did recall that mahler had stayed behind — it had brought ilse the greatest sorrow in her short life.

it’s me. anselm.

raised as an only child but having heard stories of her older siblings, ilse had come to idolize the anselm she had built in her mind. he was her first imaginary friend. she had heard of his nose and his spirit — to realize he had been reduced to his injuries brought her now the second greatest sorrow in her short life.

anselm, it is okay now. she swept a paw over his forehead, careful to avoid his healing wounds. our parents are doing well. they took me elsewhere when i was young, mama wanted to get away from here. the details were fuzzy, and she hadn’t really understood why. now that she knew what these fucking people were like, of course wylla had wanted to go somewhere more peaceful. 

ilse’s childhood had been nothing short of idyllic. she knew that evils existed in this world but she had never been exposed to them. if she were made of slightly duller stuff, she might have been even more naive than she had already proven herself to be. i left only because i know they will be there when i come home. but i wanted to know what it was like, somewhere else. she had thought that maybe she would meet some boys, but all the men she had encountered had been violent, lame, or both.

how did you get involved in all of this?

it’d be a ten million page long dialogue if I typed up all that happened so feel free to assume he told her every hint <3

 

It’d been so long since he’d felt a softness in someone else’s touch, that when Ilse swept her paw across his brow it nearly undid him. 

Looking to Gideon, Anselm found himself stabilizing. The boy. The boy was his everything now. 

He told her everything. Well — not everything. He left out his true feelings for Etienne, referring to him often as his friend and huntbrother — but on all other reaccounting of his life leading up to this moment, he delivered with a German’s sense of factuality. 

He’d ruined things with Heda. He knew this. He’d burned his bridge with Etienne, and he knew that too. He’d failed in fending off Amadeo — and it was only the caribou hunter’s rudimentary caretaking, and finally Ilse’s much more advanced understanding of healing, that Anselm still walked among the living. 

He touched his forehead gingerly. I miss them. He admitted after a lengthy pause where both were left to digest everything he’d laid plainly upon the table. Vhen you return to them?

They talked so long Anselm scarcely noticed the time -- up until the shadows grew longer and his head began its soft aching. He collected Gideon and told Ilse his plan to put the boy to bed; all the while marveling his extraordinary fate to find his sibling here in the wilds.