Overture Downs I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour

@Bracken

The morning air was crisp, tinged with the lingering chill of dawn. Morwenna's paws padded softly along the earth, a light mist curling up around her legs as she ventured further from the familiar reaches of Swiftcurrent Creek. She moved with an unhurried grace, her head low as she inhaled the scents carried by the breeze — mossy trees, damp soil, the occasional hint of a creature's trail. It was quiet out here, almost undisturbed.

A soft, lilting tune slipped from her throat as she walked, a melody once murmured to her by a voice long faded, sung in the old, warm words of her ancestors. The Valyrian song spilled gently into the silence, threading through the spaces between trees, her voice carrying a sorrowful tenderness as if to keep her lost ones close.

Morwenna slowed her pace, head tilting to listen as the tune echoed faintly around her. This quiet reprieve soothed something raw within, like the touch of a hand on an old scar. She let herself sink into it, this gentle escape from her own tormented memories. Here, beyond the boundaries and prying eyes, she could be simply a mother in mourning, singing softly into the morning mist.

she had been enjoying the cool weather too much. she had ran without a care in the world as if she had been a child again. it had been wonderful while it had lasted.

but she had slid along a patch of muck from the recent cool and light snowfall.

bracken now suddenly looked more wild than she had in weeks. her fur spiked by the muck in an unorganized manner, her figure cutting leaner and leaner so that she was a gaunt giant.

now she hobbled along after her tumble. it would likely be fine if rested, but that was the issue, wasn't it? life as a loner did not lend itself to a way of resting. especially when the soft echoes of someone's song caused her to stir to alert attention. she stilled as much as she could.

yet if she had already been spotted, then surely there was no hiding herself now. what a horrible presentation of herself.

mud-messed and limping.

Morwenna approached slowly, her voice low, carrying the gentle, lilting cadence of her earlier song. She took in the sight of the stranger—matted with mud, wounded, yet somehow regal in her disarray, a strange beauty hidden beneath the dirt and weariness. She stopped a few lengths away, her own gaze softened with both curiosity and concern.

Are you alright? Morwenna asked, her words laced with a quiet warmth. Her head tilted, considering the gaunt she-wolf. That fall looked rather… unforgiving. There was no judgment in her tone, only a hint of sympathy and a spark of gentle humor, trying to ease the tension in the air.

If you need a place to catch your breath, Morwenna continued, stepping a bit closer, I can keep watch while you rest, just for a little while. No need to worry—I'm alone. She hoped her tone would reassure the wary she-wolf; there was no threat here, just an offer.

her cheeks were hot. scorched earth that combated the chill in the air.

the woman who had discovered her was...lovely. regal. clean. healthy. bracken could have gone on forever with words in her mind and none of them would have fit herself. she found herself suddenly desperately needing to catch her breath, however it was not for the fall she had taken.

the woman wore a distinct perfume but as she could tell, it was the only kind around here.

she decided it might be good to lean upon the kindness being given to her in this moment.

know healer? she lifted a front left paw in a limp manner. a display of her sudden predicament. her grin was as shy as it was mischievous.

Morwenna’s eyes softened as she took in the state of the injured she-wolf—her tangled fur, the strain in her stance, the quiet, unspoken pride that kept her standing despite the pain. She inclined her head gently, her tone low and steady, each word chosen with care.

I am no healer, she replied, her voice barely above a murmur, but I know enough to help you through this. Morwenna stepped forward, her movements deliberate, unhurried. Her gaze remained fixed on the wounded wolf, as if to assure her there was no shame in needing aid.

Come, she whispered, lowering her body to guide the other into a seated position. Let’s ease the weight from your leg. She waited, her posture open, patient—a quiet offer of refuge amid whatever hardship the stranger had endured.

the kindness continued and unfurled into something so beautiful.

bracken was not one for much thought of religion, but she wondered if karma was real. how much debt she would stack for this kind of thing. what on earth could she possible do to repay this?

she allowed herself to be tended to. promised herself she would not be an ounce difficult if it could be helped. so she settled herself in a mimicked position so that she no longer stood.

not broke. they sought to assure the woman. bracken was no medic herself either, but she could tell from the pain alone that this was not that dire. no need to consider what life might be like without that paw.

how make up for help?

Morwenna’s smile remained soft, her eyes filled with understanding as she helped the injured wolf settle. You’ve done well, she murmured, her voice soothing. Now, let me tend to you.

She gently nudged her into a more comfortable position, offering a brief but reassuring touch before stepping away to find the herbs she needed. Her movements were graceful, deliberate, as if the earth itself was guiding her.

After a short time, Morwenna returned with a bundle of herbs, their scent calming and earthy. She knelt beside the injured wolf once more, her gaze warm and unhurried. This will help ease the pain, she said softly, her paws steady as she applied the salve to the injured paw. No need to worry. I'm here.

when was the last time someone had cared for her like this?

her mouth closed and she found no more words to be spoken. she watched as the woman drifted and used valuable knowledge to pluck things together. she was beautiful and smart. bracken felt every bit like some kind of woodland monster the more she admired this woman.

it was embarrassment, such a rare thing for her that she had not clocked it as such yet.

eyes of dark amber watched the salve be applied. she admired how it was gentle touches but firm enough to apply, to keep in place. the words soothed her as if she was but a babe. there were a million things she wished she was articulate enough to say.

instead it was a clumsy and half-mumbled — thank you — that escaped her at least.

she did not know that her embarrassment unfortunately read clear as day on her face. her avoidant gaze doing no such thing to help her.

Morwenna noticed the shift in the woman’s expression, the subtle tension that betrayed her discomfort. With a soft, reassuring smile, she gently cupped her paw around the injured limb, her touch steady. There is no need to thank me, she said, her voice calm and soothing. I am happy to help.

She leaned closer, her eyes soft with understanding. She even laid down on her belly to be level with her, nose coming closer to her own. I’m Morwenna, a Kappa from Swiftcurrent Creek, she introduced herself with a graceful nod. We all need a little care now and then, no shame in that.

Her gaze remained warm, patient, as she worked to ease the discomfort. You needn't feel embarrassed, she added quietly, sensing the woman’s unease. Maybe after a bit we'll get you a bath.

bracken, was what she plainly offered back in an exchange of introductions. no names of homes or titles of her rank. she was only her.

kindness, kindness, kindness.

it continued to unravel her until she was practically a puddle on the ground. melted into it. her head along the ground, her gaze only for the frost and ash woman. her mood now hovered between embarrassed and smitten.

a bath.

that bad? she huffed in a humor that was borderline self-deprecation in its brand. yet she knew exactly how she looked right now. mud spiked fur, brambles surely tangled somewhere within the clumps too. she knew exactly that it was that bad even if she hoped desperately that it wasn't for her ego's sake.

Morwenna'd listen to the woman. Her stature was impressive, though her weight brought concern to Morwenna. For such a muscled woman, her tone wasn't. She was thin. It worried her.

Bracken, Morwenna's face turned into a smile on the ground, her eyes glittering with recognition that she'd implant for many more days to come, she hoped. There was an airiness to her presence, a docile comfort that Morwenna could recognize. She always wanted to have more female friends, anyways, and there was no scent of a pack lingering in her scent. I like it. It suits you.

Morwenna’s gaze softened as she took in Bracken’s posture, the self-conscious humor in her words. She let a gentle smile tug at her lips, full of warmth and reassurance.

Oh, no, it’s not that terrible, she murmured, voice warm and comforting. But still, you might as well get the full treatment while you’re here. She let her tone drop to a conspiratorial whisper, as if sharing a secret between friends. Besides, a little mud never hurt anyone. I’ve certainly seen worse!

She reached out, nose brushing gently as if to coax Bracken to rise, the gesture as tender as a mother would with her own. Let me help you with those brambles, at least.

she was burning up!

did she have a fever? perhaps the sun had come back out and she had not realized it. yet it was only the compliment that scorched her innards in a fond feeling. she wished to squirm, she wished to stay very still and live in this moment forever. crush? lust? simple confusion from the fall?

bracken was not sure on any of it and what to even do.

instead she fell silent now and allowed this inner fire to work along her. content to be a perfect patient for the rather kind woman. whether she wanted to give her a full spa treatment or only work free the brambles, bracken was willing to cooperate.

feel free to PP bracken being basically just a barbie doll for whatever treatment morwenna wants to give/do <3

A soft smile tugged at Morwenna’s lips as she leaned closer, sensing Bracken’s flush beneath the tangled fur. With delicate care, she tugged each bramble loose, muzzle gliding smoothly over the warmth radiating off Bracken’s nape. Her touch was gentle, almost a soothing balm in itself, though her heart took on a steady rhythm at the closeness.

Once the last thorn slipped free, Morwenna deftly took up a broad fern leaf, her paws moving with a healer's grace. She chewed it briefly, mixing it with the subtle sting of other herbs she’d gathered, her eyes flicking back to Bracken’s in the quiet between them. The way Bracken stilled, content to be cared for, only fueled Morwenna’s tenderness.

You did well, she murmured, voice warm, a hushed softness like a secret shared. The salve she crafted was cool, soothing as it touched Bracken's skin beneath her fur, easing the sting of any scrapes. Just a little more, and it’ll pass soon. She hoped that her touch, her care, might ease whatever had left the young wolf so breathless, so warm with something Morwenna could sense but not name.

it'll pass soon.

she was not sure she was ready for that moment. her shoulders had eased and while the fire had not died within her for the woman, she found it was manageable. she could allow herself the illusion of imaginations and fantasies in her mind. eyes closed while she was tended to.

peaceful, serene.

yearning, missing.

she recalled another woman now. it scattered her thoughts, frazzled them into that messy fire within her. she turned to look at the north-star face of the healer.

how close were they?

Morwenna’s gaze softened as she looked upon Bracken, sensing the woman’s thoughts drifting elsewhere. A quiet familiarity lingered between them, drawing her nearer without the weight of words. She noticed the slight tension in Bracken’s posture, a hint of something distant and unresolved.

Do you belong anywhere? she asked, her voice low, searching. There was a tenderness to her question, a gentle probing as though she were already aware of the answer but longed to hear it spoken aloud. Is there… a place, a pack, that claims you?

Morwenna’s own memories rose unbidden, ghosts of those she had once healed, watched over, only to lose them to the tides of fate. She knew well the longing that came with no anchor to hold one steady. It was a yearning she recognized in Bracken’s silence and the way her gaze seemed to reach out to something that perhaps no longer existed—or perhaps had never truly been.

Her voice softened further, an ember of warmth in the shadows, Or are you a soul adrift, like I once was?

it was a cliché for a patient to become infatuated with the one who tended to them.

it would be fleeting, she knew. yet in that moment she thought the world might just be them! her fur cleansed and bramble woven free by this woman. whatever pain was in her paw had lessened. whether it was credited to the woman or the medicine was unknown to the feral creature.

belonging.

drifting.

nomad she had told a woman once. it had not bothered her as much then, but now she knew it felt like chasing a ghost.

adrift, she confessed softly as if she was opening another wound. yet this one was not of the flesh and she was not sure if she ready for it to mend. even if weather forced her hand, even if mother winter started to show in the cooling temperatures.

no one claims.

proud of this, even if it means adrift.

Morwenna listened, her head tilted in quiet contemplation as Bracken spoke, the pride and defiance in her voice unmistakable. The confession of being unclaimed, adrift—Morwenna understood it all too well, the allure and the weight of it.

She nodded, a soft hum of understanding leaving her as she gathered her thoughts. There was a kinship in Bracken’s words, a mirror to her own heartache, her own years of wandering and searching.

Do you wish it to be different? she asked gently, her voice like a breeze rustling through leaves. To have a home… to be claimed?

Her gaze softened as she looked at Bracken, searching for a hint of what the woman might desire but be too hesitant to say aloud. Morwenna knew that to belong could be as terrifying as it was comforting. To be seen, to be held by a place or a pack—it wasn’t freedom, but it wasn’t captivity either. It was… something in between, a tether and a shelter.

did she?

to be claimed, to be changed.

how long ago had she left the forest behind? how long had it been since she stopped questioning everyone and everywhere? how long, how long —

in others it might have inspired the need to take this chance, to seize the opportunity. instead the idea made her quiver like an arrow held too long. the uncertainty of it all offered some worries on what the changes might bring, what they would look like.

not sure.

and she felt so terrible, to look this gift in the mouth and be scared of all the teeth inside. even if they were kind. even if the change might be pressed on her eventually.

come visit you?

to test the waters, to feel the edges of change before she dove straight in.

Morwenna offered a gentle smile, her gaze warm as she responded. Of course. I want to check in on my patient, see how you’re doing.

Her voice was soft, steady, but there was an undertone of genuine care as she studied Bracken’s face, noting the flicker of hesitation there. Morwenna understood all too well the wariness that came with change, the quiet fear of what it might demand. So, she didn’t press—just waited, offering her presence as a steadying hand, a small piece of reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

i adore her ;; fade?

i will come see.

she promised. she would be a good patient even in their separation. especially if it meant a glimmer of this again. the tenderness and the warmth. she would think fondly of the north-star wolf in the days to come that would separate them.

Morwenna offered a soft smile, her gaze lingering on Bracken as she nodded. Good, she murmured, the word wrapped in quiet contentment.

You will come see, she promised, her voice gentle, almost reverent. The thought of returning brought a warmth she hadn’t realized she craved, a flicker of light in her otherwise solitary days. Yes, she would carry this memory—this rare, tender connection—with her, a north star to guide her through the days until their paths would cross again...

fade!