Stavanger Bay move along, move along

If you mind my assumptions, Danni, just hit me up and I’ll revise! :)

Treepie knew @Alaric wouldn’t want to leave her behind, though she insisted he head back to Dawnspear without her. He had done what he could for her; now he needed to get back to help Haedwig. She asked him to let their pack mates know she needed a few days to herself before she would follow him home.

She had half a mind to go visit Sialuk, though she couldn’t find the energy to go much of anywhere. Tiuttuk spent days in the snowy field where she had found the healer, barely moving. When hunger finally drove her from her wretched pit of depression, she made her way to the nearby coastline.

Icy wind stung her face as she walked along the shore, picking at whatever washed-up carrion she could find. Feeling a little queasy, she took shelter behind a dune, huddling in the sand facing the choppy waters. Fighting nausea distracted her, though not as much as rushing to the water and retching into the surf.

At least her stomach stopped rolling. Tiuttuk rinsed her mouth out with some saltwater, then let out a sigh and began to turn inland. She ought to get back to the mountain before the elements sapped what little remained of her energy.

when sobeille first saw her, she was hunched over in the surf, spine arched and stomach tensed. just the sight of treepie was enough to put aside her search for both cairos and chireille -- if only for minutes.

first came the smirk of knowing, but a residual coldness settled behind her gaze as she came alongside the once-friend. you not supposed to be drinkin' de seawater. sobeille commented, gaze completing a full assessment of treepie's current standing -- including the rather sickly lean of her physique.

Perhaps, under other circumstances, Treepie might’ve reacted more strongly to that familiar Cajun drawl. Now, she merely paused with her snout pointed inland and raised her dull eyes to Sobeille’s masked face. Feelings flickered through her, though her own face remained devoid of anything save for a proverial tinge of green.

So? she said, her voice hollow and a little raspy from the acid and salt burning at the back of her throat. Did you drop them?

Cairos. Chireille. Mirelyn. She said their names in her head as she glanced past Sobeille, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of them. But there was no one there. Sobeille was alone. She’d probably killed all three of them, just like she’d tried to kill Tiuttuk.

last she'd seen treepie, killing had certainly been on the menu. in the end, she hadn't -- for reasons far darker than animosity.

noticing the tinge of green to treepie's expression, sobeille again openly examined her once-friend. she'd hoped that by leaving the water and gull feather, it would signal the sapphiqian's rare good-will despite how they'd left off.

since treepie had never rematerialized, sobeille wondered if the message was ever received at all.

no. sobeille's expression became difficult to read, for truthfully, six different emotions were wrestling at the forefront of her brain.

where 'ave you been?

Liar, she thought, though the look that came over Sobeille’s face made her less than certain. Pie stared at her for a long moment, ignoring the subsequent question. She didn’t owe Sobeille any answers.

No? she parroted instead, angling her body slightly so they were properly face to face. Why not?

Treepie didn’t believe her, though she was forced to admit, if only to herself, that Sobeille had always been honest—brutally so, in the end. Moreover, she wanted to believe that she’d decided against the ruthless ritual, maybe even as a result of their horrible argument.

She sidestepped out of the surf, sharp snout still angled toward Sobeille, glassy eyes eating into that beautiful, barbaric face.

likewise, sobeille's mind rifled through various responses -- settling at last at the inviting idea she owed no answers to someone who deserted her. because that's what it was, right? at the end of the day, sobeille wouldn't recognize her own hand in pushing treepie away. but she would recognize the empty space left by tiuttuk's sudden absence.

holding her gaze, admiring the lean slant of her muzzle once again, sobeille stiffened. not until treepie stepped away from the pounding sea did she reply, a thin blade of an unmentionable emotion dousing her throat. you don't be playin' fair. you ask an' i answer. lifting her chin -- perhaps dangerously so given their distance -- sobeille's yellow eyes traced the face she'd thought of many times these past moons.

Fair? she repeated faintly, still staring at Sobeille. You’re asking me where I’ve been and I’m asking you whether you carried out your plan to murder your children. That hung between them for a beat before Pie added, Don’t forget that you attacked me for wanting to protect them.

She wished she could inject more heat into the words, yet Treepie just didn’t possess the energy. And her stomach soured, preparing a second revolt. Was it the rotten seafood making her gorge rise, or seeing Sobeille again? She licked her lips, fighting back against the bile creeping up her throat.

Speaking of forgetting, she forced out through clenched teeth, you hit my head so hard, it took me months to recover.

sobeille withstood the storm brewing in treepie's gaze, resolute despite the doubt beginning to gnaw around the corners of her armor. funny how perspective worked: she had only ever looked at life through her own lens. hearing it from treepie's perspective, sobeille was struck by the difference in tone.

was she the crazy one..?

i could 'ave killed you. sobeille countered, misreading the souring of treepie's expression as revulsion, or something somehow worse. but i didn't. you attacked my beliefs.

and, a final arrow notched -- primed at the very target sobeille wished to never outdraw.

an' you left me. you left dem. after you swore you never would, she nearly added in afterthought.

It wasn’t just the nausea that kept her tongue still behind the lock of her teeth. Treepie could think of no riposte to such a horrible assertion. It was hard to believe she’d loved Sobeille once, or thought she had.

She knew the accusation was true, in a sense. In the eyes of those children, she’d certainly abandoned them, and to such a terrible fate. Did it matter that she hadn’t done it deliberately? That she’d been harmed badly trying to stand up for them? Had they died, thinking she didn’t care?

Her lip wobbled, two seconds before a second wave of vomit expelled itself from her mouth. She retched onto the wet sand at her feet, then coughed and spat before wiping at her mouth. When she raised her eyes back to Sobeille, one was a smear of red where a blood vessel had burst.

I never would’ve left them with you willingly, she rebuffed in a hoarse voice, before deciding on a more accurate word, or knowingly.

when sobeille first saw treepie that day, she’d prepared for battle. even then, she hadn’t been prepared for how deeply this would sting.

maybe it was because like the total sum of revolving characters in her life, treepie left like they all did. sobeille’s jaw clenched as she watched treepie retch again, this time coming up with an eye steeped in provocative red.

her gut turned, the unnameable emotion fighting its way from her throat known at last to her. treepie’s bloodshot vein, spread like crimson lightning across an otherwise violently yellow sky, served only to hasten it. this, she knew, was dangerous —  a mistake she would not be able to claw back from loomed sinisterly above them both.

for a moment longer she studied the bloodspill in treepie’s eye with raw hunger. taking great effort to break away, sobeille snorted and abruptly turned her back on the wolf that, by her approximation, had done the same to her months ago.

and that missed opportunity for reconciliation — which she felt flutter by like the breath of a ghost — dissipated into the cold wind of the bleak stavanger shore. treepie’s name would join the ranks of other ghosts of sobeille’s past; just another notch in the endless list of those who’d left her to die.


and this time, sobeille would own it.