Ravensblood Forest the bigger they are, the harder they fall

@Pied

Jinx quit the Creek under cloak of the Stygian dawn, whose air shimmer with crisp ice fog. As paws directed her toward the mountain pass, her mind lapsed into the not-so-distant past, singling out her last words to Akhlut. She had not decorated her words with encouragement then, nor would she have done so now. Hers was an unfailing lack of faith—perhaps if she had looked back in time she might recognize it—that he could not remedy. But something he had said remained with her, following her like silent ghosts, plucking at her mind... And until today she had let that something simmer, placing it on her mental back-burners for another time.

But as she crossed over the mountains, following the pass that Hawkeye no doubt watched over, she knew that time was now. She cut close to the Plateau's territory, skirting by with little care whether they found her. Her injuries had had enough time to heal, so if she had to flee with her tail betwixt her legs, it would not be difficult. Aside from that confidence, Jinx still faulted Hawkeye for setting a demon dog on her, no matter how untrue it may be. The Kesuk had no more desire to see the hefty female than she did the desire to stand in the midst of a wildfire. Nevertheless, the pass was the quickest way from Swiftcurrent Creek to her destination, so she had no choice but to come close. To her pleasure, she was not spotted.

She dipped into the shadows of Ravensblood with a sigh of relief, edged with slight wariness. She was unaware that Akhlut had taken her criticism like a man and had upped his border presence, but still she was cautious. The mambo wouldn't put it past him, he who thought himself worthy when he had failed to prove why, to have warned all his wolves of her. He had extended an invitation to remain at the Ridge, but Jinx had been born suspicious, and did not trust him at his word. Should she have stayed, and her guard fallen, she might have found his teeth in her throat some dark night. She might have looked into his eyes as he whispered mutinous bitch in her face and stole away her life.

So close to his territory, it was no wonder she hesitated. It was no wonder she drew up one paw, contemplating the worth of following through with this venture. She almost turned back... But if she turned back to the Plateau and tried to sneak back over the pass, now that it was later in the morning, they might catch her. So Jinx mustered what craven courage she had and lifted her head to the sky, summoning... Anyone, it seemed. She didn't wish to see Akhlut, nor Kisu, nor any of the wolves who would claim she had acted in selfish greed rather than for the pack's benefit... But perhaps she could find someone less judgemental of her, and pass along a message that way.

Morning found Pied in an unexpected place, considering she'd only just started venturing away from the den again yesterday. Like a pup who'd just discovered the world, she strayed further than she'd intended. Now, black trees loomed at her shoulder as she hobbled along the very edge of the wooded realm known as Ravensblood Forest. Realizing how far she'd unintentionally come, she paused and considered the long trek back. Deciding she'd better go no further, she dropped to her haunches, wincing slightly as her sore body protested the day's exertions.

The Gamma nearly wet herself when a howl abruptly tore through the air, coming from within startlingly close range. Her yellow eyes scanned the nearby tree line and soon enough clapped upon a familiar figure skulking near the boundaries between the forest and the ridge. Pied's ears settled slightly backward as she watched Jinx, wondering what the Kesuk wanted. Although cooped up in her den until recently and barely conscious half the time besides, she'd heard about Jinx's departure, albeit not in great detail.

Although part of Pied wanted to wag her tongue at the other she-wolf, pointing out that she'd abandoned a pack twice now, the compulsion was surprisingly weak. Rather, she felt more curious than anything. She wanted to know what had driven Jinx from the ridge's ranks and Pied knew that, if nothing else, Jinx's take would surely be an intriguingly dramatic tale. She also suspected part of the reasoning for Jinx's desertion and even, daresay, understood it; hadn't Pied herself been contemplating leaving until the orca attack and Akhlut's serendipitous comeback?

Too tired to move closer, Pied sucked in a deep breath—her ribs smarted—and shouted simply, "Jinx!" to get her attention and hopefully prompt the Kesuk to walk over to her.

Hmm? went her mind when the holler of her name broke the morning's hush. How she had passed by without catching sight of Pied was uncertain, but Jinx was happy to see her now—at least, compared to weeks prior. Much of her ire had faded from then, though she would hesitate to ever say they were friends. The sound of Pied's voice relieved her, though, because somewhere inside her, she had worried. She had worried that Pied might die from her traumatic experience with the blackfish. Perhaps it wasn't prudent to say it, but Jinx most likely extended this concern to Pied less on personal matters and more on religious ones.

After all, Pied had revealed a few things of interest: first, she saw the spirits of the dead. Second, Atka had come to her in a dream and given Her decree that Pied's children would be born blessed, or something to that effect. Third, she had, albeit in not so many words, agreed with Akhlut's scarcity... Which caused Jinx to wonder why she was still there.

"Yesss?" she hummed, her voice soft and devoid of its usual distaste and suspicion. It wasn't congruous for her, a lurker on the border, to enquire anything of Pied, but she did nonetheless. It was less a jab, and more that the dappled female had shaken her resolve by calling to her... And, if she was honest, Jinx was beginning to forget why she had come in the first place. But, as if to lessen this intrusion into protocol, she added with a small smile, "I am glad you are recovering."

Jinx came to her, seemingly as curious as Pied herself. The Gamma's brow quirked a fraction of an inch at the way the Kesuk hissed like some sort of serpent. Overlooking it, her dappled head tilted inquisitively at the other female's well-meaning expression. Her eyes narrowed slightly, though she decided to accept Jinx's words as genuine. Her face resumed a more relaxed, resigned expression, peppered with the occasional wince as her aching body twinged.

"What happened?" she asked simply. "Did you leave because of Akhlut?" she guessed in the next beat, before Jinx could answer. Beyond that, she held her tongue, allowing the Kesuk to speak for herself.

"Ah," she exclaimed when Pied launched immediately into inquisition mode, albeit with a more gentle approach than months prior. "Yes, I did," she said, her voice slow as though she hadn't quite thought of it yet, and then rolled her shoulders. "You see, Akhlut is of my blood. His mother is mine own." Perhaps it didn't bode well for Jinx to reveal this to Pied—what she said next would reflect on herself—but it didn't matter enough for her to stop.

"After the Houngan died, my mother led Shearwater Bay distantly." Of course, Jinx hadn't come to this conclusion herself. The pack had told her and Kaskae when they had come of official age, and taken on their roles in earnest pursuit of the Gods' will. In saying all this, Jinx forgot that Pied didn't know what Shearwater Bay was, nor who the Houngan was. So condition was she by her former life that at times she lost sight of its difference from the lives of those in the Wilds.

"She became more and more distant as my littermates and I grew, and one day, she was gone, without a word." There was some loathing here, buried in Jinx's breast... After all, Akhlut's birth confirmed that Nanuq had found a life elsewhere, and forgotten her former cubs. It had never sat well with Jinx to be abandoned by her mother, not when she showed so much promise. "I see this same distance in Akhlut," she concluded, "but he does not have strong heirs to take over when he disappears. I fear his aloofness will be this pack's downfall."

There was the matter that Akhlut had taken what she'd said to heart and upped his efforts... Something she could not know and would not have trusted anyway. "He was not willing to turn it over to me," she said, "and so I cannot stay. I cannot trust him to lead strongly and keep the Ridge stable. My shaman has returned and runs with an old... Friend. For him I would cross worlds, and I defer to his judgment of her as strong and able."

Just as Pied knew she would, Jinx took advantage of the opportunity to tell her side of the story, launching readily into the backstory leading up to her departure. It began with a mention of shared bloodlines with Akhlut; the Gamma received this information with a faint twitch of a gray ear. The Kesuk traced her current fears back through history, particularly to their shared mother. Again, Pied wanted to point out that Jinx was just as guilty as her mother and Akhlut but, knowing the argument would fall on deaf ears, she remained mum.

"You know I shared your anxiety," Pied said after Jinx finished, "but he's actually doing better now, not that I expect that to mean anything to you at this point." She shrugged a pale, dappled shoulder. Then, despite her resolution not to bring it up, she nonetheless found herself unable to resist asking, "How is what we did with Bon Dye any different than what you did with Horizon Ridge?" Only, a second later, she added, "Never mind, we'll never agree on that subject," to dismiss it just as quickly.

Pied thought, Honestly, we'd just be trading one flake for another, in regards to the prospect of Jinx ruling the ridge. She was quietly glad this hadn't come to pass, even though there was a part of her that was genuinely sorry that Jinx was no longer part of the ridge. Despite their troubled history, Pied did see the value in Jinx. She supposed she'd hoped to one day reconcile their differences too and now it just seemed like their spheres just wouldn't touch much anymore.

"So where are you living now?" Pied wondered, genuinely interested. "And—wait a second. Is the shaman you mentioned the same one who lived in Bon Dye? Who disappeared the same time you did?"

"It should not take losing one of his most dedicated for him to be better," she dismissed. Perhaps Akhlut did want to do better by his pack... Or perhaps he was putting on a mere facade of improvement, having endured Jinx's calling out his poor leadership. No matter how many wolves disputed her abilities based on one single instance, it was not a lie for her to claim her own experience. Unfortunately, neither Akhlut nor Pied seemed to understand that she had led a pack for well over a year before ever leaving. This was clear when Pied brought up Bon Dye.

It took only that for Jinx's eyes to harden, for her demeanour to change to something sharp. Pied was quick to dismiss it, but the Kesuk felt too much affront at it having come up again to let it drop just like that. "What you did with Bon Dye was turn every wolf I ever trusted here against me," she said, frowning. "I understand wolves here do not feel Sos and Atka as wolves from where I come from do. I understand questioning faith, so I understand when you do not understand why I was away, nor realize that my shaman and my Beta left at the same time to heed similar calls."

"What I do not understand," she said, with a flick of her ears, "was my being at fault for every single problem perceived in the pack." Bon Dye had had more wolves than just Jinx; it had had Pied and Hawkeye, two of her hopeful pupils. Two who she had once looked upon with respect, and believed could rise to Bon Dye's highest ranked. It had had Vires, who scouted and hunted. It had had Cuan, who diffused tension. "I have heard it all. I left, leaving you all to starve, because as an Alpha I am solely responsible for feeding everybody. I left, leaving you all helpless, because as an Alpha I am solely responsible for protecting everybody."

"Perhaps, as Hawkeye once told me, I should have said something. The call of Sos was great that night. I heeded, heedless of my followers, and that was wrong." It was the first admission of fault she had had since the incident with the river, when she had left. It was the first acknowledgement of her own part in it, but it was not hers to accept full blame for. "But I returned to find my pack gone. I had thought, if nothing else, you could have faith in the forest and the loa, to remain there long enough for me to return and explain. I returned not only to find they were gone, but to find they all despised me for it." Her gaze was pointed, but not accusing... Not exactly.

"What I did with Horizon Ridge was leave because of my own problems with my leader, not someone else's. I did not waltz out into the pack and proclaim for all to hear my reasons for leaving. I did not call him out as a pathetic leader and try to rise all others up against him. When wolves he once led approach him, such as my charge Aethon, they will not do so with venomous accusation and judgement, as Hawkeye and you did me. As Zombie did, despite wanting to stay in the forest." She could not forget the look of resentment on the female's face when she had spoken of it, try as she might. But Zombie was forced to leave by necessity... When Hawkeye uprooted the pack and left.

"Now," she said, somewhat firmly, "I think it is unfair that you and others continue to bring up as argument against anything I do one lapse in communication, don't you? I worked hard for the Ridge." Her ears pulled back as she awaited an answer, and regardless what it was, she let the tension go.

"I follow Lethe Styx of Swiftcurrent Creek, now," she said, and though it wasn't said with too much pride, it she said it with strength in her voice.

Pied should have known that Jinx wouldn't let it go, that she would spot the opportunity to defend herself yet again. Although it set the Gamma's teeth on edge, she couldn't exactly blame the Kesuk; she'd brought it up. Keeping this in mind, she listened, trying to do so with an open mind. Several times, her lips parted, yet she did not talk over Jinx, letting her finish her piece uninterrupted.

"I made a point of not publicizing our bad blood. I probably slipped up a time or two but I won't take responsibility for your bad reputation," Pied rejoined in a steely tone. "As the Alpha, you were intended to be the glue that held us together. That's all we mean when we say those things to you, Jinx. I don't think they're all meant literally. In any case, all we did was reject your absentee leadership, choosing a new and more capable leader and a better territory. Do you see the parallels in the two situations?" She let out a breath. "I only mentioned it in the hope that it had given you perspective. I should've kept my mouth shut. I won't bring it up again—with you or anybody else," Pied said with a note of finality, answering to Jinx's exhaustion on the topic.

"I do agree that you worked hard," Pied said, not unwilling to give Jinx credit, especially considering that the Kesuk had finally taken responsibility for her actions. "I'd heard that you did call him out and attempt to rally the others to usurp him. Or isn't that the truth?" Her eyes sought Jinx's face and fixed on it, hoping to read it when the Kesuk answered.

"Ah," was her only response when Jinx named her new pack and leader. The names honestly meant nothing to her, if only because they were completely unfamiliar. "And the shaman?" she pressed, giving the Kesuk the benefit of the doubt as to why she hadn't answered. Perhaps she'd been too caught up on her soapbox to recall and address the yearling's query about him.

"I do not need perspective," Jinx pointed out, her temper flaring briefly. If anybody needed perspective, she thought, it was Pied. It was Hawkeye, and Zombie. In Jinx's mind, she had messed up once. She had messed up bad but nevertheless, it was once. In all her time leading Shearwater Bay, Jinx prided herself in making few mistakes, and repairing what damage Nanuq had wrought with her senseless campaign against Siku. Oh, what her wrath might've done to these Teekon Wilds wolves had she known they judged her for Shearwater Bay, as well, they who knew nothing of her... Who knew nothing of the pain she felt every day knowing she could not return there.

"It seems to me that claiming you were all going to starve because of me, and claiming that the wolf who maintained order had left you, are very different claims," she said quietly, but somberly, with the corner of her lip pulled up briefly in an unclear expression. "But, if you wish to make it seem like the things I've heard others say of me are less... Poisonousss, well, the better for your conscience. I do not have a bad reputation amongst those who have not heard of Bon Dye." Jinx didn't know whether it was Pied or Hawkeye that spread rumours of her, but she had been approached about them before. Zombie had said it, and Akhlut had once asked her about it. No doubt he had heard of it from the giant mouths of her former subordinates; all wolves who knew of Bon Dye were apt to claim her inept, and all who did not treated her well as any other, or at least that was the exaggerated claim Jinx would make.

There were others—Chakra, Peregrine, some others who had heard of the infamous Jinx who, she thought, had truly done little to earn her infamy—but she hadn't heard of them. "In any case," she said, mimicking Pied's own words, and for once dropping the subject, "if what I did is no different than what you did, then Akhlut is no different than I for being away, and if I am a hypocrite to leave, then you are a hypocrite to stay." Not that she thought Pied would ever leave based on that, but she thought it was clever nonetheless (even if it wasn't).

"As for my shaman," she said, "yes, it is Lecter. He was summoned by Sos as well, at the same time. So was Clarice, his daughter." While this was a coincidence borne mostly of each wolf's deluded views, to Jinx, it was twisted confirmation that she had done the right thing, and that the remains of Bon Dye had not.

Once again, Jinx overlooked her question. Although it irritated her, she didn't feel like repeating herself yet again, so she let that one go. Her ears twitched faintly when the Kesuk named her a hypocrite, her expression clearly indicating her thoughts: We'll just have to agree to disagree. With that said, Pied wouldn't be able to help going back over this conversation later and mulling over Jinx's points, voluntarily or not.

"Well, isn't that an incredible coincidence," Pied grumbled lowly, wondering how it was Jinx still thought Bon Dye—abandoned not only by its Alpha but all its highly-ranked wolves—should've simply forged ahead without batting an eyelash. Her energy for the topic had been sapped, however, so she said nothing more about it.

"So did Akhlut kick you out or did you leave voluntarily in the end?" Pied wondered. If he came upon them and saw Pied fraternizing with Jinx, what would he think? If Akhlut considered Jinx an enemy of the ridge, then surely he wouldn't be likely to forge and alliance with this creek pack... which truly meant that their paths had split and, for better or worse, the Kesuk would likely fall out of her life.

"Voluntarily," she rejoined without pause. "Akhlut offered to let me stay, but I know how it works. I would never be given credit or recognition for my efforts again, and I would rather be with my kin." If one could look into Jinx's mind they would find a number of other reasons: she no longer wished to live amongst heathen wolves who either didn't pay the Gods respect or else had bastard worships of Them. She had shared something primal with Lecter, and inwardly desired to keep an eye on him, and on Lethe. Jinx was also perturbed she was not given leadership of Horizon Ridge... But that was deep inside her, hidden behind her self-righteous denial. And part of what she had said was true—if she had stayed, no doubt Akhlut would strip her rights and never given her an ounce of credit for her efforts again.

"You must understand the desire to be with kin," she suggested, eager to drop the subject of Bon Dye. Despite her desire for the pack to be forgotten and for her capabilities and experience to be what others judged her on, she was the one who had dragged it out. Perhaps the concept of love was foreign to Jinx, and perhaps Pied could not fathom the mambo caring for anyone—at times, it was easy to forget that of moral rivals—but it was nevertheless a fact. All wolves desired to be with their families... At least, she thought so.

Although it instinctually rubbed Pied the wrong way to hear someone speak ill of her leader, she said nothing in reply to Jinx's statement. Although she'd seen much more of Akhlut lately and he'd begun to redeem himself—and though she never planned to breathe a word about what she'd planned to do the day of her attack—she hadn't forgotten about his scarcity or its effects on her. Honestly, she was tempted to agree with the Kesuk, though she dared not admit this aloud for multiple reasons.

"You say that as if you think I blame you for this," Pied answered slowly to the Kesuk's latest remark. "You should know that I am, I guess, indifferent. Remember when you were injured and we talked of Akhlut then? You know I shared your worries, so it's not like I can hold everything against you just like that. Obviously, my loyalties lie with Akhlut still and you and I have a rocky history but... I don't wish you ill will, Jinx, for what's happened. Actually, I..." She hesitated, then laughed as if to herself, then finished, "I hope you find happiness there and that your flaky days are behind you." An almost impish gleam shone in her eye at the word flaky, as winking would be taking it a bit too far.

"Well," Pied said in the next beat, "I'm glad I got your side of the story; I always would've wondered if I hadn't. It looks like our paths divide here." As she gave voice to her earlier thought, she felt a strange pang, almost like she'd miss Jinx. She was even tempted to call some sort of truce. It made her a little uncomfortable and she didn't voice either sentiment. "I guess this is farewell?" she said instead, a bit awkwardly, feeling as if she was dismissing Jinx but unsure of what to say or do next. They really had reached the end of the line.

If she had been more apt to own up to her mistakes, Jinx might have seen the opportunity to atone for Bon Dye. Alas, the black-toed female wrapped even herself in deceit and lies to cover up her insecurities. She would never admit to having any trait that she perceived in her mother, Nanuq Kesuk. The Warchief who had abandoned her children, Jinx despised, and wanted nothing to do with. So the suggestion that she was flaky, like her mum had been, was almost met with protestation, but the mambo managed to hold it back. Something about Pied told her it wasn't meant to be as harmful as it had in the past. Jinx hadn't expected the wish for happiness from Pied's lips; she lowered her head in gratitude, speechless.

But soon the spell of struggling for words to say passed, and she was able to find her voice once more. "I suppose it is farewell. Take care of this pack," she chuffed, trying to sound as aloof as possible but failing. "When... If Akhlut should fail, don't allow Horizon Ridge to fall." If nothing else, Jinx cared for the pack... Though she would have been better to be there to defend it herself, she saw little fault in her actions. This would be no different.

"Take care of yourself, and your kids," she said, and for a moment it seemed like she would say more. She hadn't forgotten the catnip affixed to the talisman she had given Pied for the mateship ceremony... But rather than risking the woman's further ire, she said nothing. "Keep Kisu out of trouble." By now, it was probable that Jinx was beginning to look like she was stalling.. Which indeed was the case. She didn't know the best way to part, nor did she want to do so on the coattails of an awkward goodbye. They weren't friends, she reminded herself.

So she turned then, pressing her flank against a nearby tree and pausing just long enough to allow Pied to say anything she'd like. But before she slipped away, a thought occurred to her, and she turned back, her face eager. "I have heard Atka," Jinx revealed, aware that this was out of the blue but uncaring. "A few days ago. She has high hopes for your daughter. I could not discern what Her plans are, or whether there will be more than a daughter when you have them, but... I believe She would want you and your daughter to remain here. Despite Akhlut, I think... This is your place. Protect this place, and Atka will be with you." Her gaze lingered on the mottled woman for just a moment more, and then she slipped away into the shadows to make her way back home.

Especially because he'd worked so hard to redeem himself lately, the idea of responsibility for the ridge falling to her jarred Pied. If anything happened to Akhlut, the fate of the pack would indeed fall upon her young, dappled shoulders, as she was first in line after him. The thought left her mouth rather dry, though she reminded herself that Kisu would be there by her side, which alleviated some of the initial prickliness of the idea. And, anyway, hopefully Akhlut would be around for a long time to come.

"I will," Pied replied when Jinx gave her well wishes for her mate and their future progeny. "Thanks, Jinx," she thought to add after a beat, the words sounding odd but certainly not false to her own ears. "Goodbye," she said when the Kesuk didn't speak the word herself.

Before Jinx could disappear into the shadows, the Kesuk stopped and gave voice to a thought that had evidently only just occurred to her. Pied listened, remaining motionless as the message bounced around her brain. She forgot to acknowledge it right away and by the time her lips began to move, Jinx was already gone.

Standing there, Pied experienced a feeling she couldn't name; it felt a little like regret, with a sense of unfinished business. She swallowed, then with Jinx's message from Atka still fresh in her mind, she began the arduous trek back home to her lair.