Phoenix Maplewood through the curtains of the waterfall.

Worst post ever, I apologize. BUT at least we have something up here :D This is backdated to 4/27. This is not mandatory and there is no post order. Yay bugs! @Larkspur @Pippin @Silas @Mordecai @Little Voice @Shikoba

The Maplewood had been abandoned.

This was one of the first pitfalls the deposed pack had run into upon leaving their home at the Hollow. It had been Ishi's suggestion that they go there since he at least clearly had counted them as friends. The chances of the pack taking them in seemed slim, for Spring herself was not the one who made such decisions for the pack. But it was the only idea they'd had, and so they had gone. To find the place abandoned was a blow, but not so terrible a one for the druid as she'd held little hope they'd find sanctuary there anyway.

So it was East that they'd turned, with little reason for it other than it was as far as they could go from where they thought the demon cat to lurk. They had come to the forest from the West, and so the wolves had moved steadily through the abandoned wood. Harlyn settled them that day just beyond its Eastern border having been reluctant to rest within. The pack was gone, but still she felt like a trespasser within its empty arms. It was as though the former residents had left their spirits behind to haunt it, and she was quickly feeling as though she'd had enough of their torments.

Dawn was approaching when a buzzing sound could be heard overhead. Harlyn had managed a couple of hours of sleep with her pups tucked against her when the sound roused her. She lifted her head with sharp eyes and perked ears, her gaze immediately moving skyward to watch a stranger sight than ever she'd before seen. Amongst the pearly white clouds were waves of sand that waxed and waned and swirled like waters in a storm. The sight took her breath away, but in an unpleasant, dreadful way that caused her entire body to tremble with fear.

Harlyn barked sharply as the swarm came nearer and began to descend upon them. She was unaware of the pack around her, if they were nearby at all. She curled herself around her growing babes as best as she could, determined to protect them from whatever this new hell was that rained down upon them. It seemed that there would be no running for her family; the wrath of the gods followed.

Although Larkspur was a good-spirited and obedient child, the stress of abandoning their home and traipsing across the wilderness weighed heavily on the little girl. She stuck close to her parents' heels, alternating between anxiousness and solemnity. She didn't know the word for the deeply rooted homesickness she felt, nor any way to alleviate it. Spur sometimes cried softly at night, so scared and sad about all this upheaval. There was nothing fun or exciting or adventurous about this to the shy little homebody. She wanted to be good, to obey and please her parents, but Spur didn't understand why they were doing this.

When the locusts came, she reacted predictably. Larkspur immediately began to shake and pressed her face into her mother's soft flank, trembling and whimpering in fear. "Wanna go home," she practically sobbed into Harlyn's fur, tears trickling out of the corners of her closed eyes. She let out a small cry when she felt the locusts' wings beating at her back, little heart beating so hard her dam could probably feel it.

Along with the upheaval of his routines, he's not finding this very pleasant. At first, and only sometimes, there had been some entertainment to be had with all of the overwhelming newness. Once tiredness really began to set in and he missed the cozy comforts of home, even those were hard to find though. On the whole, Silas was not in a very good mood about this.

Oftentimes the dark son is quiet with a worried, watchful furrow on his face. He usally does what he can to be near his siblings. He unknowingly senses they need him as much as he needs them. If he's not with them, he's sure to never be out of sight of someone else and it really makes him miss prowling through the Hollow's underbrush sorely. He's too wary of nothing smelling like anything he knows to go anywhere else to do anything else, even if he somehow feels cooped up and exposed out in the open at the same time.

Silas wakes fitfully when the locusts start invading the area and his bleary, sleepy head struggles to process the full extent of how awful this was. Once the bugs become thick enough to crash into him peridically, he huddles close to his mother's protective presence, knowing above all else that he's just downright tired of feeling scared somehow.

The band that travelled from Lost Creek Hollow was not cheery or optimistic. The Ostrega family and their two friends hadn't been enough to hold the Hollow against the cougar who terrorised them, and so they had fled. Their destination was Phoenix Maplewood, and the one who perhaps had the warmest feelings about this was Little Voice, so renamed because he could not longer refer to himself as the completely different person he'd been before the cougar had taken him. Spring was at the Maplewood. But, as it transpired, she wasn't at all. Nor was anyone. There was just... death, a cloud of death!

Startled and staring, the boy could barely believe the insane nameless sight and sound of the plague that all of a sudden wrapped the forest. Had he still been Ishi, this would have been such a glorious adventure. Out on the road with his packmates, finally getting a chance to explore his friend Spring's home, and dodging brand new dangers. But this... oh this. He didn't know what to think, he didn't know what to feel. So he beelined for the nearest pup (Larkspur) and swept away as many insects from her fur as he could before laying down at her side, soft white paw over her, silently begging Mordecai and Harlyn to save the day and make everything right again.

Pippin was tired –what he had considered as being ‘tired’ before had paled in comparison to the level of fatigue that washed over him now, and he felt the tremor of his wariness in his shaking legs. They had left their home behind – Pippin had followed dutifully, and for once without question, but it was in the night, when his sister’s quiet cries woke him from an already restless sleep, he felt a surge of heartbreak for what had once been familiar.
 
Harlyn’s bark drew his eyes up – the ambling pup had almost fallen asleep mid-walk, it felt, and his eyes caught the flash of darkness descending upon them before Harlyn instinctively coiled about them. Larkspur cried, despite the presence of another adult – and with fright coiling even in his belly, the boy huddled close to her, trying to soothe her in the only way he knew how to at this point – his muzzle wrapping across her shoulders, holding her tight, and his own frightened whimpers of discomfort as dark objects battered him – he would only come to realize later they were bugs, and as they began to stick to his fur, a low, desperate howl began to echo from his muzzle, muffled by the fur of his family.

Coming across the Maplewood may as well have been yet another omen cast for them. But it's empty forest had provided them with shelter for the time being, though he had no interest in staying there permanently. If the wolves had left there, something must have gone wrong as well, and he would not take any more of a risk than they had already made by leaving their own territory. Nightfall and weary bones had ushered them to halt, and so he slept, surprisingly well.

He slept well enough that whatever tossing and turning occurred did not wake him readily, and if it did he scarcely retained memory of the event. Even throughout all that had befallen them, Mordecai could not have claimed a total lack of sleep. At least in the throes of rest, he normally did not remember his worries or frustrations, perhaps did not even bother to dream of anything close to it in particular.

The initial wave of bugs did not stir him as it should have; they were too easily passed off as little paws stepping across him in some mock escape attempt. But the sudden jerk of Harlyn crying out pulled him swiftly into action before he was ready. The run of insects gave him a further start because of their sheer number, but it passed in lieu of building curiosity and concern as to where so many had come from.

The traveling pack had stayed together, and Shikoba did her best to keep up. The day's we're dragging on for her, but today... Something was stirring.

Whether it was the chill in her torn skin or her aching bones, the native felt like something bad was going to happen.

What caught him her attention was the cloud. It was dark and brooding, yet- buzzing?

Locusts. Ravenous bugs with no sense of mercy. They rained down like acid, and Harlyn had given out a warning call. She was already protecting her children, Ishi had run to help cover.

The Druid felt fear wash over her like waves in the ocean. She couldn't move her limbs past the loud noise of batting wings.

she has to shake her head severely to awaken her consciousness. Quickly, as fast as she could, she made her way over to Harlyn. She could see the pups push into her for protection, Shikoba had to do something.

Shikoba quickly laid herself ontop of Harlyn. She tried to shield her friend and the children from the swarm, feeling the bugs fly into her ears and nose. She leant her head down and tried to snatch off the bugs that dared touch her family.

no post order still!

The seconds passed by in long stretches. Her children crowded her fearfully and not for the first time did Harlyn wish they were still tiny babes that she could envelope completely in order to shield them from this onslaught. She gave a thankful look to Little Voice as he lent his body to help protect them and tried to tuck herself closer to him. Shikoba joined them soon as well, and Harlyn pushed her muzzle to touch her shoulder in thanks.

It didn't take Harlyn long to realize that these insects were doing them no harm. They were not stinging or biting, but it still was distressing to be so suddenly and completely enveloped in the swarm. She shifted her muzzle to reach for her children, touching them each with a soothing growl. She prayed that it would be over soon, that this would pass and her children could grow calm again. But something told her this was not a fleeting thing, and even if the gods had not been so deaf to get prayers as of late, this trauma would continue.

It was easy to lose track of the time here enveloped in the swarmed strange lands. Silas trembled and did all he could to curl up and bury himself in the shelter of his family. Hearing his siblings despair, even over the awful buzzing, did nothing to help him and he willed all of it to just stop already.

Even when he felt like they couldn't take any more of this, that it had to be over soon, it just kept going. This was unlike everything he knew. Silas didn't understand why this was happening to them now or even what this was, besides just something really awful. He just wanted to go home..

He eventually mustered the courage thanks to his mother's nudge to actually look around at what was happening. Bugs covered everything. Himself included. He shivered his furs, trying to dislodge a few of them. Just awful.

Stop this stop this stop stooooooop was all he could think and feel in this moment.

To make matters even worse, the other wolves—the strangers—began to crowd against her, even touching her. A small cry of despair tumbled from the little girl's lips when a soft paw brushed against her. Although the group had been traveling together for days now, Spur still wasn't comfortable with any of them. There were only four wolves (five, if she included herself) in the pup's bubble of comfort: mommy, daddy, Silas and Pippin.

But there was nothing she could do except bury her face in Harlyn's side and bawl fearfully, hating everything about existence as strange, scary things kept touching every inch of her small body.

The nomadic group huddled together, and his vision went dark as his eyes closed and he felt fur against his face. As he heard Larkspur cry for her mother and cower from his comfort, tears stung his eyes in empathy and sorrow. What a sad and horrible situation this was, but he did not feel as stuck in it as he had in the cougar's grasp. Nothing could compare to that. So he kept his head, and closed his eyes tighter still, waiting uselessly for the dark world to pass and give them just a little bit of much-needed light.

Larkspur’s cries clenched his heart and his nerves – the frantic sound only causing his own panic to heighten with each rising note. He tried to press closer to her – to Harlyn – to anything that was warm. With his eyes squeezed shut, the boy made no sound, nor did he look around – his terror gripped him like a vice, and he could no longer move, nor think.
 
All he knew was he wanted this all to end, and he wanted to go home.

With more and more plagues flying above, Shikoba felt her body tense up as darkness cloacked the group. She could feel their wings beat inside of her ears, th e buzzing almost painful. Their sticky feet clung to her fur, crawling along like spiders on a web.

All that mattered was keeping her family safe. She would stay as a shield for any amount of time needed. The children, they were scared, frightened, in danger. And Shikoba felt weak for not being able to do anything about it.

Gonna wrap this up :)

The minutes seemed to drag on and there came no eb to the swarm. It would take a while for Harlyn to accept that there would come no end to this anytime soon. They would have to move on, regardless of the locusts that rained down upon them. It would be torture for the children, and torture for the pack because of how miserable they were. But there would be no other option for the little band, and so they would go off into a world that had grown even more bleak and hopeless than ever before.