Lost Creek Hollow the days are muted

It had been almost two months since Pippin had seen his family. For all intent and logic, the boy should have been dead – withered away to nothing now. Still, somehow he had managed the life of a lone wolf – albeit barely. His golden fur was drab – hanging from his frail body as if it would fall out in tufts. His eyes were dull, lifeless almost – but there was a peace he had found in his days at Lost Creek Hollow, and despite missing his family with a terrible ferocity, he insisted to himself that he was finally home.
 
He cleaned off a mouse then, as he lay by the Ostrega’s old den. The bones crunched in his teeth, and while the nourishment was not much – definitely not enough – it would tide over the gnawing hunger for now.
 
He had not spoken to another since his run in with the strange she-wolf who had wanted to kidnap him – and her male companion who had suggested killing him. He slept little – his dreams only described as nightmares as he relived the feeling of Tambourine’s tender flesh and bones within his angry jaws. The more he thought of that day, the more blurred it had become to him, until now he was convinced that he was purely a monster.
 
And monster’s deserved to die alone.

she slept, and she walked; her dreams took her limbs, her mind, her eyes from her.

and when she awoke, she was transplanted to a place she did not know. it was cozy, and lovely to the eye even in the gloom of night! deirdre peered upward into a tree and asked an owl preparing for the hunt: excuse me, would you be able to tell me where i am? but the owl could not, as he was not of this forest; he had been passing through to rest, to hunt, and would be on his way come morning. deirdre thanked him for his time; owls could be fussy when bothered, but this one had been nothing short of polite.

deirdre moved through the hollow territory slowly, taking stock of everything around her. nothing was familiar to her, and she felt as though she had entered a place lost in time, forgotten. it gave her a chill, this thought, but she continued on her way, hoping to navigate her way to the forests end. she was nearing the ostrega's densite, but did not know it.

Time had passed, but he could not say how long. Hours, perhaps? There was a shooting pain in his stomach – a reminder that he had not eaten a true meal for days. He still did not unfurl himself from his position – insisting only on maintaining safety for now after the ordeals of weeks past. But it was a soothing voice that did stir him, though he stiffened in reaction.
 
The voice sounded like a song, and instantly Pippin did not trust it – was this not hallucinations now, come to take him to the next world? He almost prayed it were – he was done here, he felt. There was no joy. There was no light. There was simply nothingness.
 
Yet his hallucination crept closer – he could smell her on the breeze now but he did not move.. he did not know if he should greet what he assumed to finally be the angel of death that would take him, or if he would fight to stay within such a cold world.

as she moved, she heard the call of an injured creature. her heart went to it, but the call was not so typical in nature; it was deaths woeful song that met her ear, a wretched, pained sound that begged another to offer it mercy. soft-hearted as she was, deirdre steeled herself; she knew that in these instances, she must turn her heart away. for the other to live longer and suffer more for it was a cruelty deirdre could not thrust upon any creature. the pained banshee cry was found quite quickly by deirdre, who followed it as though she were the bean sighe herself. she was too fair to wear the name, and deirdre herself would not scream as the harpy would.

it was a broken thing she saw. a rabbit, dropped from the heavens by some bird of prey that had not died upon impact. no doubt the avian thing was flying 'round to devour it, but deirdre herself hungered... and its struggle pained her, as though she herself endured it! a tear sprung from her eye as she swiftly brought the thing to its end, and then she carried it away from its grave. it had not been waiting so long there, but long enough that deirdre did not even consider leaving it to the masochistic thing that had released it in the sky to begin with!

it was not she moved past the densite, but so hurt was her heart for the death of the long-earred rabbit that she did not yet notice the hungry, broken wolf that lay there. though she felt she had played the part of the reaper today, the scythe of her fangs would not come for him this brisk eve.

The steps moved closer – there was a piercing cry, and Pippin could not help but completely fold in to himself further. It was then the rabbit dropped down – from the sky above, and the boy stared at it in awe. It was in pain – that was apparent. The angel finally came to him fully now – she appeared as if from a dream, her movement lithe, her features gentle.
 
And as he suspected, she was an angel of death, for her jaws clamped over the creature and ended it’s suffering.
 
Was this a sign? That he was to allow her to also end his suffering. He did not realize that she hadn’t seen him yet, and with a new surge of confidence, the young wolf lifted his golden head, his eyes bright as they squarely set upon her. “I’m ready,” he whispered to her, his voice raspy from months of misuse, his nose lifting up, exposing his throat – allowing her access to his life vein.

deirdre would have not have seen him, had he not spoken; she heard him, firstly, and was given pause from her mourning. his words were ones she did not understand, and unable to put context to them she could not, even intuitively, deduce what it was the lost prince had meant.

so she placed the dead creature upon the earth and looked to the other, taking in their sorry appearance. it did not detract, at all, from his handsome features... and there was something beautifully familiar about them, something that made her feel... peace.

i am afraid i do not know what it is that you mean, she admitted to him, her head tilting slightly as she spoke the words. and it was as she spoke them he displayed his throat to her, and deirdre blinked. are you... are you looking for one to pledge fealty to...? she could not, would not!, assume he asked for death as the rabbit had! who would wish for such a thing, she wondered? perhaps the gesture could also be an ultimate pledge: i am ready to give you my life... and yet, that did not make sense either, for he did not know her!

Pippin, for all the long months that he did not speak – his eyes wanted to skirt around the Creek, to note that this was truly where his last happy memories were, and where his voice had essentially died, but he understood words. Others had taken him for dumb – he had never been stupid (spare for the day his teeth had made moves to Tambourine’s own life) but he had held himself in his own isolation. Larkpsur had understood this – perhaps she had been the only one to do so.
 
The sylph-like creature was confused by his words, and he felt a frown pull at his golden features. Did he need to spell out to her that she could take his life, now? He considered Tavi’s lingering jaws – she had been so close, and he firmly believed she had likely taken his mother’s life after. Then he considered the strange pair that had found them – they had mentioned killing him. They had kept him against his will. Kindness, as much as they had tried to express it, did not seem to push through the young wolf’s barrier, and he felt his amber eyes slide shut for a moment. “I’m r-r-ready for it to e-end,” he spoke again, hearing the tremor in his voice and knowing that not just fear added to it.

ah, but his words caused her to think that which she did not desire to. the pale beauty exhaled softly at his words, and shook her head. it is not the end for you yet, and she looked 'round them, seeing none in sight that would bring it for him. i am not your reaper. this she clarified for him, her voice gentle and sweet but firm; she carried with her no scythe, and her fangs would not act the part even if he begged it of them!

deirdre glanced to the morsel at her feet, and then she nosed it toward him. here, eat--you need this more than i do, i think,

He would slowly lower his muzzle, though the quake in his bones did not stop. His eyes glistened as they studied her – raw emotion spilling form them, but Pippin had been a wolf of such little words, he did not know how to bring forward his thoughts or displeasure.
 
What if he wanted it to end?
 
“I have n-n-n-oth.. nothing l-left.” His stutter caused him to flinch inward in the grace of such beauty – but the boy could no more stop this than he could stop the day from shifting to night.

his words broke her swiftly, and deirdre shook her head. come home with me, deirdre urged, we will help you find your purpose, but firstly you will regain your strength, deirdre drew nearer, moving to nose him gently. deirdre sought to save him, to give him reason to live. i am deirdre, donnelaith's queen. there you will find food, and shelter, sanctuary. reprieve from his days and days of loneliness!

Surely she was an angel – her beauty would certainly indicate as such, but Pippin was a wary creature who’s trust could not extend past his parents and siblings – and even that had waned in the days of his rogue traveling. His lips pursed, his bright eyes studying her with blank morose. “I have n-n-o pur-p-p-ose,” he painfully uttered, a shiver coursing his spine as hunger sent a gnawing ache through his stomach. Gone were the days of true hunger—his body was but withering away now, awaiting death.

deirdre once more nosed the fallen rabbit toward him, and smiled wanly toward him. eat--and then, if you wish, you may come with me. i will care for you until you are well, and you will find your purpose again. all have a purpose, deirdre coaxed and encouraged, and then looked away from him back to the forest. sulfurous flames drifted in the strange light, and deirdre knew at once her way home would be guided by the whisps.