Bramblepoint one for sorrow

She hadn't made it very far after all; the trauma to her body had been too great.

Her body lay at rest beneath a thorny bush, where in her last hours she had dug a makeshift den. Operating on pure instinct, the black-and-white woman had been digging her own grave— a quiet, safe place to fade away into the afterlife. Hidden from those that might desecrate her earthen vessel. But now, as the leaves died and fell, her uniquely patterned coat was visible through the thorns. Any who might investigate would find her, weeks dead, her body partially decomposed.

Magpie awoke with a start, foam dripping from the corners of her lips, green eyes wild. The hammer of her heartbeat was a welcome comfort, though it did feel like it was working to escape from her chest. But she was alive, despite the fevered nightmares that had plagued her since the miscarriage, and Magpie knew that she was lucky to be so.

That was the clearest thought she had since that night.

She pulled herself from beneath the thorny bramble, assessing herself now that she was lucid. She had grown thinner in the weeks that madness and pure instinct had taken her, but her body was less tender. Her mind still felt a little frayed— that if she were to think too hard about things, she would go back to being the feral thing she had turned into. That wouldn't do, or the nightmare would become reality. And so she decided right then and there to turn it off, turning her attention toward more physical ailments— like hunger.

Lucky for her, the brambles were thick with berries. Magpie would need red meat sooner rather than later, but the wild blackberries would remove some of the edge. Carefully, after licking the foam from her chops, the black-and-white woman pulled a mouthful of them from a branch and began to chew— closing her eyes to savor the taste, and the feeling that she was herself again.

Summer had become distracted in his mission to return to the Sunspire. He had somewhat anticipated that the pack would no longer be there, and yet it had still felt like a blow to learn that it was so. The truth had not waylaid him permanently from his intention to return to the Spire, but the urgency he'd felt since leaving Sedona had been lost.

And so, the Ostrega took to the Wilds now instead, exploring lands he had likely only ever seen with blurry eyes and dulled senses. The naturalist knew that Winter would be soon upon him, and as confident as he was in his strength, he knew that it was foolish to remain on his own through the season. He would have to join a pack, though not even the threat of winter would make him lower his standards enough to throw himself in with whatever one he found first.

Although, the current ache of his stomach did have a fairly decent point.

The black wolf grumbled to himself as he made his way through the woods. The underbrush was thick and full of wicked thorns that mussed his fur in a way that he found quite irritating. He had just paused to clean a patch of fur that he become tangled when a sound touched his ears. He turned with narrowed, suspicious eyes to gaze into the brambles. The wind was not in his favor, and so he moved towards the sound, driven by curiosity and some other feeling he simply could not place.

She swallowed the berries, feeling the cold juices dribble out of the corners of her mouth and running down her chest. It was unladylike, but she didn't care— after the loss of her first litter and her personal near-death experience, Magpie wanted to feel everything. It made her feel alive. She moved to the next bunch, but as she opened her mouth to take another bite, the tell-tale sounds of another coming near made her paused. If the winds weren't in his favor, they were in hers, and she knew it was a male— and a loner, by the distinct lack of other wolves in his scent.

Magpie wasn't sure company was a good idea, but she craved it. Loneliness had been her undoing at every turn, had been the source of every bad decision she had ever made. This could be another, but she didn't see how life could get worse. And so she ignored the pangs of hunger in her belly, and moved dreamlike toward the stranger.

Dark. Handsome. Molten gold eyes.

"Su—" she began, but immediately stopped, the sound strangled in her throat. She was being silly; he was long gone, and probably never thought of her at all. How childish to still be mooning over a wolf she had known only briefly in her youth, especially after all that had happened, all that had changed. Turn it off. Magpie shook her head, and loosed a sheepish laugh. "Sorry. You look like someone I knew, once. I'm..." she paused for a heartbeat, then said, "I'm Maudlin."

Magpie had been a failure, but perhaps Maudlin could be someone greater.

Maudlin could be her fresh start.

Seeing her struck Summer like a lightning bolt to his heart.

He had loved Tytonidae. There was nothing delusional or false about the way he had loved Tytonidae. She had found her way into his heart the moment she'd turned up at the borders of the Sunspire, anxious and uncertain, but too possessed of love for her mother to allow either emotion to hold her back. She'd made him care for her with a glance, and it had grown into friendship, then shortly thereafter into love. Their mateship had been both wonderful and terrible for Summer, for as much as he had loved her, she could not give him the future he needed for himself. They were not meant to be. Love had not been enough.

He had loved Magpie first.

She had come to him in much the same way, and Summer had taken to her for the same reasons. She had been a captive of his pack - scared and alone. He had wanted to protect her the moment he'd met her. But unlike Ty, he had never truly been able to develop the relationship he'd wanted with her. They'd had a few days together at the Sunspire before she'd been sent back to the Creek, and then there had been one night after they were grown and reunited after all that time. Magpie was fleeting, but she was a possibility. She had always been a possibility after all this time, after as little time that he'd had with her. The Ostrega had never forgotten the dark girl with angel's wings and eyes the color of Spring, the perfect match the light of Summer in his.

Summer could not find his voice, but she found hers. He heard his name on her lips, but she faltered. His head tilted slightly as he drank in her face, her frame, everything about her. But when she spoke again, his eyes narrowed in confusion. She called herself Maudlin. And for a brief moment, he considered that maybe he was mistaken. Maybe this wasn't the girl he remembered. This wasn't Magpie.

"No you're not," he objected softly, taking a step towards her. Summer was clueless to the inner workings of her mind. He didn't know that she might be having quite a pivotal moment in her life; that she had decided in that moment to remake herself into something greater. He couldn't possibly have even suspected it.

She was already perfect.

"Magpie?"

She had always loved Summer, though until he spoke in this moment, she hadn't fully realized it. Magpie nearly staggered as the familiarity of his scent washed over her, how those golden eyes still looked at her the same way even after all this time. How he knew her, effortlessly, and could read her heart and ground her with the simplest of words. He looked the same, and yet he had grown into himself— muscular, healthy and strong.

She longed to touch him, to say anything, but all she could manage was a whine— for she was suddenly stricken with doubt, though his eyes consumed her. It was too much to hope that he felt the same way, after what seemed like lifetimes had passed. The sound that escaped her held everything. Her sorrow, her longing, her joy in seeing him. Magpie lifted a trembling paw as if to step forward, but sat down hard when she found she couldn't trust her body to be steady.

"Summer," she finally said, voice a low and pained whisper. "It is you."

Summer watched her with quiet intensity, his own mind reeling. He met his life these days with confidence that bordered on arrogance, and yet standing before Magpie now, he felt just as anxious and uncertain as he had back when he had been a kid bringing her a pine cone as some silly consolation for being held captive by his pack. Outwardly, she seemed just as stricken as he, but his intelligent gaze did not recognize this in a way that would settle his nerves. She didn't know him. He had been nothing to her where she had been so much to him.

Black ears perked when she finally said his name. A ghost of a smile rose to his face, but he was still too shocked to let it free. He nodded instead and swallowed hard. "Yeah, it's me," Summer replied, and somehow finding his voice set the flash of his grin free, "You're here still. I thought you'd gone."

Permission from Stevie for teh booties.

At his words, she moved towards him despite herself— she had longed for him, and so much had gone wrong since they had last seen each other, she couldn't imagine that they'd get any worse. And so Magpie kissed him, running her tongue along the edges of his muzzle and across his cheek. She had made the first move that day so long ago, and she didn't stop to question it now— if he had a mate, if he wanted this or if it were even wise in her condition. The Corvidae had always leaped without looking, to her detriment, and after everything, it seemed that wouldn't change now.

His reaction told her all that she needed to know, and before long they were intertwined. She let him take control, showing him teeth only when her broken body rebelled against the pain, and he would adjust to a more gentle pace until passion took them both again. Her weakened state limited what she could do, but Summer didn't seem to mind; indeed, he seemed to outright enjoy the control he held over her. And Magpie enjoyed that, too— the ability to lose herself in him, to obey what he desired of her.

When they were done, they lay quietly together for a time— until Summer asked that she come with him. To leave the Wilds that had so broken her. When she refused, his voice grew louder and harsher— but she could not, for she could only heal by conquering this place in turn. She thought she would feel something when he turned away coldly— that was certainly what he wanted, to punish her— but Magpie felt nothing. She had no expectations left.

"Thank you, Summer," she said quietly when he had gone.