Lost Creek Hollow Corpse bride
Jalapeño
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#1
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@Indra

It was an almost perfect and idyllic midnight - the forest was quiet, inhabitants were sound asleep, the moon was shining brightly and the stars were winking down to anyone, who was still out there, making wishes, reminiscing about good, old times or trying to predict romantic prospects for the future. Often night-time is, when not only monsters walk the Earth, but also crimes are committed, from petty to big, and some of them are unintended. As was Nunataq's, when she was walking through the Lost creek hollow, her feet, belly and muzzle caked with mud and dirt, and she was dragging something heavy across the forest floor.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. Rest. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. Rest. And so on and on, until she had brought that object that consisted of four feet, backbone, broken skull and strands of rotting fur and flesh attached to it, to the place, where Indra had taken residence alongside other former Bearclaw valley members. Nunataq left her treasure outside the den entrance, slid in and softly nudged her caretaker awake (if her loud arrival and stench of a dead body had not already woken her up).

Come on, come on! I have something to show you! Nunataq's cheerful and excited expression told all there was to know about, why should the adult get up and go outside to see, what she had found, hidden inside a quite recently dug out hole in the ground. One did not find graves by accident and steal from them every day.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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indra slept fitfully since their acceptance to the hollow - often the stirrings of unknown beasts outside would cause her to start and jolt upright, or the occasional kick and rustle of a deeply-dreaming pup alongside her would wrench her from the realm of sleep with the abrupt clarity of an ice bath... but today, perhaps because it had been so long since she had truly succumbed to restful sleep, indra slumbered right through nunataq's ghostly jaunt.

right up until nunataq returned and nudged the russet she-wolf awake. even as drowsy and as ill-afforded as the light was in their den, indra could see the excitement on nunataq's features. at this hour? she blearily swept a heavy-lidded eye with her wrist, fumbling to rise with a mother's resigned duty.

dragging herself reluctantly from the warm pelts she so dearly wished to return to, indra followed nunataq's bobbing form. belatedly it occurred to her the girl was awfully dirty, and ... smelled of something that made her stomach sink. her mind was still slowly uncluttering itself from its heavy sleep - click by click, lock by fumbling lock, indra's consciousness woke -- but she was still nearly half-asleep as she followed obligingly behind nunataq's dirt-rimed form.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
Jalapeño
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#3
There was certain amount of pride and confidence in the way Nunataq carried herself, when she had got Indra's attention and was leading to her finding - a small, mangled body of a coyote that the original Sunspire members would recognize as their deceased packmate Coelho. They had buried her with grace and honor, and had told about this in the pack meeting. Little did they know that, while this had not been the hottest topic of the discussion, it would be a culprit of trouble in the future. Because one particular pack member had not understood a thing that had been said. Not only that, she had no understanding of burial traditions and why graves weren't caches.

She sat down next to her finding, nosed it with her muzzle and looked up at Indra again, waiting patiently for her to acknowledge, how cool the finding was and what a good girl Nunataq had been for digging it up and bringing it to her.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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indra's sleepy consternation gave way to chilling horror once she saw what nunataq had dragged to their den. the very presence of the dead packmate darkened their door, and an implacable sense of bone-curdling dread seized her.

her throat worked silently, bobbing up and down as her tongue moved soundlessly. she tried to speak and nothing but a hoarse gasp came out -- there, in all of her deceased and rotting glory sat the dearly-buried, painfully departed form of coelho's half-eaten (and now, almost fully consumed by grubs and maggots) form.

she could not wrench her eyes from the grisly sight; bone and liquid flesh, dirt-tattered fur, soft, sunken skin that draped in fallow canvas over a collapsed and riven body.

she stepped back in disgust, the horror giving way to fleeting panic: "wh-- nunataq, no!" she cried, flinging her skin-crawling alarm aside to nudge the girl roughly away. she could get sick she could get hurt she could --- suddenly indra was aware of the implacations of desecrating a deceased wolf's remains --they could get kicked out and be homeless and oh, my god, nuna what have you done --

she steeled her revulsion and bent down to nunataq's level - words would mean little here, but the reproachfulness of her gaze would be enough to communicate what nunataq had done was bad -- not just bad, but wrong.

good god, had she eaten any of her?

she shuddered, imbued by a sense of timely urgency: if any of the hollow wolves caught wind of this - oh god, if they saw her -- indra, against all sense of decency, plunged down upon the corpse and shut her teeth around a rotted leg. eyes shut, she started to heave and drag the body away from the den, away from culpability -- hoping against hope that no wolf would come across them before coelho was (respectfully and solemnly so very sorry) interred back into her grave.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
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#5
Indra's reaction was entirely the opposite of, what Nunataq had expected from her. Instead of praise she was met with reproach, resentment and - what was that - a rough treatment as well?! The girl's expression, as she watched her caretaker pick up her hard earned treasure by the leg and begin to drag it away, was full of confusion and 100 unanswered "Why?"s. They had eaten carrion before, hell, that was on her daily menu, when she failed to get something fresh for herself. So, why was that good and this stinky piece of still good and edible bones and skin suddenly bad?

No. She respected and liked Indra good and well, she obeyed her almost always (emphasis on almost), but she was not giving in on this one. After all she had found that body and therefore it belonged to her. Basta! With an air of a very insulted person she padded over to the body, grabbed the part of the backbone, which had once been a part of a fluffy rear, held it tight and tugged it backwards. Her eyes were focused on Indra and the look in them was pretty serious and hard to misinterpret: Nunataq was making claim on these remains.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#6
she had only dragged the terrible secret a few seconds before resistance on the other end nearly caused her to lose her hold: whirling round with the reprehensibly soggy limb still in her mouth, indra came face-to-face with the imp at the end of the string. nunataq.

were there any words that would convey the inimitable disgust indra felt to think nunataq had eaten coelho? oh god -- is this what mothers thought of their sons, rapists and murderers and cannibals alike?

she shifted uncomfortably, trying not to feel the sodden meat that fell in her mouth; ash, dirt, stone -- think of anything but this.

nunataq held her end, defiance and rightful challenge in her dark-masked face. even in the pale light the moon offered, indra saw with a sinking heart the insistence in the apaata's gaze. dear xan and nameless wolf - your daughter is a cannibal.

but xan and reigi couldn't help indra: this was her cross to bear, as the self-appointed mother of this loveless child. indra could not bring herself to yank the dead from nunataq's grasp -- besides, she had a chilling thought if she did that the corpse would limply give way -- and then she would have multiple bits of coelho to carry back to her disturbed grave.

is this really what mothers deal with?

indra dropped the leg suddenly, meeting nunataq's gaze without flinching. she dreaded this moment possibly more than she had dreaded picking up coelho by the mouth -- but in her mind, it was possibly the only way. she hated herself for it - and would hate herself for days to come -- but what was she supposed to do with a child that was insensate and uncaring about words and customs?

she took one step towards nunataq, then another. first step, her posture was authoritative but not hostile.

second step, her posture emanated cold command.

third step, the lingering threat of violence.

her own eyes conveyed clearly her order: give up the carcass, or so god i will hurt you.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
Jalapeño
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#7
Indra - her friend, who had never so much as raised a voice to her other mischief's, had been acting very weird from the get-go. Nunataq could not wrap around her mind, what she had done wrong to be treated like this, because she had meant well. For a person, who rarely showed empathy to others let alone share her food (she ate it on her own and defended fiercely from anyone, who dared to approach her during eating), she had made a big step forward. She had brought food home just like adults used to do. Instead of being happy for it, her caretaker was treating her as if she was a criminal.

When the russet she-wolf turned and met her with aggression and clear threat of violence, Nunataq let the coyote's foot fall to the ground and looked as if someone had slapped her across her face. Why are you acting like such a bitch? - her gaze seemed to say, as she searched Indra's face for the slightest indication that this was not in earnest. Because the mute girl's life was based on simple rules, one of them being that, what was yours, was yours and no one had the right to take it away from you. Her offer of good-will had been turned down rudely and it only made sense for her to reclaim her finding. Everyone was equal before this rule, no exceptions.

So, no wonder that after the brief moment of showing confusion and vulnerability, the girl picked up the metaphorical battle-axe and took a stance to defend her rights. She was almost as tall as Indra now, therefore the older wolf could not intimidate her with size alone. Her eyes were dark with with anger, her fur was bristled along her spine and she growled. Even if she was not going to win this conflict, she was not going to take it lying down either.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#8
for the first time, indra caught a flash of something accusatory in nunataq's gaze: she felt frustrated, defeated by nunataq's comprehensive limitations. she knew the girl was not stupid -- she knew the girl possessed the full faculties to understand right and wrong -- but how could one install a moral compass without speech?

for a moment indra looked as if she would rescind, but the full volley of nunataq's divisive growl washed over indra's ears, and strummed a defensive tune in indra's guarded heart. she released the corpse and futilely, grappled for ways to explain. "this -- this isn't food!" she cried, her voice distinctly distressed as she motioned to the carcass with a slim paw; a worried, tense gesture. "it's me -- you -- a packmate." she pointed to herself and then gesticulated again to the crumpled, rotted heap -- "please, nuna -- tell me you did not eat her?" she brought a paw to her mouth as if to chew, seeking nunataq's gaze in quiet intensity -- and then shook her head slowly a firm "we must not do that shake. the pantomime feeling crude and useless, but she hoped the girl would understand.

elsewise, she would have to resort to a physical show of violence -- and indra's heart quailed at the prospect of causing harm to her family... but she would not -- and could not -- raise a cannibalistic monster.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
Jalapeño
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#9
The deal with dead bodies of your kind is that, unless you have known them personally, they are just a thing to you really. It is a little weird to see that they have a set of lungs, liver, intestines, kidneys, even brains and realize that you look just the same inside, but, unless you are nauseated by the smell or the looks, they do not feel like living, thinking beings. Empty shells. That's all, that's, what Nuna thought and saw and that was, what Indra failed to realize.

Indra's weak attempt to explain stuff was lost to Nunataq. She stared at the she-wolf, as she stumbled through words and gestures, tone laced with hints of desperation and fear, but nothing made sense. What was worse that as a leader she showed inconsistency - one moment angry and aggressive, the other - afraid, making the mute girl unsure and confused. Rather than dealing with this situation in basic terms that she could understand (a simple and calm "Stay here!" would have been enough), her caretaker had given in to panic and was going down the wrong way.

And then came doubts.

A long time ago, on a stormy night Nunataq had happened to wander too far off from Bearclaw valley and ended up spending a night in a dark forest. There, far away from anyone, terrified and unhappy she had realized that she could trust no one in this world, but herself. It had been true then and in a way it was a metaphor for, what was happening now. The same darkness engulfing her, the same helplessness and that single moment, when things became clear. She suddenly saw Indra, for who she truly was. Weak, scared and having no confidence, desperately trying to stay in control and losing that battle.

"Huh..." she said, her silver eyes still scrutinizing Indra's face, and took a step back. The corpse, which was the culprit for their argument, did not matter anymore, because Nunataq had come to a truth that had been there, ever since Lucas had disappeared and everything had gone wrong. She simply had not been able to put it together up until now. Her mute calls for attention and love had fallen on deaf ears and during those weeks, when she had been the most vulnerable, no one had cared. The rock solid trust she had had in her mother-figure had begun to crumble down already then.

And this showdown was that one thing, which destroyed it completely. How could she ask for affection to a person, who was starving for it herself? How could she seek guidance from a person that was already broken inside? You admired your leaders, you did not question their actions, because you saw sense and purpose in them. You did not stand in front of them and feel pity for the miserable state they were in. You did not feel stronger than them.

From this moment onwards Nunataq would not kneel before Indra ever again. Her good opinion once lost was lost forever. She turned away, shook her coat and with one last look over her shoulder disappeared in the darkness of the hollow. She was not exactly happy, but she had freed herself from that weight that had tethered her down to the Earth for a very long time. She had yearned for Heaven and for the first time in her life she truly could spread out her wings and fly.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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a change came over the girl, shadowing her features in some blighted emotion indra could honestly say she cared little for. her ears were askance as she studied that passing storm-cloud -- watching as sudden coldness slipped into nunataq's once-soft gaze.

indra would not have understood the toppling of idols that crashed down in nunataq's mind - and even though the transformation happened before her eyes, she did not see it. instead she saw a girl that stepped back with sudden, cutting detachment. a frown worked its way onto the redleaf woman's face; that passing emotion was as chilling as a soul leaving a body -- yet it remained inexplicable.

she was left with the corpse and any relief she had was vanquished by the turbulent charge that ruled her. she wanted desperately to chase after nunataq, to see what ghoul hounded her -- but the business of returning the body to its grave demanded indra's foremost attention.

she would submit coelho to the earth a second time that night, troubled -- wondering if perhaps the troubleless eternity of the dead was somehow more blissful than living.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.