Cerulean Cape i.xiii : who was dragged down by the stone
Private  December 07, 2018, 01:59 PM
Lone Wolves

{dogs}{part one, episode thirteen}

The comforting shape of Wheeling Gull Isle rose on the horizon, nestled in the waves. Southeast from here, following the mountains, they'd make it to Blackfeather Woods in just a few days. She knew the way, now. But there were other things to consider.

She wasn't going to lead a Redhawk to her home. That much was certain. But how far had they traveled, within the tunnel? The forest in which they'd emerged was not familiar to her, nor did it seem like any of the glades she'd passed through to get here. Was it possible that they had crossed under the mountains entirely? If so, that merited a trip on that side.

Which kept the man away from Blackfeather Woods. . .which was, ultimately, best.

She split off from her traveling companion for a little while, hoping to gain some peace in solitude. He knew she wasn't going anywhere; he would catch her up quickly, anyway. No, she really just wanted to look at the island and think about all she had lost. And oh, how she had lost.

set for 12/05 -- @Titmouse
December 07, 2018, 10:37 PM
He'd continued north until the smell of the sea dwarfed everything else, and the sight of the distant island caught in his eye like a speck of dust; he watched the dark patch for a few moments, thinking about his time there. Titmouse could remember it. It was clear in some patches, hazy in others, but ultimately he felt --- well, he wasn't sure. Something close to satisfaction, to calm, which was a nice change of pace.

He could keep going. Run to the island, make his life there if he couldn't find the girl again — Titmouse only felt "at home" when she was near, and that didn't have to be the forest. He was staring out to sea when he noticed a sound and turned an ear, then his head, to observe a patch of snow drifting --- no, wait,

Maegi? He sighed, his tone filled with hard-to-hear surprise, but he lurched towards the canid shape and called out as loud as he could, M'gee?!
December 08, 2018, 12:41 AM
Lone Wolves

At first, she thought she was imagining things. That she was back home, and Mou was calling for her. She turned and blinked, rapidly, at the pale shape approaching her. No, this was a dream. This was--

Mou, she managed to choke out, lunging forward just the same and stopping just short of barreling into him. Breathing hard, she looked at him, trying to ascertain what was wrong. What was wrong? Why was he all the way out here? Had no one told him of her plans to visit Undersea?

And then all that had befallen her over past days crashed over her like a wave. The grief for Mou that stemmed from her lie but felt too real. The damage, physical and mental, inflicted upon her by the Redhawks. Her eyes welled with tears, and she tried hard to hold them back, but lost control when she realized what this would mean.

Mou, she said again, half-sobbing now. She shook her head, over and over. You can't be out here. You have to go somewhere else. Somewhere safe. The. . . Maegi sucked in a breath. I told the Redhawks you were dead. So they would stop looking for you. But they don't believe you. Mou, you have to hide out somewhere. Somewhere they won't look.

Her face contorted in agony. You can't go back to Blackfeather Woods. They'll find you and kill you.
December 09, 2018, 10:11 PM
Something had happened. She was bleeding across her face, and as he ran to her he engulfed her in a canine hug with his tall, pale body sickle-shaped around her's, except she didn't stop; she was saying things so quickly and as the emotion rose in her voice he felt a constriction to his chest. Whatever had happened was still fresh for her, still raw. And Titmouse was just glad to have her back with him - but then he started to pay attention to what she was saying and it was like the world spun to a halt beneath him. Something akin to vertigo swept through his entire body and he thought he was going to be sick —

She'd gone to the plateau. Beneath the smell of the blood and the salt, he couldn't mistake the familiar scent of the Redhawks; and her words went beyond confirming them. They condemned him. She was sending him away — No,

No, no, no M'gee, no, you can't — he slurred hurriedly, but she cut him off. You can't go back to Blackfeather Woods, no

Buh --- can'd you come wid me? They were probably hot on her heels, which meant they were both in trouble. Titmouse was stricken by the seriousness of the situation, but he knew she was right. Returning to the woods would only endanger Relmyna and the others, and he owed them more than that. The woods were a holy place — plus, he couldn't see any future there without Maegi.
December 10, 2018, 11:15 PM
Lone Wolves

She shook her head again, slowly at first, and then quicker as he spoke. Mou, I can't, she whispered, her eyes wide and staring. I'm with a Redhawk right now. It's. . .the girl's brother. The red girl that you took. He just wants to find her. He doesn't want to hurt me. But he'll hurt you. Maegi buried her face into the plush fur of his neck, trembling. They all want to hurt you.

She tried to breathe slowly, calm herself down. It took a couple of moments to compose herself before she could continue. They were going to kill me, Maegi continued, squeezing her eyes shut as she saw the behemoth woman leaping at her, jaws aimed to take her life. They didn't believe me. That you were dead. They're going to follow me. And they might not kill me, but they'll kill you.

With a ragged sigh, she half-collapsed against him, constantly making sure that his scrawny frame could hold her weight, feather-light as it was. I might be able to join you, eventually, she murmured. Or you might be able to come back to Blackfeather. But not now, Mou. It's too dangerous. Even the prospect of him crossing the flatlands several moons from now seemed dicey. They hated him with a vengeance she knew all too well.

They'd rip him apart. She couldn't bear it.
December 12, 2018, 02:53 PM
Titmouse had been through more than his fair share of injuries (on a physical level certainly, a mental one, and now —); he felt the seizing of his chest as his wounded heart cleaved in half, but he couldn't say anything to fix this. If she was leading a Redhawk somewhere then he'd have to go - and soon - lest he invite their wrath. This would all be for nothing if he died, or if Maegi was blamed for anything else. Titmouse knew she was right but it didn't stop the numb feeling from spreading through him as he tried to close off his heart to the pain of her decision. He couldn't go back to Blackfeather - fine.

But where was she going? When would he see her again? Was she safe..? (Would either of them be safe again?).

He didn't care where he was, as long as she was with him.

Titmouse was silent for a long few moments while Maegi's silence closed in around the two of them; he heard the crashing of the waves, felt the dull rumble of the sea as it pounded at the shore, and looked out at the abyssal blue as if to scour the horizon for a portent. He'd go and fine Seelie, then. Hide out with her on the island until things calmed on the mainland.

There wasn't time to deliberate or argue, so he looked sharply to Maegi and uttered sharply, 'Den go, which sounded more accusatory than he meant it to, but he was hurting. As he turned from her he paused and added grimly, Be save M'gee.
December 12, 2018, 03:11 PM
Lone Wolves

Her heart, too, was shattering. No, not shattering--just crushed, hard, as if someone had torn open her chest with their teeth and taken the beating flesh between their jaws. Squeezing, squeezing. It was impossible to breathe, and she gasped for air, rooted to the spot where she stood. The sharpness of his voice was the worst pain she had ever felt--and she had felt much pain.

You too, Mou, Maegi whispered, looking stricken as she stared at him. I love you. Go, now.

She couldn't gaze his way anymore. She would go with him, if she did. Maegi turned away with paws of lead, ribs heaving with stifled sobs. Her ears swiveled backwards, listening for the sound of his paws traveling on the sand--away, not toward.

Once she was satisfied that he was going the right direction, she took off in a sprint, expending the last of her energy to bring herself to a quiet part of the river. She splashed into the chill, submerging herself, washing his scent from his pelt. Over and over did she dunk herself, the tears indistinguishable from the water, the sound of her mourning muffled under the surface.

She eventually collapsed on the bank, shivering, curled into a tight, pale ball. Feeling like the worm she was.