Emberwood and i don't think that i hate me, but

@Thorn <3 sorry it's short, i suck

By the time she crosses the borders, her vision is blurred by hot tears and her head is spinning. She makes it several yards past the strongest scent markers before she gives up and allows herself to half-collapse against a tree, immediately vomiting into the snow. In her hysteria, the dark stranger somewhere ahead of her goes entirely unnoticed. She's too distracted, first by her tears and now by the violent retching that grips her body. She can't help but feel disgusting even through the pain and relative chaos of vomiting; she probably looks disgusting, all tear-soaked and gagging up yellow bile. Good luck, Thorn.

omg ;-;

a retch, vile and heaving, caused thorn to pause and turn around. his yellow gaze flitted from tree to tree, finding at last a blackened shape hunched over against a dark bough.

he watched as she hurled again, her face contorted in a gritted pain -- but it was the blackened mat of her fur that caused the beast alarm, for it appeared as if she had been crying.

he made his way cautiously towards her -- by scent alone he identified her as one of the wolves belonging to the creek. "you okay?" thorn ventured, poking his head around the tree to inspect the clenched form beneath.

It is his voice that calls her attention away from her own misery, startling her, and her nausea seems to flee when confronted with the immense shame following her discovery. She swipes a foreleg across her mouth instinctively before she glances up, ears pinning to her skull as she backs away slightly from the vomit. I — no, She starts as if she might snap at him, but the fire leaves her before she can even get a word out, and the single no she manages is a soft, broken sound. She glances over him briefly, wariness clear in her gaze; she's just too tired for anger right now.

thorn nearly flinched as he saw the reaction his voice caused her -- taken by surprise, she scuttled back -- and thorn found his ears fall to his skull as he watched her.

she looked wretched -- positively wretched -- and he felt a faint stirring of empathy, even pity, for the female. yet these feelings never cured a sick wolf, and he was quick to push them aside with a business-like frown. "what is wrong? did you eat something?" he sniffed the air carefully, detecting nothing but overwhelming bile in the yellow heap that sunk through the snow.

"do you want me to call for someone?" she was not so far from the creek -- and need be, thorn was willing to provide her a shoulder if she needed help returning home.

She shakes her head to both of his questions, throat suddenly too tight to speak. His sudden arrival has forced her into a state of pseudo-calm, a fragile bandaid over her wounds, but she still feels the heaviness of her sorrow. It takes her a moment to force herself to speak. No, I — I'm pregnant, She admits, feeling some kind of strange relief at the confession. He is a stranger she never has to see again, as far as she's concerned; likely the safest wolf to hear such a confession.

thorn's concern transcended to genuine warmth to hear the news -- news he perceived must have surely had this she-wolf equally as elated. his tail briefly stirred, and the brute lowered his muzzle in a gentle cant of acknowledgement. "congratulations,"

he wanted to think that was the end of it -- that she was simply here alone in the woods, heaving her stomach out through her throat simply because she was pregnant -- but the dark streaks under each eyes told him perhaps there was some other reason she sought solitude from the creek wolves.

and then a horrifying thought occurred to him -- if she was unhappy because of her pregnancy, and he had oafishly congratulated it - what if the coupling was not consentual, or she not in a position to rear them? his stomach sank, and he looked the small blackbird over with newfound scrutiny. "is everything alright?" by his tone it was clear it was not the same question as before -- this time, he was really asking after her life's affairs -- and not just whether she was physically okay.

She can't help the grimace that tugs briefly at her features when he offers her congratulations, tears welling in her eyes again. Her gaze drops, eyes closing against the tears threatening to fall as he voices his next question. Another brief silence follows as she decides how to answer.
Not really, She murmurs finally, tone dripping with bitterness. Her eyes open slowly with her next words, though her gaze remains trained on the ground. I — it was a mistake. The father is — he was mated to another woman. It feels so strange to call him the father of her children; but that's what he is, and the thought eats her alive after watching him embrace Liri. She'd had that kind of love, once, and some part of her had hoped to find it again. But she never will, now.

thorn was taken aback by the bitterness that laced the blackbird’s words. glancing around them with his ears in constant rotation, he wondered if soon they would be intercepted by wolves of her pack. 

his expression darkened as she explained her peril: a ripple of something akin to distressed anger bubbled within his chest. did - were you taken without choice? his voice came as a calm growl, his gaze already sliding to the distant creek as if expecting her attacker to materialize at any moment.

Her chest tightens a little at his unexpected response, ears warming a little as she considers the growling tone to his question. Truly, there is no reason for him to care at all, and she is more aware of this than anyone else; even kind-hearted Ruenna had left her to deal with her drama at the Creek alone. She can't help but feel a little grateful for the concern, needing any kindness she can find right now.
Though, his assumption does bring her some guilt. She can only imagine how much more upset she would be if Kavik had forced himself on her; truth be told, she might have killed both him and the pups within her. No, She answers immediately, shaking her head a little. I just — my heat was... overwhelming — and I didn't know about her. His mate. Liri. And she's back now and I — She stops herself, swallowing hard as the confession threatens to spiral out of control. Instead of spilling more, she finishes a little wryly, voice quiet: I've made a rather large mess.

the dark dove quickly rebukes thorn’s rising fears, and so the eyjolfur settles — his gaze pulling across her features to measure her sincerity. it was not uncommon, he had learned, for women to protect the corrupted hearts of their men — but he detected no such disingenuity in alessia.

he could tell, too, by the dangerous spill of her words that she was near overflow. wanting to feel less imposing, the brute slid to his stomach in the snow and rested his dark muzzle on his paws. you have made no such mess, thorn pointed out thickly, quick to place the flaw in her male counterpart. you did not know. the blame is his own. is he at least standing by you? god helped the man that whelped a litter and then left that litter (and woman) to die — in thorn’s eyes there was perhaps no greater dishonor, no greater scarlet curse of selfishness.

he could at least rest knowing for now alessia had the pack at her backside -- after some conversation where thorn was dubious that the woman was really mentally okay, the pair made back for the creek. thorn was willing -- happy even -- to walk her home -- but as her form disappeared into packlands, he hoped her future would be bright and not filled with the sadness he had detected in her somber eyes.