Lost Creek Hollow only suffering can teach
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#1
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for @Indra. backdated to the 18th

he had heard laurel's call, and somehow its imperious, demanding nature warned merrick of what was to come. yet he did not know for certain. and still he had not gone to them, to where his mother surely was; the boy had trotted away under the pretense of a patrol, seeking the outermost reaches of the hollow where few went and where he could be alone.
heart thudded in his chest; the boy's ears fell back in the dappled shade, and for a long moment, merrick grappled with a spate of red-hot anger. it had no place no place no place — the young wolf steadied his breathing and pressed on.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#2
indra had dragged her feet every step of the way to merrick -- and merrick had done well to make the distance between them significant. in some ways indra was relieved to have to seek him. it gave her a little more time to make her explanation more believable, and less shitty.

but she was being shitty, wasn't she? going off to look for children who may not even be alive, while forgetting the surviving ones? god -- she sucked, she sucked, she sucked. she was doing to merrick exactly what her stupid mother had done to her, what her witless father had done to her, and here she was, too weak and too spineless to break the cycle.

when she came across merrick buried in the outermost fringes of the territory, she hated herself. a wash of acrid loathing overcame her, and she knew this would not be easy.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
1,610 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#3
it seemed both an eternity and such a short time before his mother came upon him. at the sound of her footfalls, merrick turned to regard the woman who had given him life with the cool copperburn of his eyes. she seemed at once so very small; merrick realized how he had grown, and somehow still imposing.
the boy was silent for a long ticking of moments, before lifting his chin, gaze still fixed upon her. "you're leaving." 
it was a statement devoid of accusation, merely observation. but beneath merrick's cold demeanour there thrummed hurt; how could indra leave? tadec had gone away, and now she too was abandoning him.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#4
indra could not hold the cool burn of merrick's gaze for long -- for she recognized in the depths of his sunburnt brown eyes the very same hurt she had seen once in laurel's eyes, when their mother had left them. oh, it stung -- she drew a shaky breath, trying to compile the thousand reasons why she had to go .. but what good would it do for the hurt, except possibly make the wound worse?

"i have to," her voice was pained, but she sought the expressive gaze of her son once more. "we have to find them." bending down so that she was level with her proud son, indra sighed and hoped that buried somewhere under that layer of hurt, there was love for his family that had fallen apart. "i promise, i will be back. but i need you to take care of nunataq - take care of each other."
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
1,610 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#5
"nunataq can take care of herself. i can take care of myself." he was being cruel; his montone remained the same, even as he saw the shadow of anguish pass across indra's face. merrick straightened; in this way, he was almost as tall as her, and would certainly overtake her before another handful of months had passed, if not by a scant few inches. "everyone leaves. papa. you. maybe nunataq will also."
and it was only in that moment that the boy realized he was only frightened of losing his sister. indra he loved, but indra was betraying him now, and merrick's heart had hardened.
i will pry his bony fingers free
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#6
indra had expected tantrums, even outrage -- and instead, merrick presented her with resigned indifference.

her countenance fractured, a sliver of pain deepening in her mahogany eyes. how could he not care? did he not love her the way she loved him - was he not her son, and she the wretched, lucky mother that had somehow created him?

her beautiful, cruel, beloved boy straightened so he stood tall if not taller than her. somehow the motion seemed as if he unshouldering himself from the fretting burden of his silly, stupid mother.

her throat constricted and a sting of tears refusing to be shed  hit her. she drew a shaky breath, steeling herself with a hopeless sorrow. she had spent her entire life being callously indoctrinated to the mantra that everyone eventually abandoned her -- and now the life (and the hurt) she had never wanted her son to behold were being breathlessly stolen from her own pained experiences and transposed mercilessly to her son.

"yes, merrick. everyone leaves." she retorted, her temper lost by the hurtful apathy of merrick's response. fearing her anger would spill over into an action she would spend the rest of her life regretting, indra quickly spun away.
now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turning gold,
and like the sky, my soul is also turning.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
1,610 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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Master Missionary
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#7
what did she care? why did pain flash in her eyes, as if she was the one who deserved to feel it? indra was the one leaving. indra was the one abandoning him. merrick would never have done what she did to him now. why wasn't she more loyal to him than she was to laurel? without littermates, perhaps the boy would never understand.
his mother's low words came, and merrick heard there the play of her emotions. but still he was motionless, and merely watched as the rich-red hue of her features disappeared into the coldly dappling light of the forest.
only when indra had gone from view did merrick relax, bristle, his bottom lip quivering with a boyish sorrow. but he refused to cry, and so whirled and took himself deeper into the weald, to be alone for as long as he chose.