Dawnlark Plains Tell me what you know about dark nights

@Alessia

Kavik had given her as much space as he could take, not looking for her the night he realized she had disappeared from the territory, but now it had been three days, and he couldn't just sit around anymore and wait for her to come back. What if she was hurt or something? Until now, he hadn't pushed her very much, feeling too guilty about everything to really feel like he had a right to make any demands, but she could at least try and not drive him crazy with worry. He didn't think that was too much to ask. He continuously stewed over these thoughts as he moved through the deep snow, the moon his guiding light as he made his way through the darkness. He had left the creek this morning, tracking Myrren north until losing her scent not that long ago. He decided to continue towards the coast, hoping to find her somewhere. 


Relief spread through him when he caught a fresh scent trail, and he quickly followed it, tracking her to where the plain ran up against a small extension of the mountains. Had it not been for the moon, he may have missed the small cave opening. It was partially blocked by two large rocks, and so the large alpha had to squeeze himself through the small space to get inside, and that was when he heard the soft sounds of crying. He didn't have to advance very far before he found her small form curled up in the corner of the cavern. Kavik padded over to her. Myrren, he said softly. Are you okay? He couldn't think of a reason why she might be crying other than maybe someone had hurt her. He licked whatever he could reach of her face before scanning over her body to make sure nothing obvious was wrong. Did someone hurt you? he asked, anger already boiling in his chest at just the thought.

If there is anything worse than the nausea plaguing her near-constantly, it is all the crying. Each time she feels another swell of emotion in her chest, it is accompanied by a fresh wave of tears. Tonight is no different as she presses herself tightly against one wall of the dark cave, sobbing quietly and wishing she hadn't left the Creek. It's cold and too quiet, and so dark here — and she is so alone.
Shivering, all she can do to keep herself from falling apart entirely is hold tightly to her memories. There is no comfort to be found in her present reality; the only warmth for her is in her past now. She loses herself in thoughts of Rosalie, of Lainie, of the friends she'd made here and there along the way. All dead, she realizes just before Kavik's voice cuts through her thoughts, and her heart suddenly feels leaden. She flinches slightly as she looks up, startled by his sudden appearance, but she makes no move to stop him from licking her face. She swallows hard, overwhelmed by his questions. No, She says after a beat, answering both; no, she is not okay, and no, no one has hurt her. At least, not recently.

He hadn't noticed she was shivering at first, too distracted by the fact that she was crying, but that and the way she looked so dejected curled up against the stone was just too much. With only a little hesitation, he lowered himself to the ground, easily curling his large form around hers. Why are you crying, he asked quietly, nose nudging her cheek softly out of worry. If no one had hurt her, then why the tears? Of course, she had plenty of reason to cry these days, the biggest being she would be a mother soon, and it was clear this was not quite the way she had imagined doing it. Still, he was trying to support her the best he could, which he thought was kind of hard when she disappeared for days. That didn't matter right now, though. All he wanted was for her crying to stop and for her to come back home where she would be safe. As he waited for her to speak, he couldn't help but imagine her lying in this cave crying and by herself all night had he not gone looking for her.

She tenses as he moves closer, sucking in a sharp breath at the feeling of his warmth wrapping around her. She relaxes a little despite herself, shifting to fit herself against him with a slightly breathless whine before she realizes what she's doing. The flush of shame she feels is muted; distraught and hormone-addled as she is, she won't truly realize until later that this is a mistake. All she can focus on right now is Kavik.
I wanted to go to the coast, It spills from her unbidden following his question, words laced with anxiety and sorrow. I wanted to — to visit my sister again — but I can't. Her voice breaks slightly and she falls silent again, fighting another wave of tears. She can't even bring herself to explain that her sister is dead — that it is her resting place she'd hoped to visit. Or at least, as near as she can get.

He felt Myrren tense and wondered if he had been too forward with his affection, but then she relaxed and pressed into him, releasing a small whine as she moved. Kavik listened quietly, attempting to understand as she tried to explain herself, but she left him feeling more confused. He hated to hear the pain in her voice, and he wanted to comfort her, but was unsure how to help. He didn't know she had a sister so close, and he didn't understand why she couldn't see her. Why can't you see your sister? he asked. Was she too tired to make it there? He would escort her there if that was what she needed--ensure she had plenty to eat and safe places to rest. He knew she had taken on this journey by herself, but maybe she would allow him to help her the rest of the way. He hoped she would, because he really didn't think it would be possible to return to the creek without her anyway.

His question irritates her a little even through her haze of grief and hormones; isn't it obvious why she can't? I'm sick all the time, in case you haven't noticed, She says, tone resentful and slightly biting. For a moment she falls silent again, mind occupied with the other half of the reason. She'll never see Lainie again, not truly. At least, she hopes she doesn't. She sighs, head dropping to rest on her paws. When she speaks again, her voice is softer. She's — she's dead anyway; I just wanted to visit her grave.

He winced at her first response, his chest tightening painfully as he looked down in an attempt to hide his expression. Of course he had noticed--how could he not? He had no response for her though; she had every right to be angry with him--everyone did. Her next words abruptly pulled him from his thoughts. I'm sorry, he whispered, risking a touch of his nose to her cheek if allowed. So far, she had accepted any affection he had given, but he wondered how long that would last. He was under no impression that she wanted to be in this situation with him, and he was just thankful she didn't seem to completely hate him. Kavik hated himself enough, and he had already done irreparable damage to his life; it would be so much worse if she decided to make this difficult for him. Plus, he wanted to take care of her; it was his fault she was pregnant in the first place, and he just wanted to do the right thing. I can go with you there if you want, he offered quietly, wanting to do whatever he could to make things easier for her.

She feels unexpectedly guilty when his expression changes and he looks down, and the feeling intensifies when he apologizes. She finds some reassurance in the touch to her cheek, turning her head after a moment to press her face tentatively against him. It's a hesitant touch, more seeking comfort than affection; she's far too raw right now to be picky about the source. No, She murmurs softly to his question after several beats, sighing. I don't think I can make the journey — but thank you. It feels strange to lean against him and speak so softly to him despite her lingering agitation, but the combination of guilt and vulnerability is a strong one. Or perhaps pregnancy is already making her soft.

His guilt intensified as she explained that she was unable to make the journey to her sister's grave. I'm sorry, he said again, knowing it probably didn't mean much but feeling the need to say it anyway. This was all his fault, wasn't it? Do you want to talk about...your sister, he asked uncertainly, half expecting her to become angry with him again. He didn't know how else to let her know he was here to listen, though. Quickly, he added, Or, about anything else. He was afraid his first question might make her feel obligated to talk about something that clearly made her sad. But if he was unable to help her make the journey to her lost family member, maybe he could offer her the comfort of someone just willing to listen.

She sucks in a breath when he asks if she wants to talk about her sister, hesitating at first. She has stifled the feelings for so long, save her brief encounters with Rokig, that she's uncertain what bringing them to the surface will do to her. But she can't quite squash the glimmer of hope that she might feel a little less burdened, a little less miserable if she could just get it off her chest.
Her name was Lainie, She murmurs into his fur after a few moments, pulling away slightly as she continues. We were close, growing up — but she disappeared one day, when we were still children. It was... unlike her. So I followed — my best friend did, too. I... lost her along the way, but I kept looking for Lainie. Eventually I found her scent at the coast. She pauses, swallowing, and her next words are increasingly bitter and heavy with the returned threat of tears. I didn't find her, though. I found... a friend of hers. Grieving. She died maybe a week before I could reach her. She closes her eyes, suddenly feeling the wound as if it were fresh again. A week. How could she come so close and still fail?

He listened quietly as she opened up to him and offered him a peak into her past. She had come here only to find that her sister had died merely one week before--it was tragic, especially considering she had implied that she lost her best friend on the journey here as well. He knew grief well by now--had shared his every waking moment with it since losing the plateau and his mate. Kavik knew the suffocating despair that took up residence in one's heart when a loved one was taken by death. He gently touched his nose to her cheek again, offering a few soft, comforting licks. I'm very sorry, Myrren, he whispered solemnly. He wasn't sure what else to say. Anything he thought of just didn't seem right or like it would be enough, so he eventually just settled for comfort, tightening a little more around her and nuzzling her cheek gently with his muzzle.

She's so unused to the presence of comfort when she needs it, the feeling of Kavik's nose against her cheek causes her to tense again for a moment. It fades quickly, though, replaced by an unfamiliar warmth that brings the tears fully from her eyes. She leans into his nuzzling with a soft, slightly shaky sigh. Thank you, She murmurs after several beats, pulling away to bury her face in his neck fur, this time without any hesitation. Her next words are muffled. I'm sorry I've been so — Resentful. She swallows, finding herself unable to bring the word past her lips though it fits well, and falls silent.

She tensed in response to his affection, and he feared he had been too bold with his comfort--too assuming of her acceptance of his presence. But then she leaned into his nuzzle, offering him thanks he didn't think was necessary. He was going to tell her as much, but then her face was against his neck, and she was apologizing. There is no need for you to apologize, he said softly, lowering his head to embrace her. You have every right to be angry with me. He had failed her in more ways than one, and he wouldn't let her feel guilty about treating him the way he deserved. If anyone had the right to hate him, it was Myrren.

She swallows again when he speaks, throat tightening a little. She's certain she doesn't deserve his embrace or his soft words — but she wants them. I don't want to be angry with you, She confesses quietly into his fur, finally giving voice to what she has already known for some time now. The world is already judging us both. Or at least, their world; the wolves at the Creek, the former members of Blacktail Deer Plateau, and most anyone who might hear their story. They'd both been stupid, by anyone's standards — and now they have only each other.

He couldn't help but be relieved to hear her say that she didn't want to be angry with him. I don't want you to be angry with me either, Kavik admitted quietly, feeling somewhat guilty about saying it once it was out. He was set in his belief that he was definitely at fault for this, but that didn't mean it wasn't painful to see that truth reflected in her eyes when she looked at him or hear it in her words.  He nodded at her second statement. Unfortunately yes, and I am sorry for that, he offered. He wished there was some way he could shelter her from that, but that was impossible; people would make whatever judgments they wanted. He knew the next few months would be tense and uncomfortable for both of them, but maybe if she was able forgive him, things would be a little less difficult.

Guilt lances through her at his words and she falls silent, finding herself at a loss for words. Everything about the situation hurts, and she can't help but feel that isn't fair that he makes her feel so conflicted over it. It should be easy to hate him, easy to wrap her hurt in a thick shell and turn it into anger — but instead, seeing her own hurt mirrored in his expression only increases her misery.
But it hurts to let him close, too, knowing that she is nothing to him but the carrier of his children — and before that, she'd been nothing to him at all. A subordinate; a stranger. She knows it isn't that she wants his love; how could she, when she barely knows him? No — it is that she'd wanted a love, she'd wanted a lover — and instead, she has found herself tethered irreversibly to someone else's, a man who does not even want her. She does not doubt that he would run back to Liri without hesitation if she returned, and she would not blame him. In truth, she hadn't expected him to take responsibility even before she'd known of his mate. Yet here he is, wrapped gently around her and speaking soft words because it is his obligation now — because there is no one else who will, and it is painfully clear that she needs such comfort in her pathetic state. She can't help but wonder if he imagines Liri when he closes his eyes.

She didn't say anything else, and it left him wondering what was going on inside her head. Maybe he shouldn't have admitted his feelings? Maybe he should have kept it to himself and remained the strong partner she needed him to be. He wanted to ask what she was thinking but was afraid to upset her further, so he just remained wrapped around her, allowing her to draw whatever comfort she needed from his presence. He tried to think of something soothing and supportive to say, but he hated anything he came up with, so he said nothing; he didn't think anything he said would make her feel better anyway. How could she? This was a mess, and he hated himself for getting them here.

He hoped they could fall asleep soon--get some kind of peace before they had to return to the creek and continue trekking through their difficult path.