Lost Creek Hollow the ground remembers

---

she'd yet to find her bearing here, and could not shake the wrongness that she felt. once, pride would have cut deeply at the thought of being at the bottom of the heirachy, but there was no discomfort at her place here. rather, it was the way she contrasted every aspect of the hollow with Morningside, recognized the fact that she was an outsider here, something she'd never in her life been, and mourned still for what had been. what a hypocrite she was; Sunny had agreed when she'd said the Morningside as they both knew it was gone and done, but saying it allowed did not stop her from remembering, from wallowing. 

here were scents of heat and couples that marked the bringing of spring, a season of growth. she thought oft of Sunny and his mate, Lavendar and hers. she seemed the only one aimless and outsider; rather, the only one that had failed quite so spectacularly. but self-pity was swiftly put an end to when she thought of Aviana, Catori, Shale. 

the huntress meandered now through a section of the hollowed devoid of excess tree cover, instead marked by scraggly bushes and thick undergrowth that marked a perfect haven for smaller creatures. her head was low and tail stiff as she searched, intent on adding to some cache.

If there had been any question about whether or not Liffey was pregnant prior to this, there definitely needn't be anymore. She had spent the morning dry heaving into one of the many little creeks that webbed its way across the Hollow, and even now felt her stomach rolling as she restlessly paced across the territory. She'd stepped unexpectedly onto a stick earlier that had snapped in half under her weight and spent the next ten minutes sobbing over how ugly and massive and thoughtless she was before realizing that sticks don't matter and seriously what was wrong with her brain.

But then, oh yeah. She was growing babies in her belly. And for some reason, doing that made both her mind and body rebel against her in every conceivable way.

Ah, life.

Liffey shut her eyes and reminded herself to be grateful that her family would soon be expanding. She loved the kids she already had, and she knew she would love these too. She pictured them - four little Rannoch replicas with brilliant orange eyes - and she smiled. When she opened her eyes and continued on, she almost thought her daydream had come to life. It took her all of five seconds to realize it had not, and that she had just stumbled upon a packmate she didn't recognize.

"Sorry," Liffey said, stepping backwards away from the other woman, a bit embarassed for coming so close without noticing, "I didn't mean to crowd you. Just.. not paying attention to where I'm going, I guess." She smiled awkwardly, but made no move to leave. She wasn't usually a very social creature, but perhaps being pregnant brought this uncharacteristic trait out in her as well as making her an nauseous, emotional idiot.

her head swung up at the sudden prescence of a woman, the pair having stumbling onto the paths of one another. she shook her head in gently rebuff of the woman's apolagy, admitting easily, "I wasn't, either. don't worry about it." the woman - who's scent was intwined thickly with Rannoch's, she noticed easily - backed up quickly, but Dawn had few qualms about her own personal space and remained rooted.

tail swayed softly at her hocks both in greeting and hoping to dissuade the awkwardness evident in the woman's smile, breaking the silence again after only a moment. "I'm Dawn." the woman carried, alongside the scent of Rannoch, a distinct tang that she knew instantly as vomit. it was the same smell that had carried on Mona, and the connection ignited a small spark of worry that whatever sickness it was passed from wolf to wolf.

Liffey was glad when the other female admitted to not being bothered by the intrusion on her solitude. She relaxed a bit, but not completely. She offered a smile as her companion spoke, but meanwhile, her mind raced to try and figure out if this girl was a newcomer or if she'd been one of those packmates that had been around for a while that Liffey had disregarded in her obsession with caring for Rannoch after his injuries. She wanted to ask, but what if she was someone Liffey ought to have known already? Not for the first time, the Frostfur berated herself for being so closed off from her pack.

"What a nice name.. I'm Liffey, Rannoch's mate," she said, introducing herself. And then, seeing no use avoiding it, she asked, "Are you new to the Hollow?"

she commited the name to memory as easily as she commited the latter bit of information. Rannoch had never expicitly mentioned a mate, but it was something she assumed. something about him was fatherly, well suited to a family. loyal. she dipped her head in agreement, words following after a moment. "Rannoch found me a little south of here and offered me a place." pause, and then, "he's a good man." surely she already knew that, but despite all her misgivings about being here, the hurt it brought, she was grateful for the man for offering her what he'd told her to find all those months ago; a fresh start.

On a different day, Liffey might have had the energy to let her completely irrational jealousy get the better of her and tried to casually reiterate that Rannoch belonged to her in response to the he's a good man comment. Fortunately, she was pregnant and her brain didn't remember how to do the things it usually did. So she merely smiled fondly and gave a nod. "I wholeheartedly agree," she replied.

"Are you from around here originally?" Liffey asked, curious about what she was doing in the South that had left her in a position to be scooped up by Rannoch.

she offered a smile in return, dipping her muzzle a moment later in response to the woman's question. "I was born here - in Easthollow, though my family stayed only briefly. I led Morningside until early this winter; we disbanded following a fire." a shorted, clipped version of events which glossed liberally over the deaths, the disappearances, the betrayals. when she was alone, she still thought of Aviana. of the pups. but now, the words slipped out easily and her face remained carefully neutral.

Liffey followed along as the girl spoke of her past. She knew the name Easthollow, having gone with Rannoch there once (or at least, I vaguely remember something like that happening). Morningside was less familiar, but struck a bell somewhere in her memory. She didn't have too long to try and recall it, though, as her attention was taken by the end of her statement - a comment that unexpectedly swept the air from Liffey's lungs entirely.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry to hear that," she said with a sympathetic frown. She wondered if Dawn had lost anyone in that fire, which was an unfortunate thing to enter her very pregnant and very hormonal mind. In an instant, she felt a lump rise in her throat and her eyes had flooded with tears. She swallowed a sob and dipped her muzzle, embarassed at her reaction, but also so utterly devastated by the mere idea of losing her own home in a fire that she could hardly breathe.

"That must... Must've..." she choked out as she tried to regain her composure, "So awful..." Aaaaaaaaaand that was about it for her. She started to cry. So much for holding herself together. "I'm.. s-sorry, Dawn..." she sobbed, crumpling to her haunches and huddling there like a lunatic.

the woman crumpled. she saw it coming a moment after her apology, but could do nothing to help as she simply stood and watched in some detached state of confusion. she moved on uneasy legs to press her muzzle to the woman's shoulder, completely unsure how to proceed. should she offer reassurance? yes, surely. but what? 'it wasn't that awful?' 'we survived?' that would hardly be true, and she settled on, "it's in the past, now." her ears had pressed back a fraction in her uncertainty, the distinct scent of vomit stronger now she she stood so near. she wondered if this was some side effect of her illness, and lapsed into uncomfortable silence while she waited and hoped or this to pass.

It took her a few extra seconds to catch her breath and begin to settle, though the tears kept right on streaming down her cheeks. She hiccuped as she looked up at Dawn after feeling her touch and hearing her words. They did little to console her but for the fact that she supposed this meant Dawn found consolation in them, if she would share them now. In the end, it was Dawn's pain to bear. Liffey was just being driven mad with baby growing.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit of a mess these days," she explained, "Every time I'm pregnant, I turn into this emotional disaster. I don't even know why I'm crying half the time." She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath, then let it go slowly. She was alright again. "I am sorry, though, for your loss," she added as she opened her eyes and looked at Dawn again. There was probably no salvaging this first impression, but Liffey had to try.

oh, she thought, and remembered vividly Khoe hurling her guts out. it was the season, she supposed, though the thought filled her with a kind of hollowness. she supposed this was when congratulations were given, though a part of her wilted at the thought, and so she merely said aloud, "oh." the woman appeared to steady herself, and then uttered more apologies. she merely nodded, accepting the words silently.

"I should go, I think-" she offered, struggling a moment to find the right words. "I wouldn't want whatever's on the end of this trail to vanish before I get to it." she motioned to something unseen on the forst floor with a small curve of her muzzle. the marmot's trail wasn't especially fresh, and this early in the season she'd expect it to be back in its den shortly, but she didn't mention this. "it was good meeting you, Liffey." with that, and a dip of her head, Dawn moved off the follow the trail a good distance before she'd continue her search.

Her efforts seemed to be wasted. Dawn accepted her explanations and presumably her apology, but was quick to take her leave then. "Yeah, you too," Liffey said before the girl left, but the gracious smile that had been on her face disappeared once her companion's back was turned.

She felt terrible. Tears sprang to her eyes again as she too turned away. This was why she didn't socialize. This was why she kept herself hidden away with her children and Rannoch most days. She made a fool of herself whenever she spoke to others and walked away from every interaction feeling horrible about herself. It just wasn't worth it.

Good thing she was pregnant. It did at least give her an excuse for why she spent so much time crying.