Emberflame Ridge Name my Price

Open to anyone! Tzila is on the western side of the ridge and is approximately 1 mile from the borders of Elysium.

Karma had at long last, caught up to her. Payback for her bad attitude, sour outlook on life and her misgivings. The only problem was, the shadow mistress did not believe in such a thing. She chalked her circumstances up to just coincidence, or perhaps plain old bad luck.

Her world spun, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, shooting stabs down to her temples. She was too disoriented to think clearly. Thinking hurt. The pain in her head was the least of her worries. As if being clenched by a tightening wrench, slowly, her gut spasmed. Her jaws would clench with the discomfort and she would dry heave repeatedly, but nothing came up. 

Tzila knew she couldn't be pregnant. She hadn't any flings with a male, as appealing as it would sound, sometimes. She knew of the risks and as a solitary wolf, wasn't ready to face the consequences. The only other possible explanation could be that meal she had... It was a day ago. She had been hunting solo along the shores of a lake. And nature had gifted her with a prize. The body of a young elk succumbed to winter starvation or sickness, rotting in the shallow depths, all for her. She wasn't above scavenging, what with her chosen lifestyle and all. She didn't mind the rotting flesh, the stink of the five day old meat. She'd take what she could get...she's had worse before. 

This time she may have overdone it, or misjudged. With a pained groan as another stab knifed at her stomach, Tzila kneeled over on her front legs, chest to the ground. Nauseated, she was unaware of how close she was to the borders of a pack. Not that she was feeling well enough to care. Prying her silver eyes open, her vision unfocused, she could only think of a place to rest to wait out her suffering.

setting this after aure & opalia meet heloise!
logging this as Botany (or Medic) for aure

It seemed that there were only two solutions to conquering one’s estrus: one was to dance along with those natural urges, and the other was to withdraw into solitude. Speaking of which, had Aure not been so thusly enamored, she may have went reclusive as Blodreina had; and as she wound her way from the Cache, threading along the trail back to Elysium, @Opalia yet continued her enactment as guard for the restless, ivory herbalist.

As with pregnancy, however, her more sensible thinkings seemed to have muted themselves more and more as of later. The silver felt no such shame in taking no rest, childing as she were, and her overall stance on the matter was that this foraging would be better done sooner rather than later.

After all, once she delivered, she’d be confined to Drageda’s claim for the next several few months; she might as well further what of her position that she could before all of this happened.

A myriad of spring fancies fluttered about that airsome mind of hers, for she smelt and saw a female, all dark and keeled over — and couldn’t help but notice that they all weren’t as quite far from Elysium as the terrain would like them to be. Even though she emerged enough as a presence to make herself know, she quelled the surge of pointed concern, and held herself back. Females in heat, as she’d come to learn, well... ”Are you well, revia?”

Weakly, she turned her head to the left. But even that slight movement proved regrettable, eliciting another stab of pain. The ground tilted unnaturally, although Tzila knew perfectly well the world couldn't actually be spinning. A short distance away, a flash of white...the source of the voice stood. Another wolf...oh great. Or...thank goodness? Miserably she looked at the other through a squinted silver eye, her expression pained. Irritable. Tzila was too miserable to even notice the telltale hormones of pregnancy. What kind of question was that, she wanted to say? Did she look okay?! 

No no no. That was just the sort of talk that would get her into trouble. Tzila may have acted all tough and arrogant, but when it came to physical pain, she was a wuss. "Oh I'm juust peachy..." She groaned, unable to contain the note of sarcasm in her voice, more so directed at her own foolishness. Feebly, she tried to gather her back legs under her. She made it as far as putting her full weight on them, before a pain made her curl down in a hunched ball of black and mahogany caped fur. "N-no...I'm..." Her jaws clenched, teeth bared in a pained grimace. "...fuck, it's like I'm being stabbed with hot embers..."

Olive was reveling in the foremost stages of her pregnancy and enjoying all of the perks that came along with it. She had always been told by her mother than she would take to motherhood as the birds took the sky — and now carrying her third litter, Olive could finally admit that mother had been right. She had very few of the negative symptoms of the first trimester; her appetite was healthy, she experienced no queasiness and her energy levels were through the roof. It was possible that her body was simply used to the process of creating life and found it easy now, but when Olive thought back to her previous two litters, she could not remember a single bad thing about either of them.

The druid felt a confidence and self-assuredness that encouraged her to leave the confines of the willows and explore, to push the boundaries of what she considered comfortable and familiar. The borders of Elysium were loose as it was, but the difference between in and out was stellar. Even if nothing of particular impact occurred, it was always a splendid time exploring the ever-changing lands just beyond.

She heard the commotion before she saw it, and made a beeline straight towards the interaction. There was Aure, the Drageda wolf whom she immediately recognized with her big ready-to-burst belly, and another nameless woman who appeared to be sick and, unfortunately, in pain. The Seraph’s heart cried out at seeing the soul writhe on the ground, and she flew forward to offer Elysium’s assistance.

“Sweet child! It will do you no good to be out here,” she said in a voice that was at the same time urgent and calm. “Our sanctuary is not far. If we help you… Could you walk there?” She glanced at Aure, hoping the woman would be okay with the druid offering her assistance.

She'd watched the ebony she-wolf keel, and was surging over in an instant; ears curved back at the stuttered, pained words, and she withdrew from a wary sniff. At the sound of another voice, she looked up to see her to-be midwife, Olive, hurrying over with her own sort of worry enscripted upon her heather-gray face.

At the mention of supporting this she-wolf - tenant, now? - to Elysium, Aure met Olive's urgent gaze, and after casting a look back to Opalia, she took up position alongside Tzila's trembling form. "We can figure out what ze matter is, once we arrive. Take our shoulders," the skayona insisted, her scarred face set into something focused, resolved.

Ordinarily, the shadow mistress would have uttered a growl in warning, for those who came to close. She was in too much discomfort to do even that. The hurried steps of the white she wolf spoke volumes. She was concerned. Gosh, did she really look in that bad of shape? 

Apparently the answer was yes. Yet another female, also pregnant, came rushing forward. Her voice was sweet...calming, but her statement clear. Dark ears quivered against her skull, dimly registering bits and pieces of what she had said. Sanctuary. Help you. Weakly, Tzila turned her dark crown to regard the pair of females (who seemed to know each other on some level) through weary eyes. Even through her ailment, there remained fragments of the look of a wolf who was quite used to surviving on their own. Didn't need...no...want the help of others. She was contemplating, clearly. 

Both of these females, so well fed and bursting with life, had to belong to a pack. And, according to the words of the kind female, hers wasn't far. Slowly, she shut her eyes for a long moment, an expression more so of struggle than of pain, racing across her femininely carved muzzle. I can't...I won't. I swore to never again! But what choice did she have really? With that realization hitting her like the slap of ice water to her face, Tzila opened her eyes to look at the pair again, resigned. "Just...try to go slow..." She uttered in a softer voice than usual. As soon as the scarred beauty was beside her, Tzila pressed her flank against her shoulder. A new wave of nausea, stronger than the others, hit her. Inadvertently, with a soft whine, she rested her forehead down into the downy soft fur of her neck. Maybe she was grateful...if only slightly.

Continue at Elysium?

The sickly women did not turn away their assistance, thankfully. As Aure strode forward, so did she, taking the dark word’s other side to press their patient between them like an inside-out oreo. Though they hadn’t discussed the topic, Olive had a hunch that Aure had some healing prowess and would be very useful in diagnosing and treating this poor women. In fact, Olive always thought Aure would do well as a seraph in Elysium, but that was a discussion for another time. 

Since both women already knew where the borders to the sanctuary lay, they were able to walk in a very direct, yet slow and accommodating manner. They accommodated for the woman’s comfort, but also her current weakness. Olive was also conscious of Aure, who was heavily pregnant at this point; she did not want to tire her out. Planning to keep relatively silent for this walk, Olive turned to look at the dark stranger and said simply

“Just one question, then you don’t have to talk anymore — what’s your name?”

Sounds good to me.

Wedged between the two females, Tzila felt secure. But she also felt disgusted. Having to rely on others to help her, when she would rather tough it out herself. She had been stupid...desperate in taking that rotten meat. She had no one to blame but herself and her own misjudgment. And now, it was landing her back square in the heart of a packs territory.

Not bothering to lift her head from the ruff of Aure's neck, the faint flicker of the tips of her ears was the only sign that she had heard the second female. Speaking in a muffled voice laced with a groan, she replied. "Tzila." With their aid, she began the arduous walk back to the borders for treatment.