Otter Creek It always runs back but it's never quite the same

She had followed Monarch's scent to the creek before it disappeared, and now she walked along the edge of the water, searching for any hint of where her daughter might have gone from there. She searched for signs of Mesa and Ego, too, hoping that the universe might take pity on her and give her even one of her children back. She was beside herself with worry over what might have happened to them. Her stubborn daughter, she knew had probably wandered off, and Taki hoped she would find her way back soon. She had no idea what kind of dangers lurked out there for a wolf so young. She worried the same about Mesa as she did for Ego: that they were both injured and alone somewhere. She hated it; she wanted them all home safe, and she wouldn't give up looking for them until they were. 

Nightfall was not far off, the temperature seeming to fall with the sun, not that she minded. Cold didn't bother her; even now with her way too thin frame hiding under her thick coat, she didn't feel the cold that much. This was nothing compared to winters up north, and if she hadn't been so consumed with with worry over her missing children, she might actually enjoy the chilly evening air. But all she could think about was tracking, her nose to the ground as she continued her search. Eventually she would give up for the day and return to the hollow, but not before she exhausted every second she could spare.

Empty. She was empty. Like a glass vase of water poured out, and then smashed upon the ground. She could not bear to look at her son's frozen face, his vacant stare, any longer.

And so, she drifted, eyes glazed over, steps leaden, without purpose.

She caught sight of the pale woman with her nose to the ground and watched her for a little while, silently, standing a short distance away. It reminded her so much of the search for Sobek that her heart threatened to burst; only with a couple moments to gather her composure did the pain subside, ebbing slowly away.

Maegi began to pad closer. Once, her gaze might have been shrewd upon this wolf so close to her woods. Now, it was only with a dulled sense of curiosity that she gave the woman a chuff, making no pretense of dominion or ownership or pride.

There was no pride within her, even to fake.

She didn't immediately register the woman's presence, too focused on her task to process the unfamiliar scent that filled her nostrils; it was just one more scent that didn't belong to any of her missing children. But the scent persisted and eventually pulled her from her hyper-focused state. Taki paused, lifting her head to look at the stranger. Normally she, too, would offer the other woman a shrewd gaze and a terse comment about her just standing there, but she didn't much feel like it. Within the borders of Diaspora, she had to wear the mask of a leader and push aside her grief and longing, but out here, she was just too exhausted to muster up anything other than mild irritation. She stared at the stranger for a few silent moments before finally speaking. Have you seen any lost children wandering around here? she decided to ask, hoping she could get something useful out of this encounter. They would be about seven months now. Two boys named Mesa and Ego or a girl named Monarch. She didn't expect to hear that she had seen them, but she had to ask just in case. She could leave no stone unturned.

Even further into the abyss, as she realized she could be of no help. She didn't even bother to shake her head, just continued to stare at the woman with hollow eyes. I have not. I'm sorry, Maegi responded, not without empathy—perhaps with too much. Not necessarily perceivable, but apparent in her drawn face, the dead finality of each word.

Her nostrils flared and caught the scent of Diaspora upon the woman's pelt. You're from Mahler's pack, she remarked, frowning. Diaspora is missing young ones, too? It seems that the earth has put a curse upon us all. No one had been spared. It wasn't just her. They all suffered.

What do the children look like? the Nona asked, hoping to keep the description in mind the next time she found a wayward pup, strayed too far into the meadow.

It was the answer she expected, but it didn't hurt any less to hear it, to have her tiny sliver of hope shattered by the woman's words. She released a heavy sigh, gaze searching the area around her as if the subject would force her missing children to appear. She shook her head and shrugged. 

The mention of Mahler pulled her slightly from her despair, enough to look at the woman with shrewd curiosity. I am Diaspora's Kapitän, she answered first. She wondered how this stranger knew the General, an irrational flash of jealousy swelling in her chest. But she pushed the unreasonable feeling away. Plus, she was distracted by the woman's phrasing; she had used to word too and stated that this curse was upon them all. You have lost children, too? she asked hesitantly, unsure if she should ask the sensitive question. But if so, then she felt for the woman because she knew that soul deep pain. 

Ego has been missing the longest; he is mostly grey with some white and black. yellow eyes. She drew in a deep breath. Mesa is mostly a light grey; his color is closer to mine but darker. and Monarch is my daughter; she hasn't been missing very long. In fact, I scented her here but the trail faded. She looks exactly like me. The descriptions should be enough to catch her attention if she came across any young wolves that may look similar.

The rank she named sounded like a leadership role, and Maegi nodded, keeping that in mind. Was she Mahler's equal, or even a superior? She had meant no offense by the remark; still, she'd walk carefully around this conversation, keeping things close to her chest as need be. Except. . .

You have lost children, too? Oh, where to begin?

I will keep an eye out for them, Maegi promised, tucking those descriptions away. Her shoulders lifted briefly, wearily, in a shrug. For some reason, our meadow has been popular among lost children. 'Lost children' reminded her that the woman's question had gone unanswered, and the emptiness grew tenfold, an icy cloak around her bones.

Some are lost, she replied colorlessly. Two of mine are dead. And that was that.

She dipped her head. Thank you. It helped to know others would be keeping an eye out. She was only one wolf and could only search so much. Getting lost seemed liked something children liked to do from the sound of it. She wished that made her feel like less of a failure, but she wasn't sure anything could do that.

Her face twisted in pain, a rare moment of empathy from the northerner, at least for a stranger. There was a possibility that one of her missing children could actually be dead; it was not something she tried to think much about because anytime the thought lingered in the back of her mind, it felt like someone was ripping her heart from her chest. To actually see one of them with the same lifeless expression she had seen on their father's face—she couldn't bear it. She swallowed the lump of despair and tried to push the thought away, although she feared it would hang around in her mind for a while. That is...awful, she managed to say. She was never very good with these situations even if she knew exactly how the other mother was feeling. The ones that are lost, she continued, eager to offer something in return. If you tell me what they look like, I can keep an eye out for them as well. It was only fair since she had offered to do the same.

At the woman's condolence—and she took it as such, even if the apology was unspoken—she dipped her head in silent acceptance, eyes skimming the ground for a moment before returning to the orange gaze before her. More information was requested, and Maegi's mouth twisted slightly as she thought, carefully sorting through her muddled mind for proper descriptions.

Scylla is a dark gray girl, nearly black, she began, sadness gripping her chest as she thought of her nieces (both of them gone, if not necessarily missing), with some white speckling along her body. Falling Star is a pale boy with black muzzle and paws. She assumed Moonshine's situation had been handled by her mother one way or another and left the girl out, for now.

Another sigh, a brief exhale through flared nostrils. They're both around six moons, now, Maegi remarked, and lamented all the time that had been lost and would never be able to be recaptured. Gone. Just gone.

She listened to the descriptions and names, committing them to memory. Mine are about the same age, she added. So she had no problem imagining what they might look like. She searched for her own children often, so if she came across any juvenile's that fit that description, then she would investigate further. 

How do you know Mahler? she asked next, jealous curiosity making her unable to push the question to the back of her mind. She knew he wandered from the territory just as she did. Had they met and conversed like the two of them were doing now? Or had there been something more? She almost didn't want to know and kind of regretted even asking. She had no right to be jealous; in her mind she knew that, but getting her heart to understand it was far more difficult. But her heart often ignored her when it came to the General.

They're not mine, Maegi said automatically, as if that. . .oh, absolved her for their absence. It didn't. They were still gone under her watch, no matter the blood they did or did not share. She grimaced, and looked away, only returning her gaze to Takiyok when the woman spoke again.

How do you know Mahler? She gave a half-smile in wry remembrance. He split his face open when the earth shook, one day, she said, shaking her head in some reproach. I gave him some healing and sent him on his way. I mostly was just curious because one of your packmates, Kazimir, helped me at the border when I was looking for—

Sobek. Say it. 'My missing son.' Except he was missing now, too, right? Missing forever.

It wouldn't change anything. He was missing before. Despite missing—

damn it—

. . .my missing son, she finished, voice like wind through reeds: barely there, hardly stable.

They don't have to be yours to feel responsible for them, she pointed out. Mahler had proven that; he cared for all of Diaspora's young like they were his even though none were biologically his. From the look on the other woman's face, it was clear that the missing children weighed heavy on her. 

Any irrational jealousy she felt before completely diminished as the image of an injured Mahler flashed into her mind. Well, then it's a good thing you were there to help him. Diaspora owes you for such kindness. She spoke the words into the strange silence that followed the scarred wolf's sudden pause. She waited with concern and interest for whatever the healer had been unable to say at first. And the mention of Kazimir, the one who had died trying to save Mesa, made her heart heavy in her chest. She only hoped her death had not been in vain. 

When she finally spoke again, Taki frowned, reminded again of her own missing sons. And what does he look like? she asked quietly. I can keep an eye out for him as well. She would be searching for her own children anyway, so it was no trouble.

True. In fact, more true than even Maegi knew. The trio were only hers by delusion; in reality, she'd birthed nothing but worms. But she took the sentiment in, as well as the thanks. She dipped her head, reluctant to shake it lest she seem rude by casting off the gratitude. I couldn't just let him go home bleeding all over the place, she reasoned.

And then—and what does he look like?

and what does he look like?

andwhatdoeshelooklike?

He's dead, Maegi said flatly, no malice, no judgment, nothing of anything at all in her voice, save grave finality. He returned, and then he died. Sometimes I wish he was still lost. And by sometimes, she meant all times. Every minute since finding his frozen corpse.

She shrugged. Sorry. I know you were trying to help. I will keep an eye out for your lost little ones, she promised, swallowing.