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Ooc — Starrlight
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November 20, 2020, 01:22 AM
(This post was last modified: November 20, 2020, 09:20 PM by Fennec.)
It was full night by the time Fennec crossed Bronco's trail, a fading scent that crossed vaguely between the glen and the caldera.
First reaction? Fury. How the fuck did he have the nerve to come following her here? Couldn't he have given her a few more days at the very least?! It didn't matter if he was there to see her or not, he should have known better. She'd left him the Glen, the least he could do was leave her the fucking Caldera. If she was taking the "asshole", honestly, she'd given him the better end of the bargain.
Second? A whole lot harder to tell. Temptation to follow, then disgust at that temptation, then guilt for the disgust, then anger over the guilt, then even MORE anger because anger was just easy right now. It rolled off of her everywhere she went, coming off in harsher snark, less remorse, and the self-destructive need to drive harder, harder, until she could make someone lash back. She wanted to fight.
It was the same thing that had occurred with Niamh, only this time it was worse because she didn't know who she was even angry at. It was tempting to think Bronco, but that wasn't true. It was tempting to think herself, but that wasn't true either. The truth was, for the first time in a long time (potentially the first time period), she'd opened herself up. And when Bronco, however unintentionally, had shoved her offering to the dirt just as surely as his mother had a few months before, the teeth had sank into something she wasn't used to even knowing was present. Even Penn hadn't done that to her, because by the time he'd gotten around to it, she'd already locked the lid down tight. Bronco had managed to gut her completely before she had even realized the lid had snuck open.
She could keep avoiding him until one day they could pretend none of it had happened, but obviously, that wasn't going to work. His family was her family, his pack her pack, and like it or not, she'd followed him there. Stupidly she'd thought it meant freedom, but in reality, she'd just been following the security he offered. Security that would never be unconditional, because just like Penn, everyone had a breaking point. This was probably his.
She needed to be gone for a while. Not the Caldera... not the Moonspear... not Bramblepoint... gone. Fuck security, fuck family, and fuck familiarity. She meant to be a witch, then what was she waiting for? She meant to live alone? She didn't even know if she could. She had a trade now and wasn't the helpless little girl who had gotten lost before. Maybe she'd be back... or maybe she'd find some reason not to return at all.
All she took was her badger and the pouch. She left her stores, her gardens, and no sign to indicate where she'd gone outside of a trail she hoped faded before anyone thought to follow. She ran a straight line northwest, stretched out to a full run in the open space of the meadow, and didn't slow one bit as the sound of a river cut through late-night chorus. Without missing a beat she pushed off of the embankment and sailed into a leap that sent her crashing straight into the river.
This time it was her turn to disappear.
First reaction? Fury. How the fuck did he have the nerve to come following her here? Couldn't he have given her a few more days at the very least?! It didn't matter if he was there to see her or not, he should have known better. She'd left him the Glen, the least he could do was leave her the fucking Caldera. If she was taking the "asshole", honestly, she'd given him the better end of the bargain.
Second? A whole lot harder to tell. Temptation to follow, then disgust at that temptation, then guilt for the disgust, then anger over the guilt, then even MORE anger because anger was just easy right now. It rolled off of her everywhere she went, coming off in harsher snark, less remorse, and the self-destructive need to drive harder, harder, until she could make someone lash back. She wanted to fight.
It was the same thing that had occurred with Niamh, only this time it was worse because she didn't know who she was even angry at. It was tempting to think Bronco, but that wasn't true. It was tempting to think herself, but that wasn't true either. The truth was, for the first time in a long time (potentially the first time period), she'd opened herself up. And when Bronco, however unintentionally, had shoved her offering to the dirt just as surely as his mother had a few months before, the teeth had sank into something she wasn't used to even knowing was present. Even Penn hadn't done that to her, because by the time he'd gotten around to it, she'd already locked the lid down tight. Bronco had managed to gut her completely before she had even realized the lid had snuck open.
She could keep avoiding him until one day they could pretend none of it had happened, but obviously, that wasn't going to work. His family was her family, his pack her pack, and like it or not, she'd followed him there. Stupidly she'd thought it meant freedom, but in reality, she'd just been following the security he offered. Security that would never be unconditional, because just like Penn, everyone had a breaking point. This was probably his.
She needed to be gone for a while. Not the Caldera... not the Moonspear... not Bramblepoint... gone. Fuck security, fuck family, and fuck familiarity. She meant to be a witch, then what was she waiting for? She meant to live alone? She didn't even know if she could. She had a trade now and wasn't the helpless little girl who had gotten lost before. Maybe she'd be back... or maybe she'd find some reason not to return at all.
All she took was her badger and the pouch. She left her stores, her gardens, and no sign to indicate where she'd gone outside of a trail she hoped faded before anyone thought to follow. She ran a straight line northwest, stretched out to a full run in the open space of the meadow, and didn't slow one bit as the sound of a river cut through late-night chorus. Without missing a beat she pushed off of the embankment and sailed into a leap that sent her crashing straight into the river.
This time it was her turn to disappear.
WC: 571
Fenn is blind, and as she's older, will take all of her character insight from tone. If you are ever uncomfortable with an assumption she makes, please let me know!
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