Noctisardor Bypass Soft blue skies, helium balloons float up, away
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All Welcome 
Vague assumptions about Wylla and Phaedra's trip, they left August 19th and would take a little over 2 weeks round trip!

Spending time at the seaside invigorated Wylla, but eventually, they had to return home. She came with more context than she left with, one piece of which had dropped a cold weight in her belly that had yet to leave. But Wylla chose not to think about that, instead savouring the time with her daughter before Rivenwood's gateway columns loomed into sight.

Phaedra and Wylla likely had the same idea upon returning home, but the latter peeled away from the former upon entering the territory. The second she crossed the threshold, her mood began to sour. There was simply no such thing as a feeling of home for Wylla; she had never known a welcoming home in her life besides Keokuk Glade, for each and every one was promptly poisoned.

She returned for her daughter, and Phaedra alone. Never again would Wylla walk away from her children. They were the only wolves in the world that she had and could count on. Wylla knew now that she was destined to die alone, as she had always lived alone, unable to rely on anyone but for her blood. Even Tiercel, who despised her so, but had not hurt her the way others had.

She shoved the thoughts away, attempting some kind of serene expression as she padded silently into the trees in search of a warm spot to lie down and rest.
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heda was stained with mud and exhausted. today's expedition at silverstream had perhaps influenced the girl to understand she was not made for fishing. 
but she did not yet have the stamina, or patience, to trail hares for a half-mile. the girl chose to focus only upon movement, and so birds caught her eyes most of all.
she also chose not to think of her mother or worripa. but the loss of praimfaya had been soothed by her young age, sequoia's milk, and the presence of sisters. nothing lifted her brother's disappearance from becoming the first awareness that heda could be abandoned.
wylla's scent distracted her. she recognized it from memory but had not seen it fresh in quite some time. and so she left off her wandering to approach, thankful for another purpose that would cut both her wayward relatives from mind.
the silver woman with one eye.
"you're back."
it was a simple statement of observation. the girl frowned.
"i'm heda now."
the burnished gaze dared the returned woman, suddenly, to say something about it.
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Wylla barely had time to settle herself in a bed of tall grass and wilting flowers before she was accosted. Well, okay, it's not like Skaigona was unwelcome, but weariness settled heavy on Wylla's brow and bunched bags beneath her eyes. The last thing she wanted was a nosy kid poking around in her business. Better than running immediately into Mahler or Sequoia, she supposed.

Hullo, Skaigona, she said, regretting the flat delivery and lack of enthusiasm. Wylla had no spoons for this, but that was not Skaigona's fault. The girl deserved a warmer reception, especially because she was supposed to be family. Wylla's quick inspection found nothing whatsoever about Skaigona that called back to Ingram, but she seemed to recall Worripa looking much more like her missing brother ...

Skaigona's announcement was met with a slow blink. Thank god Wylla never learned what those Drageda curs had called their leader. She didn't much like the way Skaigona looked at her. It reminded her of those haughty cliffside dogs. But she was past the point of leering at a child, so she remained unreadable.

Got a promotion, didja? she asked, assuming it was another one of Mahler's weird, guttural words for his ranks. She hadn't bothered to learn most of them. Congrats. What're you gonna do with it?
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heda's gaze hardened. "no, i —"
wylla looked tired. the last time, they'd played with butterflies and shouted about butt doctors. 
heda felt as though that time had been so long ago. "i mean, my name is heda now. not skaigona." the girl cocked her head and settled gingerly onto her pale haunches, examining wylla's facial details with the softer, more interested rudeness of children, untempered by social mores. "how did that happen?"
heda did not know what a promotion was. rather than question, she preferred to ignore the fact that she was ignorant. it was too embarassing to admit, least of all to such an intriguing person.
presently she crouched forward as well, nibbling on a bit of dried mud caught between two toes.
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Okay, said Wylla hesitantly. Was it Sequoia's choice to rename Praimfaya's daughter, or the girl's? Surely it had nothing to do with Mahler, who likely respected Praimfaya too much to even think of changing their names, despite how unusual they were. If Wylla had known such children in her girlhood, she would have bullied them relentlessly. Skaigona was a weird name anyway, she cautiously added, hedging a bet on Skaigona not being fond of her old name, either, or she would still be using it.

She had to swallow a sigh when Skaigona — Heda, now, it seemed — settled on small haunches. Couldn't the Sämling see that Wylla was not in the mood to entertain her now? Much less discuss the broken features of her face. Wylla openly grimaced at the question.

I traded it to a witch for immortality, she lied, peering at her toes with feigned interest in the dirt collected under her nails. It had nothing on the mud that coated Heda. She almost suggested that the kid should go take a bath, but then she would have to accompany her, and Wylla wasn't sure she could stand up without falling over from exhaustion. The witch tricked me, though, and cursed my life instead.

That bit wasn't so much a lie. Wylla suspected that Caiaphas had indeed cursed her.
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heda's face was unflappable and far too solemn. "my mom gave it to me. but she isn't here now. she never came home." she didn't cry as she said it. heda felt she had squandered enough tears. the premature hurt of pragmatism had become her lot, and quickly.
the girl's eyes shifted as wylla spoke of witches and immortality. a trade. the woman's exhausted features seemed to change in the retelling. heda tasted dirt in her mouth.
"how do you get rid of a curse?"
she felt it was unfair that the witch had tricked wylla. people should be honest. they should tell you what they meant to do. even if it was hard.
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So Praimfaya was still missing. This didn't surprise Wylla, who privately thought the woman had done as she had to Sagtannet and simply left to follow her own selfish desires. It was a bit different to do that when you had young children, though. Wylla was no stranger to walking away, but the abandonment of cubs still reliant on milk was an unforgiveable a crime as they came, and she felt fire stir in her belly.

She was a fool to leave you, Wylla grated firmly. She was a fool, period. It was possible she was dead and had not chosen to leave them, but it would make no difference. Even if it was delusions of grandeur that drove Praimfaya, even if they were planted in her head when she was younger than Skaigona by an equally irresponsible mother, she could find no pity in her for the so-called commander.

She shuffled in the grass, tucking her forepaws against her chest and wincing at the familiar twinge in her weak shoulder. Heda's question was a reasonable one, but not one Wylla had any kind of answer to. There is no way, said Wylla sadly. If there was, I'd have gone to the ends of this earth to make it happen. Curses are for life. So never trust a witch, she advised.
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heda smirked. "my sister's name is witch." she knew on some level that this was not what wylla meant. the beginning of a joke, perhaps. but it was snuffed out by the word 'fool.' "what's a fool? what's a permotion?" two birds with one proverbial stone.
she was a fool to leave you. "worripa left too, while you were gone." heda's nose twitched. "nomi and mahler have been looking for him."
never trust a witch. 
"where did you go?" now that wylla had opened up to answers, heda had more questions. naturally. her coppergold eyes watched the woman carefully. what did an eye look like when it fell out of someone's head? had the witch bitten it out or just magicked it away? had it hurt?
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Keep an eye on her, Wylla said sagely, but with a smirk at the end that suggested she was kidding. She had no reason to believe that Witch would ever turn out like Caiaphas, not with Mahler's influence in her life. Then again, some wolves were just born rotten. The seawitch, for instance. Wylla could imagine no world where Caiaphas had ever borne the soul of a good wolf. Even her children had not been spared the miserable chaos that whirled around her, not that Wylla knew about that.

Then the cascade of questions. It took a lot for Wylla not to roll her eye; give an inch, take a mile. That's how kids were. A fool is someone who does something really stupid, she answered, monotone, as if she was the voice of Google search engine with no personality or investment in the answers. A promotion means getting a new rank and new responsibilities. Maybe Sequoia thought the kids were too young to learn about hierarchy, which was also foolish, but she held her tongue.

So Worripa was gone. Wylla felt something peculiar thrum in her chest, almost like concern, but it wasn't like she knew the kid well. It was the face of her son she imagined. It wasn't her problem if he went wandering off from under watchful noses, just like no one in Sagtannet had made it their problem when Thade disappeared. No one had helped that she could recall, no one but his parents. Still, there was something more there that Wylla wasn't willing to unwrap. Worripa was her blood.

But he wasn't her problem. To the sea. To where I was born. I went on a trip with my daughter. All said in a distracted fashion with a slight frown toying her with browline. He was Sequoia's problem, and Mahler's, neither of whom had done anything to earn any favours from Wylla. That was what she told herself to quell the urge to get up and go looking for a wolf who was her kin but likely did not know it, and wouldn't care if he did, she was sure.

Heda probably didn't, either, and suddenly Wylla was compelled to blurt out, I'm your aunt. Not that that was going to change anything about whatever relationship this was. Heda was practically Sequoia's child now, and Sequoia was clearly out to get her, so nothing really would change, except maybe Sequoia would deny it if Heda ever brought it up and forbid visits. Actually, she was damn surprised the kids hadn't been turned against Big, Bad Wylla in her absence. That would have been par for the course. Great-aunt, technically, but whatever.
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heda smiled finally, a true smile. the rest of what wylla said was absorbed and silently weighed. she was a sponge, and the older wolf had given her nothing but information. daughter. that was what witch and druid were to sequoia. and her too, heda supposed, though by now she understood that things were different.
she wanted to ask what wylla had seen at the sea. now that her definitions had been explained, the girl saw little reason to dwell. she understood that everyone had jobs in the pack. and she knew she could revisit that.
daughter. it stuck out over everything else, at least until wylla proclaimed that she was heda's ant. the girl's brow furrowed. "i don't have a ant. you can't keep them as pets," she revealed, rather ruefully. 
"how big is a great-ant?" heda asked next. wylla was certainly full of odd information. but as quizzical as she was, the child was not about to let a source of news from outside rivenwood go so easily.
"druid has a snake," heda offered after the fact, cheery and unhelpful. "her name is bracelet!"
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Oh, god, the kid was an idiot.

Wylla openly stared back at Heda, waiting for some indication that she was just joking around. Surely she knew the various words associated with family. It turned out, however, that Heda was quite serious. Another lick of flame up Wylla’s throat. What kind of sad education were Sequoia and Mahler giving these kids?

She knew better than to expect more of the Graf, and apparently, Sequoia was too busy gossiping and being a gigantic pain in the ass to actually teach them anything. Wylla did sigh this time, softly, sadly, because damn, this was pathetic. It didn’t matter that they didn’t have any aunts or uncles that they knew about, they should at least know this! The news about Druid’s pet snake fell entirely by the wayside, which was fortunate, because Wylla was not a fan of them and did not want to relive the day Phaedra dragged a rubber boa home and dropped it on her sleeping face.

An aunt, said Wylla, rather exasperatedly, is your mom or dad’s sibling. A great-aunt is your mom or dad’s parents’ sibling. Yeah, that was a bit convoluted. Praimfaya was my brother’s daughter. It still felt gross to say, kind of oily in the mouth. She liked Heda well enough, but the rest was hard. She did not like Praimfaya, and did not like any connection to Dragedans.
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heda listened as usual. wylla went on to explain what an ant was. not an insect, but a type of relative. the girl tried to remember if sequoia had spoken of any siblings. mahler certainly had not, but from him, the child had learned that ciri and phaedra were his daughters.
the smooth forehead wrinkled again with her thoughts. "my aunt. my mother's brother's .. mother's brother." she trailed away, gave a thump of her tail against the earth. it was all confusing, and none of it truly mattered to heda. her mother was gone. her brother was gone. these things mattered more.
"what do aunts do?" heda asked, cutting to the heart of the matter. "are you really a doctor? are you both?" she blinked solemnly at wylla. wylla her great-aunt. 
great-ant sounded better.
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Yeah, sure. That. That was a roundabout way of getting to it, but after linking the connections together in her brain, a process that took more mental power than Wylla was willing to admit, it was pretty much the same thing. It was beginning to hurt her head a little, so she couldn't blame Heda for struggling with it. For that, she blamed her caretakers. Inadequate, no surprise there.

I dunno, she replied, shrugging and rolling slowly to her side in the grass. The sun was warm where it filtered down through the foliage, warmer than many an early autumn day. The edges of the leaves were beginning to go yellow. Soon the woods would mimic fire. I've never been an aunt before, but we're family, so family stuff, I guess. What do you want me to do?

Wylla was puzzled by Heda's next question. Are you a doctor? What? Why would you think I'm a doctor? Oh, right. She had told Skaigona she was a butt doctor. Shit. Oh, uh, yeah. That was just a joke.
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heda tilted her head to the other side. "why are you so tired?" she understood the concept of needing to sleep, including getting tired. but what was on the woman's face was more than that. the girl watched wylla lay down, and then followed suit, flopping down and crossing her forepaws across her chest.
"i like to watch the birds this way," she said after no particular pause. "maybe you could let me teached you the names. because you are my aunt. and i am your ...?" an eyebrow raised. the girl craned her neck against the ground to peer at wylla, searching for an answer.
"if you are not a doctor, then you lied," the girl murmured, though her tone was not judging. "are you allowed to lie? because you are a grown-up?"
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Heda was more perceptive than Wylla thought. The girl was lacking in some vital education, but she picked up on Wylla's bone-deep exhaustion as quickly as if Wylla had told her about it. Oh, she said, knowing she could not possibly burden a child with her woes, it is the witch's curse. To know sadness for all my days. Sometimes it makes me very tired.

That seemed like a good enough explanation.

Neice, she said when Heda trailed off. She scanned the trees above. Wylla never paid much mind to birds, or nature in general. She was too self-absorbed to care about it. The only time she noticed birds was when she was hunting them, and she thought of a large-breasted duck with a pang of annoyance. She didn't see any birds in the trees, but then, she wasn't looking very hard for them. Birds could hide very well. Yeah, sure, go ahead.

But Heda went off on a tangent about lying, and Wylla tilted her head to the side so she could see the girl looking back at her. Lying is ... Complicated, said Wylla. I am sorry for lying. It wasn't a very nice joke. Funny as hell, though. She would never forget the look on the girl's face when she thought butterflies were going to come out of her butt.

Grown-ups shouldn't lie, either, she said softly, but sometimes, you have to lie. Sometimes, grown-ups lie because they are scared of the truth. Wylla considered herself an honest wolf, these days, but the lure of lying was always present. Heda was sure to have questions about that, too, but Wylla was growing weary, and tried to get a jump on the girl by prompting, the birds?
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the witch's curse seemed more and more real the more that wylla mentioned it. as still and observant as she was becoming, heda still had the susceptibility of a young child. a sense of magick already innately instilled, encouraged by phaedra, and now beckoned by wylla: it sank inexorably into her little soul, becoming part and parcel of it.
"it's okay. i didn't mind," heda said to the woman's apology. her own eyes were trained upon movement above them, a flash of blue that deepened. "that's a mountain bluebird," she said. "and that's a woodpecker." the girl's paw lifted toward the proud crest of the hard-beaked bird.
"that's a sparrow mom." another point toward a dull, tiny brown bird. 
"sometimes red birds come. mahler says they are called a ... carbinal."
she sighed, relaxing back against the ground.
"are you afraid of anything, aunt willam?" she tried it on for size, decided it wasn't an unpleasant fit.
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Wylla had no choice but to trust everything Heda said. Her eye was not trained to track birds in the trees. Even when her little great-niece pointed them out, it took Wylla several long seconds to spot them, and then she had to wonder how the girl was able to tell them apart. The woodpecker and the sparrow looked practically the same to Wylla's gaze. At least the bluebird was a little more distinct.

How do you know it's a mom? she asked about the sparrow, squinting at the little brown bird in the trees while Heda spoke of carbinals. Wylla didn't know any better, and assumed that was exactly what they were called. I've seen those before, she shared. Sometimes they landed on the ground to pick up errant seeds. A carbinal. They have black faces and pointy little heads.

Heda asked a question next, breaking Wylla's concentration on the trees and causing her gut to bubble with sudden anxiety. She had many fears, most of them surrounding her death and not many of those were appropriate to tell a child about. Maybe appropriate wasn't the right word. More like, there would be more questions than answers.

Being alone, she decided. It was more complicated than simply being alone — Wylla was alone all the time, more often than she was in anyone's company, and was learning to be more comfortable alone than together — but she couldn't very well tell Heda that she was afraid when she died, there would be no one beside her and no one who cared. It was too much to burden a kid with. It sucks to be alone, right?

A little shudder crept up her back and she added, and sharks. You've probably never heard of sharks?
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"because it's she's brown," heda said very simply once wylla had finished. she digested each bit of information in parts, answering out of turn. shaking her head against the ground solemnly at the mention of this shark, she blinked away, waiting for wylla to explain as she went on. "boy birds are prettier than girl birds."
and a nod to carbinals. her great-aunt knew the exact one of which heda had spoken.
she let out a sigh, and then another. not from any true moving of the spirit, but for the sound of it, the way her belly muscles clenched and released and made a new sensation. eventually she would sicken herself with the exercise, but for now it was only that, exploration.
heda rolled onto her side and watched wylla as she spoke, eyes falling to the adult's mouth as she took in every new word with the hyperfocus of an untutored child.
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Boy birds are prettier than girl birds. What a tragedy, to waste beauty on male bullheadedness. Wylla could only snort, quirking her lips with amusement. If she knew that male birds used their beauty to flaunt their bodies in an effort to impress women, she would have laughed outright. Male wolves were not prettier than female wolves, but no less prone to strutting about like they were hot shit.

Sharks are great beasts of the sea, Wylla shared, stretching out a paw to vaguely trace the shape in middair above them both. Long and flat, mostly, kinda like a big, fat snake but with fins and a tail like the crescent moon. She could only imagine the terrible image forming itself in Heda's mind with her insufficient description. Oh, well. It was sure to be horrifying, and sharks were that, no matter the form.

They can't walk on land, but they're real crazy in the water. Faster than a lot of fish and with great big teeth. They go wherever blood is to wreak havoc. Wylla had never been close enough to a shark to witness the true terror of their teeth, nor did she ever wish to be. They grab other creatures and just, she mimed snapping her jaws shut with a soft click, then shook her head side-to-side, letting her gaze land again on Heda when she was done eviscerate them. Could grab a wolf if you swim out far enough. You can see 'em coming when their fin sails above the water, but if you see that, it's probably too late. Scary motherfuuu—uuunsicles.
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it was a horrific image indeed. heda was determined not to be scared, but the longer wylla spoke, the more images filled the girl's mind. she was indeed thinking of a snake that lived deep in water, many thousands of times bigger than bracelet, with fishlike fins and a tail like the long feathers of a bird.
if she'd been able to draw it, no doubt she would have demanded aunt willam magnetize it directly to a choice position upon her refrigerator.
heda was quiet for a long time.
"can sharks come here?" her voice was hushed, and she craned her head to look at the woman. "like, in the lagoon?" it was the biggest body of water that heda had seen to date. could sharks live there? she shivered, tucking her paws closer to her chest.
"what does ev ... evis .... ermate mean?"
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No, said Wylla with a shake of her head. Long grasses tickled the sides of her face, prompting a snort and a chortle. They're big mothereffers, too big for the rivers. They'd die. Literally, it turned out, but she had no way of knowing an immobile shark was a dead shark.

They are sea beasts. If they come ashore they dry out, but they're deceitful. They can swim in shallower water than you'd believe. She'd heard tales once or twice of sharks beaching themselves to snap up misbehaving puppies, only to wriggle their way back to the ocean. Sly buggers. Wylla believed those stories to this day, despite suspecting that Lusca was lying about some of that.

Eviscerate, she repeated, pausing a moment. It's like what happens if you take a squirrel and shake it really hard and your teeth tear through the fur and skin.
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heda sat with the image for a moment.
she still could not picture the shark in her mind, and so she imagined a wolf-fish, with fins and a head that looked familiar. for some inexplicable reason her mental shark was also given four paws, but it didn't matter.
eviscerate. she thought of how she had shook and killed birds, but she did not think she had done that to them. still, the idea tingled something under her teeth.
"so sharks ... eviscerate things. what kind of things? anything? or — what do they like to eviscerate?"
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Anything they can get their teeth on, said Wylla. Mostly fish and seals, but there's always a risk if you swim in the ocean. For all she had to say about sharks, she didn't have any firsthand experience with them. She saw a dead one once. Their teeth are on the outside of their mouth, kind of. They couldn't chew nicely if they tried.

It occurred to her then that Heda probably didn't know what a seal was, either. She'd opened a whole other can of questions by mentioning them, probably. Her niece was quite inquisitive; it would be a lie to say Wylla wasn't growing tired of all the questions when all she really wanted was a good nap, though to her credit, she did a fair job of hiding it from Heda.
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heda yawned. the idea of so many teeth was beginning to terrify her. and so she had grown tired, ready to escape into her dreams that would definitely not be filled with shark wolves that pooped butterflies into a never-ending ocean.
"what's a seal, aunt willam?"
the sentence was punctuated by another yawn. unbidden, she curled closer, seeking wylla's somehow-familiar figure, a child recognizing motherhood in someone else.
whatever explanation might be started would surely be in vain. heda would be asleep before she was taught a new fact.
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Like a hairless wolf with flat, useless legs, she said. It was a cop-out answer. She was about ready to excuse herself to somewhere quieter for a nap, but when she made to shift, she realized Heda's weight pressed into her and looked down to find the girl asleep.

Wylla's features softened slightly. Sequoia was probably doing an okay job as a mother to Praimfaya's abandoned kids, but nothing would ever replace their actual mother. She relaxed back into place and gently tucked her legs in, curving to drape her muzzle protectively over the sleeping pup. She supposed this place was as fine as any other for a nap, and drifted off into her own dreams of sharks on the shoreline.