Ravensblood Forest Let your walls down

She should have stayed, but pride pushed her on.  Where was she heading now?  This wasn't the forest she'd been in and it felt as if days had passed since she'd last stumbled upon water.  Her sense of time was fucked - even she knew that likely wasn't the truth of it.  She hardly cared.

She'd always quietly scoffed at wolves who seemed to fear death, but it stung a bit, thinking this might be the thing that did her in.  At first she'd gotten a taste of that same panic, but as she grew more tired, the whole thing had become a bit of a joke; maybe today would finally be the day she keeled over.  In the end it never was.

At this point, she was on borrowed time.  A lame wolf without a pack, no reliable food, and a lingering sickness.  She'd found no packs, nor any others to follow.

She weaved an unsteady path through the trees, stopping frequently.  The sun was high but the air was thankfully cold, yet still she burned beneath her heavy fur.  What was that scent?  Bridget stopped again for the twentieth time and took a testing inhale, swaying on three grounded limbs.  It wasn't familiar and, hazily, she was beginning to piece together that she was nowhere near Brecheliant.  Where the fuck was she?

I'm gonna start rolling for her I think.  Realistically, unless she finds a pack to take her in, it makes a lot of sense <3

she’d never meant to linger here long, but an unexpected scent kept her. drew her deeper in the wood.

morgana found the source stumbling about just as the hares she had found weeks ago. she watched her struggle from the cover of shadows. her interest and curiosity grew the longer stayed.

then, unmoving, the speaker called, you are unwell.

Morgana's voice surprised Bridget as it came, with no warning, from someplace out of sight. Even if there had been cues it was doubtful she would have noticed them. Still, there was no fear, only frustration as she turned and her body tottered unsteadily. Fucking shit.

Hadn't noticed. Her voice was dry enough to crack, but she couldn't help stiffening. Any fight would be a clear death sentence to her, yet if this voice intended to finish the job, maybe a single bite would be enough to make sure she regretted it. A single bite had done this to her.

She needed long-term help desperately. But even with death lurking, she was too proud to beg for it. Have a good laugh. Sure. No one was but she thought it was pretty funny. A medic about to die because she couldn't treat her own wound. Hilarious even.

the sarcasm in her voice is nothing but a pitiful croak. morgana wondered what had led her to such a state. quickly, she formulated an answer. the curse had come for her, just as it’d come for them all.

i don’t see the humor in this, she replied tonelessly.

then she wondered aloud, do you want help?

Too bad. That was the last of her bravado though, as her own dry laugh immediately turned into a coughing fit. Her mouth was so dry she could barely make sense of her tongue anymore.

A part of her still rebelled at the notion of help. What did it say about her, as a healer, if she could not even help herself? There shouldn't have been any shame in it but her competitive streak, and that drive to prove herself better, was so hard to turn off. Thankfully her drive to survive was stronger.

The woman's voice was odd. There was no expression in it, unlike the girl who'd helped before. She still couldn't see the wolf and for a moment wondered if she was even real. Maybe this was a trick of her mind. Maybe she was talking to no one and, finally, she was losing her grip. Who's...

She'd lost track of the question entirely, but as she began to ask who this specter was, she cut off and lowered her head. The world was beginning to go hazy again.

Maybe the Dark One was a goddess after all. That made sense, for some reason.

Just do it, she finished after a stretch, still not looking up, but picturing the shadowed figure looming over her. It had been lurking long enough, toying with her. She was tired of playing.

she’s bold, even through illness. though her firey display was nothing less than pathetic. a dying flame rather than a roaring fire.

morgana stepped closer. she watched her sputter and cough and and slowly lose whatever strength she had left.

and she waited. and waited. and then-

there. an answer. short and simple. morgana made it clear in her own mind. she didn’t wish for help. she wished for an end to whatever suffering plagued her.

i won’t.

morgana would not grant her the release she desired. melena’s voice rang in her ears now.

the god’s blessing does not come without a price. and perhaps it was time for them to make that payment.

morgana made herself smaller with a crouch and she spoke to the girl in a way she’d rehearsed many times in the past. soft, warm, inviting. i am a medic. allow me to heal you. allow my group to care for you while you recover. and i promise your health will return to you in time.

She waited for the deal to be given. Her head hung so that her muzzle nearly brushed the growth at her feet, but she barely saw it. A memory had caught her, a conversation with Teya, one she hadn't expected to play out so soon. I'd choose to come back, every time. They would give the offer. If this was the Dark One, they had no choice.

"I won't."

Despite her bone-deep weariness, Bridget's lips lifted at that refusal and what she heard in it. That isn't an option. She wouldn't let her deny this, goddess or not. But luckily the next words made it through and, after a moment, clarified into something real within her understanding. A medic.

Your group. Bridget stated, glancing up without lifting her head. She still saw no one. Maybe they were all ghosts.

Who fucking cared? Like she had the right to be picky right now. Fine. It wasn't exactly grateful, but she was too done in for pleasantries. If she lived through this she could thank them properly, however ghosts needed thanking. All she wanted was to drink, sleep, and eat... in that order. If this woman had even a single one of those to offer, she'd give her whatever she asked in return, no question.

the girl finally rose her eyes from the earth. they trailed along the land around them. she spoke of the group, but nothing more.

soon her answer came, short and simple once more. morgana kept her joy at bay, only humming and nodding.

come. the speaker stood and motioned in the direction of the isles. lean on my shoulder if you need.

When she came into view, Bridget noticed that she was smaller, but her voice and the way she spoke left the younger medic with no more doubts as to whether she was going with. Most of her weight had disappeared anyway - even with Bridget leaning heavily, Morgana likely would not have trouble.

She wouldn't speak much as they moved and would focus mostly on keeping up. She had no idea how far they needed to go, but the amount she'd come had been too far already.

There was something otherworldly about this woman. Maybe she wasn't Death, but she was something fae. It reminded her of home in a way few things had since coming here. Whatever Morgana instructed she'd try to do until they'd reached the isles.

I'll toss her in pledged <3 if you wanna wrap here