Moonspear All anybody would tell me is all that bad news

I know you aren’t feelin her but I wanted to get this up before time gets away with us! No rush. Set right after her thread with Sialuk (I can backdate if I need to but usually don’t bother)

Bridget hadn’t wanted to be impolite, but as the conversation with Sialuk wound to a close, she had to hurry to get to the place where @Keen was meant to be waiting. She was late. It wasn’t the end of the world but it had to be nerve-wracking for the woman waiting for her. Fuck, not a great start, but she’d absolutely make it up to her.

Hey!! I am so sorry, Sialuk caught me on the way and wanted to chat. It seemed like a bad diplomatic move to tell her I had somewhere to be, at least without checking in first. Bridget smiled and said as she arrived, explaining before she’d even managed to find Keen in the area next to the falls. Looking around, though, her smile grew as soon as she’d spotted her.

It had been ages since she’d been on an actual date. Romance wasn’t something she’d spent a lot of time thinking about, but something in her relished the opportunity to maybe return the favor if this seemed to go well. There were a few places she knew…

No jumping ahead. There was more than enough time for that after.

Her conversation with Sialuk had settled her, but Keen still felt weird about the whole thing. She had gone very quickly from no involvement and no desire to basically drowning in women. Two was actually a big number when it came to women, she thought. Especially when those two women were Bridget and Sialuk. But it was all sorted now, she figured.
Sialuk would go on as she intended, and Keen would try dating again. With Bridget. Aaaa! Okay okay. Calm. Keen pulled the birds out from where she'd stashed them and settled nearby, and waited. And waited. And waited. She was pretty sure she was being ghosted by the time Bridget actually showed up.
Oh thank goodness. She was too relieved to harbor any sort of negative feelings about Bridget's lateness. Oh, you're fine, don't even worry about it, Keen assured her, a little uncomfortable with the apology and especially the mention of Sialuk. She smiled at the sight of her though, stepping forward to clear whatever distance remained between them. So uh, What do I say? How are things at home? Horrible. It sounded more like an intro to a counseling session than a date. But it was all she had.

Bridget enjoyed the sight of her, and the setup, as she came in closer to join her. Honestly? Not the best. I’m glad I had a reason to get away for a bit. She’d never have said it in a place where anyone from Brecheliant could hear; she loved her home and all of the wolves who made it up. But the baggage everyone was hauling around there was hard to reckon with. She wished she knew how to make things better, but instead she knew that was impossible. All she could do was help them through a little at a time.

Maybe, if you aren’t tired of me by the end of this, I could show you the better parts of it. Since I’ve sold it so well. She added with a light laugh, then shook her head. I promise it isn’t all that bad. You look nice, by the way. She reached out and gave her a touch on the shoulder, then sat down, extremely ready to focus on something nice for a change.

Have I mentioned that I love Bridget??

I don't think I could get tired of you, Keen found herself saying, smiling a little shyly and blushing at the touch. It was true, as far as she was concerned. They had only met once before this, but Bridget had a wild charm to her that Keen felt could make any situation worthwhile if only to see what she might say or do. She settled too, continuing, I'd love to see your home sometime. But we can always find other places too, whenever you need time away. It was kind of awkwardly-put, but Keen felt she'd gotten the offer across well enough: you can hide with me any time. Hiding was kind of her thing anyway, so it worked out.
You look nice too, She added, and then started to fumble her words a little bit. Well - ah - I mean, you always do, uh - She cut herself off with a smile that was half apologetic and half self-deprecating. Are you hungry? Keen asked after a moment with a slight exhale, gesturing to the birds and thinking that maybe she should have stripped the feathers first. Or maybe not. She wasn't sure what Bridget would have preferred, and that was really all that mattered here.

I don’t mind the idea of putting that to the test. Bridget winked, half-teasing. She did intend to spend as much time as she could spare, but in reality, how much was that? Would it be enough to keep this thing going, or was Keen going to expect her to leave where she was?

That was absolutely not something Bridget was going to bring up on date number one. Or was this two, technically?

It was cute, the way she backtracked a bit as she offered distraction and then tried to give a compliment. Bridget’s smile grew a bit watching her, nearly without her realizing it. I could definitely eat. She hadn’t yet today.

These look amazing! Bridget took the invitation to grab one, dropping it in front of herself and sitting down again. If I’m in charge of next meal, I hope you like fish. She might get lucky enough to provide something else but wasn’t banking on it; her track record was still pretty poor when it came to hunting actual prey.

One of the many things Keen decided she liked about Bridget: it was impossible to feel insecure about their interactions. It all felt very straightforward in a way that took more mental energy to question than Keen had the capacity for at this point in her life. Her smile turned shy as Bridget complimented the birds, and she almost forgot to get one for herself. Luckily she remembered.
But she didn't have much of an appetite, far too distracted by her date to think of eating. Fish sounds perfect, She agreed easily. Keen hated fish. At least until the moment Bridget mentioned it, and then that hatred was promptly banished from her mind, never to return to conscious thought or spoken word. I was lucky to get these. I'm not much of a hunter. More of a uh, historian. Actually luck had very little to do with it. She'd been persistent, and it had taken hours. But Bridget didn't need to know that.

Ah, perfect! I used to be, but shit happens. Bridget said, both relating and dismissing her insecurity. Whatever she might say, she’d obviously caught these, which meant she was more than alright by Bridget’s standards.

The shit that happened was probably obvious enough that she didn’t mention it any further. Instead she snagged the interest of that second mention. Keen obviously knew her trade but Bridget didn’t know much about hers in return.

A historian? Sounds impressive. What kind of history? So she was smart. Bridget’s gaze sparked with interest and intrigue as she waited, though she wasn’t shy about getting started on the meal while the other woman explained.

Keen couldn't relate to losing a limb, but she could empathize with the general sentiment. How many things had she been forced to give up over the years because shit happened? Too many for her to get her hopes up about anything new. Even this. But she could enjoy it while it lasted, at least.
She flushed when Bridget called her occupation impressive. She was more used to hearing that it was boring, or weird, or nerdy, or obsessive — and maybe those things were true, but Keen loved it all the same. Bridget would quickly find that indulging this love of hers was the easiest path to earning Keen's affections. Not that the blonde medic needed any help in that department.
All kinds. Mainly pack history and personal history. I suppose I'm something of a biographer, Keen thought of it as living vicariously in some aspects. All these experiences she would never have for herself, tucked away in her memory for safekeeping. It's a lot of talking and listening, mostly. Then I have to put it all together, make it a cohesive story. People tend to remember their feelings more than any details, but sometimes things slip through, little mundane things like remarks about the weather, and then I can start to fill in the blanks.
She wasn't sure if that made sense to anyone but herself, and suddenly felt self-conscious. Ah, sorry, I'm rambling. You're a medic, right? Do you enjoy it?

Never. I asked, and I like hearing about new things. You’ll definitely need to come meet Brecheliant. We have storytellers, but they aren’t historians. Bridget smiled, reassuringly touching the other’s paw briefly. She loved when others opened up and spoke about their passions with enthusiasm. There were few things more fun to listen to.

I do. It’s hard to imagine being anything else. Recently she’d felt frayed in it, but that was not her role. Something else weighed on her and got in the way. I just try my best. Sometimes, though, there’s nothing I can do. And sometimes there’s things medicine can’t heal.

Her smile had faded a little, but she regained it and shook her head. Things have been hard for some of the ones I care about. I’m not sure how to help, so I really appreciate the chance to get away for a while. Thank you for that. You could call it avoidance but she wouldn’t. Taking breaks was healthy, and no part of her intended to not face things again as soon as she returned. For now, instead, she smiled and leaned in, brushing a quick kiss on the other’s cheek.