Sun Mote Copse Undo

He looked around, sight blurry at first. Truth be told, he was a bit confused as well, and his sense of smell was...Well, non-existant. He felt a bit dizzy, likely a side-effect of having no corporeal mass though that was a realization he had yet to had. 

What he saw was the dark, grown-in den that he had been born in, almost stifling now from having fallen into such a state of disrepair. Weeds had invaded, and the walls had eroded slightly. Oddly enough, it looked bigger than it had been before. 

He forgot that he hated dens, in his moment of confusion and amusement. 

When he went to leave the den, he found his steps were short, and that when he reached the mouth of the den...It was much higher above his head than he recalled it being. He stepped out into the daylight, and moved toward the stream for a drink. He lapped at the water, but found himself drinking idly in spite of not being able to lap back any water at all. It was only when he stopped and look at his reflection that whatever hell had let him loose, was about to break loose again. 

"No," He said. "No, no, no- it can't be- NooooOOOO!" He hollered, stepping back, and looking into the water again and again. His heart raced. 

There was a reflection there, and it was his- 

but he was no more than three months old! An adorable bundle of chubby puppy fat but WHAT???

"No- like-but- oh god no, but whaaaaayyyyy???" he moaned, as he turned his head from side to side. His scars were all gone, and his face was fresh and beautiful- but he had fat puppy cheeks, pricked puppy earsm and even a blueish tint still to his eyes. 

"No, this can't be. I'm a- well jeez, I'm a Dad for crying out loud- how the hell am I a puppy?"

His voice broke. 

He glanced back into the water, staring his reflection down for a moment, and noticed something odd. 

Did his muzzle look a bit longer? Was he changing? Suddenly, he wished @Wraen was there. Surely she would have the answers!

Wraen tried to make sense of the logic and rules of this new form of existance, but once she had made some conclusions, something would happen to prove her wrong. The only solid thing was that she could find and connect more easily with people, who had known her in life. Who would think of her time from time and thus draw her closer. As for the rest - to most eyes she was invisible and she did not have great desire yet to try and communicate with them. Making friends and acquaintances was important, while you were alive. When you died, there was more value in visiting old friends. Because soon none of them would be left here and she was unsure of what would happen next. 

This is, how she heard Bronco's call and was able to locate him. She had expected to see him still living and thriving, but one look told her all she needed to know. He too had passed over, which did not feel right at all. Having seen him as a baby and growing up into the handsome and courageous man, a concept of him aging and dying did not fit in the portrait. Had she not met Towhee first, she would have not known the approximate passage of time after her passing. Now she did and it filled her heart with sorrow, realizing that Bronco too had been taken far too soon, when there should have been a long life ahead. 

"Hey," she greeted him, approaching slowly to, where he sat at the riverbank. "You called. I am here."

His head jerked up when he was suddenly addressed- and sure enough, Wraen was there, though whether by coincidence or by will he would never know. His mouth fell open to see her again; surely, this had to be a dream? 

”Hey, what’s-“ He looked back at his reflection in disbelief, before he looked back up at Wraen. He wasn’t sure which face surprised him more, or what it meant to see either of them. ”Wraen, wh- I don’t understand, I-“ 

And idea struck him.

”This is gonna sound crazy, but…I think I’m from the future…Like…I’m not a kid, and you, you’re-“

Still alive.

If it was true, ah- how good was it to see her again! He reached out for her, feeling joy spread throughout him. In a weak, but elated voice he spoke again.

”I’m so happy to see you again!”

Everything was alright. Everything was going to be fine. He’d start again, from this point- and some of it, he thought, he  might do differently but some things he would have to be extremely careful about. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize the existence of Killdeer, Boris, Bronte and Ponyboy.

Wraen tilted her head to the side, listening patiently to Bronco, who was trying to make sense of the situation he was currently in. Unfortunately, she did not have any answers. This was her friend's party and she knew as much as he did. One thing she had learned over the course of these three very odd days was that it was pointless to seek any logic in what was happening. Briefly - the only rock-solid thing about the afterlife was that it was a total chaos and anarchy. Once you accepted that, you took things as they came in stride. And enjoyed the process of simply having a fearless existence. 

"I am glad to see you too, kid," she smiled at him, imagining, how very awkward this would have sounded, if she had called him that, while facing that all grown-up tall and scarred macho-man. Maybe not that weird at all. Kids were always kids to their parents and the same applied to their aunts. "This is your party - you decide, what happens or not," she replied, looking around and recognizing the area in Sun mote copse, where they all had lived a long time ago. "Except any ties to the reality as you knew it no longer exist. So, while you can shift and change the scene around you, I am afraid that this won't affect the world beyond the veil," she gave her five cents.

"I'm glad to see you too, kid." 

He paused. Something about her reply seemed...off. He was the one who had seemingly travelled back in time and had re-entered his younger self's body, taking with him all of the conscious memories that he had- save for a few that were currently a bit blurry. Maybe she was just humouring him. She had always had a kind heart. She was likely just glad that he wasn't being his usual, childish self for once. He thought back on his youngest days, and felt ashamed for how badly he had behaved. 

Well, now was his chance to change that, and be good. He could grow up again, and make sure that this time around, he treated Wraen fairly. That he listened to her, and brought her food, and spent time with her. Maybe there was a chance he could look after her- and stop her from getting that cough she'd developed. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get her to live a while longer-

and Primrose, too, when Primrose eventually came along. Maybe he could warn Hydra, and save her life! Maybe he could take Osiris and all the others away from the Glen when the landslide happened so that they could all be spared! 

He would have to take some time to think about all the things he could change, and when they had occurred in the life he'd had before, so that he could prevent as much disaster as possible. 

But then Wraen started saying things he didn't understand. At first, he took it literally, and wondered what kind of a party was going on. Surely he wasn't a year old yet, not gauging by his reflection. He tried not to look too confused, and nodded vaguely. "Uhhhhh, okay," He said. Something about a veil, and mortal this and that? 

Maybe his brain was still part puppy. Was this what adults had sounded like when he'd been just a kid? 

Probably. 

"Wait....Wraen, how old am I?" He asked, suddenly. He knew he'd gone as far back as his early childhood days in the Copse, but that meant there might be a possibility that caused him to brighten. "Where's Dad?" He asked, tail waving. He'd made it back in time, hadn't he? One more life he could possibly change, if he could just warn everyone in time!

Too bad that even as a spectre, not bound to the limitations of a mortal body, could not hear the train of thoughts that went through Bronco's head. She would have listened very patiently and attentively as she always had. And then she would tell him that it was not really possible to alter the course of the history, because if not for one catalyst that would send the dominoes falling, then there would be a different one. And a third one. You cannot escape your fate, they say. Given a chance to live again, you can simply change the smaller details, not the bigger picture that you have been placed in. 

Therefore he would not be able to save Wraen, because it would always be the heart-disease that would finish her life at the age of five. He may be able to save some friends in this lifetime, but the landslides would still happen, the same catastrophe would destroy Moonspear. And they would still perish in a different way. Do not attempt to outrun Death - it will always find you - but enjoy the time you have been given as much as possible and, when the end finally comes, greet the old lass or man as an old friend, treat him with tea and a cake and take off together. 

"Well, you look like a baby now. But, when I last saw you, you were grown up. Maybe 3 or 4 years old?" Wraen racked her memory, but did not put too much effort in it. Because... time loses meaning, when you are dead. "Your father Colt died, when you were still a child," she explained. "In my brief career as a dead person I have found out that family members sort of gravitate towards each other. So... perhaps, try to think of him and he might hear you and come to meet you," she suggested. "It does not mean an immediate success, but trying never hurt anyone." 

He smiled for a fleeting second, feeling his cheeks warm. The hope he felt caused him to feel glowy on the inside- and had no idea that it showed, faintly, as a a light aura about him as well. It was only when she got to the word but that the little aura dimmed, and his expression fell. 

He was an adult. A few years old- well, that was how old he'd been when Wraen had passed away, but here she was again, and he was seeing her, and-

his father was already dead. Maybe it was a matter of days, maybe he was just a bit too late to see him again, and he felt his heart well with despair for a moment. Grief rushed in as though a dam had split, only to be frozen when Wraen continued. 

Her career....As a dead person.

He shuddered, and his ears fell back. He felt himself fade slightly, only to realize as he gazed down at his paws that he'd managed to slip into semi-transparency. His heart would have fallen, if he'd had one- and he suddenly became aware that he had no heartbeat anymore. 

"Wraen, does...Does that mean I'm dead too?"

"I am afraid so, yes," Wraen nodded, feeling sorry that she was the one to bring the bad news. She tried to remember, whether she had felt shocked to find herself dead, had she needed someone to tell her this and comfort her in the beginning? There certainly had been some sadness, not of her passing itself, but the fact that there would be people, who would mourn. Wraen knew, what loss had felt like, and as she had aged the number of people, who she had known and who had died, had grown.

You could tell yourself that they would never leave your heart, that in a way they stayed alive, but it was not entirely true. Life went on, new events took place and memories faded. Therefore she could not tell Bronco that it was not too bad or that there were exciting things waiting you in the afterlife. Or really anything that would make him feel better and lessen the depth of his sorrow of a lost life. For her dying had been a relief - a freedom loving spirit trapped inside a failing body meant agony and suffering. In the end you reach a point, where you no longer can pull through and your own comfort is more important than that of people, who love you. 

She was tempted to ask him about the circumstances of his death, but in the current setting it would be tactless. "But you are not alone. Everyone goes through this and... existence after death is not really lonely. It is different," she told him, trying to distract him just a little, but ready to be there and listen, if he wanted to linger on the topic. "When I was alive, they said that the death was the greatest mystery of all centuries. Now I can tell you that this is the most spot on description. Because death is a mystery and after dying you begin living in it. Nothing is set in stone, nothing is certain, you do not know the aim or the purpose, it is a slow-moving chaos... and it is different for everyone," she finished.

He sat down, hard. One of his unruly puppy feet splayed to the side, and he stared at it, still not quite certain why it was that he had reverted back to a child as a spirit, but...Well, he'd just have to accept things as they were, now.

He gave a heavy, demonstrative sigh; not that he needed to breathe now, anyway. 

Out of all wolves, he was glad that Wraen had been the one to find him, and deliver the news. She seemed to accept her circumstances, and had even grasped the concept of what her purpose was now- and that there might not even be one. "Is it...Are you lonely? Are you...Happy? Does it...Get any easier?" He asked, his lip trembling slightly.

"It depends..." Wraen shrugged, thinking about the questions Bronco had asked and searching for the most truthful and objective answers. "I mean, I died content, having no unfinished business," she said slowly and the moment these words left her lips she realized that this was not true at all. The idea that came to her mind, made her furrow her brow and her expression was sorrowful for a bit. But then it was gone again to be sorted out later. "Well, no. Can you ever have finished business with life?" she laughed. "I would say, I was fine leaving. and therefore, where I have been, there is a state of being content permanently. Like nothing bothers you and most things that did, while you were alive... you feel indifferent to them," she explained. 

"For me - time stopped to exist. When that happens, you no longer feel the rush to achieve everything in the limited amount of time you have been given. So... you... I kind of slowed down and just exist. There or wherever "there" is," she told him. "What I can tell you for sure - there are billions of souls out there and for each the afterlife if you can call it so is different. I chose to create a little pocket of paradise in the fabric of universe, because I loved my life here and I did not want to let go of it easily. So - I am sure that some are just like me and then there might be other options. The universe is a big place to be in and very easy to get lost in, Bronco," she concluded smiling.

"Easier - I don't know. Has anything been ever easy or is it just an illusion?" she asked him rhetorically. 

Just as she had been in life, Wraen seemed a scholar on nearly every matter, and he fell naturally back into the habit of asking her question after question like a school child. He was relieved to hear that she had been content, though something sat with him still, heavy on his chest. He couldn't tell if it was guilt or grief, or some combination of the two.

He wondered what it was like in Wraen's pocket of the universe. Paradise, according to her; he wondered what he might think of it, and if he could find something similar for himself...And came to the conclusion that that might be what he was supposed to do- but not yet. Not when something was tugging at him, like a fish-hook caught in a sleeve. 

"Wraen...I owe you an apology." He said. His voice felt so high and light; it felt almost insincere to be speaking with this childish tone, but it wasn't something he could seemingly control just yet. He was stuck with the ghost-body he'd been given, and that came with the high, scratchy voice he'd had as a child. "You did so much for me, over and over again, and I was just..." He shook his head and shrugged. "Man, I just had no idea. You were the best kind of friend, and you were...The mother I needed."

"What did you do?" Wraen grinned back, amused by, how embarrassed Bronco felt and feeling sorry that he had dragged this guilt with him over into the afterlife. Sure - she had been no different - she also had regrets about things she had done or could have done better or could have not said at all. Yet death had evened it all out for her and it had not bothered her much over there. Now, however, she felt that the longer time she spent in this world, the more characteristics of being a live person here, she picked up. And she was pretty sure that maybe few days from now she would begin to rethink her life and move on. 

"About that old argument? Well, no one died," she said and chuckled, because this was not true. She had died. "Not because of that. No offence, my friend, in my last moments here I did not think about that bastard Bronco and, how he should have respect to old people and not talk back and not point out to their flaws, when that privilege is reserved to the oldies only," she laughed. "It happened and maybe the only thing to feel sorry for is that, had either of us been less prideful, we might have had few more good hours or days together then," she told him and leaned down to nuzzle his forehead affectionately. If he let him, because - despite the small packing - Bronco was an adult and she remembered well him being big. 

He nodded faintly, ashamed of how immature he had been. And Wraen, as always, was graceful and with sweeping benevolence he wished that he'd learned in his lifetime, she pardoned him for his brutal behavior. He laughed softly, glad to know she had not held a grudge that lingered on the day of her death- but found himself grieving her still, even though it seemed they not existed on the same plane, at least temporarily. 

It felt odd to be touched by another spirit, likely because he no longer had nerve endings- and rather than sensation, it evoked emotion. He felt the happiness of a child seeing their parent return with food; the hope that surged through him when he made his first successful hunt, the flutter of his heart when he saw a girl he liked. All of the things that his heart remembered fondly returned to him when Wraen touched his forehead, and he felt himself grow a little, as he lifted his head to nuzzle her back. 

"I'll come visit you in your little patch of heaven," He promised her.