Noctisardor Bypass nature

tags for reference. <3

Fiona dragged a large haunch of elk back to Rivenwood. The carrion had been old, but the temperatures had been cool enough to keep it from rotting. How it had died was anybody's guess, but the dry, gamey texture of the meat led her to believe it had been an old thing. She lugged the heavy meal toward Dawnleaf, dropping it off outside the den and collapsing beside it to make sure no scavengers would come take it away.

She'd thought long and hard about her brief meeting with Glaukos. Fiona wouldn't divulge the information to the others. What good would it do? Both Anselm and Etienne seemed to want the guard dog dead, but they would probably end up severely injured (or dead) if they made an attempt on his life. Fiona didn't want that for either of them. And she honestly didn't even want Glaukos dead. All she really wanted was to go back to the peace and quiet of the hollow.

@Prowler came to find her then, and Fiona shot the masked creature a tired smile. The familiar had brought her more herbs for dulling @Druid's painful injuries. Hey there, gal. You want a bite of this? she asked. Without waiting for an answer, Fiona gnawed off a bit of meat and tossed it to her helpful little friend. Dusk was settling in, and Fiona opened her mouth for a wide, exaggerated yawn, clicking her teeth shut when she was done before licking her lips.

When another tooth worked itself loose, Druid spat it into her black paw, stared at it for a second, then tossed it aside with nary another blink. She returned her focus on stimulating Ezra and Gideon, then cleaning their soiled bums afterward, all the while keeping her eye on the older four.

It was actually a blessing as their eyes and ears opened and they discovered their legs. With four puppies bumbling about the lair, Druid had no time anymore to dwell on anything. It was often mindless, thankless work, yet she was actually grateful for the busyness.

It didn’t hurt that they were actually sort of cute now. No longer did they resemble twitchy little root vegetables. Instead, they had little blue-eyed faces Druid might even call sweet (when they weren’t tearing her nipples to shreds or projectile vomiting, of course). Each of them was developing a personality and a voice.

Now, whenever Heda returned to the den, Druid was almost reluctant to leave. It was such a drastic difference, it was disorienting. She forced herself to go outside during the shift change today despite this and the rainy forecast, taking deep breaths of petrichor as she gingerly hobbled into the gloomy daylight.

Almost instantly, the smell of meat drew her attention. Her mismatched eyes clapped upon the sight of Fiona sharing some carrion with her furry familiar. It made Druid think of Bracelet for the first time in a long time, an errant thought she brushed aside as she hop-stepped toward the strange pair.

Hey.

Druid emerged from the den, a dribble of blood on her lip. A cause of concern any other day, but Fiona had come to expect it these past few days with the Den Mother. Her teeth were the worst of it, and the witch wondered if she was having any luck eating since the incident. It had to have been painful to bite down on anything. Hopefully Heda had been able to chew her meals for her, as unappealing as that must have been. Fiona had hoped to find a fresher kill with soft organs intact, but they would have to make do with what she had found along the way.

Hey, how are you? Have you been able to eat? she asked. Without food, healing was going to come to a grinding halt, and Fiona certainly didn't want that. She watched how Druid favored her injured elbow, too. Hopefully some of the dulling herbs she had brought by earlier had helped, and she had another small dose lined up at her feet, courtesy of Prowler.

She paused to mull the question, tongue absently swirling around her mouth to probe all the gaps, including the freshest one. Not for the first time, Druid wondered if she might get an infection from all the waste she cleaned up on a daily basis. It was a necessary evil and, besides…

I get all my nutrients secondhand these days, she said dryly, taking a careful seat. It helps that the oldest four can take some regurgitated meat now, though I’ve found that I can manage most meat if I just work it long enough.

She stared down at the hunk of carrion, which would be too tough for her based on a brief visual inspection. Well, Druid wasn’t particularly hungry at the moment. She’d just finished cleaning up after Heda’s boys, after all.

To answer your first question, I think I’m doing better than I was. I think that confronting Glaukos—and getting her teeth kicked in by her own hand—was some kind of wake-up call or something.

She gave an approving nod on the food front. Fiona wasn't unaccustomed to the ways that mothers ate their children's feces. It wasn't weird or gross to her, just as it wasn't weird or gross for children to shit in their own bed. She didn't, however, think it was a particularly great source of nutrients for somebody who was healing from several knocked-out teeth. Then again, she didn't have many other ideas for food that didn't involve chewing. At least there was the coughed-up meat every adult could provide, and that was much more likely to be of use to Druid.

Fiona's ears pricked up when Druid mentioned the confrontation with Glaukos. She mentioned feeling better, and it was the perfect opening for the witch to point out what she had seen the other day by the cliff. The other day, by the cliff... you said you saw your sister, Witch. Do you remember that? she asked. Druid seemed more clear-headed now, less confused, and Fiona hoped she could explain what she had (or rather hadn't) seen.

She pondered her own words for a moment, though eventually her attention wandered back to the wolf in front of her. How was Fiona doing? She hadn’t had the warmest reception to the bypass, then she’d witnessed quite the show. That included Druid’s brief hallucinations, which she brought up now, causing the Den Mother’s ears to pin backward as her gaze slid away.

Yes, she said after a long beat of silence, and I know now she was never there.

She had some theories, though Druid didn’t bother mentioning any of them to her companion. She felt a flush of uncomfortable warmth, realizing this person she didn’t know very well knew a lot about her and some of her most vulnerable moments. She swallowed.

I feel like you’ve seen a very strange side of me. I’d like to start over, if that’s alright. And I’d love to learn more about you, Fiona, especially now that we’re pack mates.

She couldn’t help but think of the last time she’d attempted to get to know Fiona. Druid’s lips curled into a minuscule smile as she remembered, “Time is not free.” She knew that fact very well by now! But she hoped Fiona might indulge her this time, while they both had a few moments to spare.

The flattening of her ears and averting her gaze led Fiona to believe Druid felt remorse or embarrassment for what the Ash had witnessed. Little did she know it was quite the experience for Fiona as well. Learning about how the mind worked—or malfunctioned—was what made Fiona tick. Never before had she witnessed such a thing, and it had satisfied that part of her brain to see new behaviors in others, the good and the bad. Fiona's expression softened to let Druid know there was no need to feel shame or worry over what she had witnessed. There was no need to divulge that information to anyone.

When the conversation turned to Fiona, she felt a buttoning up of her own self. She was, and always had been, a rather private sort. It was easier to talk to others if they did not have ways to insult you based on what they knew about you. What, did you think Fiona was without flaws?

Still, she did mean to garner favor with her pack mates, that was in every wolf's nature. What would you like to know? she asked. The witch had always been better at asking questions than answering them.

Druid thought she recognized the expression on Fiona’s face at the prompt, a certain shuttering behind her eyes. But in the next breath, she wondered what the Den Mother wanted to know. Druid felt hopeful and suddenly very eager to have a real, healthy, two-way conversation with the healer.

Well, I know better than to ask what you do in your free time, she said with a dry chuckle. What if we started at the beginning? Tell me about your birthplace. Where was it? What was it like?

If she'd been drinking anything, Fiona would've spit it out. Instead, she let out an awkward honk of a laugh when Druid replayed a soundbite from their first conversation. Fiona had radiated "fuck off" vibes back then, namely because she didn't quite know what to make of Anselm back then. Now, she saw regarded him as mostly harmless... a thought that he would probably hate, considering how fragile his over-inflated masculine ego was.

Greenroot is south of here, about thirty days of travel if you're sharing the journey with a raccoon-in-training, she said, gesturing to Prowler who was still working on the piece of meat Fiona had thrown to her. It's not anything special, at least not to those who weren't born into it. It does have some of the biggest, most beautiful trees I've ever seen, though. They're covered in moss, which I suppose is how the place got its name. Harmless facts to share with the Den Mother. There were times she missed Greenroot, especially during those first few weeks of travel, but she'd known from a young age that she would head elsewhere. Encountering Anselm had solidified that decision as a good one.

When Fiona gestured at the raccoon, Druid watched Prowler for a few moments. She thought of Bracelet again, just hoping her scaly familiar was somewhere living her best life. As much as she’d loved the snake, she knew the kinship between Fiona and Prowler must be even more profound, given the little bandit’s relative sentience.

Although her gaze lingered on the raccoon, she listened to every word Fiona shared. When she finished, Druid looked up at her again. She was an appealing wolf, especially now that she was opening up a bit more. Druid had always had family but she’d had very few friends over the years. Could Fiona be one of them?

Tell me about you and Prowler, Druid prompted next.

One of her ears flicked at a loud cry from within the den. But she refused to turn her head, much less go over there. Heda had it handled for now. In fact, she thought she heard her sister singing softly. The wailing soon petered out, allowing Druid to refocus on Fiona.

Others rarely bothered to learn the raccoon's name, so Fiona was rather surprised with Druid mentioned her familiar properly. The cry from the den also had the witch's muscles tensing, reading to spring into action, but the sounds dissipated, and Fiona relaxed again.

In Greenroot, finding and training one's familiar is part of our coming of age tradition. She was young when I found her—dependent on me for survival; she's probably about a year old now. There was plenty more to say about her, but Fiona kept her descriptions short as usual.

That’s pretty amazing. I had a familiar of sorts myself, when I was young, but she wasn’t part of any pack tradition, Druid replied, pausing to mull a moment before continuing, But I really like that premise a lot. What if we borrowed it here?

It was just a thought. But Greenroot sounded like the sort of place Druid wanted Rivenwood to be. And she figured it might be a cool nod not only to Fiona, Prowler and their origins, but Bracelet as well.

The news that Druid had once had a familiar of her own was curious, even if the bond had not been as intentional as Prowler's attachment to Fiona. Sharing the tradition would help solidify Fiona's place in Rivenwood, even if she did not plan on staying here long term. I don't see why you couldn't, she said, glancing back to the denmouth where six children could very easily be given the instructions when they were ready to take that next step in life.

There is another thing I want to teach you and Heda, when you are ready. It is the reason I have been going back to the hollow often. I know a way of keeping a woman's season away for as long as she wants. There were some inconveniences, like being bound to a small radius, but Fiona had found that few wandered far unless they were seeking out new family. Besides, traveling in the colder months would do just fine.

Fiona condoned Rivenwood’s adoption of the practice. Druid nodded, the corners of her lips pulling into a small smile. She would love for her children to know the wonder of building a companionship with another species. All her memories of Bracelet were so special.

The healer changed the subject, immediately piquing Druid’s interest. She listened in silence, her lips falling open slightly when Fiona explained she knew a way to prevent estrus. Her eyes widened.

You know, I didn’t have one until this year. I always figured my body wasn’t in the right condition. But I was fine with that. I didn’t want kids anyway. And then it did happen and it was like I wasn’t in control of myself anymore. I don’t just mean that I couldn’t resist temptation. It was like my entire mindset shifted to someone else’s. It’s hard to explain…

She drew in a breath, then shook her head minutely. Druid could barely make sense of these past few months for herself, much less make somebody else understand.

All that to say, she continued after a few beats, I’m very interested in learning about this. I’m ready right now whenever you are.

Druid explained how her thoughts, feelings, and motivations had changed during that time. Fiona had heard of it before, from her mentor, but this was the first time she had heard about it from somebody who had experienced it first-hand. It was exactly the kind of thing Fiona never, ever wanted to deal with. She liked being in control of her own mind, thankyouverymuch.

I've been tending to the medicine—yes, let's call it that—just south of The Pharmacy, in Tealwater Creek. There is a plant that, if you soak it in water, will make the water taste bitter. So long as you drink from it every other day, it will work. I will show you where the plant grows and how to forage it, too. All-in-all, it wasn't a terribly difficult process, but Fiona had met some—like Heda—who refused to make that kind of decision for themself. At least Druid seemed open to the concept. Fiona only wished now she had offered the same knowledge back when Druid had been Javelina.

Druid was so interested, in fact, she nearly insisted Fiona show her now. But she supposed there was no pressing need, since she presumably wouldn’t go into heat again anytime soon (gods forbid!). And with one leg out of commission, she couldn’t exactly go on random jaunts.

I take it this means you don’t want children of your own, although I suppose I already sort of guessed that, Druid mused aloud, thinking of previous conversations. With your help, I certainly won’t be having any more. I can’t even imagine going through any of that again.

She quite literally shuddered at the thought. She was coming to like her children these days, slowly but surely. Yet if someone asked her if she regretted having them, Druid wasn’t sure how she would answer, honestly. And it didn’t matter, did it? They were here, whether or not she liked it, and she was responsible for rearing them. She was just glad she had so much help.

Fiona did have a revulsion to the idea of being pregnant, but she wasn't sure how it would actually play out if she ever did get pregnant. She also had no intention of ever finding out. Druid seemed more than keen on getting started, though she had plenty of time between now and next winter to prepare. Besides, it was likely she planned to stay in Rivenwood for that time, which would make things easier in the long run.

Prowler brought you some more plants for dulling the pain, Fiona said, nosing the small assortment of greenery toward Druid. I don't know how much they've been helping, but it's probably worth keeping up with. They might help settle your stomach, too. The witch had noticed the particularly ~ripe~ smell of Druid's droppings as of late.

Fiona distracted her with talk of medicine, earning a grateful glance from Druid. These greens were not particularly palatable, though they did help and she was very grateful for that.

Thank you, Prowler, she said directly to the raccoon before carefully licking the herbs into her mouth.

She sat up straighter, working them like a cow chewing cud. They were far easier to break down than meat, though Druid still didn’t want to take any chances. Choking to death didn’t seem like a very pleasant way to go.

Thank you too, she added to Fiona when she finally swallowed, for everything. You’ve been great and I want you to know it’s appreciated.

last one from me! <3

Accepting gratitude wasn't exactly Fiona's strong suit, but she acknowledged Druid's thanks with a downward tip of her muzzle. Prowler stared on with mild interest, then waddled off to do who-knows-what.

I'm going to go catch up on some sleep, she said, tearing off a final chunk of elk haunch for herself. Let everyone know they're welcome to the meal, will you? she said to Druid.