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[arabella !!]

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; ━ ━ ━ ━ ‘✦ ＭＡＶＥＲＩＣＫ ！！ ━ ━ ━ ━
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❝ { location - suzy's bakery } ,, { tagged - suzy and constance } ,, { mood - intrigued } ❞'''

maverick sighed, rolling his eyes at suzy's overwhelming enthusiasm. he almost wanted to cringe --- but he realized he had to cut the girl some slack. it was the least he could do after listening to her concerns, and it sounded like she had a pretty miserable day. maverick almost pitied the bubbly girl, realizing that without her kindness and sweet charm she wouldn't be as amazing as she is today. and if anyone got in the way of that, well, they would just have to face maverick himself. however, even maverick knows that he is not as intimidating as he used to be. unfortunately... that is what a dead girl does to you. amilia once filled him with endless joy and freedom; the kind he could never obtain from anybody else, but her. she was the key to the unpleasant cage he was trapped in throughout his first years of college, wanting an escape from all of the emotional trauma he encountered. if only maverick could see her face one time... to know she was okay. wherever she was, at least. that closure would save him more sleepless nights to come, and would cease the torturous nightmares that would follow him forever.

it's like --- it's like she did this on purpose. for what? why would you want to hurt me in this way, amilia? i just need a message... some sort of sign to tell me what you are trying to accomplish. maverick thought with a frown, tapping his fingers in confusion against the counter before responding to suzy.

closing his eyes, his hands tightened in two fists. he had to control his anger today --- he had to. as it was the first time he saw sunlight and actually breathed in the air in a while, he can't act up now. maverick grunted, wishing that all his thoughts could just stop leading to the same person every time. maverick just wanted an answer. an answer to all his problems, the police, and the entire town. but there was no lead... just some dumb fairy tale consisting of werewolves lurking in the national park. when maverick witnessed it on the news for the first time, he almost laughed in annoyance. he couldn't believe that instead of the detectives investigating amilia's disappearance properly, they brought up folklore to the surface to scare the children. it was ridiculous. maverick couldn't even watch another second of the news before turning it off completely, rushing to his room, and hiding under the covers of his bed like a child himself. he just wanted someone to take this case seriously.

it was as if amilia was a joke to the entire world.

shaking his mind to clear his thoughts, he gave a small smile to suzy before grabbing the muffin and devouring it like a champ. the perfect crisp top, warm and filled with lush blueberries --- it was as if he was taking a bite of heaven himself. hell, that is what exactly suzy's bakery was. the gates to heaven. or maybe, it was just the nostalgia kicking in. this place will always be his favourite shop, as it was the first destination him and his grandma would visit whenever they hung out a long time ago. first, his grandma would make her amazing lasagna, a trip to the lovely bakery, then a walk in the park. it was during the better time in maverick's life --- when he was just a kid, and when suzy was a kid too while her family owned the shop. him and her go way back, and he is glad that the business is continuing after all these years. the bakery reminds him of the simple times...

maverick was about to take his last bite of his muffin until suzy bumped into him during her usual rants, causing the piece to fall down. he chuckled once he apologized, "oh god, suzy. where would i be without you?" he smiled before crumpling the wrapper, picking up the piece of muffin that fell down to the ground, and throwing them into the garbage. he sat back near the counter, "it surely has been a while, didn't think this place would still be running, if i had to be honest. good on ya, though! he licked his fingers clean. "oh yeah, i absolutely despise your baking." he wiggled the fingers he just licked at her, winking. "no, but seriously you have to come over and teach me your ways. what i really mean is to mail me all your secret recipes, please and thank you. he said with ease, getting up from the counter and pointing to the washroom before heading there to wash his hands.

once he came back, he tilted his head in bewilderment as suzy described her strange day to him. he understood the whole grandma scenario, because maverick knew the elderly could be insane nutjobs someones. maverick absolutely hated people who disrespected workers for no reason, it is just a terrible quality to have. but what maverick could not understand was the lady who interrogated suzy before, even stealing a donut. the nerve she has, huh? maverick thought, irritating him to know end. however... he continued thinking about what the big deal was. why would anyone barge into a cute, innocent bakery and start a whole interrogation session? it was just... bizarre to to maverick. "by the way, the lady you were talking about before i went to the washroom with the whole "dead wife" case needs mental help. i mean, so does the grandma but i guess that's what wrinkles and losing your teeth does to you." he shrugged.

maverick began to shake his head when he heard suzy mention the werewolves, "nope, nope, nope suzy... you are not about to tell me you believe in all that crap, right?" he couldn't believe it, everyone was losing their mind. however, once suzy started talking about the beliefs from china, it was started to intrigue him a bit more. i don't know what powers suzy has herself, but convincing maverick of these werewolf superstitions was simple when it came out of her mouth. maverick couldn't believe how he was just eating all this information up, as if he never thought the concept was dumb two seconds ago. finally, he got up and walked towards the exit while holding the door and glancing at suzy with a smile.

"i'm not sure what is out there, but i'm not going home until we find out together." he smiled gently.

[Cats&Cucumbers]

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Full Name: Ajax Soltren
Nickname: Jax
Species: Werewolf
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Plays: The Hunter
Location: The Bar
Living Quarters
Tags: Robin, Constance
Form
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xxxxxJax was starting to grow impatient as he watched the two women stare each other down, blonde v. blonde, blue-green eyes v. chartreuse. Honestly, though, it seemed a one-sided battle to him. For some reason, Constance was pulling out all the stops today, invading this poor detective's personal space every second she got. And did she just...sniff her? Jax's piercing blue gaze narrowed incredulously. Maybe the human had missed it, but he sure hadn't. Now that's weird... even for Constance. The woman had been an absolute wreck the last year, that much he knew, and he was happy she was the type to stifle her emotions— he really didn't know how to deal with them. But most of her oddities were based around the emotional hellhole he had observed her to be. Nervous tics, short fuse, et cetera— those he all got. But sniffing was just straight up freaky.
xxxxxStill, he had no issue with Constance sniffing every human they passed as long as he could get to his damn shift on time. At this point, a small part of him in the back of his mind knew he was just being irritated for the sake of being irritated, but he couldn't find it in himself to care enough to change his mood. He wanted this stranger gone, Constance to go beat up Lars or whatever the hell it was she did to make herself semi-normal, and for himself to be surrounded by booze and drunk men, where he belonged.
xxxxxAt the detective's offer, though, his figurative wolf ears perked. A group of volunteers would be traipsing about his woods? Volunteers? As in, idiot humans that don't even have a badge? Honestly, he'd go dig them up a dead body himself if it would stop them from looking.
xxxxx...Now there's an idea. Suddenly, his mood did brighten. Right there's an idea and a half. If someone on the volunteer party went "missing" they wouldn't possibly be sending any more volunteer searches into the woods, would they? No they would not.
xxxxxSuddenly blessed with a patient smile, he nodded along with Constance's offer as though it was the best idea he'd heard in weeks. "Yes, unfortunately I have to get to work, so I probably won't be able to make it. But like I said, I'll keep an eye out and call the station if I see anything." He promised like the good samaritan he was. "I'd stay to see you out, but I really do need to go." He said, shrugging on his leather jacket with a charming smile. "Constance, see you later, and enjoy the fire..." He faded off as he brushed past the detective, a strangely familiar scent striking him. His half-turn as he was walking to the door to look at Constance over the detective's shoulder was in slow-motion. In a brief memory, he saw Constance cuddled on the sofa with... Maria. Their eyes barely connected before he was shutting the door behind him and on the porch, a grimness to his features that was as close to Jax got to sympathetic. That explains the sniffing.

- - -

xxxxxJax barely reached the bar on time, but he had been working there for a few years now, and frankly he'd done worse. It was still early in the morning, so he contented himself with slicing fruits and preparing a few appetizers that would keep well until later in the day when people were ordering them. It was a routine, now, and while he wasn't particularly a "routine" kind of guy, he'd always been quick in the kitchen, and the cute morning waitresses flitting about the space didn't hurt, either. When he tired of answering flirtatious smiles from the newer girls and receiving irritable glances from the seniors, he went back to mulling over his potential new plan of action. Now, he was a violent man... a very violent man, but he wasn't about to kill to scare them off... yet. No, killing was reserved for special cases. Like when he needed to prove a point. Luckily, no one had tried to disprove any of his points yet, so for the sake of everyone else involved, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. So, no, no one was going to really disappear. He could try making some growling noises from the woods, but that was a risky move, given Constance's idiot excuse of the day.
xxxxxA wide-eyed glance caught his eye, and as he looked up at his manager's expression, he realized he had been chopping the apple a bit inhumanly fast. "Did you get a haircut?" He questioned, tilting his head to the side and allowing a lock of dark hair to flop across his forehead as he gave a charming grin. "It looks great. Really accents your cheekbones." At her quirked eyebrow, he chuckled. "No, I'm serious! You have great bone structure, Jenna, what can I say?" A slight blush colored her cheeks and she shook her head with an embarrassed, secretly-pleased laugh. "Get back to mauling that apple." She chuckled and returned to her office in the back. Humans. He thought with a shake of his head. Honestly, if he were ugly, nothing like that would slide as cute in the least.

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[daices.]

☾ SUZY ☾
〘 location ↠ her bakery > forest | feeling ↠ excited | tagged ↠ mav 〙
“ my eyes wide open, fallin' in and out of focus ”
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"I'm telling you, Mav; even folktales come from somewhere." Maybe she was dumb for being so superstitious, but there was always an inkling of truth somewhere in there; not to mention that it hadn't exactly failed Suzy up til this point. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

Suzy's eyes positively gleamed with excitement when Mav walked to the door. "Hold on!" Quickly tearing off her apron and grabbing her backpack resting against the counter, Suzy started towards the door for a second before pausing. "Ah... But my shop..." She mumbled. "Whatever! We're closing early today." Quickly -and a bit haphazardly- Suzy went around and cleaned everything, wiping down the counters with a few sharp swiped and sweeping like her life depended on it. She was on her way to her adventure of a lifetime; why would she wait?

Grabbing a couple pastries on her way out, Suzy clung onto Mav's arm for a second, practically hopping as she rocked eagerly on the balls of her feet. "Let's go, let's go!" She crowed, quickly flipping the sign from 'open' to 'closed', and locking the door with a merry jingle of keys.

As they drew closer to the woods, Suzy could feel... Something crawling up her spine. Call her a wackjob, but it was like the energy in the air changed; it was concentrated, somehow, or perhaps just more intense; the foliage loomed in front of her, tall and intimidating, the few trails through the national park quickly getting swallowed up by the trees. Looking at the scenery, Suzy was quickly reminded that she had never really gone beyond city life, her upbringing in the bustling metropolis that was Shanghai giving her little room or time to explore the intricacies of rural, or even suburban, life.

What if she died? God, what if both of them died? Suzy couldn't live with someone's death on her hands. What if she died before she got to see her parents again? That would be even worse. As the paved streets slowly gave way to gravel, and then dirt, Suzy tugged on Mav's sleeve, compelled to drop her voice to a whisper. "We won't die, right? These werewolves will be benevolent?"

A ridiculous question, for sure; for all she knew, these werewolves had just killed a girl, or at least kidnapped her. She really should have brought more than two pineapple buns, a flashlight, and a change of clothes. Suzy thought longingly to her chef's knives, mostly used to chop ingredients but now looking extra enticing. "Or, well- I'm sure we'll be okay. The spirits in these woods will protect us."

[welter]

█│⸎║ ── 𝐑 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍 ─ ⚜ ─────────────── ─ ─ ─ ─ ─╶╶╶

A vacuum-like silence crept up on Robin as she watched Constance down her bourbon, proceed to extract herself from the couch and stalk over with steps that simultaneously managed to be coordinated and anything but; it was as if her legs moved before the thought reached her mind, only to arrive right as the sole of her foot was about to meet the floor. If there was one thing she could gather from it without digging too deep, the woman had made a habit of looming over people, and if Robin could have made one suggestion, she would have told her to re-examine her definition of personal space, although her feelings on whether she wanted to do so were quite mixed ─ for several reasons, a considerable part of them professional. There was a force around her; she moved and the world around her shifted. It was instinct to step out of her way, but Robin didn't relent. She craned her neck to a degree that skirted the edges of embarrassing in order to pointedly stare at the jade that scrutinized her right back. Everything about that hollow smile was striking her wrong, and there was certainly something dangerous roiling beneath it, but she wouldn't give in. She held her ground as willfully as she held Constance's forceful gaze. What would it have said about her if she was willing to face her fate with a wolf, merely to run away from Constance Rivera?
indentinIt wasn't often that Robin found herself indecisive, much less stuck in a whirlpool of mixed emotion, and so when Constance took it upon herself to lean even closer, her resolve seemed to snap back into its rightful place. That was enough of that, whatever that exactly happened to be. Unhurried, she calmly capped the pen she had used to write her number across the back of the photograph, never taking her eyes off Constance as she proceeded to jab it into her sternum, pushing her back as gently as she could will herself to in the moment. It was far too early in the morning to have the same stranger lay their hands on you twice, whether that was the way it was going or not, but if she had to find a silver lining, it appeared her instinct had been correct the first time she had seen Constance through that bakery window. There was something incredibly intense simply about the way she existed, much less lorded her height over detectives who had had to prove themselves twice as hard in the academy merely to avoid ridicule.

Everything Constance said was delivered with a little jab. It was confrontational enough to notice, and to provoke someone cursed with thin skin, but faint enough to ignore for the sake of courtesy, although the line drawn between professional and less so seemed to blur in this cabin. What Robin could not say was whether it was all calculated. Her impression was that things drifted to Constance's view at the last minute, and she held onto them long enough to spit them out, before they would inevitably float by and she moved onto the next, but that wasn't the only degree of unpredictable she could pick up on ─ she wasn't someone to underestimate. Her words may have wandered, taking detours Robin would have cut across, but that were simultaneously integral to what she was saying, whether or not they needed to be said to get the message across. Frankly, Robin liked to consider herself different, if not the opposite, but it seemed there was a certain bluntness that they shared, even if it would have had to be the two sides of the same coin. Constance pulled far fewer punches; she was intense, while Robin ─ she was coolly open about the things on the surface. If she was working a case, she would ask if she needed to know, but the matters personal to her were hers, not the world's. Instead, whatever was Constance on a deeper level appeared to leak into each word she spoke, which wasn't a habit Robin was seeking to pick up on.
indentinYet what Robin was awfully familiar with was the way such surface-level openness worked. A great few would notice what was concealed, given she would not hesitate to ask about much, nor to do it as straightforwardly as possible without moving onto some form of shorthand. It was a wall of its own, to keep things beneath an exterior that appeared transparent. Maybe she would soon find out whether that was the case with Constance.

When the dark-haired man brushed past them to leave, Robin barely noticed ─ and she wasn't the type to be oblivious to her surroundings. In her chosen line of work, it would have quickly developed into a serious threat to her well-being. The force around Constance that demanded her attention had sucked her directly into its bubble, and inside of it, there was no space for anything other than what appeared to be increasingly leaning towards a quiet struggle of sorts. Robin now realized it was something she had attempted to extract herself from, first in the yard, and then by leaving, but she had circled right back in. Left her number, mentioned the search party. There was something there, about Constance, the man, Lars... frankly, it didn't matter. Someone was withholding something, and it didn't sit well with her. Whether it was related to the disappearance or not was an entirely different question. As much as she seemed to gravitate towards it as a detective, she didn't wish to begin digging around in what could turn out to be a familial matter blown out of proportion. It wasn't entirely impossible that she was allowing a hunch to lead her into reading signs that weren't there, or were something different entirely. She was missing vital pieces, but with the tension between the residents, the delinquent hanging out in their back porch, and the mystery of the wolf, it would have admittedly been easy to see signs where there were none, because they certainly were signs of something, but chances were, they had absolutely nothing to do with her case.
indentinBut Constance had just offered to act as her personal hiking guide, which would inevitably leave long stretches of what she foresaw to be tense silence, and if Robin happened to fill those gaps with a few well-placed questions, there would certainly be no harm in it. "North?" she repeated, considering the possibility and hastily cross-referencing it with everything she could remember about each of the maps she had pored over in the past three weeks. She let out a short hum, something between a noise of agreement and mild surprise. "Meet me at the park gates in-" she glanced at her watch, making a cursory estimate in her mind. "Ninety minutes." It wasn't a question nor a suggestion ─ either Constance would be there, or Robin would have to find another guide to lead her north. Strangely enough, she hoped this acerbic woman would show up.

And with that, Robin was finally out of the cabin. As she made her way down the driveway, two things happened quite simultaneously. Firstly, a sense of foreboding seemed to evaporate from where it had been clinging around her not unlike saran wrap, and secondly, the sight of the wolf lunging towards her began playing on a loop inside of her head. The feeling that crept up her neck and sank its hooks into her skin wasn't entirely coming from a place of distress. She was missing something. Each part of that dark, snarl-twisted face and its powerful body had been imprinted onto her brain, but she couldn't help feeling that she was glossing over some detail that she couldn't see due to the big, glaring wolf in the middle. The status of the animal wasn't entirely clear either; Constance claiming it was hers, the man behaving alarmed at the sight of it. Now that she thought about it, it could have been him attempting to protect her from a detective questioning the legality of owning one, which Robin did, but it was a risky move lying to an officer and putting the animal's life at risk, even when there had been no guarantee of her reacting any differently whether it happened to be a pet or not. Honestly, she didn't know whether she would have. All she had known was that there was a gigantic wolf staring her down, probably thinking she would have made a nice meal if she didn't put up much of a fight.
indentinThe variables were stacking up at an alarming rate that merely accelerated the more she thought about her short time on the property. Who was the young polyglot? She had clearly known the residents of the cabin, and they had known her. Did she live in the park as well? At the very least, it would make an interesting incident report to write, but that would have to wait.

Once she was off the driveway, out of the park and back on the rather comforting sidewalk of Oxbrook's main street, Robin reached into her pocket to fetch the handheld radio. The small rectangular screen had cracked down the middle.


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A group of varied volunteers stood scattered right beyond the gates of White Stag national park as a ranger droned on about the safety measures they would be taking to ensure the search party wouldn't end with another disappearance. The wind had picked up at the exposed entrance, but hopefully it would be softened by the trees further inside the park. Returning had carried an eerie undercurrent as the events of the morning still milled about in Robin's mind. She hoisted a light backpack onto her shoulder and pulled on a pair of gloves to finally shield her hands from the biting windchill. Fingers crossed, Constance Rivera would actually show up.


location; cabin > park entrance ─ tagging; Constance, Jax ─ mentioned; Lars, Eva ─ wc; 1,665

[welter]

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The usual worn dirt-trail leading into White Stag had been covered by a blanket of fallen leaves. It was far from a vivid palette of oranges and yellows ─ referring to the landscape as a shade of rust, or anything far beyond brown would have been generous. To Robin, it seemed more the color of dirt and decay with a certain wetness inherent to the season darkening each shade. The air smelt heavily of earth, with a bitter edge she couldn't fully assign to neither the weather nor the approaching winter. Frigid water had pooled where the ground naturally dipped, and created muddy patches, most molded into the shape of boot-prints. Deeper in, where the ground was less exposed and largely shaded by a dense canopy that still retained a part of its foliage, she could see the lively greens of summer peeking from underneath the decomposing layer. Moss crept over the roots of the trees, lodged itself into bark dampened by autumn rains, and crept up as far as it could manage. Vegetation sprouted where the brown path faded into the forest, unable to creep any further than where the undergrowth had bowed beneath determined feet; no longer able to resist the spreading of the persevering life that teemed in the wilderness.
indentindentDid you miss me? Did you miss me? Robin missed many things. She missed the warmth of a summer sun in the now gloomy sky above this nondescript small town, the feeling of acute determination stoked by a promising lead, and not having all of her shoes painted in every possible shade of mud. Whether she had missed the voice that in its pitch seemed a degree too light for its bearer, and gained the slightest, delicate hint of rasp at the gap between each clause; the voice with its edge of sharp, undying snark and something quieter she couldn't quite unravel ─ that was a question she wished she could have answered negatively while retaining some integrity. It wasn't that she had pressed it into her mind with even the smallest amount of conscious effort. Instead, it had lodged itself somewhere deep into her synapses, never asking Robin for permission, nor even a courteous passing comment. Robin's jaw tightened, and she scowled at herself, before turning to face the source of the voice with a practiced detachment. The air may have been as cold as it had been all morning, its worst edge possibly dulled by the approach of noon, but inside of her gloves, she could feel the sheet of sweat her palms had gained.
indentindentAlthough the comment itself seemed to have been meant to be equally as abrasive as everything she had uttered that morning, Constance's demeanor appeared to have moved away from the ambiguity and strict, unyielding graveness it had harbored earlier. Yet Robin did not dare to convince herself that she had been joking. Every word she had exchanged with her so far had felt like another round of an endless match of arm wrestling, but maybe she could turn it around into something more resembling cooperation. Not that she was awfully optimistic about it. "People usually crave a different kind of approval from an officer of the law, Mrs. Rivera," she replied, her gaze traveling up to regard the taller woman's features without needing much prompting, but it wasn't long before her eyes shifted past Constance and to the scene behind her. One of the police dogs, dressed in its inky vest, was fiercely tugging against the grip of the officer holding the leash. It seemed to be pulling after Constance. With the morning and the corresponding canine still fresh in her mind, Robin wouldn't have been too upset if its efforts proved unsuccessful. Her eyes turned back to Constance, and on the way, they took note of her choice of clothing. Nothing about it said "hike" to Robin, who had picked only the things she had found to be not awful during the other miserable, soggy days she had spent touring the area. And she may have added an extra sweater on top.

Before Constance had a chance to make her forget what they had come to do in the first place, Robin beckoned her over to one of the deteriorating picnic tables that must have already been grey and weathered for the better part of a decade. With the combined droning of the park ranger and the low hum of the crowd behind them, she unfolded a map, spread it across the damp surface, and began pointing out each of the locations as she explained. "The volunteers will be sweeping the marked trails and camping sites, while a couple of the rangers are heading out west into the valley. The hillside has eroded here, creating a few rocky lips and hollows. She might have taken shelter in one of them," she detailed, partially to sort her own thoughts out. Frankly, she wasn't sure if Constance cared in the slightest where the others were going, and chances were, she didn't need the places pointed out to her, either.
indentindentRobin lifted her gaze from the map and turned partially to survey the crowd of volunteers. "Miller!" she called out to the group, and a young man with sandy blonde, short-cropped hair emerged, eagerness shining from his blue eyes and the rosy hue brought to his cheeks by the nippy air. He was one of the junior officers, barely in his twenties and out of the academy. So far, he had spent his days manning the phones and answering inane questions from pushy reporters, but most of the time, he seemed happy to be there. Robin may have acted on the ulterior motive of not wanting to be led into the wilderness by the woman she had known for two hours at the most, and who had given her absolutely no reason to trust her, but she doubted that Miller cared. When she had asked him the join her for the park sweep, he had been overjoyed, and she wasn't certain if he was simply glad to step away from the desk for a while, or whether he was always like that. "This is officer Miller. Officer Miller, Constance Rivera," she introduced. Miller made a move to shake Constance's hand, but the effort was quickly halted when it was met with utter disinterest from the other. To prevent the silence from stretching into something uneasy, Robin returned to the map. "You mentioned a trail that separates from the marked route?"


location; park entrance ─ tagging; Constance ─ mentioned; --- ─ wc; 1,088
[ you're really just gonna call her out like this, huh ]

[welter]

█│⸎║ ── 𝐑 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍 ─ ⚜ ─────────────── ─ ─ ─ ─ ─╶╶╶

Robin's eyes abandoned the map once Constance's presence ─ something that had made itself known in the sphere of her perception ─ withdrew itself and departed towards the treeline bordering the entrance. She quirked an eyebrow at the gesturing, right before her mind fully abandoned her, as if the gears had slipped from where they usually interlocked so perfectly, and become lodged in a screeching halt, which wasn't a state either familiar or enjoyable to her. She may have had to fix her jaw back in its place from where the hinges had loosened. Baby bird? The words seemed to linger tangibly in front of her as an unshakeable blot, following her wherever her floundering mind attempted to find a path around it, as if she had stared at a bright light. There was a rather desperate attempt to find a retort, something to deflect the unexpected that had popped her concentration like a needle to a balloon, but she was drawing blanks. A faint burning crept up her neck and to her cheeks, reminiscent of leaning close to a blazing fire. It was mortifying how Constance managed to affect her this way, in what seemed to be an endless loop. That morning alone, she must have found herself flailing more times than she had during the entire time she had spent in Oxbrook.
IndentindentAfter what must have been a fraction of a second, but had felt closer to hours for Robin, her mind snapped back into its groove. She had certainly been correct in labeling Constance unpredictable, but the confirmation, having answered a single question, merely brought up more that drifted up akin bubbles of oxygen to the surface of Robin's mind as it rebooted. None of the things she could come up with as she watched Constance's back recede deeper into the woods would have been appropriate to say, so she remained quiet, settling on gathering the map and hurrying after her guide. As she stepped into the shade of the trees with Miller at her heels, she wasn't quite certain whether she could have articulated any of the emotions that flowed straight to her limbs and powered them with an impatient energy. Had Robin been in the habit of fidgeting, she would have.

Robin allowed the distance between herself and Constance to stretch, only occasionally glancing ahead to see the back of her jacket as she moved through the terrain with the sort of confidence that backed up her claim of knowing the area like the back of her hand. She didn't permit her attention to drift, instead choosing to take note of their surroundings. For a brief moment, there was a break in the trees on their left where the ground gradually sloped towards the valley and revealed glimpses of grey sky reaching lower amid the boughs. After that, the woods seemed to thicken with each step, until scraggly branches began to knit together and form the occasional wall of impenetrable thicket on each side, through which merely their lone trail carved a path. The occasional fallen log broke the vertical monotony created by the ones still standing, and the earlier blanket of leaves had scattered into a poorly executed mosaic laid out across the forest floor that held onto its summer hues, but even the canopy above could not keep out the rains that had left puddles of standing water in every notch and indentation. They were mirror-clear among the shelter of the undergrowth, their surface broken only by the decaying leaves floating by a reflection of the gloomy sky peeking past the breaks in the foliage.
IndentindentShe had had every intention of filling the silence with the questions weighing on her mind, but once Constance had practically darted into the forest, she had figured she would wait for some natural slackening in her pace, which she frankly seemed to have no desire to provide. Thus she didn't pay it much attention when she noticed Miller had drifted closer to Constance, appearing eager to strike up a conversation ─ in hindsight, she likely should have. Once Constance's tight tone reached her, it would have already been too late to interject and divert Miller to something more harmless. Robin hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help catching the tail end of her words, and from there on, she figured that tuning their exchange out would have left Miller alone to put himself into a situation that could only end badly. She hung back, but held onto each word exchanged with a growing sense of concern over the junior officer's choice of topic.

Wife. Robin should have known from the moment she had seen the ring. The barely perceptible pebble of disappointment forming itself in the pit of her stomach wasn't exactly welcome, nor expected, but it certainly hinted at some unfathomable reason why she hadn't simply checked once back at the station. Realizing Constance had stopped, Robin followed suit a few paces behind, assigning herself to regarding the pair with wary eyes and an indifferent facade of this is none of my business. Because it really wasn't, law enforcement or not; Miller and Constance appeared to know each other through their mutual acquaintance, and if he was intent on discussing his personal life, that was his decision. Yet Robin couldn't help grimacing internally as Miller pressed on and brought up having dated said wife in the past. It was becoming increasingly clear that he wasn't making great choices. The anger radiating from Constance had become practically visible, and even then, he seemed painfully oblivious to it. Frankly, Robin was beginning to severely regret her choice of partner for the day. The words she spat out next hit Robin as something far more jarring than she could have thought to prepare herself for. By now, maybe she should have known to only expect the unexpected from her. She had died. Her wife had died. Suddenly, and rather horrifically, by the sound of it. She took an instinctive step forward once Constance laid her hands on Miller. The conversation was beginning to boil over into an altercation, one she couldn't bring herself to blame Constance over. She readied herself to call out and break it off, but the words died in her throat once Constance whipped around and stormed off, leaving them with words so icy that they lingered to echo in her mind.

Not fully knowing why, she took off after Constance, brushing past Miller without a word. He seemed to take the hint, stalking a little ways off the trail, where he wouldn't have to face their guide's fury, but could still follow the path where it cut through the forest. She doubted he had meant for their conversation to go this way, but even he couldn't have been so naive as to believe having dated someone's dead wife in high school could have been something to bond over. Furthermore, how had she not known about this? A death as violent as hers seemed like something that would have shaken a small town enough for a newcomer to still feel the aftershocks.
IndentindentRobin had to push herself to keep up. Roots and rocks protruded from the ground, and at this pace, she kept having to glance down at her feet to make sure she wouldn't trip over them. If it weren't for the circumstances, she would have cursed Constance and those long legs. She seemed to be having no problem fuming and barrelling down the trail. Maybe she should have let her storm off. Again, it was none of her business. But she didn't. Instead, in what could have turned out to be an incredibly stupid move that Robin couldn't fully justify to herself, much less someone else, she reached out to take her gently by the wrist and pulled her to a halt, before dropping her hand as if she had been burned. Considering the anger still radiating from Constance, she wouldn't have been surprised if it truly had singed her fingers, even through her gloves and the fabric of Constance's jacket. She didn't shy away from seeking out her jade eyes, in spite of the way the look in them had managed to grow even more piercing than before. There seemed to be a new layer to her, at least in Robin's mind. It was something hurt beneath the prickly surface that tangled with the jabs and the vacant stares she would cast into the distance.
IndentindentOnly a part of her dared suggest she had only raced after Constance due to not wanting to get lost on an unmarked trail because her partner had decided to take a stab at idiocy. An accusatory voice drilled its way into her consciousness. It's like you don't even care. There were certainly times, the wrong times, she had chosen to keep herself at an arm's length when someone could have used a compassionate word. There were things she had kept to herself when they had begged to be shared, but couldn't quite prod their way out of her mind. As silly, and frankly, embarrassing, as it would have sounded spoken out loud, maybe this was an opportunity to prove she wasn't all those things she worried she had become when she didn't have a case to occupy her mind on a sleepless night. That she wasn't cold. Because logically, she knew she wasn't. Acting like it was another tangle of brambles to fight her way through. There had certainly been moments, places, where she had wished she could have sank into it, stopped feeling, but she also knew that it wasn't what she wanted. It was a stupid way to act.

Robin swallowed against the thickness that had suddenly seized her throat, but it did little to make it go away. There were many phrases they had been taught to offer to grieving family members, and she had repeated them so many times that they had begun to feel as empty as they must have sounded. I'm sorry for your loss. Grief is normal. Here's the number to a counselor. Constance didn't seem like the type to be comforted by false sentiments in the slightest, much less ones she must have heard a countless times before. She would see right through them, right through her, and so Robin would do her the courtesy of not mincing every word into worthless pulp. She bit at the inside of her cheek before finally speaking up. "I think Miller might be an idiot," she blurted, immediately grimacing at herself. "I- you have my number. If you ever want me to look into it, I will." She meant it. It sounded as if she was far from closure, and even if digging around in some old files would end up producing no results, maybe it would be useful. Help her feel as if she was doing something about it.
IndentindentShe wasn't given much time to mull over her clumsy choice of words, because right behind where Constance happened to be standing with her back to the copse of trees lining each side of the trail, something bright and unnatural peeked out from between the trunks that stood solemnly in their rows. Without another word, she dodged around Constance and waded into the damp vegetation covering every inch of the forest floor. It soaked the fabric of her pant legs, but right then, it was the least of her concerns. The trees thinned out, revealing a tent pitched into a small clearing that had been obscured by the thicket. Its flap had been left half-open to flutter weakly in the breeze. Robin stepped out of the brush and onto ground that had been tamped flat by the feet that must have frequented the now abandoned camp. A smoldering campfire was sputtering out the last of its smoke into the crisp air. She kicked some dirt onto it to smother the embers before they would be dealing with a wildfire.

A box of ammunition laid abandoned in the dirt, the open lid revealing only a few stray cartridges inside. .223, a rifle. Robin's right hand wandered to her holster, and she strode carefully across the clearing to pull open the flap of the tent with her left. Empty. She would have exhaled in relief, but the corner of a bottle green tarp sticking out from where it had been covered with dirt and debris made her lungs cling to that breath. Leaves peppered the wet canvas, plastered to it like they belonged. For a brief moment, the sickening feeling building itself up in the pit of her stomach informed her of a troubling possibility; that she would be uncovering the remains of Amilia Kennedy. Robin nudged the corner of the tarp from the dirt with the tip of her shoe, then reached with a gloved hand to pull it back. Her lungs finally released their grip on the oxygen they had been harbouring. It was a dead wolf. Limp, lifeless, blood-stained fur ruffled and sticking in every direction, with the exception of the dent the weight of the debris-covered canvas had pressed into its damp pelt. She had had the misfortune of seeing many dead beings, mostly of her own species, but the sight still managed to strike her as terribly wrong. It simply looked... wrong. Warped. With eyes staring at some distant place no one living could see. She was increasingly glad she hadn't shot that wolf in Constance's driveway.
IndentindentRobin pulled her eyes away from the sight, which felt like trying to tear something free of viscous tar, but she did eventually manage to turn around. Her gaze sought out Constance in the clearing. It was highly unlikely that she would have lead them to the area if she were aware of the poaching, much less condoned it, considering she owned a wolf herself ─ which still felt rather unreal to Robin. But now, she couldn't help wondering whether there was something more sinister than unpredictable wilderness involved in the disappearance of Amilia Kennedy. Had she wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, and gotten herself killed over something like this?
IndentindentA rustling to her right made Robin jerk her head in the direction. It was Miller, emerging from the thicket, looking as bewildered at the sight as Robin felt. "I'm fairly confident this isn't Ms. Kennedy's camp."


location; a sinister forest ─ tagging; Constance ─ mentioned; --- ─ wc; 2,400
[ constance ily I'm sorry about the dead wolf ]