⚶. 𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙢 » closed

[slaughter beach, dog]

────────────── 𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 ── ❞𝐀𝐑𝐈❞ ── 𝐄𝐊𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐃 ───── ● ──── ─ ─
──────────────────────────────────────────────── 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙇𝙋𝙃𝘼 ──── ─ ─

LOCATION; edge of the woods ─ TAGGING; Dimidian ─ MENTIONED; Audrey, Cora ─ WC; 1,758
──────────── NOTES; this post requires a note because * leans close to microphone * i will not be outgunned

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One of those hands she knew and trusted came to brush the underside of her chin with the delicate touch of a coasting bird's wing ─ a touch so light it could have been imagined ─ and Arden eagerly, without need to question, followed where it led. The current of a shiver traced her neck and doused her fear before it could spread, killed it right where it had sought to lay. A sunbeam of a smile, adoring and imbued with dawning joy, cleared away her confusion. Audrey. There was a grateful part of Arden that found itself indebted to the woman, for all the things she had given Dimidian ─ which had brought him to her as the man he was ─ and everything she imagined it had allowed him to give her in turn. The smile gained a playful edge at the scarce yet explanatory words that revealed much and gave colour to the outline that was the figure in his past.
indentinHis gentle question sobered Arden, returned her to the facts and grounded her in the reality beyond the rosy places he often took her. The forest floor whispered beneath her feet, and her arms fell into a slacker position, but she did not release the somewhat childish hold she had on his jacket. She carried a detailed and acute awareness of exactly how much this was to ask of someone, what it meant to let them assume that mantle and take on every responsibility that came with it, but there was frankly no one else she would have rather had by her side in this.
indentinYet even without the dark clouds that had clustered to hang over the roof of their forested home and its lands, the life of a beta would be trying and time-consuming, and she could see in him the touch of a wild being that valued freedom from constraints. There was a difference between choosing to stay somewhere and being bound there, and Arden would have rather taken every blow the pack's ties dealt her ─ for however many years she would have to ─ than be the one to pose the question that would lead to resentment growing between them. Dimidian could say no and she would not care for him any less than she did now ─ she would find a way to make it work, because losing him was one among the fears that were too daunting to grant a name.

indentinShe had gathered the words like flowers from a meadow, returned her eyes to the one she knew would hear out whatever it was that she had to say, but there was an embrace, a temperate ocean that grazed the horizon and fell to enfold her, that gently whispered to her that the question had been posed the moment she had made up her mind. She held on tighter to him, as if it was all that anchored her to these fog-kissed woods and kept her from drifting into the open azure. The veins of time extended, lay raw and opened, and hung suspended from every tendril of breath that became mist in the arms of the night. Her eyes were stuck on him, vulnerable and hopeful that he, too, saw the waters touch the light where they folded and refracted, the floating pillars a place to moor in this tempest.
indentinHis hands came to rest on her wrists, encircled them safely, and she knew he was there with her. There was a blank reel in her mind, engraved with the single phrase that it would never tire of repeating. I need you. Her hands were being moved and she leaned into their path, followed with a vibrant heart, and at the end of it she found a pulse singing beneath her fingertips, constant and reassuring. It strummed out messages she could not decode ─ the sounds that were not the notes or the melody that was played, but the unguarded sounds of the shifting of the keys themselves ─ but she would listen. She would always listen. Her eyes closed and she welcomed the press of his forehead against her own, indulged in everything the extension of his touch expressed, soaked it into herself. There was something that was not another feeling washing over her, but the absence of one, an unburdening. The ocean receded into the fog, the trees reclaimed their vigilant rows.
indentinThe words he whispered, exposed, tender, and Dimidian, unfettered her heart and launched it into its own desperate song, one that moved her, a million at once and their gestalt, the wind in the quivering leaves. You make me safe, you make me better, you make me whole, you... I love you, I love you, I─ He withdrew, washed her in cold water, turned her thoughts from opaque haze to the clear reminder that he did not mean it the way she had once hoped he might. Arden prised her fingers away from his heartbeat, because she was burning, this was fire, and it was wrong, and it was dangerous. Her palms craved something else to hold and she draped an arm across herself, held on tightly to the one that hung slack at her side; always too transparent of a tell.

indentinBut everything stirred again, kicked up into a tumult like silt at the bottom of a pond, when Dimidian wound his arms around himself, the gesture both vulnerable and defensive, because it was her that had come close to toeing a line that could not be uncrossed, not him. His words drew her brows into another furrow, had her rewinding everything moment by moment, the way they had been branded into her mind and her hands. Dimidian turned his head toward the sky and she lost access to the window of his eyes. She missed them the moment they lifted, those eyes that never placed weight on her and carried her across oceans tides above dark waters.
indentinAn image from all those years ago came to her, painted the inside of her head in the colours and hazy golden light of a summer day in the garden. The blueberry bushes entrusted to their care, the dirt, and him by her side, an orienting point marked on a map otherwise wiped clean. The way her grief had made her stiff and cold and lost, until he had made her laugh, shattered every fragile and lifeless wall with such ease. He had had her growing a field of white roses across a hillside that had been scraped sheer and bare. It had sowed the seeds of something, crafted some small vulnerable thing that she had sheltered and carried with her, but it had been too soon then, and now it seemed far too late. Her love had blossomed into something more since then, something strong and fearless, the safe love she would never have to fear, even with the scar tissue that had grown and tightened around her heart.
indentinBut returning there, peeling back the petals to the core they had grown around, the beginning of it all, was a thought steeped in the fear of loss. Had she assumed, read the words wrong the way only whispering them in the woods on a cold autumn night could make her, she would trample everything, say the wrong thing and ruin something she could not afford to lose. Arden did not want her life to be defined by loss and the fear of it, she wanted to dive head first into the rapids, pull water deep into her lungs and surface anyway, but she could not. She had taken this love and carried it too far in the other direction to destroy it.
indentinHe could not have meant it that way. She had called him those things to Cora, because that was what she believed they both wanted. Cora. The forest Arden knew sprawled itself around her but she was standing in a rip tide, the merciless grip that wrenched her away, tore her in two. This was exactly where she needed him, why she needed him as what he had been to her all these years. Let sleeping dogs lie.

indentinArden swallowed down everything, all of it, and stepped toward him with the caution of a gentle wind bending a sapling it did not want to break. He doesn't need to know. You can love him this way, the way he wants you to, and you do. Arden reached out gently, because she needed him to know that he had done nothing wrong. The arches of her palms teased the fringes of his beard and her fingers sunk into the safety of the hair at the nape of his neck. She cradled his head with the same care of his touch on her wrists, and she guided his eyes back down to her from the frightening and breathless distance of the night sky. She was breaking every willing rule she had set, but she needed him not to slip away before he understood that she would give him everything she could, and she would never allow him to be ashamed of that. Please don't shut me out.
indentinShe could not stop herself from allowing her eyes to flicker down to his lips, to steal a single image the length of a lone blink, before she would bury that path for good. When his forehead had rested against hers, it would have been so effortless to kiss him, nothing more needed than a breath uplifting a leaf already at the mercy of the zephyr. When she drew the smile onto her lips, she feared it would not light up her eyes with sunlight and cheer, and she knew he would see directly through that, but the fondness there was real ─ that she allowed to remain.
inden"If you believe I could ever think that, then I'm afraid I really do have a fool for a beta," she teased softly with something so raw it could not touch the air, even while the blood packed into her heart and refused to flow as it should. It was not a want but a need to brighten his mind, lighten his heart, yet every word tamped the feelings deeper, further. She fixed the smile onto her face, even when every show of pretence aimed at Dimidian had her swallowing down knives. Her hands were numb, they had to be.
inden"I want to hear out the pack before sharing the news. Would you come with?" Please.

[phayraoh]

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𝘈𝘜𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘠 𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘋─────────❝ staring into blackness at some distant star. the thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are ❞
thirty yrs ▪ she/her ▪ fighter-to-be
location: bonfire | tags: erika | mentions: dimidian
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--indent--Audrey bit her lip in an attempt to restrain the melodious bout of laughter that came parading up her throat. How joyous it was to have already taken a chip out of the stony countenance of this woman, to catch a glimpse of something smoldering behind, embers still breathing beneath ash of a spent fire. "Ah, sorry to startle you," she replied, though the glimmer in her eyes suggested she was unapologetic of her actions.
--indent--In the time it took for an answer to come her way, Audrey fetched two beers from the cooler, setting one at the foot of the other girl's chair as she settled back into her own. 'Sit straight, Audrey.' She kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up, sitting to the side with her knees pointed to her night's interest. She brought her sealed drink up to her lips and popped the cap off with her teeth, letting it fall twirling into her lap. 'That's enough to drink, Audrey.' An elbow on the armchair kept her propped up while her other hand clutched the beer. The water-beaded lip of the bottle hovered just above her mouth before she took a long drink, her pale throat bathed softly in the glow of the flames. Everything burned: her face, chest, eyes, nose. She would have preferred whiskey over this, a fan not of loud, carbonated demise but velvety intoxication cradled in crystal and light-marbled ice cubes smoothed by a bourbon tongue.
--indent--Erika. The name bounced around Audrey's head. She'd known one of those once, and was content to replace her with this one. "Audrey Holland is pleased to make your acquaintance," she offered, staring at the flames, drinking her beer, breathing in the smoke and ripping batteries from the detectors. "Know her long enough and she'll call you many things."
--indent--Audrey hadn't had much reason to believe in fate; she'd been born into a world of control, one where every act and decision was made for her. Move the herd to the north pasture tomorrow. Here's your dress for Mayor Caldwell's gala Friday night. Make sure Gray calls the Olsen's about their mare. She drank again, drowned out the voice of her father pulling at her strings, sedating her with a life few were privileged to have, doping her up on grueling work and maintaining a name so that she would never have the time or percipience to consider dissent. It was a dystopia and she'd loved it, parts of it, because there were parts of it to love: her mother, her father's study, the cool keys of ivory beneath her practiced fingers; the ranch hands and their scratchy beards, teaching her how to swear and play Texas Holdem, Gray and his happy-go-lucky grin, eternally covered in dust from being bucked off a horse; her gelding, Roanoke, and her potbelly, Benny. Dimidian. There was much to cherish but too much to hate, now that she had been freed of her muzzle and veiled blindfold.
--indent--The years had changed her, kindled a spite and resentment that she was itching to nurse into a raging wildfire. Dimidian had never given her the spark, only the knowledge of what had been hidden from her. Her beer was empty. Audrey rested the vacant bottle on her knee, felt the chill of the water clinging to its glass hide bite a rounded mark of teeth into the fabric of her jeans. Fate could only exist in the absence of architecture. Fate had brought her here, where she needed to be, with a person she suspected could help her do it and another who would stop her if she went too far.
--indent--"Save enough of those thoughts to share with me, and I'll return the favor." Audrey's head swung over to meet Erika's fleeting glance. There was no denying that the attention made her chin lift a breadth higher. She'd holed up in many bars during her travels, stealing women and breaking the hearts of men. The neon-washed buildings had been the playground for her fledgling sexuality, solidifying what she'd grown suspect of in her last months with Dimidian. Erika was a tempting endeavor in more ways than one, dangerous as a towering overlook and just as gorgeous. Or was she the glowing sun lighting it all from above? Burning and biding time until she reigned blazing inferno upon all in her path, scorching Audrey's silken wings to ash, consuming her in fire before her body could lie broken on the stones. It was a fate she was willing to accept, if only to feel the winds of freedom beneath her, the gravitational pull of something that breathed awake a kindred flame begging for oxygen and something to ignite.
--indent--"I'm famished, but happy to share if you change your mind." Audrey set her bottle down and delicately placed her feet to the ground, her movements evoking a past in Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky as she strode past the fire to dish up the stew laid out on the table. She let her empty bottle slide into the plastic trash bag dangling from the table's side and made her way back to her seat, procuring another drink before she sat back down. "You haven't been changed for long, have you?" she said bluntly, though her tone promised she intended neither pity nor contempt. The peeking scars glaring up from Erika's skin were telling of an incident common to most bitten wolves' past, and something human still clung to her. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine...later." A mischievous grin spread across her lips, ephemeral and dying as she spooned a mouthful of stew into her mouth. The flavor sang across her tongue and she immediately took another bite, closing her eyes as a sound of pleasure hummed in her throat. How did any of these people stay trim with food like this?
--indent--When her bowl was cleaned, she donated the paper dish to the fire and set to work on her second beer. Her eyes drooped in comfort, her stomach more full than it had been in days, the fire and the alcohol warming her blood. She'd missed this, sitting around, enjoying one another's company, flirting and swapping stories. Affection for Dimidian swirled in her chest; Audrey was happy he had found some place to rest. She'd always been afraid he would be content to spend his life losing himself without ever really finding anything. But this...this was good. It appeared to be, anyway. For now, Audrey would drink and pretend that it was always a good idea for several young werewolves of no relation to be packed under one roof. Yes, drink and court this melancholic, thistly woman.

[I'm done delete me.]

𝔸𝕃𝔼𝕏𝕀𝔸 ℝ𝕀𝕍𝔼ℝ𝔸 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
[ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏,𝟐𝟎𝟖 ]

xxx [ 𝟐𝟒 ] [ 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 ] [ 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 ] [ 𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐎 ] [ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: Caster | 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Mid, Dutch ]
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The guilt of eavesdropping on Dutch and Mid was overwhelming for her, how foolish can she be to listen in to a conversation that they were having in private. All she wanted was to seek help from Dutch but instead, she's probably never going to seek help from him again. Would he be will help her after this? Of course not. Remembering the faces after the door had opened to her, their faces were disgusted by her actions and well she was. She was asking herself why she did it, why didn't just walk away? It made her think of herself as an awful person, was there no good in her? Why did she have to stay and listen to them both? She was sure the respect for her was gone, she will have to earn it back if she was to return to the pack which had played on her mind.

Many questions raced her mind and she thought of the worst for what the outcome may be. The redhead was sick to the stomach as her anxiety got the better of her and her mind is clouded by the thoughts of what may arise if she was to return to the pack.

Sickened with the thought of going back to the pack will Dutch and Mid tell the others of her disloyalty? The thought of fleeing did occur to her but still, something within her was telling her to stay. The way that Mid forced her to shift reminded her of her stepfather that once beat her until she would shift. He had left a scar on her body to which she would show no one, nor would she tell anyone about her past.

She couldn't get it out of her head, she whimpered in her slumber. Her claws dragged against the earth as she became overwrought in a dream that kept playing in her mind the faces of Mid and Dutch the hurt she had caused towards the two. It was more of a nightmare than anything. The more she was indulged in the dream she couldn't relieve tension. There she felt the muzzle of another, she woke up with a sudden yelp thinking that Mid had come back to take more of his anger out on her. But there she saw the youngest of the werewolves Caster.

Her head lifted by his muzzle she looked towards searching his eyes for he may have been out here for exactly. Did he find out what she had done and now coming to question her but from what she understood he was clueless towards her mistake. It seemed Mid and Dutch were still keeping it on the down-low, whether it'll stay like that she was unsure. Though with a secret like that she was sure no one was supposed to hear it as it may cause a dilemma within the pack. If they were to find out about Dutch's past then there may be two sides to the pack if there was judgement to be made.

Hearing his voice in her mind, she huffed the white vapour flared from her nostrils she felt humiliated to say in front of a werewolf so young that he already had accomplished so much from shifting. In some situations, she had seen him struggle but he had more control than her. "Yeah... I'm kind of struggling to..." She confessed to him embarrassed to tell the young wolf. Watching as he collapsed down beside her, nosing to her neck in an act of comfort towards her she nuzzled the young wolf and laid her head on his neck as she closed her eyes. Listening to the heartbeat of the youthful wolf that laid with her. It had helped her relax in a way also taking attention to his breathing as well. Feeling his body rise and fall to every breath he took.

Soon all the tension in her body faded along with the fur, tail and ears. It was painful shifting back though she returned to her human state. Sitting up she stretched her arms up above her head with a groan "thank you Caster" she said to the wolf that had to help her through her shift. Looking at him with a smile on her lips, she still could smell the burning wood that was coming from the pack's grounds. Alex found herself hungry after not eating all day. This morning she was put off breakfast after learning about the murder that was placed fault on a creature that was not yet been discovered. Though the scent of rabbit hit her snout which she found herself upset that the pack was eating rabbit yet again. Although Alex didn't mind them eating it she knew she had to find food for herself, she wasn't in the mood to make anything this evening after everything that had happened. Perhaps tonight she will skip food overall.

"We better head back... It's getting late" she told the boy as she rose to her feet. Something was tugging her back to the cabin though she had intentions of running it seemed like she was pulled back by something unearthly. The smell of something sweet then turned her attention away from the smell of rabbit that she would refuse to eat under any circumstances due to having a childhood rabbit named flopsy that was her best friend. There she could smell the familiar scent of s'mores being made by the fire. Toasted marshmallows between crackers along with chocolate made her stomach ache, she wanted the treat but she could see Dutch by the campfire. Her stomach rumbled unsure what she might do.

It was a battle with her stomach and her head. She sighed and glanced to Caster "thank you again Caster but I think I'll retire for the night" she notified the boy before looking to the cabin and making her way over hoping no one would notice that she won't be joining them tonight. However, it did go through her mind whether anyone had noticed that she hadn't joined them?

Picking up where she had left her blanket, she walked up the stairs of the porch and into the cabin. Stepping inside the cabin was silent throughout it seemed the pack were all gathered outside having their feast by the fire. Alex trailed up the stairs to her room. Closing the door behind her she flung the blanket to the end of the bed before collapsing onto the comfort of the mattress. Digging out her phone she saw her brother still hadn't answered back to her message, she then decided to call him. Lifting it to her ear, it had gone straight to voice mail. "Hey... Umm, I just need to talk to you. I could use your help... Anyway call me when you hear this... bye" she shut the phone off and placed the phone downside her on the bed. She sighed looking to the ceiling as she tried to clear her mind from today's events. It wasn't enough that she almost went all wolf in the cafe but now this, this tops today. Losing trust from the two members of the pack unsure whether they'll ever forgive her for what she has done.

[eleutheromania]

𝐘𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐝𝐚 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 "𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛"

he/him | nineteen | hunter | location:woods > bonfire | mentions: - | tags: alex
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it wasn't long before the steady rise and fall of her sides indicated that she was beginning to relax. the young wolf could feel the tension release itself and not long after he could hear the snapping and popping of bones as they rearranged themselves. he turned his haze gaze upward as he was met with a now human alex. a triumphant wolfish grin crossed his features at her thank you and caster pushed himself upward to his own paws, careful of his previous injury from this morning. he didn't change with her though, instead, he stayed in his four-legged form as he walked beside her towards the smell of burning wood and the others. yehuda wasn't keen on going towards the fire itself but he knew she needed some sort of company for the time being until she was ready to do whatever it was she needed.

he was slightly surprised when she thanked him again and then stated that she would be retiring for the night. he looked at her questionably before giving her a simple nod and glancing towards the rest of the pack. his hazel gaze once again landed on the pot of stew, though he didn't dare go near it. seeing as he was on the outskirts of everything going on, he sighed and sat back on his haunches.

the shift didn't come easy, especially with something around that made him uncomfortable. it took a little more effort than usual to push back the wolf and soon the pain associated with the shift occurred. beads of sweat covered his forehead as he took a deep inhale. grabbing the end of his tee, he used it to wipe his face, and then his gaze turned to alex's receding form as she headed into the cabin. it was then that his stomach growled but yehuda would not make his way towards the flames that licked at the air around it. he huffed, leaning back against a nearby tree, sticking mainly to the shadows that seemed to surround him as he kept his distance.

he could smell the foul stench of alcohol already and it made him scrunch up his nose. caster was never fond of the smell and wondered how any of them could stomach it. he didn't understand the want, let alone the need, to want to water down your senses and logic. the whole idea of it all was just foreign and to him, irresponsible. yehuda was slightly judgy with the topic, probably because he hadn't gotten to that point in life where drinking would either be a crutch to forget or just to feel good. in caster's mind neither would ever occur. he crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees as he watched the pack from his safe distance, away from the fire of death.

he rested his head against the rough bark of the tree, inclining his head upward as he gazed towards the stars. it was a quiet night, of course, if you took away the crackling of the flames and chatter coming from that same area. slowly closing his eyes, he let his senses of everything surrounding him. the steady chirp of the crickets to the sounds of little rodents padding around in the night. this was far more peaceful than being inside a room, another thing that caster still didn't understand. laying out under the stars and being surrounded by mother nature was more pleasing than being enclosed by four walls.

not your average kid, that was usually what summed up yehuda when it came to the pack. of course, he didn't see some of his pack members, and the few others were already huddled in their little groups. he yawned and turned his attention back to those surrounding the area around the bonfire in the little cheap chairs. he wouldn't be going over there, he was more content in his little spot where he could not be held responsible for anything that the others decided to do once they ended up intoxicated if they already weren't. of course he would only help them get back into the cabin if that ended up being the case, but otherwise, he stayed as far as possible from all that to avoid any uncomfortable social interaction.

"maybe i could just blend into this tree and no one will notice. probably just go get the stew once the fire is out and go about my night," he muttered to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, this time it was starting to fall in his face,the strands had come loose over time.

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𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎
𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

[kopfkino]

𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

( ♛ ) ── ❝ 𝘋𝘜𝘛𝘊𝘏 𝘚𝘏𝘌𝘗𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘋 ❞

( 26 years old ) ─ ( male ) ─ ( omega ) ─ ( near bonfire pit ) ─ ( twisted up inside ) ─ ( sao, cora; alex, august (mentioned) )

indentation Dutch merely flicked an ear, angling to better catch Sao's quiet voice as she apologized for not noticing his approach. He couldn't verbally respond and wasn't interested in hosting conversation anyway, and it didn't seem that Sao actually minded as she lapsed back into silence. He settled himself directly to one side of her wheelchair, half-leaning his lean frame against the wheel in such a way that it was easy for Sao to reach him if she so chose. And the temptation won out, for he soon felt warmth interrupt that absence of heat one felt everywhere that wasn't facing the flames. She wasn't quite touching him and then suddenly her fingers were lightly burrowing among the stiff guard hairs on the ruff of his neck. His skin crawled at the touch, an unbridled fear writhing that forced a soft warning growl out of him. It was a quiet sound of displeasure, lips drawing back in the beginnings of a snarl that Sao couldn't see, but it was smothered quickly as her fingers burrowed further.

indentation A tether seemed to break within Dutch. The growl was cut off with some quiet, strangled sound and his weight sank heavier against her chair as he leaned in earnestly this time. The tension that made the rippling muscles in his shoulders coil and twitch with preparation to flee bled away; he would have swayed had he not been leaning against the chair, grounded by Sao's hand smoothing the fur between his shoulder blades. The silver-streaked wolf let out a heavy sigh that ended on a light sneeze. He kept his eyes trained on the fire, afraid that if he moved any further, that momentary illusion of security would crumble and he'd be reminded that he wasn't allowed this anymore.

indentation He could see movement far past the edges of the group as someone skirted the bonfire, body language slinky as if they meant to go unnoticed. He could just see Alex as the flames flared up brightly. Her body language was rigid, a clear sign of avoidance. Was she avoiding Dutch or was she avoiding another run-in with Dimidian? He wasn't going to press it, didn't have the desire to try to untangle the complicated mess of emotions that he'd forced down before coming outside. Instead, he allowed himself to shift his attention back to the fire, watching the way the embers seemed to breathe, flaring and dimming like a wild thing. Conversations fell to a background buzz as Dutch's muscles continued to slacken beside Sao's chair.

indentation The fire's breathy growl, combined with the bright pops, crackles, and occasional hisses reminded Dutch that the fire was alive in its own way. Fire was life and it was death. Had a bonfire not marked the death of his old life, content and free-wheeling ways brought crashing down? Mesmerized by the flames, he was simultaneously in Pine Knob and back at Cyrus's family cottage a few years ago. The scent of beer, hoppy and warm and lazy, and tree sap hissing as a log split in the tremendous heat of the fire. A loud laugh and good-natured arguments. Dutch could all but feel the hard, plastic chair that he'd been lounging in, long legs extended toward the firepit, nursing a beer that he occasionally swirled and sipped while trading affectionate insults with friends.

indentation They'd run out of beers outside and Cyrus had pleaded with Dutch to fetch more. The fridge was just inside, it'd only take a moment to grab a fresh round for the boys. Except there'd been a miscount, because there were only three beers left, not four. He'd rooted around for a little longer before brushing it off. He'd make do without a fourth or fifth or whatever number he was meant to move on to. He'd just been thrilled to gather with his group of friends again. Cyrus had been so busy with learning the duties of a good alpha that he'd rarely been away from his father's side for two months. He carried them carefully in one hand, fingers curling around the bottlenecks like some demented, alcoholic version of Wolverine, and stepped back out into the fire's embrace, using his free hand to drag the screen door closed behind him. He'd been momentarily stumped to see all three of his friends had abandoned their chairs, but as his eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, he heard a soft growl behind him, Cyrus standing tall, flanked on either side by two snarling wolves.

indentation Dutch blinked the echoes of Cyrus's voice out of his head, eyes reflecting a similarly lively and merry fire. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, reprimanding him with each pulse that he'd messed up for letting his guard down. The overwhelming sense of someone else in his space other than Sao made him snap his head up, coming nose to nose with Coraline in wolf form. A wave of horror jolted through him, dread offering another strong kick to his stomach as he scrambled back a pace or two. His teeth flashed involuntarily but dropped a heartbeat later as Cora flopped down on the unoccupied side of Sao's chair, clearly disinterested in continuing a replay of the worst night of Dutch's life. He stood stock-still for a few heartbeats more, blue eyes narrowed while he analyzed his options. He'd likely startled Sao in his violent lurching and the softest of whines whistled at the back of his throat before he could cut it off. In an effort to make peace, he took a step back toward the chair, nose hesitantly bumping back into Sao's hand in the clearest possible request for more pets.

indentation There was an odd sense of shame and guilt in his moment of neediness. Between that, the absolute anxiety of letting his guard down for a moment, and the sheer relief and bliss of physical touch, everything felt unreal. He was simultaneously more relaxed and more on edge than he'd ever been in his entire life, dying to flop over on his side to bask in the warmth of the fire and the urge to flee like there were snapping jaws still at his ankles. Frustration welled up within, threatened to take his breath away, but exhaustion tamped it down again. Later, later. He didn't have the frantic energy to display the twisting emotions crashing through his skull. Cora's head was down on her paws, eyes on the fire in a pensive manner that he envied. How did it feel to enjoy the fire without having to parse through bad memories with care? Or did she too have some internal battle going on that quieted her mood?

indentation Eventually, the occasional carding of Sao's fingers through Dutch's fur began to make his skin crawl again and he pushed himself up, bumping his nose against her trailing hand in some sort of gesture of....thankfulness? Farewell? He wasn't sure, but it seemed the only way to communicate his departure appropriately before he carried himself past the edge of the bonfire. He felt the need to move, realizing that the exhaustion weighing on his mind wasn't as physical as he had allowed himself to think it was. He didn't think that a run through the woods was going to accomplish the purging of energy that he desired, and he no longer felt the need to hit things or destroy. Instead, he turned his thoughtful gaze on one of the newest faces at the campfire. Not the stranger crackling with mischief beside Erika, but the shadow near August's side.

indentation Dutch dwarfed Kody in size and he kept his movements cautious as he approached, reading the dog's body language for signs of fear or aggression. Surely dogs presented their body language in the same manner that the werewolves did? It was a calculated risk that he was taking, allowing a few low and friendly swings of his tail. How else did one assert I am no threat, I want to be friends as a wolf? He'd never had to struggle to be liked before, always belonged, and this was in a realm beyond that. He didn't think that words would have the same impact on a dog that body language would. Today was just the day to take risks, wasn't it?

[slaughter beach, dog]

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LOCATION; campfire ─ TAGGING; Audrey ─ MENTIONED; -- ─ WC; 1,350

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*


Erika hummed, chased the beer from the bottom of her bottle and set it, empty, in the grass.
inden"I'm sure you are," she purred, partly to herself, and draped her body more comfortably across her chair, as much as the hard plastic's volatile stability allowed, as she sank into the lie of normalcy. It loosened her tongue, bathed it in silver and diction. The target of her curiosity fetched another round of bottles from the cooler and Erika no longer hid the way she watched her come and go, made it clear that she had seen the line cast, the flash of the hook in the light, and she would swallow every bait voluntarily.
indentinShe raised a brow at the bold way this girl opened her beer, settled on cracking her own against the firepit's stones the way she had done before, then vividly imagined the press of those lips against the damp glass. There was a mental note made that she held things with an unusual elegance to the arc of her fingers, striking and out of place in the nuances possessed by the image of small town Pine Knob within Erika's mind.
inden"Does this Audrey Holland often speak of herself in third person?" she probed, mapping out the edges of how far she could push, where she might find a nerve to avoid if she wished to keep this voice in her ears as the novel and mellifluous notes blending into the melody of the crackling fire. An unfinished idea of Audrey was beginning to take shape in her mind, its lines implying that she would be difficult to fully grasp and define, and it merely incited the intrigue.

indentinThe mention of what they were, what she had wanted to forget, almost had Erika choking on her beer for the second time that night, but she forcefully swallowed the painful lump in her throat. Her eyes veered toward her own lap, the drink in her hands and her fingers fidgeting with the bottle. Then she drank deliberately, slowly, but enough to numb the alarm and keep her distance from the edges of the wound, even when she would speak words that turned the knife with zeal.
inden"You don't beat around the bush, do you? Don't tell me you're an expert and looking to tutor me," she cracked, wrapped the line carefully in a cellophane made of banter, but it intended to dismiss, misdirect the conversation and keep hidden everything she had decided should remain unseen. She would not say it out loud, leak the drop of poison that would sour the atmosphere, but if Audrey never were to see her as the other, foreign form that had been forced on her, she could live with it. In fact, she would prefer it, revel in it, feed the delusion until she would lose touch with reality.

indentinThey were two ordinary humans, playing the game that existed solely in the shadows pleated among the light cast by a campfire, or possibly one foot off a precipice leaning over sharp and sea-bitten shoal. What she had experienced in the woods during a fleeting moment between glass in her skin and teeth in her pelt had been a fluke, the kind of lie she did not want. The cool air of the settling night laved at her arms and wrists with soothing strokes, but she bristled and pulled down her sleeves, flashed her teeth at the wrong type of comfort that threatened to peel back armour and expose something vulnerable.
indentinEverything was hanging by a single thread, the sword of Damocles above the throne, but that horse's hair was her human skin, and there were things she could not hide if she were to exchange it. Touch this vein of emotion now, sink your fingers into the coursing waters of the river, and discover consuming destruction that would lacerate a scar through Pine Knob.
indentinA voice swept past her ear, toyed with her and frayed the intricate fiction she had weaved. It was a dead voice, proposing that she could use company with that beer, a nightmare bleeding into waking hours and eating up the shores of the strait left over from a place she could escape from it. Cold claws of dread ran along her spine, ghastly and burning at once, and Erika cast an unnerved glance over her own shoulder. She found no one standing there, and deep down she had known that to be true all along. Her knee found its restless rhythm and her heel silently stamped the grass as she attempted to shake the feeling, but it lingered, spread its macabre and cold fingers along the skin of her sides. Crude words stung the tip of her tongue, but she returned her eyes to the fire and hoped not to draw any more attention to the lapse in her sanity than she already may have. You're a living red flag with its edges on fire.

indentinErika sought solace, the controllable comfort that she understood, from her beer, emptied the bottle, and the contents streamed right into the burning settling within her, fueled it. It had something inside of her bending, becoming twisted and warped, like trees exposed to the heat of a raging wildfire. Facing it had not worked, neither had ignorance, so maybe she needed to drown it out, fill her ears with louder, far more violent noise. Erika pulled her answers from the bonfire before her eyes, surrendered to the thoughts that promised her the past could be erased by means of flame. She could rip open her wounds, cauterize them, bathe in the searing heat and the acrid smoke. She knew exactly what she would start with, and where. Resolution settled, cold and rough as stone, into the holes poked through her chest. Is this the same compulsion a murderer feels before returning to the scene of the crime?
inden"It was a bear," she finally spoke, a bitter confession extracted as easily as blood from a stone, yet lubricated by alcohol enough to come close to sounding like a throwaway line. "Two months ago."
indentinA new urge appeared and Erika fished through her pocket for something stuck there largely out of routine. The metallic lighter was warm to the touch from having rested near her body, forgotten and laying await for the moment that made a social smoker. A thread of dried blood rested in one of the grooves of the engraved surface's venetian pattern, and she smoothed her thumb across it, then swerved her eyes back to the fire to cast the memories into that ravening embrace. She placed a cigarette between her lips, left it in a silky hold. Habit had her shielding the end with a cupped hand, even when the evening was still in the wake of the day's rain. The lighter clicked open and she held it out under the end of the cigarette, rasped her thumb across the sparkwheel until a flame formed and the paper accepted the glow of the fire.

indentinErika drew the smoke into her lungs, let it scrape and rough up her throat, drew the cigarette from her lips, tilted her head back and released her breath. Gossamer smoke streamed out through parted lips, and the ebbing and arching light clung to it, coloured it in shades of fierce red fire. The overpowering presence of the bonfire swallowed the wisps and they disappeared into its exhaust, that spirit left over from the wood it devoured with loud and ravenous hunger.
indentinErika deftly turned the cigarette between her fingers, dropped her eyes to Audrey, and offered out the smouldering nail in her coffin over the armrest of her chair for her to take, if she wished. Erika looked at her with something that promised there to be a thrill waiting around this turn, if she dared come with.
inden"Do you want to get out of here?" she released the words to the mercy of the firepit's roar, let loose the convoluted emotion ─ dangerous and wayward ─ that curved her mouth. "I know a place."

[phayraoh]

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𝘋𝘐𝘔𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘈𝘕 𝘈𝘕𝘚𝘠𝘓𝘖𝘙 ─────────❝ je ne t'oublierai pas. je te laisserai dans la lumière déclinante. puis-tu vivre jusqu'à ta mort ❞ xxxx
thirty-three yrs ▪ he/him ▪ beta
location: nearby woods --> bonfire | tags: arden, bonfire | mentions: --
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--indent--Her touch was sudden and anodyne, the faint scent of lavender and chamomile draped over her skin. Dimidian flinched not out of rejection but surprise from the unexpected caress, struck immobile when her fingers found rest at the nape of his neck. Spray of an ocean's wave shivered down his back and he submitted to the pull of her pleading hand, his eyes drifting down to meet hers, his cheek nestling into the curve of her palm. So lost was he in the temptation to unite his lips with the pulse of her wrist that he did not notice the fleeting look she gave his upturning smile. His heartbeat jerked suddenly and slipped from his placated grasp, leapt for the celestial heavens and crashed down in wanting whisper, a lunar-rapid rise and fall, cresting and receding, longing...reaching. A thundering rush forward, a culmination of gravity and will, jerked an aching thread, anchor to a vessel already moored to those which made bay around the haven of her heart.
--indent--Dimidian drank in her every word, her voice a command that sent the defiant waves hissing back to the roiling sea from whence they came. Still waters, the ripple of laughter against the mirrored surface, a blurring of real and reflected, what had been and what could be. "'This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen,'" he countered, splaying his hand over hers, folding her warmth into the depths of his affections. It was her smile that woke the fault below, made him feel, gradually, as if he were on the wrong side of the mirror. See me.
--indent--He was gasping to the surface of a bellicose sea, aware now of the absence of oxygen in his lungs. Dimidian floundered from a snaking black tide, determined to reach her, determined to pull her back beneath the veil of liquid moonlight. Arden, Arden, what have you buried? It was not a conscious thought but a feeling, and perhaps he was paranoid and overthinking, but in this gentle moment of naked candor he had not expected a sudden dimming of light. Plunged into the astral blackness of eclipse he fought through the sucking sands to reach her. Twin pleas faced each other through glass and not mutual reflection; hers posed a question and his a dying need. Gaping maws yawned from the deep, demanding of his flesh; in the weak light of returning sun his heart pounded the sea from his lungs.
--indent--Taste the salt spread upon his lips, wring the surf from his sodden hair. Dimidian's fingers slipped between her palm and his cheek, intertwined with hers. "Anywhere," he promised faintly. Kelp-strewn beach filled his nose as he guided the tangled net of their hands downwards. White noise filled his conscience but he swept it away in need of his thoughts. A glance to the stars granted solace, the moon quelled the arching tides. He ached with yearning, but hesitation and doubt pinned his wings in a false display of fulfillment. Inside him was a shell ridden of packed sand, hollow and murmuring promise when he held it close.
--indent--He took a step forward when he knew she would follow, turned towards the beacon of light casting search into the pines. When they emerged from the abyss, the pack would be told of the changes made. Dimidian swallowed thickly, hoping the pressure of his ascent would not render him unrecognizable. The ranking was far more than a title: it was responsibility and action. His wolves would depend on him to keep them safe, to lead and dole out guidance when headings were lost. Our wolves. He squeezed Arden's hand, putting forth both a question and reassurance -- are you all right? I'm here.
--indent--Dimidian hoped he hadn't been too forward, hadn't trodden beyond the boundary he'd been pacing for months. Years. Her relationship with Melissa was something he had never sought to lessen or draw her away from -- did he threaten this now? He'd never been shy of his place as her companion, but he'd always been sure to follow her lead. Had he steered too far from true North? The voices of those gathered around the bonfire churned his stomach. He released Arden's hand and pocketed her warmth. Whatever cliff he'd been launched from today had placed him somewhere he grew less afraid of, but now the sun was sinking, scattering a weakened light, drowning as it had been born: in blood and rosy hopes. Dimidian cradled its soft flame for a moment longer, then let it slip softly into deep waters. It would rise again, live and die for as many days as he would need. Neither of them were going anywhere, and to him it seemed they only had forever.
--indent--There were storms to calm, ebbs to master, albatross to guide back to trustworthy stone. He was her beta now, her right hand, her faith and golden certainty. Together they would nurture a legacy left to them to carry -- as they wished -- and when that was underway, perhaps then would Dimidian present his crying truths.
--indent--Not everyone from the pack was present around the bonfire, though he almost preferred it that way. A knot of trepidation formed in his gut, a quiet but pressing fear that he would not be accepted as the new beta. What did any of them know of him? Who and what he truly was? Only Arden -- and Audrey, if she counted -- knew where he came from, what he had gone trough. Dimidian let out a soft breath, casting his doubts to the new alpha in a sidelong glance as he stepped into the ring of flame.
--indent--"Everyone," he called tightly, gathering their stares as he raked each form scattered around the fire. When their attention broke from their conversations and personal musings, Dimidian's gaze offered the announcement to Arden. He itched to retreat into the shadows, to be enveloped in the outer edges of the pack where he'd been existing since his arrival, but such was not his place any longer. The beta stood tall beside her, confident but not quite proud, composed but not impassive. Maybe it was the connection that tied each of them together, but he felt a growing urge to raise a feral song, to weave among pelts and head a storm of thundering paws and flashing teeth. They'd celebrate soon, when perhaps times were not shadowed by the threat of death and uncertainty.

*

[phayraoh]

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𝘈𝘜𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘠 𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘋─────────❝ staring into blackness at some distant star. the thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are ❞
thirty yrs ▪ she/her ▪ fighter-to-be
location: bonfire [time-skip to mill] | tags: erika | mentions: --
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--indent--Audrey grinned against the mouth of the bottle, her eyes a reflection of the skittish fire before her. "Only in greeting," she offered nonchalantly, drawing a slow blink across her eyes as she tilted her head back against the chair's backrest. The curve of plastic digging into the back of her skull was headache-inducing, but she held the position in favor of a glimpse of the stars above. If there was one thing she always missed about home, it was the open plains and the roof of the sky unbroken by trees and mountain fangs. The skeletal grasses would whisper hushed mirth as they carried the rippling starlight across the plains, taking it to places Audrey could only dream of (perhaps Dimidian knew), euphoric from having been granted a second chance at possessing beauty.
--indent--The mountains were constricting and stern — all the best choices of journey were dictated by geography's will. Trees crowded around her, forcing her into ever deepening realms of imagination to seek out the freedom she craved. "I ought to be offended that you would look at me and suspect someone who wishes to tame you," Audrey replied, her intentions true even if her quip wasn't. She lifted her head to take another drink, mildly surprised at how fast she was working through her beer.
--indent-- Audrey had the sense to feel guilty for prodding at the woman's wounds as her eyes were drawn back to the fire, a means to offer Erika a veil of privacy as she yanked down her sleeves. A burning log shifted on the flames, collapsed in on itself with a burst of sparks its dying breath; something about it reflected the air radiating from Erika. Her hunch was confirmed when a lighter flashed a sinister smile from the corner of her eye, prompting Audrey to turn her head and challenge its malignant glint. She thought that maybe she ought to say something in response to Erika’s elaboration, but she also thought that anything she did say would be a stitch thrown into a wound already scarred over.
--indent--“Screw bears,” she muttered simply, finishing her drink and placing it down in the grass where it lay slumped against Erika’s first bottle. The tell-tale sound of a cigarette being lit drew her attention to the woman’s face. The flame of the lighter sputtered to life, illuminated Erika’s skin as if she cupped a temperamental storm cloud. Fire licked the bone cradled between her lips, released the acrid fragrance that clawed its way through the air. Audrey's nostrils flared but she did not recoil from the odor, far too desensitized from the bars and a life around cowboys to be perturbed. Her eyes widened and her breath stilled as she watched Erika take a drag, gaze trailing a phantom touch across the line of her exposed throat. A wolf howled in the night, without sound, without regard for care or tenderness. The breath of her silent song curled in on itself, illuminated in the light of flames, billowing twists slowing as time does in the face of perilous fate.
--indent--It took a rapid few shutters of her eyelids to bring her up to speed with the heartrate of the present. Audrey reached for the cigarette, felt the heat of her inhale creep into her face. She held her breath as Erika spoke, indecision appearing like a spark in the sky and winking out just as fast as it came. Her agreement came as a slow nod as she pulled the cigarette away; she knew not the depths of the undertaking she was agreeing to, but hell if she missed out on all the fun. Tilting back her head, she parted her lips and signed her name in smoke.
--indent--Vivre sa vie.


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--indent--Crackles rang softly in her ears, the mingling overlap of a thousand smoldering fires. Audrey leaned into consciousness but pulled away sharply as she struck a mental wall of pain and nausea. She clutched onto the coattails of sleep, nestled into something soft, warm, and perfumed in the smell of bonfire. A strident groan yanked her from any place of slumber she sought to burrow into, her wide eyes seizing onto the smoking column that collapsed into the black heap of charred and fire-bitten wood around it. Audrey might have been confused if not for the pounding headache that took precedence over all else. She leaned forward, pressed her forehead into her palms, let out a whine that dropped into a groan. Robin song stabbed into her skull, driving a sharp pain through every inch of her head. She looked up and immediately ducked into the shadow of the closest pine, hiding from the dawn's peek. After several moments of ensuring she wouldn't be sick, Audrey turned to address the warmth pressing to her side. This warmth had a name....
--indent--Erika.
--indent--Reaching forward, Audrey pawed at the cascade of dark hair where she now realized she'd bedded down for the night, erasing any trace of her having been there. Ash was floating through the air like snow, sticking itself to their clothes and skin. She needed to stand.
--indent--By some great miracle, Audrey came to an unsteady lean against the rough pine bark, her left hand sinking into the river of sap she was too hungover to avoid. Her legs were splayed and trembled like a newborn fawn's, requiring great concentration to get them into something that resembled human stance. Standing...check.
--indent--Next was a brilliant need for water; her tongue and throat were devoid of all moisture, cracked and pulsing with a thorny heat. Her brain offered her a memory of black water alight with a reflection of shattered flame. She snatched the image and fed it to her other senses, sending them out in search of this place. Success came to her as a muted roar; Audrey surged forward at once, sluggishly recalling the river that had borne witness to the night's inferno. She very nearly tripped over a bottle of beer ─ no, several bottles of beer...empty beer ─ that lay clustered over a sheet of dark, plaid fabric. It was at this moment that she remembered squirming out of Dimidian's flannel, loading it up with beers from the cooler, and parading her now-portable cache through the night-drenched forest.
--indent--Drink. Water.
--indent--It felt like a thousand years had passed by the time Audrey made it past the glass cemetery and to the river's edge. Blinding relief coursed through her when she saw that the water on the bank was shallow and calm, the frothing roar fixed to the center of the riverbed. After a slow descent to her knees she perched in broken prayer, cupping the glacial waters in her hands and guzzling it down one mouthful at a time. Smoke and malt swirled on her tongue, sins fixed in place, unaffected by the amount of river she drank.
--indent--The motion of the water soon stirred up the contents of her stomach, making Audrey lean back to stare instead at the blushing skies above. Her bare feet pushed into the water, the cold, gentle current offering a soothing touch to the knots beneath her skin. Pebbles dug into her back, but they were a welcome distraction from the sheer amount of wrongness filling her body. She closed her eyes and made steady her breathing, balancing the flow of scent and sound into her body: too much or not enough and she would be swept back to nausea. Little by little, as the wolf inside burned away the hangover, she allowed memories of the night to come creeping to the surface. Laughter, a silhouette against a blazing tide, the sting of another beer sloshing down her throat, cool air hitting her back, moonlight on an expanse of inked skin.
--indent--The fire she had seen reflected in Erika's eyes was far less tame than the one they'd left behind at the pack house. Audrey had known then that she knew nothing of doing as she pleased, that her spunk and tenacity were child's play in comparison to whatever hellfire festered within her evening's companion. This wasn't a kindred spirit, but a different beast entirely, fueled by a righteous appetite for destruction.
--indent--A hiss passed through clenched teeth when she leaned up, her entire body protesting the movement. She needed to get back to the cabin, crawl into a bed, and sleep for a millennia. Dimidian would probably be furious and worried; her chest seized as she imagined his expression, angered and unwilling to believe she would depart without word or trace.
--indent--Rustling on the opposite bank drew Audrey's attention and she braced herself to face whatever was drawn by the smoldering ruins. She half expected a pack of wolves, half expected the fire department ─ what emerged was neither. A tawny hide shifted beyond the ferns, melting out of the shadows to take the shape of a skinny doe. She crept along the bank and bent her head to drink with far more grace than Audrey had shown. Sunlight winked from the droplets that fell from her black muzzle when she finished and swiveled her ears towards the wreckage. The smell of the smoke ─ and maybe Audrey, too ─ sent unease rippling through the deer's stature; she looked as if she were horrified that a safe, quiet place to drink had turned into an ember-ridden wasteland overnight. Another glowing beam fell into the remnants of the mill, sending up a cloud of ash, sparks, and black smoke. The doe bolted, her tail a white flag of surrender as she gave into her fears. Audrey watched her flee, a gaunt expression on her face. The deer was wise to run while she still could; Audrey suspected she ought to do the same.

[slaughter beach, dog]

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LOCATION; forest > bonfire > cabin ─ TAGGING; Dimidian, y'all, Cora ─ MENTIONED; Sao, Dutch, August, Caster ─ WC; 2,868

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*


A shudder tumbled from Dimidian into the tips of her fingers, down her arms, and gathered into a concern that she had finally overstepped, threaded the line this far and slipped a step away from solid ground, but his cheek pressed into her benign palm, found its home in the hands that should have been someone else's. Yet it scattered the doubt from whatever binding sinew had sought to toy with the fluttering of her heart all evening, the doubt that had culminated in the moments she had spent unknowing whether she would once again deserve to be the resting place of that tranquil look in the consuming and boundless hue of his eyes. The relief brought on by his response tugged out a sigh of laughter, and it rolled from her almost silently, a heartbeat in the night. It spread soothing balm to her throat, but once opened, these were wounds that could only be closed by the one thing that she would not have, and so she would cover them, keep shielding them for as long as she needed to.
indentinDimidian's hand settled over hers, covered it in a secure shelter made of the warmth of his skin radiating against hers. Arden did not know how he managed it, kept rolling these boulders from her chest, pulled out the thorns that stung from her skin, even when she had grown ignorant and resigned of the damage they did. Yet this connection that they had both embraced had cut some tendon that had held shut a vessel within her, the prison of knowledge and feeling she had buried, and now it threatened to spill over with each careless movement. To be anything but genuine and unreserved in the safety of his company prodded at the edges of the wounds with rough fingers, but for her to keep this pain to herself would be for the best. For the both of them.

indentinHis hand shifted, took hers in a reassuring hold. It was a wish fulfilled, yet lacking, yet enough. Dimidian was enough, he would always be enough. She let his promise and the soft pull of his hand lead her toward the fire, let it take her where the trees parted, their black silhouettes surrendered to the night sky and released them into the dancing sphere of welcoming light. A russet wolf, brown in all the shades of the earth and its mantle of needles in a forest of pines, lay beside Sao, and Arden gave her a subtle smile, heartened by her decision to attend after their conversation in the kitchen. But a wordless call swept her eyes past Cora's shoulder, to a few feet away, catching on a form that left her in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.
indentinThe figure swimming in and out of the ebbing view had her clutching the hand enveloping hers as her blood ran cold and jagged. The shadows ate at the dark fur, blended into those outlines until they became one and the same, but the fire glinted in the silver brushed throughout, exhibited the ghastly shape to her with twisted delight. Arden's breath solidified in her lungs, snagged on their fragile walls, and the acute panic caused by the denial of vital oxygen rolled toward her as a devastating tide, because the wolf by the firepit was her. It was her. Her. I can't breathe. This was a ghost, lurking in the skirts of a fire meant for the living. Arden's heart was not beating, it was twisting in its home like a fraught vagrant, sending out the sounds of water dripping onto stone in a forsaken cavern.
indentinThe wolf turned its head and its eyes seized the light, blue and cautious, and terror released her, spat her out into a world that was suddenly quiet and lonely, because those eyes were not brown and defiant. The faces around the fire stoked no sense of solace, because it was not her, and it never again would be. Arden loosened her grip on Dimidian's hand and he soon squeezed hers gently, but these were messages sent down wires that had been torn out of the wall in the receiving end. And still, when he let go, his hand left behind a craving in its place, one that might have been misplaced and erroneous. Cruel, even. It was a feeling in the palm of her hand that whispered distressing words, the crawl in skin that anticipated the fall of the teeth hovering above.

indentinDimidian's voice resounded to gather those anticipating eyes to them, and when Arden stepped closer into the light, she was wading through frigid waters. Something within her had slipped, stopped holding bound the things she thought she had accepted and laid to rest. To get through this night, to stand poised and serene at the point where these crowded gazes coalesced, she would press a pair of shears to each string she could afford to cut, and sink into the challenger deep of duty. To careless eyes she was human, but in her shadow stood the wolf, binding the pieces of her together with that dangerous thread that promised freedom from grief and the touch of some grove's tall grasses laving her pelt and the wounds it bore beneath.
indentinThe firelight snaked into the bourbon of her eyes, and while she was blind to the details of every face turned to her, she bent herself into the shape she needed to be, settled her features into a mask that emanated the message of hear me, watch me, follow me. Although she was caught inside something bitter and harsh, the tact that came naturally to her turned the bare and alarming words into phrases that were more decorous and palatable. Habit had her cradling her own arms in front of her, and she grounded herself in the feeling of the cardigan's knit beneath her fingers.
inden"Commitment to family has made it so that Jun has been forced to step down from his role as the alpha of this pack, and he has expressed that his wish is for me to take over those duties," she announced into the night, her voice level and carrying, yet threatened by a detached and uncharacteristic steel that she kept down by force, even when this chipped at the sincerity she most often embodied. "If I am to take over as the alpha of this pack, I would like to do so only with your approval, regardless of Jun's wishes or what is expected of a beta. If anyone would like to step forward and challenge his choice, I'm openly asking you to do that now."

indentinMurmurs rippled around the fire, and she let them speak, gathered herself in the refuge of the noise, but no one stood or spoke up against her, and slowly, the voices turned into hushed sounds of surfacing approval, small encouraging gestures that signaled support from the ring gathered around the campfire. It should have felt like an embrace, the temperate ocean weaved with sunlight that she had found in Dimidian's blessing, but these were cold and frothy waves crashing against the base of a dark and solemn cliff. Arden was tired, drained and cut down to the bone, cowering in the shadows of the wolf's den until she could thaw in the coming of dawn. 'This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.'
indentinA sturdy shape emerged from the circle, squeezed her shoulder with a benevolent hand and looked at her with eyes from which she could draw the warmth she needed until it would escape her again as sunlight from a stone. August stood tall beside her, and distant tenderness sparked in Arden again, because this was the son of the woman she admired and it would be the closest thing she would get to gaining her approval in this. He had always carried a silent and dependable kindness that reminded her of what she found in Matt. A deep voice settled the stirring all around them.
inden"I know Wolf Mother would stand with me when I say that Arden's going to make a fine alpha, and I don't see anyone here disagreeing. You've got my blessing," he spoke, partly to her and partly to the pack, his rumbling voice laced with joy and encouragement. Before returning to his seat, he squeezed her shoulder again, granted her the strength to show that she was grateful for him, for the pack's trust.
indentinDimidian's scent, lingering, soft yet sturdy, had her drawing closer to him, and she grazed his arm as a forewarning. She knew he was not a man who enjoyed the spotlight, but the pack needed to know. Part of it was a desire she recognized as selfish but could not resist, not here, not now; she needed to shed some of the gazes onto him before her face could fall and convey the false idea that this was not an honour she was going to take seriously. Because it was, both an honour and a duty she deeply respected, but she would carry those emotions to a later date, chip them out of ice on a day that was not haunted by her ghost and the burrowing claws of the things she would deny herself.
inden"Dimidian has agreed to step into the position of beta, and because I trust him with this, I ask that you do too."

indentinThe night turned into a blur of congratulations, brief words exchanged, and plans made. Arden listened to her pack's thoughts, took in their sounds and movements through a linen veil, but once the fire began growing smaller and the chatter around the firepit died down, she was one of the first to trickle away from the crowd, discreetly and with scarce words about her parting. This, the urge to withdraw and disappear into some internal world, an urge she thought she had left behind, was pulling her away. It bundled her veins into a closed system, one that would eventually run out of oxygen, shut her away from the world, chilled her skin, left her too tired to crave any other comfort than the false one found in solitude. She trudged toward the cabin with stilted feet and steps that fell heavy into the grass, a hunched mind muddled by the memory of loss.


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Pain comes as dreams of lost contentment.
indentinThe spectre of the wolf from the fire strode into Arden's dreams on unfaltering legs, let her run her hands over a vigilant face and into the silk behind her ears. These were dreams filled with Melissa, suffused with her scent, her sound, her presence. Held by her eyes, the sunlight would fall in folds, settle as still water to run your fingers through, fine sands to gather and draw into your palms, let the warmth it had soaked up sink deep into your veins. These were the woods that ran like rapids, dozens of reaching paws sinking into the soft turf, parted jaws with teeth gleaming, and pelts rippling with moonlight flowing around them as the water bows around the stone. This hunter, the fleet pursuant of the heart, the willing quarry, the diminutive difference between the two.
indentinJaws of dull teeth that braced around her throat surfaced Arden from the numb sleep that left shivers of absence swirling in her chest. This was a sleep from which to awaken in loneliness, the distortion of dreams that should have been happy. Tears she knew would not be shed constricted her throat and she drew her legs over the side of the cot, bent over the edge to run her hands over the sides of her neck. It was alienating to be keeping things from Dimidian, chilling to try reconciling the person she had thought Cora to be with the things she had done, and lacerating to keep Matt at an arm's length. Arden reached out the short distance to her desk, found her phone in a drawer, and the screen blinked to tell her it was six in the morning. The sun would be rising in a handful of minutes.
indentinUncertain fingers hovered above the contacts, thought about dialing a different number, her number, before scrolling down to Matt.
inden"Ari?" came the voice from the speaker, rough from sleep and as comforting as a fireplace in the winter. It's four in the morning in Wyoming. The line crackled, a door closed softly on the other side. "Arden, are you alright?"
inden"I miss her," she exhaled into the phone in a voice that was small and adrift. "And I miss you." His soft sigh, always compassionate and never impatient because he understood, carried to her as memories, and he asked her to tell him what had happened, and she did, told him about the bear, Dimidian, the night, the fire ─ the sole detail she left out, the one that gouged at her chest, was that it had been Dutch haunting her with that pelt eerily similar to the one they both ached to see again.
inden"I'm in Eagle River, Wisconsin, visiting old friends who might have some leads. If I get a car, it's less than a day to get there. Ari, just say the word and I'll come get you. We can head back to Yellowstone together."
indentinWords originating from immediate reality nudged at the stupor in Arden's limbs, had her rising from bed only to drift to the chair by her desk. A sliver of light slipped through into the office from beneath the door and slowly traveled across the scuffed floorboards with the rising of the sun. The blanket had been returned, retaining a note of Cora and the tea they had shared. She laughed quietly, without vigor, and uncertain exactly why. A part of her wished he could have, but there was a Dutch-shaped obstacle that had been wedged between them. In Yellowstone, Matt was free of this burden. Lying through her teeth would have been too much to bear, too transparent, so she avoided the real reason why he could not.
inden"No, Matt, I can't leave the pack, and you have a life in Wyoming. Don't come here and get entangled in small town problems. I'm okay, I just needed to hear your voice." He sighed again and this time it was a sound that said okay, agreed with her, even when he thought otherwise. After the passing of Wolf Mother, his opinion had turned on its head, become worried that Pine Knob might have been bad for her, instead of the healing place it had been while the matriarch had still been alive.
inden"You know you can call me, night and day."
inden"I know. Stay safe on the road, okay? Love you."

indentinAs Arden waited for the day to come around, she wrote down a list of chores for Caster to do, both to keep him out of trouble and remind him that actions, such as prodding at someone until they shifted indoors, had consequences. Underneath the line that said he would get to clean up the remains of the campfire, Arden scribbled a note that stated the firepit would be cold and harmless by now, but that he could choose to fold laundry instead. It was nearing seven when she slipped into the living room and padded into the kitchen bathed in timorous sunlight to stick the list on the fridge, because she knew it would likely be the first place he would go after waking.
indentinShe would courteously wait for eight in the morning before rousing anyone else, and while she waited, she tied her hair into a half bun, carefully swept the last of the glass from the hallway, gathered the pieces of picture frame to be glued back together, and ate her breakfast in the quiet chill of the autumn morning that had settled on the porch. There she let the night fade from her mind, decided that the trip she needed to make to town would also do her good. I am breathing in, I am breathing out. Every morning was a chance at a clean slate.
indentinThe sun had climbed closer to its destination when she finally stole up the stairs that had lost their banister and wandered down the hallway, pensively sweeping her eyes across the mementos and pictures that hung on the walls. Above the window at the end of the hallway, the place that marked its turn, there hung a melancholy skull that watched her with absent eyes as she knocked on Cora's bedroom door. The sound was strident and reaching in the placid morning, fitting for the worries the last night's conversation had left lingering. She settled to stand against the wall beside the door, eyeing the beadwork decoration that hung on the opposite side, and spoke to an empty hallway with words that sought to keep sensitive secrets hidden from other listening ears.
inden"I'm heading to town to visit the store, run some errands. I thought you might want to come with." Arden picked at the hem of her shirt, then settled her arms across her chest. Habits. "We could talk."

[eleutheromania]

𝐘𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐝𝐚 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 "𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛"

he/him | nineteen | hunter | location:outside > bathroom > kitchen > laundry room > porch | mentions: arden, heron, sao | tags:
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the events of the night prior had done little in terms of getting yehuda interested in the terms of pack affairs. with old positions being filled by those he knew, he didn't see a reason to be up in arms over anything, let alone sour. after quinn had given him a bowl of stew, he had scarfed it down during arden's entire spew over it all. of course, he had paid her little attention because the food was way more important than some words about roles and ranks and who picked who nonsense. quinn definitely had been a lifesaver for him in regards to the stew, yehuda would have never gotten close to it to even make a bowl due to the flames that aided in keeping it warm. that night had gone on slowly, he had stayed in his little spot under the stars and enjoyed it, tuning out the conversations of the others.

--

he woke rather groggily as he slowly cracked open his eyes. the smell of morning dew reached him as he realized he had slept outside, yet again. it was very rarely that yehuda would find himself in his room, blame it on not having one for half his life. rolling onto his side, a shiver ran down his spine at the memory of what had caused him to wake up. nightmares were something that he dealt with regularly, though, for the most part, he suffered them in silence. lifting his hands, he rubbed his face with his palms before tired eyes turned towards the cabin. it seemed quiet and if he remembered correctly, he was supposed to be going for a run with heron and sao soon. caster pushed himself up to his feet, brushing off the debris clinging to his somewhat damp clothing as he slowly climbed the stairs onto the porch and then up to the room. grabbing a pair of shorts, he made his way down the hall to the shower.

using a towel to get the steam off the mirror, he combed through his damp hair with his fingers, deciding against putting it up today and letting it frame his face. yehuda made no attempt to put on a shirt as he left the bathroom and headed downstairs, fueled more by his growling stomach than anything else, at least he had shorts on. as he stood in front of the fridge, his eyes narrowed as he recognized arden's handwriting along with the fact she had given him a list of things to do. he pulled the list off the fridge and examined what was written. when she mentioned him cleaning up the campfire, his brow raised, though he knew she wasn't around to see. if she thought he would be going anywhere-.. he kept reading only to realize that she had given him an out to not having to deal with the smokey remains of the flames, along with any bottles a few drunken souls had left around. while laundry wasn't his favorite thing to do, it kept him away from anything that involved fire, even if it was hours prior.

yanking the fridge open, he put the note on the counter and then surveyed its contents. heron wouldn't allow him to attempt to cook again, nor did he want to, so instead yehuda decided on skipping the whole breakfast routine that most of the pack did and pulled out the sandwich meat and mayo. grabbing the bread off the counter, he spread the mayo on four pieces of bread before he put a little salt and pepper on them. at this point, the nineteen-year-old placed a generous amount of meat between the slices and stacked them on top of each other. the container that held the turkey and ham, now empty, was thrown in the trash as he took his masterpiece to the bar and sat down. stomach rumbling, he made quick work of his lunch for breakfast, too impatient to wait on anyone to cook for him.

content with his morning meal, he decided to start on the list now before everyone was fully awake. moving out of the kitchen and towards the utility room, he skirted by the living room, staying as far from the fireplace as humanly possible. caster noticed the pile of clothes awaiting him and shrugged and merely got to work. at first, he folded in silence but that soon turned into him softly singing a lullaby that his mother used to sing to him. caster generally was more baritone than alto when it came to putting him in a category and he was far from a bad singer. the young man could carry a tune but that was something he kept to himself. he usually only ended up humming things half the time anyway. the moment anyone would approach, the soft melody he was softly singing under his breath would be gone.

he knew this would be the one chore that took the most time so it wasn't surprising that it took him more than thirty minutes to fold it all and then start a new load. once he was done with that, he started on something else on the list that she had given him, far from complaining as it gave him something to do and kept him busy and much to her liking, out of trouble and injury. yehuda shot through half the list before he decided to check and see if heron and sao were up and ready to go out, he was itching for a good morning jog in wolf form. he decided to check the porch to see if either of the two women were out waiting. he continued to carry his soft tune when he realized the cabin remained quiet for the most part as he opened to door and stepped onto the porch. he inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh crisp scent of the morning, and decided he would simply wait here. the rest of the chores he could easily knock out later unless he ended up forgetting, which wouldn't be surprising.

"....little one when you play. don’t you mind what you say, let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear.." he continued as he decided to sit on the step, resting his head against the railing as he let his gaze drift outward towards the trees.

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𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎
𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?