» And Now We Play The Waiting Game

[Stormecho]

ooc: Hey guys, angst warning and um... everyone jump in? XD

The path had been long and hard. The rock bruised and cut the pads of her feet, no matter how hard she tried to find soft grass and smooth ground. Morrigan found herself stumbling often, but it was important that she find a place to rest that was apart from everywhere else, a place so secluded that there was no chance of someone from the pack finding her by chance. This place, so far north, on the very edge of the packlands, served its purpose. A high, lonely place where she could keep her misfortune to herself... And wait. She knew she was bad luck - the less contact she had with the other wolves, the better. If they didn't cast her out because of her bad luck, she knew that she would eventually open up, trust someone... and they would get hurt. Or die. Even barely knowing her had doomed the hunter who had brought her to these lands... He was dead now. The knowledge hurt her, even as she fought to get rid of the guilt. She was supposed to be alone... To live alone. To die alone.

She had been born in the dead of winter, born along with two stillborn pups. She had grasped for life, and received it from the season's fangs... at a high price. Morrigan knew, the same way she knew that she was bad luck, that the winter had claimed her, to kill her later... Her life and death belonged to the harshest of seasons. And she was scared, so scared, because summer had turned to a chilly fall, and winter was waiting. She knew she was weak, too thin; she hadn't been able to hunt anything bigger than a squirrel, and hadn't bothered to beg for food from the pack. The result was that she was unprepared for the coming winter, and she knew it. Sometimes - and this was a foolish, puppy thought - she imagined winter as a great white wolf, with cold eyes and sharp fangs, lurking in the air around her. Waiting to pounce, to bring snow to the land. It was what had brought her up here, where the cold wind nipped through her thin fur and chilled her to the bone. She was still alive. She wanted to live... And yet, her family had accepted that she was going to die, told her she was as good as dead already... Surely they knew more than she did.

And so it was a puppy-ish thought that had driven her up here to stand, shivering. She could see all of the packlands, sprawled out before her... It was beautiful, unfit to be tainted by her bad luck. That was what gave her the courage, now, to do the reckless, foolish thing: tilting her head back, she howled.

Howls were meant to call out, to connect packmembers and mark boundaries, to affirm the unity of a pack. Hers was so very far from that... because she was alone. It was a challenge; a shrill, raucous challenge to the season that was going to kill her. Loud, and defiant... but thin and reedy, tell-tale signs for any who heard that it wasn't an adult's call. Just a desperate pup's, and it didn't last long. Breathing sped up by the sudden fear that winter would answer - that a white wolf would sweep down from the sky and attack - Morrigan huddled on the spur of rock for a moment, too afraid to move. Then, panic mobilized her, and the pup curled up on the ground, whimpering with fright.

[Fuego]

It was once again that time for a very special trip. Gathering himself long enough mentally to bring himself here was something that he wasn't all too comfortable with. Even though it had been one whole year or so since his mother's passing, he still couldn't come completely with terms of his mother's death. She was a huge part of his life, even if it was only for a little while. Toorima had taught him so much and gave him everything that she could. Mother was his favorite person in the world, apart from Misora of course. With some wild flowers still in his mouth, he walked up the steep cliff to her grave site; the place that gave this cliff site its name. He had saved some flowers in a special cache for a while now, hoping to put them in good use. Gekirin had seen Koani do this countless times, and so he too started this tradition. He didn't like that Koani was favored also by Mother, and thought to have been better then Gekirin at all. The black prince made his way all the way up there, resting the flowers finally at her grave site. Turning around though, he found out that he wasn't alone all the way up here. Yellow eyes turned to see a young pup looking out over the cliff at the rest of the pack lands. She was such a cute creature, with dark mottled fur and bright gold eyes it was a shame that he hadn't noticed her earlier. Making a soft bark in her direction, he did his best to get her attention without scaring her off. It was hard for Gekirin to believe that he was once that small. But sadly he was with his sire and adoptive mother at that time. Sorcen and Netami were far gone from his side all of the time, for fear that they would become like him and not want to stick with their sire's ways of thinking. Oh well, such was the past of the much older prince now. He no longer had to deal with the mess of the once savage pack rivalries. Gekirin made his way closer to the younger pup. His yellow eyes looked down at her in a curious manner. "Hello there." He called to her in a low and kind of soothing tone of voice. It was in his best interest not to scare her. That was the last thing on earth here that he wanted to do.

by Zina