Mayday

Ciara O'Callahan · 05-01-2012, 07:44 PM

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Word Count: +500

Sleep. Glorious, peaceful sleep. It was her only release from the growing depression she’d been suffering the past few weeks. Every waking moment was spent worrying over her mate, why she wasn’t making him happy, what he could be keeping from her that made him still act so distant. She thought she was there for him, thought she was affectionate enough. She kept herself open to the conversation she knew was going to come. A part of her dreaded that he’d never open up to her, that he’d never unleash whatever monsters were keeping him from truly being hers.

In her dreams they were happy. Absolutely connected in every fibre of their beings, physically, emotionally, even spiritually if there could be such a thing. They would run together, hunt together and spend the nights pressed close. In her dreams, always, there were pups. Three of them, two white with black-rimmed ears like their father and golden patches like Ciara’s own mottled coat, and one of the purest white, Arctic fur. It was with these wolves, in this life, that she was happy. Here there were no insecurities, no doubts. Her family was complete, happy, and lacking nothing.

New Dawn continued to be a home to her, and she did take comfort in her pack mates when she saw them, but she’d been distant lately. That was not their fault, for certain. Several times she had considered seeking out Soran, just to talk to her and seek advice. The sable elder was like a mother to her, the closest thing to a maternal figure Ciara had had since the death of her own mother a year prior. Sometimes she even thought of speaking to Zalen about her concerns for Augustus, or maybe even Titania, though she always suspected the Alphess disliked her. No matter how many temptations presented themselves, Ciara continued to stay to herself, wanting only to hear the voice of her mate explaining and unleashing all of his obvious discomfort so they might move on.

It appeared that nature had not destined that night to be a peaceful one for the golden Epsilon. While Ciara was sleeping, that dreaded, familiar scent began to leak from her pores. It filled the den, drifting to each black, leathery nose until it finally woke Ciara herself. Her earthen eyes snapped open and she lifted her head quickly. A low growl started in her throat and then she stamped a paw down. NO! she shouted, before leaping up and quickly bolting from the den. Why did this have to happen now? Couldn’t it wait until they’d sorted things out? Didn’t they have enough problems?

She snarled as she ran for the brook outside the den and plunged directly into the waters. She didn’t want to deal with the smell. Didn’t want to see the look on the males’ faces when they caught that scent and had to be around her. She wondered idly if Augustus would become more protective now that she was his. A small part of her wondered if he’d take her himself, and the fearful pang of the maiden rose in her throat. She knew she would be forced from the den again, but at least she was aware beforehand. With another deep growl, the Epsilon lowered herself down until she was laying in the water.

Nature hated her, it seemed.

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