The hybrid woman sought the outskirts of Anathema's cave system, her nose twitching wildly. Though she was in her Optime form, she was bent over almost half-way, her yellow-green eyes wide and wild with fear. She had brushed off anyone who had attempted to approach her, instead keeping to her search. Wretch had not come in with Salvia and Pandemic. The hybrid's breath came in sharp inhales and shallow exhalations, as if she could not draw the right oxygen from the cave air. And it was true, she could not -- a sickening fear had risen in her, some crippling sense of loss that she could not shake, though rationality and logic told her the girl had simply fallen asleep somewhere, or she had been taken in with Sirius or someone else in the pack for the night. Even so, neither of her siblings had seen her for some time, and Eris could not shake this feeling.

She turned abruptly and half-ran toward the entrance to the family caves, the dim torchlight illuminating her path as she continued at the same speed down this hall. She entered their cave and turned into the room where she and Larkspur slept now, where they had rolled and tumbled and did all manner of things in effort to make more like Wretch, Salvia, and Pandemic. It was not entirely without pleasure, but the hybrid thought little of that now -- she only wanted him awake and up, and she only wanted Wretch here and safe again. That feeling of helplessness had risen in the sable-shaded woman, who leaned to the slumbering male and shook him gently, her hand gingerly motioning at his shoulder and then more insistently, trying to draw him from sleep. She did not know what else to do and she was certainly beyond the point of caring whether or not she appeared helpless.

Whatever strength she might have once held was evaporated, sliding to nothingness through the rise of twisted and sharp anxiety rolling through her guts, slicing and shredding them. There were no signs of confidence within the dark woman; her chartreuse-shaded eyes were wide with fear and worry, her coal-shaded ears pressed firmly into the thick tangle of unkempt hair atop her head. She could not suppress a whimper as it rose from her throat, soft and childish. There was no canorous quality to it; the soft and whining sound rattled and shook as it filled the cave. A trembling had begun in the sable wolf and she could not stifle it away.

“Wretch didn't come back tonight,” she said as soon as his Halloween eyes had opened, her voice sounding stronger than she thought it might, a tiny blessing in an otherwise harrowing time. There was hesitation in her, as if she feared this strength in her voice would fade away quickly, and she swallowed dryly, ears still folded nearly flat. “She's not in the caves. I looked,” she added, and as she feared, whatever confidence was in her voice the first time she spoke had disappeared, leaving her with the small and frightened voice of a child.

The cave system was vast, with numerous places Wretch might have hidden herself away, but the hybrid did not think she was within the Anathema caves anymore -- maybe not within the territory at all. It was not like the pallid girl to fail to return home; she and her siblings, headstrong as they might have been on occasion, were not typically disobedient where their parents were concerned. Eris had insisted on their return home in the evening, forbidding them from exiting the cave system at all at first. As they had grown older, she had alloewd more room, more space for them to wander, but now she wondered if she had moved too fast. Was she at fault here? Had she allowed them to wander too far, too soon?

His voice was rough and scratchy with sleep, lacking its usual canorous, rumbling quality. There was little melody to Larkspur's voice, but it caught one's ear nonetheless, demanding attention and adherence even through so much as a single word. They moved away from the small room and through the larger one; their sounds, however slight, had aroused Axi's attention, and she stood hesitantly in the doorway to her own room. The coal-shaded hybrid's head twisted toward the other canine, regarding her for just a moment before she spoke in an attempt to regain her composure. Though she did not think it mattered much what Axi thought, she did not wish to appear weak to the tawny coyote.

“Stay here and don't let the kids leave,” she commanded, turning away from the other canine immediately and stalking out into the larger cave system. They made their way toward the horses, and at Larkspur's command, Eris hesitated only a moment, her yellow-green eyes shifting from the horse to him and back again before she moved toward the animal. Unsteady and uncertain, she climbed onto the animal's back, settling down some once she was seated comfortably on the equine.

Eris had only a pitifully small amount of experience with horses -- they were mostly unfamiliar to her, giant beasts others somehow controlled and bent to their will. She did not understand their training, and having encountered one or two mules and donkeys in Eterne with a bad attitude and perhaps a lackluster training history, the hybrid was usually wary of them. Larkspur's horse was not so very different, though Eris had spent more time around this particular horse than any other. Her chartreuse gaze uneasily wandered around the cave and over the arch of the equine's neck and the thick off-white mane there. Her eyes slid to the floor, studying the distance to the rocky ground, knowing full well what might happen to her if she fell and struck her head. Then, they were moving, the horseflesh shifting and rolling beneath her. Though she had initially jerked in surprise, she soon became used to the rhythmic movement and ceased to think about how high off the ground she was and how, if the horse spooked, she would be able to do little else save cling to the animal's neck and hope it slowed down.

Instead, her concentration focused on the Anathema territories around them, blazing green eyes sweeping over the area in futile effort to see what she could. The hybrid did not think the pale child was here, but she did not wish to miss any signs of Wretch's presence. “She was here?” Eris asked after a moment, gaze turning to face Larkspur. He was up ahead of Eris and the horse a little bit, and the equine followed him docilely, a soft grunt occasionally issuing forth from her. The canorous clopping of her hooves on the hard ground seemed to fill the air, drowning out the softer noises of the night. She was a fair sight larger than any other horse the coal-shaded woman had been around, but there was no nervousness within the animal -- she was calm in the presence of her owner, scarcely aware of the weight on her back.

None of that nervous energy had faded from the coal-shaded woman had faded away; it was still there, bubbling and burning beneath the surface. She had been momentarily distracted by the prospect of clambering up onto the draft horse's back, and now that the experience was over, her mind was free to roll over and over Wretch's disappearance again, wondering what could have possibly happened to the girl. Her fingers, curled tightly into the horse's mane, loosened their grip, nervously twisting and twirling the silky pale hair. Her bright green eyes roved over the area almost neurotically, looking for any physical sign of Wretch left behind. He spoke, and her gaze swung toward him, the grown apparent on her face. He spoke again and told Eris to hold on, and she did, clinging to the horse's back as they picked up speed, running after Larkspur.

The heavy gait of the equine kept pace with the dark figure ahead, moving through the shadows as a slightly darker blur. The canorous noise of the hooves beating against the grass had increased in tempo, thundering faster now. Eris leaned forward against the wind, her ears pressed back and her eyes half-slitted. The faster pace did not frighten her, but she still certainly did not want to go flying off toward the darkened ground, and so she held on tighter, winding her fingers into the horse's mane. When she lifted her head to look where they were, she saw they were quite near northwestern most edge of the Anathema border, heading toward Inferni. She seemed to stiffen at this -- though she knew Wretch was too far wolf to be accepted in the clan, she did not know that they would cast her out, either. She was, after all, some sort of family, and she did hold some coyote blood.

The idea that she had gone to Inferni twisted and burned in the hybrid's chest. She had not wanted this for her children, and though she had prepared herself in small ways in case they did decide to choose their coyote heritage, she had not expected it would come so quickly. Wretch was still so young, and there was still so much the dark woman wished to teach her. She had not so much as begun the practice of reading the blood, the liver -- she did not yet know whether her daughter would be able to tap into that undercurrent of the world. The idea that Wretch was completely gone -- perhaps dead -- had not yet occurred to her; in Eris's mind, this was purely temporary. They would find her -- Larkspur would follow her scent to wherever it went, whether that lead straight to Inferni's borders or not.

Then, they were slowing, and Eris's thoughts were broken apart in a moment, her head lifting upward and her body straightening on the equine's back. Her chartreuse gaze looked to Larkspur, a question smoldering just behind them. He spoke, and his voice had taken on a guttural and growling quality, one she had not ever noticed before. There was no canorous flow to his voice any longer, and his voice was twisted, tainted by some outside influence she could not fully detect. “Gone,” she repeated, despair apparent in her drooping shoulders and posture, downcast gaze on the snow-dappled ground.

The idea that this was her own damn fault haunted her, clinging to her mind and weighing on her shoulders like so much dead weight. She should have kept better watch over them -- she should have followed after them, keeping quiet and separate watch even as they played on unaware. They were too young to have been allowed the free roam that she had allowed them, and blame for what had happened could fall only on her shoulders. The thoughts rattled in her mind with no sense of order or importance, whatever canorous and sensible quality they might have had lost in the anxious din in her head.

Larkspur was quiet for a long minute, and Eris very nearly seemed to shrivel, awaiting the rage like fire and words of blame, faulting and disparaging her at once. There was none; instead, there was a soft touch against her foot, and she twitched, her whole body seeming to jerk away from this touch as if startled from deep concentration. There was no intent to hurt in the touch, however, and as quickly as she had feared him she relaxed again, nodding her head morosely as he spoke. She understood.

“She'll be okay,” the hybrid agreed. Part of her, that arrogant and still callous youth who had lived in Eterne as some kind of princess, knew in her heart that Wretch was, in fact, fine. A larger part of her, the frightened new mother, knew nothing other than that her daughter was gone. They turned in silence, heading back to the entrance of the cave. There was no urgency in their movement now, and Eris's gaze still swept over the ground, looking for any visible signs of Wretch, however fruitless it might have been. If they could not find her by scent, their eyes were more than useless. Once inside the shallow cave where the horses stayed, the hybrid slid off the equine's back, absently slapping at the animal's shoulder in thanks. There was more quiet as they made their way back to their cave where the remainder of their children still slept.

It would have been good for Eris to be able to blame someone else, anyone else. She had lost faith in her old gods, and Larkspur's new ones did not appeal to her. She would give them their deserved respect, of course, but she would not worship. It was not quite agnosticism, certainly not atheism -- while she had decided Momotzli was indeed a false god, this did not mean all gods were false, and she did not deny the existence of Larkspur's gods. In fact, she thought it was rather plausible they were real -- there was old power in his blood, running through his veins. None of that had existed in Eterne as she saw it. For all their rituals and rites, they were devoid of any real truth, and thus they were utterly powerless. In her mind, however, there had been no religious interference here -- Eris done fucked up, simple as that and simpler still.

Eris did not so much as look at Molcaxitl as she entered the cave; her chartreuse eyes brushed over the other woman once, though the look seemed to pass through her entirely, blankly gazing at the stone wall behind Axi rather than the tawny coyote herself. With that, she turned and slid into the darkness of the room where she and Larkspur slept, drawing herself into a tight fetal position in the rearmost corner. There was not a tired bone in her body, but she did not want to be in the light. She didn't want Axi or Larkspur to see her cry, and she did not think she could muster up a lie if Pandemic or Salvia happened to wake. The soft whimpers and cries that managed to escape her were tangled and choked, no canorous element to them in the least. Some cries she managed to swallow back; others, she was not so lucky.

Her fault, her fault, her fault. What business did Eris Lykoi have, raising children and pretending to be a mother? What business did she have, spreading the vile coyote blood that certainly coursed in her veins? No matter whether it was filtered through Larkspur, made more wolfish and stronger for his blood -- it was still dirty and tainted with coyote. The sable-shaded hybrid inhaled with a sharp shudder, burying her head beneath her arms to try and stifle whatever noise she made. She knew Larkspur would come in, and she knew he would see this -- she did not want him to, but he would. There was nowhere else to go, and it was better for him to see her like this than anyone else.

There was noise, and she knew he had come in, but the coal hued woman did not lift her head or acknowledge him other than to curl up just a bit tighter, arms wrapped over her face, her whimpers momentarily stifled and swallowed, though she had to hold her breath to do so. He did not seem to stop or hesitate; rather, she was aware of his slow movement forward, constant, and then he was behind her, his larger Lupus form very nearly as large as her Optime form. Eris was not a petite canine, but Larkspur was nearly as large as she was now, and she might have only barely outweighed him.

His muzzle nudged her arm aside and rested against her face, her hand moving to rest on the back of his head, holding him against her. She exhaled, finally, though now the whimpering had faded away; the only sound was that canorous, comforting sound of breath and heartbeats together. The anxiety faded slowly, leaving something rather listless and exhausted in its place.