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It wasn't the norm, for Sky to be wandering alone these days. Maybe it was the calm sense in the air, like the kind that came before tragedy. It gave an eerie feel to the air as the wolfdog meandered through the woods, heading for the clean, crisp air of the ocean, where she'd sent her children off to the other plain. There was something about the day that made her wish to visit her deceased pups, in hopes of hearing at least their tiny voices calling to her over the winds. It was one thing that the wolfdog believed in; spirits and the other plains they walked in.
Her paws carried her to the shoreline just outside the territory, where she found herself a place to sit, easing down onto an outcropping of stone that looked over the ocean. Beyond the swirling winter waters, she could see the white horizon of the maritimes, just a thin line amongst the darkening sky of evening light. Her home. Her birthplace, somewhere across the deadly waters, where she had been born.
Sky was in her lupus form for once, and it brought back memories to be like that. It reminded her of the many months she'd spent wandering with Dusk, alone after Revoldo had passed away. It reminded her of nature's true intentions. The upwalking luperci race was a mistake, one of many made by humans unintentionally. Somewhere over there, there was sure to be war between packs, much more feral in nature than her own artistic family. It was a chill on the wind that reminded her; peace wasn't something that came without redemption, and it wasn't something that lasted very long.
Even in peace, there was tragedy. Young as she was, Sky had learned this long ago. Flashes of her children, cleaned up after being born, mere peach fuzz covering their small bodies like some sort of moss on red stones. They'd been so silent, so still... limp. A lump of horror stuck in her throat, a held-back howl of some sort of twisted angst. Blue eyes narrowed at the scene in her mind, the twisted and revolting memories of the stressful days that followed her miscarriage, the pain in her beloved's eyes, the self-imagined scorn in everyone elses' faces when they looked at her. An unwelcome feeling that haunted her now, whenever she went back to the place she called her new home.
Maybe she really didn't belong in a pack. She'd been the cause of D'Arte's very first fight, the first one to miscarry pups, a sign of weakness through breeding. She'd been the reason behind all the stress and drama towards poor Shawchert and Orin, a chilling twisting storm of angst and regret. They don't deserve this. Thoughts drifted back to her pack, the family that had taken her in for merely a breath of song. I was foolish to stay there, to think I could ever fit in with them.
The eyes narrowed again, eventually drifting shut. Voices carried around her, just to the edge of her senses, tiny voices that haunted her whenever she was alone. The voice of her once beloved Revoldo, now passed into the other plains, whispering sweet nothings to her in hopes of a better future. The soft cries of her sons, begging her to forgive herself. Impossible. "I've come too far. This isn't right." Those voices continued to nag at her, vaguely becoming louder in her ears. "No, no... I'm not meant to be here. I should be back in New Brunswick. I should never have come here." More whispers, denying her the satisfaction of being right.
Finally, it was too much, and jaws parted in a snarl. "No!" Head tossed back in a long, loud, drawn-out howl, one that shivered through the trees behind her, and echoed faintly off the waters infront of her. A chilling sound, one she rarely used now. No meaning behind it. No words mixed into it. Simply a feral sound to voice her frustrations. Her guilt. It carried on for a moment, and then faded, long after she'd silenced herself. A faint echo still haunted the land around her, but the voices were gone. Silence followed, absolute silence. Finally, she was left alone there, on the shoreline that acted as a grave. ...someday.
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