Out of the frying pan, into the fire
#1
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She could feel the salt, thick in the air like another's breath. It clung to the air, clung to her skin. It was almost uncomfortable, like someone breathing down her neck. The slim gray wolfess tread slowly, still mindful of dull twinges in her shoulder and side. She walked on four legs, her mind not really lingering on anything for too long. She had needed an escape from Phoenix Valley, finding it almost impossible to avoid Jefferson at this point. She hadn't seen him since before the incident at the borders and hoped to keep it that way. She had spent much of her recovery time in the Ranch, and had been lucky not to run into the one-eyed Patriarch. Still, with the sun high in the sky, it seemed a good opportunity to escape his attention while she still could.

Geneva had considered going to Crimson Dreams to visit Savina and her pups, but found that she was instead in the mood for solitude. She stayed inside herself, without much to ponder in particular. She had done her thinking about the attack and the strange animal with the yellow eyes. And while she was still frightened and still woke at night with her heart pounding from relived dreams of the incident, she could rationalize now. She could remove herself, step back and think logically. She considered the way he had acted, the words he had spoken. Had there been a way to get through to him? She felt nauseous just at the thought of facing him again.

She felt the sand on the pads of her feet, small grains shifting as she stepped. Green eyes looked down at her feet, noting the trail she had left behind in the semi-slick sand. It was almost low tide, the ocean drawing back into itself. She saw the mouth of a cave in the distance, behind high rocks, and was content to sit and ponder its mysteries. She would rather not explore today, and instead let her imagination take her far-off, unknown places. It was far safer that way.

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#2
It was a pretty day, Brennt thought. It was uncomfortable to feel, but it was nice to look at. Brennt walked forlornly down the shoreline, thinking very innocent, simplistic thoughts to himself as he tried to settle down. He had just gotten over feeling very bad for a long time when he considered what his mother would think if she knew he was still eating puppies. That question always made him feel bad, but if he let the questions keep coming, slow though they might come, they invariably led him back to the conclusion that his mother must surely hate him for eating her new favorites, which elicited both resentment and horrible sadness from him in equal measure. Brennt wasn't very good about consoling himself or consolidating his emotions, and it was this slow-moving cycle in his thoughts which often drove him to becoming upset and desperate, which eventually led to his desire for children, because he could always remember the surge of relief he had felt after eating his younger siblings that day, the day that he had finally become too upset about the changes to do nothing anymore.

It had been a very stressful experience, living in this place. Brennt wasn't sure why he didn't move on. He knew why he hadn't settled down, though. The memory of Pallok's cruelty, Fern's casual disgust and Hylfi's condescending sympathy stayed with him. He thought maybe he liked Osric best, even though he knew Osric must have hated him for eating his first litter. Osric had feared Brennt a little bit, and had left him alone most of the time. The only thing Osric did that was bad was not welcoming Brennt into the pack...nothing had gone wrong between him and Osric, but that was because nothing had gone on between them, really. Brennt had a hard time considering the fine details, or even remembering them. That felt like forever ago. Now, he had lots of new people to worry about, and they were even more confusing than the last pack had been. Cwmfen had attacked him, then loved him, then attacked him again. So many wolves hated him before they even met him, like that gray and white wolf he'd hurt bad, and the eagle-wolf (as he referred to Dawali in his mind). He'd never been in so much trouble without doing anything before.

It was all the trouble he was getting into these days, as well as his solitude which invariably led to considerations of his mother, that drove him so often to the hunger of children. He hadn't thought about it consciously, but he was getting hungry for them much more often, now. He had already eaten three, and the stress still wasn't all the way gone. He was beginning to worry a little bit...What if it stopped going away at all? That thought scared him, and so he didn't have it very much. Unknown to him, he even now approached someone who he'd met before, and who very much did not want to meet him again.
#3
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After several moments, she felt peacefulness fall over her. She had become used to solitude. But out here, amidst the quiet of the waves, she found that she didn't feel so alone. She had never actively sought to stand in the spotlight. Instead, she tended toward the shadows and the quiet of her own thoughts. But recently, she felt as though she had isolated herself far too much, and felt occasional pangs of hunger for the company of others. At least here she didn't feel that loneliness pushing so hard against her chest. At least here, she could breathe.

She sighed, stretching out like a large cat. She bowed her back, raising her head slightly as she rolled her shoulders, listening to bits of pressure points popping. She had taken to sitting still for far too long. The grayscale female paced without much direction, threading a lazy line in the sand as she half-heartedly tried to bring warmth back to her body, momentum back to her muscles. Pondering for long lengths of time was often a sedentary matter, and despite the lassitude within her mind, her body yearned to feel the flow of strength once more.

Lime green eyes lingered on the distant surf, occasionally sweeping the sandy distance before her as she ambled on without direction. And suddenly she spotted a shape looming in the distance. Her heart began to beat wildly before her mind had even registered who or what it might be, her legs beginning to tremble. Geneva blinked twice, her mouth hanging open slightly as she saw a hulking shape that was slowly but surely making its way toward her across the beach. Her breath stilled in her throat as she stood, trapped as an animal in headlights. She felt like a prey animal, mesmerized by the sight of a majestic predator.

She could see the yellow of his eyes now, even though he was several yards away. She was focusing so hard on his face that it seemed to grow to encompass the entirety of her vision. Logical thought fled her as instinct overtook her body, seizing control as panic curled down toward the pit of her stomach. Her body suddenly ached again from a beating long gone by. Phantom pain flared to life within her, unfurling like a terrible black flag. This time, her body remembered what a predator could do, and without one thought she turned around and ran for cover, not quite knowing where cover was yet.

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#4
My apologies, I usually get on threads right away, I don't know why I slowed down last week.


Brennt continued thinking to himself, that slow and bothersome process which invariably led to false conclusions and the foundations of further trouble for the big wolf. He just lacked the insight to improve his situation. He wasn't old enough to have the wisdom, and he wasn't smart enough to think of the solutions that he needed to make his problems go away, or at least sink down lower. The world, to him, was very different than it was for other people, and one thing he had trouble readily considering was just how fast news spread, and how much went on that he could not see. Not that news of him had spread like wildfire, but what he feared concerning one person telling on him to another person was very different from the reality. He had never been in a large society like this one, and the idea of anyone outside of a pack hearing about him, or the incidents of the past months being anything but highly localized occurrences, weren't things that he could piece together.

Lost in his simple, ponderous thoughts, Brennt came upon a cave. He hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings, and had missed the scent of wolf entirely under the salty smell of the sea breeze. He had no idea he wasn't alone, and because of the nature of his thoughts, and all the stresses and words and confusions that went along with them, the predator was far away right now. It was Brennt, and only Brennt, who poked his nose around the rocky edge of the opening, and decided to walk in. He had never seen anything like this before, it was a completely new sight, and it easily swept away all of the immaterial concerns he had been dwelling on. This was new, this was interesting.

This was spooky. Brennt had very rarely been afraid of a place. Generally, places were wide and open and fresh, anywhere in the outdoors was like that, and he liked that. There had been unused buildings in Nowry Village that he hadn't wanted to go into as a pup, but all the buildings he had gone into always had adults in them, and the comfort of knowing a grownup was inside always overrode any misgivings he had. Besides, grownups never went inside a building unless it had some kind of lighting, like candles or windows open to the daylight. This place, though...he could see some ways into the cave, but it was darker, and cooler than the outside. Suddenly, his imagination began to slowly, vaguely consider what might be in there that he couldn't see. He wasn't sure if he liked this new, interesting place.


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