When there is nothing left to say
#1
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OOC: Sooo you never told me if you wanted to do the Coli thing, the Slay thing, or both so I AM DOING THE SLAY THING REGAURDLESS AHAHAHA. But we can still do the Coli thing, if you don’t want to just post with Slay first and Leland will already have all his own materials! Shortness!



Leland had left Cours de Miracle mostly unshaken by what he had learned there. Leroy was to be a father, and as it seemed Lysander as well. Months before he would have been delighted for his brothers, children were such a joy, but worried also. Neither of them were as fit as either him or Lyle. And perhaps jealous. He should have been a father, not either of them. Especially to Catherine, whom had believed it was Leland when Lysander had spread his own seed. Yet two litters would at least carry on their bloodline, even if they weren’t his. Even if he would never see his nieces and nephews. At least he knew.



It was still night when he came to the borders of Dahlia de Mai, but unlike at Aniwaya or Cours de Miracle he did not stop. He moved forward, stumbling on automatic into the heartlands, heading through the thick forest of trees trying to remember his way to the town. On his way he half hearted called out for the piebald male, though how far his weak voice carried he wasn’t sure. In the shadows of the night he didn’t look quite so bad. Still much too thin for his bulky form, the darkness softened the sharp bones that protruded from his hips and sides. In the dark one could not see the dirt that accumulated upon his fur, although the mats that stuck out in wads and clumps were still visible. The sores on his feet that opened nearly as soon as they begun to heal were still there, but harder to see at least. Perhaps, unlike his last two questions, Slay would ask no questions. Like a good friend the Dahlian would just give him what he needed. Somewhere to rest.










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#2
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WC: 440
Pfft, I totally replied to your PM. :> I want to do the Coli thing because that will be the reason she leaves DDM, I just decided. It's Kris's fault. C: But-but, did you want Slay in this same thread later on, or you want I should start a second thread on the same day?




The night was cool, echoes of frost in the chilly breezes that swept from the north. Colibri Haki sat in the shadows of the night, her thin Optime fur standing on end to fight the onset of winter. Once snow fell on the ground, her garden would die. She had not found enough perennials to weather the cold seasons, and she was still patiently and naively waiting for Henratha to introduce her to the greenhouse he built in her honor. His scent had faded, the carpenter had not visited in too long. It was obvious that the big werewolf had left her the building as a parting gift, but she was too obstinate to use it without his express consent. She had at least wanted to say good bye... No one ever gave her that chance anymore.


Her blue eyes gleamed pale in the moonlight as she stood, rubbing her arms to mask a shiver. She should go indoors, light the neglected fireplace, and go to sleep for the night, rather than submit to her insomnia and feel sorry for herself until the sun rose. There were many things she should do. She should visit Anu again, and admit that she had attempted suicide. She should swallow her pride and visit Cercelee, let her know that her loyalties were torn and she might be leaving the flower pack. She should uproot the autumn weeds that were strangling the remnants of her once-pristine garden, and fashion some pots to bring her favorites indoors before the frosts hit. But nothing ever got done.


A weak howl faded in and out of the trees, catching her sensitive ears by surprise. The pathetic voice was not one she recognized - honestly, it was most similar to her own half-hearted attempts at communication. Coli padded down the creaky porch steps on impulse, peering into the forest gloom to try and spot the wanderer. A pack wolf would not sound so weak, would they? Was it a stray? She was too lowly to accept joiners, but she could lead the canine to Cercelee and her mate, if that was what he sought. She lived in the outskirts of town, preferring the seclusion of the nearby trees. Now it seemed like a slightly dangerous oversight, should she be attacked by this nameless male... She swallowed her paranoia, hardening her gaze in an attempt to look fierce.


"Y-you out there, wh-what do you want? Who are you s-seeking?" she stammered thinly, spotting the stumbling figure emerging from the woods. Her tail bristled like a bottlebrush behind her, intimidated by the unknown. If only she was not so alone!



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#3
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OOC: We can just use the same thread. ^^



Leland heard the voice before the blurry figure came into view. He hadn’t realized how weak he really had become, though he knew how pathetic he appeared. Odd colored eyes peered out at the girl, and for a brief moment his old spark returned. She was scared, timid and shy, everything he never had been his whole life and his old habit of trying to put others at ease resurfaced. “Don’ worry lass, I mean no harm.” His voice was gentle and warm, although lacking the strength it once had. Then he remembered himself. Remembered his life. Remembered, or thought he did, that no one else could understand, and that he was alone, alone, alone. The warmth fell out of his eyes, his voice, and again he was just empty, his voice only sad. “Ay… I was lookin’ fer Slay. Ya know of ‘em?”



Wearily he drew closer, his body limp, his eyes downcast. If this girl still did not realize how harmless he was… Leland looked up and faked a smiled, he was too tired these days for anything genuine. “Must apologize fer my state… ya see, I know I don’t look too good...” He breathed heavily, teetered on his feet. Leland blinked up at her, and from some place within him there was ever the need to be polite, even when he knew it didn’t really matter here, not now. “I hope ya don’ mind but I can’t stay standin’ much longer…” Slowly he sunk to the ground, there he held himself up with both arms, looking up at the girl. “My name’s Leland.”










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#4
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WC: 444



The male stepped into her line of sight, and immediately pity washed over Colibri, empathy causing her to catch her breath in awe. This man was a wreck. She could count every bone in his body just by looking at his gaunt frame, and the muddy, matted fur that clung to it. She knew the feeling of absolute rock-bottom, but never before had she seen it in another. Suddenly she realized what her vigilante angel must have felt when he stopped her from killing herself - he must have seen the same hollow look in her eyes as this man, the same inner desolation, the encroaching emptiness. She immediately tasted bile in her mouth, and coughed, trying to compose herself and figure out how to help this poor, pitiable creature.


He was looking for Slay. Slay was the name of Cercelee's mate, wasn't it? The recollection was hazy, but she remembered black and white fur, an odd pattern - not unlike this man's fur, although his had a cinnamon hue by comparison. Perhaps that meant they were related. "I... know where he lives," she admitted softly, her tail curling uncomfortably behind her. She held a silent resentment toward Slay for taking all of Cercelee's time, although of course it was just an excuse for her not to visit. Her ears perked up attentively as the wearied canine stumbled closer, mumbling a weak apology.


"L-leland...!" Coli stammered, dashing to his side as he crumpled to the ground. He must be severely malnourished. Her mind raced to think of what she could give him - she didn't really keep food in the house, preferring to hunt as needed. His stomach must be shrunken anyway, so a drink would be best, and then she could try to make a broth of some sort? "I - I'm Coli, I live right in that house, do you th-think you can make it inside? I'll h-help you," she stuttered anxiously, kneeling alongside him. If he passed out, she could never carry him - as light as he probably was, she was utterly weak and useless.

Talking might keep his mind focused. "I know you must be very tired, but I can only take you to see your brother Slay after you're rested," she rambled, incorrectly guessing at their relationship. "I can make you a nice hot cup of tea. I grow flowers to use for stuff like that - in the morning, you can see them. Well, not all of them are good for you, but they all look nice. Is that something you'd be interested in?"Her tail waved nervously as she tried desperately to say the right thing.



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#5
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Leland nodded as she confirmed she knew where Slay was, but she did not offer to take him there straight away. Instead she offered her home and tea and Leland smiled dully at her kindness. At one time he would have been touched, moved beyond words at the kindness of a stranger. Now he merely accepted it as a fact of this creature, not special and shinning as she might have once appeared to him, just a being who perhaps had more good in her than others did. Yet even if she did, it would not further her, he knew that to be a fact. Nor did he correct her as he once would have; Slay could be his brother, for he was as much as a brother than any of the others. Once, withholding truth would have been akin to lying, now it was merely the way the world functioned, how one got along.



Leland shook his sorry head, his trembling hand extending to her. “Aye, thank you lass but no thanks. I doubt ya have any tea in the world that could help a feller like me.” One warm chocolate eye and one of ice looked over the girl. She was perhaps the kind of female he would have fallen in love with at one time, but now she was only the type he wished to lie to, to trample over. It was how he felt everyone should be treated now, striving to make other feel worse than he himself did. “I get no rest from sleep, no help from food. I’m sick ya see? It won’t leave me, and I can’t leave it. It’s eating away at my insides as we speak.” It was a lie, the first he had ever truly told in his life. The first he had ever been able to tell, and surprisingly it came out smooth and slick, as if he were Leroy and Lysander instead of Leland.



Dully he looked at her, neither ashamed of his lie or the fact he still had not risen. Wearily he dragged himself to his feet, his body shaking as he faced her. More than ever he was weak, the infection from his paws spreading through his body. More than ever he didn’t really care about his physical torment, he just wanted to be released from his own mind, but that… that was not possible. “I’ll come and rest with ya if ya wish it, but then, straight away, ya must take me to see Slay.” Though he knew the male would have nothing to offer him either.




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#6
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WC: 315





"Sick..." she exhaled, her expression nothing short of horrified. An illness was doing this? This poor man, suffering so greatly from something incurable, through no fault of his own? She closed her eyes and wished fervently that Deuce was here; the Shaman would have known exactly what to do with him, her amazing stock of herbs would have solved everything.

But it was just... her. Colibri, no one to call, no one to consult. She was more gardener than herbalist, and had even been trying to cultivate nice harmless flowers rather than the poisonous ones that fascinated her so. Trying to clean up her act so that she would not be a liability any more. But she still had some of her favorites, unable to kick the odd habit completely.


She took his extended hand, clasping it shyly as he struggled to rise to his feet again. Trembling, weak, pitiable. "How long... have you been like this? Sick, I mean," she murmured, trying not to cry. She could feel the bones in his hand, the cracks in his pawpads. Surely she could do something, she had some resources, she could at least ease his pain for a while... right? Try to tackle this disease herself, since he had already given up.

Licking her lips nervously, she nodded towards the cabin, leading him towards the porch steps. He would definitely feel better after she made him a nice hot drink. The green-eyed man that had saved her life, this was how she would repay him, by saving another canine's life! "Of course you'll see Slay, I promise," she soothed, trying to calculate how long a walk it would be from her cabin to the Rosea's church. Not far for a healthy wolf, but the husky looked like he was on his last legs. Maybe she should call Slay here, that might be safer for the invalid.



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#7
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You can have Slay come to him if that will speed this along.



Leland’s eyes, glazed over and seemingly uninterested, took in every minute detail. He could sense the girl’s unease, her unhappiness, the helplessness that shrouded her. And he accepted it all. This was here, there was no changing it, he could not ease her troubled heart, he wouldn’t even try, he didn‘t want to. The words that fell forth were not to make matters worse, but certainly they were not for her benefit. Once the lie had been planted, it grew and Leland wasn’t even sure why he watered it with his words. “It‘s uncurable...” Patiently he looked up at her, his tone just matter of fact. As if he had long ago accepted it, and now so should she.



Partly it was true. He was suffering from life and that was indeed incurable… almost. There was one quick fix, or slow fix depending on the method, but for every soul that suffered from life, and every soul at one point or another does, few take that route. Yet life did not normally ravage the body in such a way that left one looking as Leland did. If a sickness of the body had taken hold, Leland had been too absorbed in his emotional turmoil to notice.



Shakily he reached his hand out to the girl, as if to take comfort in her presence. Any maybe he would, though since Lyla he had not intentionally touched anyone. “I don‘t mean to bother ya miss, but I would like to see my brother soon.” Leland didn’t actually know what he would say when he saw the male, they had only briefly been friends and the husky whom Slay had last seen wasn’t the same pathetic shell who sought him now. Hopefully Slay wouldn't be too startled by his apperance, as Leland realized he did have one favor to ask of the male.




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#8
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WC: 594



Coli felt her skin crawl as she realized what this stranger was asking for. Had he somehow known that he had stumbled upon the one wolf in Dahlia that coveted poison? Had he been fortunate enough that she was also easily pressured into committing acts she did not entirely believe in? Her lower lip trembled, staring with a dawning horror into his hollow mismatched gaze. She was touching a corpse. She automatically caught his outstretched hand, unable to suppress the slight shudder that his cracked pads invoked.


Silently, the werewolf swallowed, trying to steel her nerves. Being physically and mentally weak, she had always thought of poison as her own personal defense, something she could rely on. Now that she had a chance to try her mettle, to ply her skill... she needed to force herself to do this. The angel that had pulled her from the brink of death, she had wanted to repay him by saving this man's life. But he was too far gone, and she would have to embody a different breed of mercy.


"I... I'll make you a special tea..." she gulped, squeezing his withered hand with her trembling fingers. "If you drink all of it... you'll feel better. I promise the pain will go away." She tried to hold his eyes meaningfully, but a pang in her chest forced her to drop her gaze. Did this make her a murderer? She was going to kill someone. Premeditated homicide. The words kept repeating in her mind, and she tried to block out the image of her packmates' accusatory glares. She said nothing else as she slipped inside her cabin, leaving the door ajar in case the ill man decided to shuffle inside after her. She couldn't bear to look at his pathetic gaze any longer, though.


Colibri knelt on the dusty floor, picking up a small flowerpot that had been carefully hidden behind the curtain of the kitchen window. The plant was rather wilted, but still potent, the small purple flowers like stars underneath the streaming moonlight. Trembling, she reached out her claws, pinching the blossoms and letting them flutter down to the counter. For good measure, she decided to strip the leaves, too. A massive overdose of deadly nightshade. She had swallowed one stem, and it had nearly stopped her heart in minutes. This man was so underweight, and she was giving him more than triple the toxins. It would be as close to instant as she could manage. A sob caught in her throat, but she managed to tip back her muzzle and hitch a weak howl, a half-hearted call for Slay. If the Rosea's mate didn't arrive quickly, there would be nothing to say other than an epithet.


Colibri emerged from the cabin, stirring a steaming mug of drink. It hadn't taken long to light the neglected fireplace, to heat the dribble of streamwater left in the battered kettle. Maybe this man didn't care, but she did, she wanted him to have something warm on a night so cold. She pressed the cup into his weak hands, folding his fingers around the handle. Her throat was too choked to say a word, but she managed to nod to him, encouraging him. She knew what it was like to be at rock-bottom. She couldn't deny him this, not if there was no one in this world who could raise his flagging spirits. If there was anyone who loved this man, they would not have let him suffer so. If she was wrong... she would accept their consequences.



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#9
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ooc: uhh, not sure when this happened chronologically, but I'm going to call it fairly recent since Leland's still around, so Slay can be shifted.


Slay yawned, snuggling closer to his mate's warm fur. He couldn't quite fall asleep, though she was slumbering peacefully in his heavy arms. The arctic wolf smiled dozily, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She kept him happy. He had that troubling feeling that something unpleasant was on the horizon, because good things could never last, but... for now, in their idyllic halcyon, he could lose himself in her.
A faint howl sounded outdoors, muffled through the walls of the church. His white-tipped ears flicked. He didn't recognize the feminine call, but it sounded nearby, too deep in the heart of their territory to be anything but a packmate. Assuming whomever she was was merely hunting and calling for help, he grunted, nudging Cercelee's slim arms delicately away. As Head Hunter, this really fell under his jurisdiction... and he'd be back in moments to warm up beneath the covers.
The burly Luperci lumbered over the threshold, his wide footpaws padding lightly over the dewy grass. Pale eyes scanned the gloom, trying to locate where he was being summoned. He hardly knew anyone in the pack anymore, and no doubt they wouldn't recognize him, the recluse. If he had to introduce himself, it would take more precious time away from his mate... Sighing, the broad-chested male tested the faint breeze, trying to pinpoint where he was going.

To his surprise, it wasn't a deer that he scented, but an old friend, long forgotten with the changing of the seasons. "Leland..." he breathed, a slow smile wreathing his muzzle. That wandering husky had drifted back here, had he? Cercelee would have to forgive him for not being there when she awoke. Leland's rare visits took precedence. He hastened his pace, veering through the trees to emerge before a small cabin, surrounded by a shabby picket fence. Intermittent smoke rose in wisps from the small chimney, and as he drew nearer, one of two shadowy figures noticed him. The female started sobbing and scurried back into the house, slamming the door behind her. Perplexed, Slay's eyes fell on the other figure, the gaunt red and white skeleton that languished before him. That couldn't be... "H... ello?" he rumbled cautiously, ice-pale eyes sharp with concern. Not Leland, not a chance. What had happened to the jolly friend he once knew?


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#10
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Leland looked at the girl, as she comprehended his meaning and took initiative. Her words, but more over her inability to hold his gaze, told him that indeed he was lucky. This girl knew how to cure him, the only cure he wanted, to only cure he had convinced him would heal him, whatever his affliction was. Could one die of a broken heart? If one chose to let it kill them. Yet it was more than that, not just his heart, but his spirit too. His whole view of how the world should work had come crumbling to pieces and Leland, gentle spirit that he had been, wasn’t able to live in reality any longer. The world was full of hatred and evil doers, of lying, cheating, stealing and a plethora of other crimes. The tiny silver linings on the large looming storm clouds were not enough to sustain him anymore. Perhaps he was doing the world a disserve when he took the tea from her, but he didn’t care about the world anymore. Besides, so greatly had he changed from the creature he once was that he didn’t bring any light to the world anymore either.



Leland took the cup of steaming liquid from the girl gratefully, his smile sad and sincere. Slowly he brought it to his lips but before he could take a sip Slay was there, and the girl rushed into her cabin, leaving the two men alone. Leland couldn’t think of her anymore, what trouble this act might cause her. The world was full of trouble and she was bound to get her share, too bad it involved him. Bi-color eyes lift to the black and white male and Leland smiled again, almost happy to see his old friend. “Slay… I just…” He paused, if he took too long the male might understand, might stop him. In one swift motion, too swift perhaps for someone in his state, Leland gripped the cup in both hands and disappeared the liquid with one big swallow. “I just want to rest here… okay?”

What he meant of course was that he wanted to rest here forever, that this was to be his final resting place. Dahlia de Mai, as it was as good as any. He didn’t get to clarify as the light seemed to seer his eyes, he recognized nothing anymore for all his vision went blurry and he didn’t know if he reached out to Slay or not as he staggered forward and then fell down upon the ground, his body slightly twitching until, only moments later it was still. Whether he felt pain or not, Leland couldn’t have told anymore, it had all gone too fast, but in his mind’s eye there was Lyla and Rue and their family, and in the background, him, always hovering, waiting for a life he could never have.




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