Bawn: Western Forest(#3018RAh)
Tall Sitka spruce and sequoia crowd around and above you. Many of the trees are old, their branches twisted into impossible shapes, trunks broad and draped with lichen, mosses and creepers. Tendrils of moss hand down from them like green spiderwebs, snaring the unwary with cold, ghostly fingers. The patches of younger growth are dense and pale, needles tinged with silver. Matted undergrowth huddles sullenly in the occasional small clearings, clutching with thorns and burrs at the legs of those who would pass. Deer seldom venture here, but the forest is full of rustlings, and tiny glints from wary, watchful eyes.
The forest spreads out to the east, bounded on the west by Sunrise Road. From farther to the west, one can occasionally hear the distant sounds of the town of Kent's Crossing.
Contents:
Hope-Star(#4138POVceq$)
Obvious exits:
Highway 22 Overgrown Path Deer Path Sunrise Road Farmhouse Caern of the Hidden Walk Creek Central Bawn Southern Bawn Northern Bawn

Hope-Star is a small bloody knot curled up next to a large bloody crinos, the latter sleeping heavily. The latter's wounds seem to come from bulletholes in her gut and chest. The former's seem to be crinos clawmarks.

What the Gnawer is doing out in the godawful hours of the night, in the middle of a forest, is anyone's guess. Her movements are gaining stealth though, as she walks along the floor with light crunches underfoot. The smell of blood is heavy, and it attracts the newmoon easily as any possible predator. As she comes upon the small and large forms, her eyes widen a bit. Ok, more than a bit. They widen a lot as she barely makes out the jackal's form. "Sepdet?"

Hope-Star's head is lifting as Yi approaches, the little Strider tense and watchful. Her tail skips the ground as she catches the fainter scent of friend over the smells of recent struggle. (The ground here is also churned up and trampled). Sister. Quietly, now.

Yi evidently has been travelling for a long while. Her clothes, plain in a warm sweatshirt and sweatpants, show signs of being through brush and dirt. The newmoon's hands shake slightly as she kneels beside the jackal to examine what little she can make out. "What..." Yi shakes her head. No need to finish the question. Her breath is shallow, throat dry from either hard breathing, or fear. A trembling set of fingers brush off some dirt upon the jackal's forehead.

Hope-Star licks Yi's fingers lightly. I'll heal. She was shot, and she is sick in her head. She frenzied when I tried to take out the bullets. I had to stop her from running away.

Yi dares to switch her gaze away from the lupus to look at the unconscious crinos. A distinct scent of fear mixes with the rancid smell of blood, the Gnawer's body tense with energy unreleased mingling with the violent tinge to the environment around her. "I.. don't recognize her." It's clear that Yi is trying very, very hard to not do something, evidenced by the way she almost stares at the monstrous bloody warform.

Hope-Star's manner grows visibly calm, her body settling subtly as if anchoring herself to the world tree. Bloodsinger. A Strider Galliard. She's been hurt in her head somehow. I think it's wearing off now; she's not twitching anymore.

Yi's body gives an involuntary shudder before she gets up and moves a little bit further from the crinos. Hurt in the head... frenzying... blood. Coupled with the new moon, Yi is not exactly stable even if she's not hurt at all. In attempts to throw her own mind off, she tries humming lightly. Any notes, any tune, anything. The impromptu tune fades quickly though, and she's back to staring between jackal and crinos.

Hope-Star rises to her feet and moves away from the prone form, drawing Yi's gaze. Come. It's all right. I am a healer, and things around me heal. In time.

Yi finds a dark tree's base to sit down under, wrapping up her knees. For a minute or so, she puts her head inside her arms and concentrates on breathing. Meditation calmed her before, during the past nights. Her voice though, comes in a quiet whisper. "I tried to find myself. These past few nights. Only to find, that I am only more lost." A wavering shiver in her tone holds back with stubborn will. "One part wants to run swift... Another wants to hide in terror. And still another wants to fight and kill." The newmoon tenses and lets go in a short, shallow sigh. "I don't want to change... it hurts. It will burn... and bring pain, and blood."

Hope-Star circles her once. Yes. But sometimes you have to pull out the barb, so that the wound can heal. You can do it. You are still Salmon--more than ever, for you have gone back up the river to your home, dashed yourself on the rocks, and returned to the wide world. You bleed, you hurt. Sometimes the current takes you for a while. But you have a core of strength in you.

"I am not strong," Yi protests quietly, the inner voice inside her dampened underneath a tempest of confusion and memories. Again her body jolts with fleeting twitch of tension, as if it were rioting against her.

Hope-Star looks up into Yi's eyes, searching. There is some part of you very deep which nothing touches. But it has gone into hiding. Small and close. What do you love, my friend?

Yi finds herself locking gazes with the jackal. For a long, silent set of minutes she simply stares straight at the Strider. What is it she loves? At first, there's simply blank. Nothing. And slowly it fills in - the sound of the waves splashing gently against the docks, the sight of the sun setting across the watery horizon and sending brilliant colors of fire and shade into the sky... Then the images come faster and faster. Flashes of faces bolt through her mind, young and old, human and wolf, family and friends. Scenes run past her, thoughts and emotion swirl. Unknowingly tears well in the asian girl's dark eyes as she recognizes each and every one of them. Her jaws clench, throat tightening with a sharp, almost tangible feeling grow inside. A need, held within a pocket that is coming loose at the seams.

Hope-Star urges softly, Hold onto these. They are you. They are in you, and nothing can take them from you. The Strider stops circling and finds Yi's knee, pressing against her, some of the dried blood flaking off her fur from wounds too raw for night's shadow to conceal altogether.

Yi is still as a stone when the jackal presses against her. Then she balks, back against the tree. Eyes burning with liquid fire streaming to cool her cheeks, the Gnawer twists away, scrambling frmo the tree. Palms hit the stamped on ground and claw at the dirt. Then... the seams burst wide open. The sound of clothes tearing follows, literally shredding into pieces as Yi's form explodes from a small girl into a darkly colored monster. A whine pushes its way out of her lungs, quickly turning into a full-on howl. Anguish and relief flood together in a wild foray that rages loose from the Gnawer without any stops. A flood of withheld wolfsong fills the night air, spilling over like a roaring cascade.

Yi contorts and blurs as she is transformed. You shift into Crinos.

Hope-Star's enjoyment and relief are tempered by concern--she shoots a glance towards the sleeping crinos who is her other charge. Bloodsinger quivers and twitches, perhaps a soft moan, but doesn't quite wake, and Sepdet adds her own shimmering bell-like howl, rising up and up beneath Yi's wild flood.

Breath after breath, the crinosed Gnawer continues to howl with no fear, no timid tremble finding its niche in her wolven bellow. Everything mixes into itself; sadness, anger, grief, pain, happiness, love, peace, hope... the only thing that changes is the strength behind it all, growing ever so slowly stronger with each call to the wilds. Eventually, the Gnawer's howls fade into the darkness, echoing off the forest sky. Black ears prick to listen to the remnants of her tones, before the hulk of her body flomps down rather ungracefully onto her haunches. Her head droops, exhaustion pulling at her. Golden amber eyes seek out familiarity in the dark, finding the jackal again.

Black steady eyes with a glimmer of fading fire, the echo of the howl made visible, meet the other wolf's. There you are. Oh /there/ you are. A mixture of pride, relief, concern and fondness emanates out from the small Strider's alert posture, leaning towards her, almost muzzle to muzzle. In fact, gently, the Strider licks Yi's nose.

Three-Blades' tongue peeks out from her oversize fangs, as if to check in that it is there too. Gold met with black, and in the Gnawer's own way the wolf inside tips back. I am here. I am /here/. Then, her black ears splay as she looks down at herself. Her muzzle sniffs, needing to register again her own scent. Fur sticks up, feeling no pain and only the twists of wind that ruffle through. She is alive once more.

Hope-Star shivers once, a memory that is so beautiful it's painful, taking in the Gnawer's form with her eyes as if trying to memorize it for a rite. She doesn't disturb the moment with any comment, content to stand as close as a shadow, tail swaying faintly behind her.

It is like being born again... in that sense, the newmoon stays paused in a stance. Muzzle pointed at the stars, she takes in the world around her through wolf's senses. When the night sounds begin again with their underlying symphony, the Gnawer's ears twitch. To the jackal again, the crinos refers to for some confirmation that this is indeed happening. Her nose scents both blood and Strider amidst the cornucopia of smells that assault her. A couple of blinks later, the Gnawer's silent query comes to her eyes. And now what?

Hope-Star's tail skips into more full-fledged laughter. You have to find out everything all over again. How to breathe, to run, to hunt, to taste the umbra with courage. You find your strength. You take each day as it comes, and don't fret if sometimes the fear comes back--don't push yourself. When you're ready to face the foe with us again, you'll know. When you're ready to take on the city again with your tribe, you'll know.

Three-Blades' ears flicker on instinct. The Gnawer doesn't realize her own actions, her quiet pant pushing out puffs of air, her long tail flickering from side to side in thought. Slowly though, she tries standing. The feeling is foreign, to be standing on the balls of her toes. Her tail hangs loosely downwards, and the Gnawer towers over the small jackal to get a crinos-eye view. Whoa.

Hope-Star tilts her head upwards, ears pricked attentively. Okay?

Three-Blades slips her tongue out in a lupine motion towards a smile. Okay. Then her gaze shifts towards the other in this small clearing, prone in the grass. A querying growl issues forth, again through instinct of language. What of the other?

Hope-Star sighs. I must stay and watch over her until she awakens. Will you ba all right, my friend/? I will be here if you need me.

Three-Blades nods, muzzle arcing up and down a couple of times in a seemingly natural gesture for the strange creature. Eyes meet again at a distance, with the Gnawer's end filling in quiet gratitude. The healer has done her job, and continues to do it well. Thank you. With a short swish of her tail to pivot, the newmoon walks back towards the darker brushlines. The rustle of her form eventually fades away, leaving the Strider alone again in silent company.

Hope-Star follows her packmate with her eyes, some long-settled weight having receded from the Strider's own posture. Walk well, the elder whispers with more meaning than usual. Walk well, my frined. She returns to the unconscious Strider's side and sinks down.