Fern lays on the furs that are piled in the middle of her and Rudy’s room. The doors to the balcony have been flung wide open and, to help stave off the chill in the night air, a happy, crackling fire has been started in the fireplace. Stars twinkle in their heavenly home, sparkling at the gray girl resting upon the furs, their beauty going unnoticed by her. She is lost in her thoughts, mulling over the hunt she had led and how badly she had messed it up. Head lays on pale paws as she stares blankly out the open doors. What if things had gone differently? What if she had gotten someone killed because of her lack of preparation? Blinking slowly, she turns her ocean-hued gaze to the sword that lays propped up close by. Why had she chosen that day to leave her sword here? Had she been too cocky?

The soft snores of her stoat friend pull her eyes over to the basket where Puff is curled up in the furs. She could have gotten Puff killed. And Bowen. Fern had seen the fear and anxiety her decisions had caused her and that, above all else, made the gray girl feel horrible. A log in the fireplace pops and sends a small spark up the chimney. As comfortable as the gray girl is, Fern has the sudden need to talk to Bowen. These hours are when Rudyard is the busiest and Fern is usually getting get ready to sleep. The days have been long and tiring and she can feel their toll in the heaviness of her body… but the need to talk to Bowen takes precedence.

She stands, rolling her tense shoulders and shaking out her coat before silently moving to the door. Slipping out into the hallway, Fern quietly makes her way two doors down to the room that caramel and cream wolf occupies. Hesitating a moment, Fern steels her nerves and lifts a paw to rap her knuckles gently against the wooden door. Softly, so as not to disturb any sleeping wolves, Fern calls out, “Bowen? Can I talk to you?” She waits for permission to enter or orders to leave.


"Fern Lark"

Bowen didn't sleep much. Not anymore. She'd broken things off with Haiku, which made her feel horrible. She'd committed herself to Artorias, but he was marrying Briar, which shouldn't have bothered her, but it completely did. Bowen was horrible at dealing with her emotions, having never learned how to cope with them due to her early enslavement. The woman was... a mess, to put it lightly.

The light in the dark lately had been Tej. The giant copper and cream tiger had been there for her during the nights when she struggled. Yes, she had purchased him for that reason, but he really did do his best with her. Bowen felt so safe and comfortable curled up against the big cat at night. That was exactly where she was when the knocking sounded at her door. Bowen lifted her head from Tej's haunch and slid from the protective circle of his massive body. The cat lifted an eye, shooting her a curious glance with one emerald orb and Bowen gave him a pat. "It's okay, I'll be back," she assured him before moving across the door, her long tail hissing over the stone.

Lifting the latch, Bowen was more than a little surprised to see Fern standing there. The larger woman looked as though there was something on her mind. The caramel and cream fae slipped from the room and motioned for Fern to follow. Together the pair made their way down to the great hall where Bowen proceeded to make some tea over the always burning fire. When a dish for each was laid out between two large cushions before the fire, Bowen gave the grey woman her full attention, holding her dish of still hot tea between pink pads.

"Bowen"

The knock is answered quickly, Bowen appearing as the door creaks inward. Fern has never been good at hiding her emotions and tonight is no different. The inner turmoil she feels rolls across her face and the caramel and cream wolf slips out of her room. Without a word, Bowen signals for the gray girl to follow her, which she does. It is a quiet trek to the great hall, the women moving silently through the candle lit halls. Bowen moves to the fire and begins to make tea which allows Fern a moment to settle into one of the large cushions by the fire. Her shoulders are tense and the muscles in her neck are chorded from the stress she feels. Eyes latch onto the crackling fire while she allows her mind to wander.

Only when the tea in laid before her does Fern’s attention snap back to the present. She mumbles a soft thank you as she picks up the dish between her paws and pulls it up toward her face. Inhaling deeply, Fern enjoys the sweet, floral scent of the tea and a small smile pulls at her lips as she looks to Bowen. Paws lower the dish as uncertainty causes her voice to stick for a moment. Clearing her throat, Fern begins softly, “I… I needed to apologize to you. The hunt didn’t go the way I thought it would. I was too eager to prove myself and I could have gotten any one of you killed.”

A soft, deep sigh escapes as Fern pauses to take a sip of the tea, her suddenly dry throat enjoying the soothing warmth. Casting her eyes down to dish with her tea, the girl lifts a paw and absently runs her paw pad around the edge. After a moment, she says, “But… more than that, I want to apologize for not taking the time to speak with you more. You mean a lot to Rudyard and I… would like to get to know you better.” Eyes slowly move up to capture Bowen’s emerald gaze, a pang of sadness resounds through her as she remembers her mother’s own bright green gaze. Eyes fall back down her paw and the dish, unable to look Bowen right now.


"Fern Lark"

With the ladies resting on their cushions, Fern began to speak. Bowen was surprised when the grey woman began to apologize. Green eyes blinked a few times, but she stayed silent, letting Fern finish. It seemed as though Bowen's apprehension and nervousness had been noted by the larger fae during the hunt. Instantly the caramel woman felt guilty. She hadn't wanted to ruin anything for Fern, nor had she wanted her to have any ill feelings towards her or about her. Ugh.

Bowen was just about to open her mouth to try and alleviate the negative feelings that Fern was sharing when the woman continued. Bo kept her silence, listening again. Fern was now apologizing for not getting to know Bowen better and finally, she couldn't stand it any more. One sable colored paw reached out, settling on Fern's pale paw. "No, Fern," she began, giving her head a shake. "The way that I acted at the hunt, that was all on me." The small woman gave a soft, huffing chuckle. "I'm an emotional mess on a good day. I was just nervous about everything then. Don't worry about it."

Inhaling deeply, Bowen released a long, slow breath, settling both paws back on her dish of still hot tea once more. "As for getting to know me, I don't make it easy." Viridian eyes watched the steam rise from the hot tea. "I tend to stick to myself or stay in my room. It's hard to get to know others, you know?" Bowen squinted a little, trying to get her thoughts in line. "I'm not very good with emotions and my anxiety is sometimes unbearable, so I try not to be around." She then lifted her gaze, resting it on Fern's troubled features. "I do appreciate the sentiment though," she assured the woman, and even managed a smile.

"Bowen"

Pale paw lightly circles the rim of her dish of tea and she watches the way the steam curls off the hot liquid. The fire crackles and pops merrily, warming her coat and the surrounding area. Fern cannot look at Bowen, the shame she feels is too overwhelming. Then, a small russet paw comes to rest over one of own pale paw and the gray girl forces herself to meet the emerald gaze of the caramel and cream woman. Bowen speaks and Fern listens, empathy growing for the smaller woman. She offers the caramel fae a soft smile as the paw withdraws, her ocean-hued eyes never leaving those intense viridian eyes. Bowen continues to speak and Fern nods slowly, offering her a smile when Bowen gives her one.

Eyes track down to her tea and the gray girl takes a long pull of the hot liquid. It soothes her throat as it passes, carrying its warmth down into her belly where it spreads out through her body. Giving a content sigh, Fern looks to Bowen and says, “This tea is wonderful.” She smiles before clearing her throat and continuing on, “Thank you Bowen. You are too kind. I worry… a lot. It’s… something that I am working on.” A smile flutters across her face before she says softly, “Also, I understand what anxiety feels like. If you ever need someone to talk to or just to listen to you, I am here for you.” This time, she reaches out a pale paw toward Bowen, placing it on her sable paw in an attempt to comfort.

After a moment, she puts her paw back on the dish and an idea suddenly comes to Fern. If Bowen doesn’t like to talk about herself, maybe she can get the caramel and cream woman to tell funny stories about her family. It would be a round about to get information about her but Fern decides to give it a try. Lifting the dish to her lips, she says, “So what do you think of Rudy’s antlers? Has anything that crazy ever happened to you guys before?” Taking a long sip, Fern looks over the rim at the viridian eyes of Bowen, a smile slowly working its way onto her face.


"Fern Lark"

Bowen, for the most part, kept her eyes on the caramel swirl of her tea. Pink padded paws gently twirled the dish in her grasp. Eventually, she took a tentative sip. Still hot, but it didn't burn her tongue, at least. Fern soon admitted her own anxiety and the caramel and cream woman nodded. She understood that many wolves dealt with such feelings. Surely Fern could understand why Bowen kept to herself then. It was just easier that way. Still, the grey woman offered an ear if it was ever needed and Bowen smiled again. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Fern went on to change the subject, asking what Bowen thought of Rudyard's antlers and asking if anything had ever happened to them when they were younger. Bowen's rust colored ears slanted backwards. "Umm... his antlers are fine," she replied, then her voice became softer. "I don't remember much from when we were pups. I was stolen at a very young age and sent off on a slave ship." She was so tired of telling this story. It was such a huge part of her and really, she just wished that she could forget it. But... she didn't want to lie either.

"I'm sorry," Bowen spoke after a moment. "I can't really tell you about our childhood. Maybe Rudyard remembers some things." The time before she was stolen, all that Bowen really remembered was Artorias and Haiku. She remembered her companions. She remembered her dead mother's face. Aside from that, it was all mist and shadow.

"Bowen"