The Strength to Carry On
07-01-2013, 04:18 PM
It was rare to see this tiny female angry, but angry she was. Who was this interloper to walk onto their lands and think she could claim them? Didn't she understand that Glaciem was a family? That they would not accept just any new leader? Clearly not. But in time, she would understand. In time. Just give it time. And Ocena would take that time to find Gargoyle, who had vanished from the battlefield, an impressive feat considering how much blood he had lost. A whine slipped through Ocena's jaws at the thought of the crimson pooling around Gargoyle's body, panic filling her thoughts that she fought desperately to control. He wasn't going to die. She wouldn't let him. He wouldn't leave her. Ears pinned back against her skull, Ocena pressed her muzzle to the earth, tracking Gargoyle's form across the grounds. How had he managed to travel so far? A hint of exasperation filled her thoughts as she moved along, shaking her head irritably. Maybe he had had a good reason to wander so far, but Ocena couldn't think for the life of her what had possessed her mate to wander so far from the battlefield when he had been bleeding that much. Which she wasn't going to think about. Because if she thought about how much he had been bleeding, she would think about how much blood a wolf could lose and still live and then she would start to think about how much she couldn't do this without him. So no, she wasn't going to think about that. Instead, pinning her ears against her skull as she came to a stop before the yawning opening that lead into the earth, Ocena shook her head slightly. "Oh, Gargoyle." Her whisper was pained, but after a moment she padded forward, nostrils flaring as more scents began to twine together beneath her nose. Something . . . ursine. A bear? Down here? But wasn't it the bear that Gargoyle had offered his protection to? She remembered the scent. And another wolf, one that she hadn't met personally but one who smelled of Glaciem. A family member, then. The thought brought her comfort in the darkness that pressed in on her from all sides, reminding her far too much of being entirely blind. A shudder passed through her frame as she padded forward, only to come to a stop when she heard yells of her mate's name. That must have been the wolf that she had scented. What was his name? Awol? Something like that, she thought she remembered. The sound of his voice made Ocena pick up her pace, wishing desperately that her eye would adjust more quickly than it was so that this darkness would stop pushing down on her from all directions. It weighed on her shoulders as if it were something physical. It was everywhere. Why had Gargoyle chosen here? The scents and sounds grew louder as Ocena slowed to a halt, peering through the darkness to find her gaze settling on the massive form of . . . Gargoyle? Panic reared its ugly head again, and Ocena took a moment to get it under control before she approached her mate, ignoring the others as she nosed him gently. "Are either of you healers?" Ocena asked, fighting to keep her voice level. She wasn't sure she was successful, but she needed to try. They had to be able to help him. Why couldn't she do this? Why wasn't she a healer? Why couldn't she take care of him? No. Panic wouldn't help anyone. She needed to keep herself under control. She was their leader in the absence of Gargoyle (not the presumptuous youngster who thought she lead Glaciem). She would show them a leader that they could look up to. Ocena took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting to regain control over her body. No more panic. Gargoyle needed a confident, capable caretaker. And maybe that wasn't her, but she would do her best. Speech |