THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME The dark furred male woke with a groan, head full of cotton. For a few moments, he was completely unaware of where he was. his heart rate spiked, adrenaline surging as chills rolled through his body. Then, his brain began to pick up. He was in a safe place, for the first time in his life. His body had been ready to quit on him, and it wasn't thrilled by the prospect of continuing to maintain his existence any longer. A few shallow breaths brought the aroma of mulch into his nostrils, and the heady smell of grasses. All of the sudden, he felt content to continue laying where he was. Relaxation became a distant dream as his bad leg began to radiate pain from his toes to the middle of his spine. He'd been stagnant too long, and the joints were in agony. Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to meter out the pain in his ribs as a result of the stretch of his diaphragm. Grimacing against the pain, he flexed his toes. Rhythmically spreading and retracting them, working the muscles. Then, he rotated his paw as much as it would go. With the severed tendon in his lower leg, it was tough. Up, down, one side, the other. Roll the paw as much as he could. Work the strain out. Now for the difficult part. The muscles of his thigh had been mutilated many moons ago, and didn't work so well. He relied on his hip flexors for the most part, to draw his leg in towards his body. Deep breath in, and bring the leg up in the same movement. It hurt, almost too much to bear. He'd had broken ribs before, he knew the pain. It was familiar, and he knew when he was pushing the limits of their integrity. Stretch the leg back out, and then draw it part of the way in again. That would do for now. He let out a deep breath, trying to avoid panting with the exertion. It would only make his ribs hurt more. Slowly, he opened his eyes to the light of the late morning. The birds were chattering softly between one another. Overhead, the tall grasses swayed against each other, making soft shushing sounds. He liked the ambiance of this little haven. Lifting his head from his paws, he examined his crippled hind leg. The muscles were seizing up every now and again, protesting the stretches. He knew better than not to work the muscles, after such a long time of having a lame leg. Lounging like a sphynx, he let his acidic gaze flit about curiously. This was one of the first days he felt truly aware again, more like himself. More alive. If he could manage it, he might try and stand up, take a short walk. It would be good for him. "speech"

She made it her business to keep a watchful eye over the man who had stumbled, half dead, upon her border. She had taken him in as one of her own, and knew she would protect him from whatever had chased him here. That fierce, protective nature was rearing its head again. Epitaph was hers. Just as Spider and Tana where. Not in the sense of slaves, but as precious pack members that were injured, mentally, physically, or both. The wolves she swore to protect, and watch over. So when she saw him, lying in the grass, aching and stretching his muscles, pain in his eyes and breath, she paused, mouth holding the coyote coat she had cured carefully for use as a bedding. It had been one of the coyotes that had taken up residence in the old pack territory near Abaven, and had taken an interest in picking off young wolves. She had been careful to eradicate the ones Ace himself hadn’t killed. Regardless, it offered a warm and comfortable place to sleep, rather then the damp earth. Winter was approaching, and the evenings could be cold. She placed the bedding on the ground before her, and murmured softly for Feather to fly off and fetch her some things. By the time her bird returned to her, herbs in talon, Epitaph had finished working threw his muscles and was starting to look about himself curiously. “Good morning, how are you feeling today?” she asked him after she had dragged the Coyote coat a little closer, and laid it down beside him. “I brought some Boneset for the cramps.” she nodded her head upwards towards Feather, who fluttered down and dropped her burden before the Alpha. She had also rubbed Lavender into the bedding, to aid in sleep and calm stress. ""

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME She appeared first in the corner of his vision, a dark blur in his peripherals that made his heart stutter a beat. Skull whipped towards her as quick as he could manage, straining the tender muscles. Wide eyes, whites rolling. He stared at her blankly for a moment, before his brain caught up. Auds tipped back towards his skull, still wary of what she might decide to do. There was a pelt at her feet, golden brown but not reeking of ichor. “Good morning, how are you feeling today?” her voice was warm, and not unkind. He looked at his forepaws, avoiding eye contact with the potential new master. That was what he ought to do, so as not to find himself deserving of her ire. "Better than I deserve, ma'am." he rasped. Good little slaves made sure to thank their masters for allowing them to live another day. The pelt was dragged across the ground, laid out beside him. The vague shape of limbs, and a partially intact tail. A coyote, probably. He did not move from where he lay, assuming it was meant for the larger female. She didn't want to sully herself upon the dirt. It smelled lovely, a faintly herbal aroma. He rather liked it. “I brought some Boneset for the cramps.” she added, and a small bird dropped a bundle of small white buds at the master's feet. "Thank you, ma'am." his throat was beginning to ache from talking, though his voice could not yet rise above a strained whisper. "You are too kind to me." he added, acidic gaze flicking from his dark paws to the pale flowers. It was for him, and he would be rude if he were to reject her kindness. Slender neck extended so he could grab the bundle gently between his teeth. Grinding it between his teeth, he gradually turned it to a paste on his tongue before swallowing it down. It didn't taste too wonderful, but he wouldn't dare to comment on it. "What would you have me do?" he questioned. Obviously she was here to put him to work, now that he had been given some time to recover. It was more than many of his masters had given him in the past, and he would not fight for more if it was not given. Already he braced himself to lift his front half from the earth. His muscles protested, but he was more than used to it. Epitaph panted once, twice, and then silenced it as his ribs began to throb dully. Sitting mostly upright, he looked to his newest master. "speech"

She could see the startle she had given him, in his eyes, the quickness of his movement as he whipped his head towards her. It reminded her of her hatred for the slavers, the slow burning emotion in her gut. He avoided eye contact with her, and his response was hardly what she had hoped for. She hid her sigh, knowing it would do him no good. She sat beside him, and beside the coat she had brought towards him, trying to make her large frame look a little smaller. “No.” she whispered, her voice very soft. Soft enough, hopefully, to hide the pain she was feeling. “I have no yet been kind enough. Not until I have removed the threat to your life, given you the time and resources to return to health and confidence. Then, maybe then, will my kindness be almost enough.” because even then, it did not erase the past. She paused, and blushed at her passionate speech. That wasn’t what she came here to say. “Th-this is for you.” she switched gears and nudged the coyote coat with her nose. “It’ll get chilly otherwise, and you haven’t picked out a den yet-” shoot. It occurred to her, right at that very moment, that he likely just stayed where he was put and assumed he was allowed no where else. There was something hurting in her chest, and she paused a moment to keep her breathing calm and soft. Epith had said she had done better than he deserved. He was wrong, so very wrong. She was already letting him down. It was seeing him, seeing the master-slave attitude he bore here and now, that she understood how he didn’t realise he had been saved. “Your here to rest and recover, not to be put to work.” how to go about this. Even Spider and Tana realised this was a home, not a prison camp. She wanted to kill those slavers right at that moment more than she ever had before, she wanted to turn her heartbreak into rage. Instead, she sighed softly. “You are no longer a slave, Epith. Your free. ""

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME The larger female settled herself on the other side of the pelt, though he wasn't sure why. What was the point of it, if not her comfort? For a moment, he considered himself and the skin equals. They both existed for the benefit of stronger, superior creatures. Verdant gaze locked upon the tattered edges of the hide, existentialism drawn to the forefront of his mind. Would his ancestors, whomever they might be, find themselves pleased that he was no more than a tool to be used by others? “No.” She said with a breathy sigh. It took a moment for that familiar fear to settle itself around his heart, stealing the space in his lungs and gripping his ventricles in an icy claw. Oh no, he'd said something wrong again. He always did this. Grim always said how he said everything that shouldn't be brought up, and Hemlock had always snapped at him for mentioning things. He hadn't learned that part from Widow, even when she'd tried to beat the sense into him. “I have no yet been kind enough. Not until I have removed the threat to your life, given you the time and resources to return to health and confidence. Then, maybe then, will my kindness be almost enough.” This was unfamiliar to him, and he struggled to school his features into neutrality. Revealing his confusion might upset her. There was always a threat to his life- he'd done his best to ignore it, never to let it bother him too much. No point in losing sleep over the cards the universe had dealt to you. He did, however, allow his gaze to drift from the hide and to her paws. Specs of dirt clung to the fine hairs of her toes, and her claws were worn down from activity. She was a busy woman, a strong woman. A fine master, she would make. A kind one, who would only kick or bite when he truly deserved it. He hoped she would claim him, before a crueler wolf did. “Th-this is for you.” she said suddenly, voice just a touch louder than before. He didn't notice the shift in volume, being wrapped up as he was in the presentation of his gift. He'd never been given one before, save for his name. What would he do with it? Was he supposed to wear it? It looked like it would be perfect as a shawl, since his coat was scraggly at best and patchy at worst. “It’ll get chilly otherwise, and you haven’t picked out a den yet-” The world seemed to slide sideways, wide eyes flicking upwards to finally fix upon the large female's features. It was a long way up, and he had to crane his head to make it work. Pick.. a den? He'd always been assigned somewhere to sleep, since he was weaned. Would he be sharing a den with his new master? Was she his new master, and she was giving him a separate den to sleep in? Either way, this was better treatment than he had ever received elsewhere. “Your here to rest and recover, not to be put to work.” she insisted, and he looked away again. Dropped his gaze to her paws. He had said the wrong thing. He should not have questioned her presence here. He nodded mutely, auds tipping back shamefully. Stupid boy, this is why you do not speak. It was Widow's voice shouting in his mind, not his own. His shame burned in his chest, remembering his lessons as a child. “You are no longer a slave, Epith. Your free." she said emphatically, though her voice was no louder than his own had been. Hm. Well, that didn't sound right. Brows furrowed together, trying to repeat the words in his mind, and turn them over a few times. A few furtive glances upward reached no further than the fur of Shaye's chest, seeking to glimpse her features for cruelty or derisiveness. Perhaps this was a joke? The more he fought the urge to look her in the eye, the stronger it fought back. Eventually, he met her gaze. He still frowned as he stared blankly at her, unable to school his expression as his brain worked the problem over. "What.." he hesitated, voice catching in his throat as the dry walls of his esophagus rubbed together unpleasantly. He swallowed roughly. "should I do?" What is the nature of a slave, if not to demand orders from a higher power? "speech"

His gaze seemed to struggle to stay still. Flicking up towards her for a moment, confusion, surprise, unrest, in his gaze. He didn’t seem to be responding to what she said with anything other than confusion. Then his eyes flicked down once more, settling on her paws. She couldn’t blame him for his behaviour, likely this had been beaten into him, and it would take a lot of gentle coaxing before he would understand that he did not have to give this diffidence to everyone. Or anyone. His eyes climbed back to hers, after much hesitation, and she could see the confusion in them as clear as day. When he spoke, she knew with certainty that nothing she had just said had gotten through. Her features went blank. It was that, or fill them with rage, and she knew that would do nothing but ruin this beginning she was trying to build with the man. Breath, that was the key. Breath it out, slow and gentle, let the rage escape her like a sigh. How to go about this? Obviously being frank with him was doing him no good. Perhaps… perhaps she had to treat him like a child. He didn’t seem to do anything on his own, unless ordered to. He simply lay where he had been left, eat what he was told to. If she let him come out of shell on his own, he would sit here in the sun and rain and waste away. “I think.. It would be best if you came with me.” she paused, hiding a grimace. Walking was clearly a pain to him. “Lie on the Coyote coat.” she said, trying to make it sound like a suggestion, not an order. Of course, she knew he would take everything she said as an absolute. She would have to be very, very careful with her words. She waited for him to comply, at least it wasn’t far for him to go, she had placed it down close to him. She still grimaced as he moved his battered body. But, this was the best she could think of. She couldn’t simply leave him here in the open. “Lie flat, ground your weight.” she would add next, then she would grip the coat tightly in her teeth, and begin the process of hauling his feather-light weight and coat, moving them across the planes and towards her den. It was slow going, but she kept at it with a dogged determination. She was panting a little by the time they arrived, and she dragged him into the den. “You can sleep here.” she told him, she would have to play around with the structure of the den, build a second tunnel in it, to give him some privacy. In the meantime, she could be near him to protect him, administer herbs, and ensure he eats, exercises and recovers his strength. This side would be easy, since he seemed happy to do anything ordered. It was the mental side, the self-assurance she wanted to build in him that was going to be a lot harder. She caught her breath, and stood a little straighter. “Make yourself at home, and i’ll grab us some breakfast from the kill pile.” ""

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME She was still displeased with him. For the umpteenth time, he had said the wrong thing, and upset his master. The ebony male watched her chest rise, fall, and rise again a few times. “I think.. It would be best if you came with me.” she finally said. His ears, previously having flicked upwards to capture the sound of her voice, tipped back again submissively. Of course, she wanted him close by. To keep an eye on him better, certainly. He nodded his head a few times, silently agreeing. Words didn't seem to be his strong suit, so he decided against making more of a fool of himself. “Lie on the Coyote coat.” she said softly, rising to her paws. He eased his aching limbs underneath himself, and rose to his paws. The very act of standing made his head spin with vertigo, but he swallowed the sensations down. He wanted to do what he was told, and make the woman happy. Seeing the tight pull of her lips, revealing just a bit of her teeth, and the way her eyes fought not to squeeze tightly shut, it was distressing. She shouldn't feel such pain because of him. Stupid boy, you're all wrong. Widow's voice returned again, admonishing his poor behaviour. “Lie flat, ground your weight.” she added, standing before him. The dark male felt awestruck, staring at her. She was a glorious sight, in the late autumn sun. Full of willpower and unwavering determination. He settled a little too heavily on the pelt, body all but collapsing upon itself at the meagre task. He arranged his limbs so they all fit onto the small surface area of the pelt, making sure he was well balanced. Epitaph didn't want to impede the plots by falling over or tipping too much to one side or another. Just like that, she took the edge of the pelt in her teeth and began to drag him across the ground. Hot shame tripped down his spine, knowing full well that he was too weak to walk this far on his own, but nagged by that same notion. He would never be good enough to be anything but a simple slave, in a world where he didn't belong. Between the soft breaths of his master-but-not-really and the subtle shifts in the landscape, the time passed quickly. Before Epitaph knew it, they were slowing. Was she getting tired? He should volunteer to walk. Ebon lips parted to offer just that, when they began to slip down a light incline into the ground. "Oh!" the sound was punched out of him, entirely beyond his control. Just like that, he was safely enveloped in the warmth of the earth. When he ceased to move any further, he was settled in the middle of a large burrow. It smelled strongly of feminine musk, familiar by now. “You can sleep here.” his new not-master announced, standing up straight. It was a truly massive den, if she had such room to move about comfortably. The wisp couldn't help but glance around curiously. The soft huff of ragged breathing was all that punctuated the silence, as Epitaph drank it all in. “Make yourself at home, and i’ll grab us some breakfast from the kill pile.” she said warmly. Finally, the male's attention was dragged back to her. He sought to rise on shaky legs, but ultimately failed. He was all tangled up in his own limbs. Instead, he tried to smile at her. He was out of practice, if he'd ever had any to begin with. "Thank you, ma'am." he whispered. "speech"

She looked about the den, a small space - to her - but easily roomy for the smaller wolf. She had small shelves carved out of the earth, with dried herbs, a few interesting oddities she had collected over the years, and a small jar with softly buzzing light. She had made herself a ‘lantern’ of fireflies after giving one to the Risen Empire. Feeding them had been a challenge until she had figured out how to place a small hole through the cork, which she could drip water and nectar through, and cover easily. beside it was a small bundle of carefully cared for and well loves feathers, of different colors and sizes. some looked quite new, and others very old. The 'lantern' stood in a corner, with a small coat draped partly over it, so she could douse the light any time she wished. The scent of herbs was prominent, she might not specialise as a healer now, but old habits die hard. A few essentials could be found among them, as well as the more recently harvest lavender, what remained after she had rubbed them onto the pelt. The den was dug far enough back, that the light was dim, with the soft orange glow from jar becoming the main source. There was another coat placed in a large indent dug out beneath the shelves. She grabbed that coat in her teeth and pulled it from her sleeping area. She placed this sleeping mat near the entrance, where she could sleep between Epitaph and danger, and digging her teeth into his coyote one once more, she pulled it onto the dugout sleeping area, with the wolf still upon it. “This can be your spot for now, i’ll enlarge the den at a later date.” she explained. She then ducked out of the den, heading towards the kill pile as she had explained to the wolf she would. As she walked, she thought through what she was doing with a soft sigh. She wanted to give the wolf more independence than this, his own place in the pack. He had made obvious very quickly that that wouldn’t work. He required too much care, and she would have to ensure he received it. She would need advice on how to heal his mind and confidence… She grabbed a pile of dead vole’s by their tails, three dangling from her mouth with no issues, and trotted back to the den. She would place two before the newest addition to the pack, and take one for herself. "Talk" "Listen" Think

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME The den was much like the cavern in which he had stayed when Widow was his master, but there were no weapons here. No poisons either, like with Hemlock. Instead, little trinkets rested on shelves dug into the earthen walls. Feathers, a small container filled with.. fairies? He had never seen fireflies before, and thus had no idea that they could be used in such a fashion. The soft, soothing perfume of lavender filled the air. This felt like a safe place. Before long, he was being roughly dragged into a new part of the den. An indentation in the floor, where a different pelt had been laying. It smelled strongly of his new master. “This can be your spot for now, i’ll enlarge the den at a later date.” she said warmly. He bobbed his head in response, acknowledging her order. Was it an order? Then she was gone, leaving him in a new place with his thoughts. There were so many of them, after everything that had happened. He was warming up, after spending time out in the elements. His stiff knee ached again, from holding it still for so long. He untangled his legs, and slowly eased onto his feet. The whole endeavour took far too long, but it was worth it when the battered muscles of his lame leg stretched out. While there was no one else in the den, he decided to take a look around. He wanted to see the container of fairies again, up close. He limped across the room, ears pressed tight against his skull reflexively. Verdant gaze absorbed the flickering, flitting creatures in the jar. His nose was nearly pressed against the glass by the time they came into focus. They were... insects? Brows knitting together, the male watched them move about. How did they glow like that? Strange. Tail tucked loosely between his legs, the male frowned at the bugs. He wanted to know more about them, but a good slave never asked too many questions. That would be inappropriate, and Shaye might hit him. Speak of the devil and he arrives. Shaye trotted back into the den. Like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the dark wisp froze and stared at her. She dropped two voles at his feet and said nothing. He waited. She didn't look mad. He was invading her personal space, getting into her business. However, she did not hit him. A good master, just as he suspected. He plopped himself down on his haunches, and glanced between his meal and his master. "Thank you, ma'am." he murmured before tucking into the first vole. "speech"

She returned to see him with his face plastered against the jar of fireflies. They danced and flittered inside, casting a soft, orange light across his face. There was a look of wonder there, one that vanished very quickly the moment he saw her. His ears where to his skull, his tail tucked up against his legs. He froze, staring at her like he was waiting for something - and she had the distinct impression it wasn’t dinner. She backed up a comfortable distance and started in on her own vole, she didn’t need much at the moment, just a snack, and figured he might be more comfortable eating if she was digging into something too. “They are called fireflies.” she explained as she finished her vole and carefully put aside the bones and fur. “You can have them, if you like. I can show you how to care for them, too. They don’t need much.” she promised him. She moved closer to him, reaching over him to grab the jar by the ‘handle’ in her mouth and gently lowered it to the ground towards him. That done, she backed up again, giving him some space. They had been a pain to catch and cultivate, but she had figured it out, and done better at this one, which had been her second attempt. Third time's the charm, right? She would have to use another of Rhythm’s dwindling store of jars. She wondered if she could collect more, or even make them, perhaps with the help of Kesali’s crafter.. Hmm.. interesting thoughts, she tucked them away to consider later, the implication of an endless supply of jars was already exciting her, but she could dwell on it later. “Did you need anything else?” she wanted to know, trying to think through the needs of a wolf, she could show him how to administer joint-aching herbs on a daily basis, add to her supply of Alfalfa well she put some more weight on him. But those were just… the tip of the iceberg. What did he need? "Talk" "Listen" Think