The man had just checked up on his sister, his mind whirling with options. The poor woman was scarred and he wasn't sure what he could really do. There was pain management, there were sleep aids. Surely that would help her body in healing post the terrifying ordeal but he wasn't sure what he could really do to heal her damaged mind. Lavender maybe? It was known to calm nerves but she'd need long therapy to help her change the way her thoughts spiraled. And hardly anything growing in the wake of the explosion so he wasn't even sure he could start with what he did actually know. Octave wandered towards the plains, Noko tucked against his shoulders in her usual spot, her tiny odd paws placed on his head as she supported herself in a more upright position than she usually took, her own dark eyes scanning the plains.

Octave sighed, as he moved slowly, what little new growth they had wasn't particularly helpful yet. He didn't want to risk damaging the slow development they had made but at the same time, he wasn't sure what else he could do. More than anything he needed at least one more mind, someone else who could give him a view outside his own understanding. He was certain he also wasn't the only one who needed to try and figure out what they could do short of ranging far from home in search of herbs. Something he was still inclined to suggest, but not without talking to Theory about it first of course and he'd likely need help. He had too many ideas in his head for his little resources available, some way to carry resources would be a must soon.

But for now he needed to focus on the problem at hand.

WC:301


Octave & Noko

The plains were choked out from the ashes that had rained from the sky for two entire seasons. Everywhere she went, she tracked pawprints through the silt. Was this really the home they had longed for? She hoped wherever Shaye was that her mentor was at least happy with her decision. How could the pack hope to thrive when everything around them was dead or dying? It wasn't so long ago that they has rebuilt the thicket after it had been razed to the ground, although it seemed like a lifetime away. A familiar scent caught her attention and she pushed her worries aside. The imitable mask of "alpha" slid over her features with some effort before she padded after Octave's trail. "Octave," she greeted, dipping her head towards the healer as she approached. Her short tail was flicked upwards but her general demeanor was easygoing and genial. It was good to know that they had healers back in their ranks and willing to work; they needed them now more than ever, that was for sure. "Are you searching for some life underneath these ashes?" Theo asked, unable to keep a hint of bitterness out of her joke. So many of their members were tormented by the mental scars left behind by the eruption and the recent losses they'd endured. They may have been lucky in the physical wounds department, but Theory was deeply concerned about Rhyme's current mental state, as well as Vail's suffering litter. To lose their parents so young was horribly unfair. Octave's sister had been scarce as well - ever since she'd been burned in the fire, Novel had remained out of the way. Was she doing alright? There was so much to keep of, so many lives intricately intertwined. "I actually wanted to pick your brain about some of our pack members. Everyone is hurting, some more than others. Their pain is difficult to understand. I tried to speaking with Rhyme, but..." Theory rolled her shoulders and looked away. She didn't want anyone to think their beta wasn't in top form, but it was just so painfully obvious that Rhyme was suffering. It would be foolish not to acknowledge it. He had been so close with Shaye, it was no wonder that her death had rocked him to his core. "Speech" wc: 384 twc: 685/1500

Dirty paws carried the dirty boy across the dirty landscape. Beat was covered in so much soot, dirt and burs that he wasn't even white anymore. He was a miasma of brown and grey with muddy bits clinging to the longer fur of his stomach, tail and elbows. There was no reason to take care of his appearance. He wanted people to stay away from him. It was for their own good. If they came close... they would die like all the rest.

As the youngling walked along, head lowered in a constant state of defeat, he couldn't shake the overactive, undulating mind of his. Like a mantra throbbing to the beat of his heart, he was never free from his inner monologue taunting him. 'Your fault. Cursed. Dead. Dead. Dead. All your fault.' He couldn't even sleep, despite being in a constant state of exhaustion. The ghosts of his family hovered over him. They didn't speak, they simply watched. Any time he shut his eyes, they were there. When he began to doze off, they infiltrated his dreams. A constant reminder that he had killed them. And so he didn't sleep.

On top of not sleeping, the child had neglected to eat. He was skin and bones. A strong wind could blow him over. Hip bones and elbows jutted out like spires. His face was sunken. He looked more like an old man than a young pup. Twig left food for him outside the den often, she claimed, but he was rarely home and couldn't be bothered to hunt. His stomach gave up growling long ago.

With no particular heading in mind, Beat walked, paws dragging over the ground with each monotonous step. He didn't even realize that he was coming upon the pair of wolves until he was close enough for them to see him. The boy stopped in his tracks, head lowering more. Ears tucked back against his skull and his tail drew up against his skinny belly. Beat froze. This was the alpha. He didn't know what to do. Teal and purple eyes went wide and he simply stood, staring.

WC-355
TWC-1040