**THIS THREAD IS RATED MATURE FOR A REASON. CONTINUE READING AT YOUR OWN RISK.
TRIGGER WARNINGS INCLUDE: FOUL LANGUAGE, GORE, EMONTIAL TRAUMA, THOUGHTS OF SELF HARM, AND VIVID DESCRIPTIONS OF DISMEMBERMENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**



Fern had felt a growing sense of unease as the days passed. The sun never seemed to rise above the horizon causing an almost constant twilight to paint the sky and darken the world. It left the gray one unsettled and her nervous tendencies had grown more pronounced with each passing day. She had decided to lock herself away in her room guest room at the Hallows since every time she had ventured outside the room, she was met by staring eyes and mummering voices. Fern had known they all hated her and the drain she put on the pack’s resources but she tries to stay around for Rudy. Not wanting to disappoint the first wolf that has been kind to her in a long time, the gray girl opted to lock herself away from the judging gazes and sneering words.

However, the door did not stop them. She could still see those accusing eyes behind her own closed eyelids and hear the booming laughter of those mocking her through the solid wood of the door. When a thick, unnatural fog rolled in to cover the castle and all its lands in a shroud of dense gray, Fern decides it is time for her to leave the Hallows. For good. She packs no food and takes nothing of the Hallows with her as her gray form slips out into the twilight bathed world. There was no plan and she had no idea where she was but the overwhelming urge to get as far away from the Hallows as possible drives her onward.

Glowing eyes peer through the fog at her as she runs and twisted, gaping mouths cackle their delight at her as she passes. Adrenaline courses through her veins, causing her thoughts to become more unpredictable with each passing moment. When her paws finally stop their hectic stride, Fern casts her eyes about trying to make sense of where she is. The grass under her paws feels brittle and snaps when she walks across it. Looking down in confusion, the gray one notices that each green stalk has been caked with dried blood and gore. Letting out a surprised yelp, Fern tries to retreat but only ends up slamming her butt into a stone pillar.

Snapping around hastily to see what she has hit, Fern feels her stomach roll at the sight of the dried blood and intestines that coat the stone’s face. Smeared bloody paw prints mar the normally gray stone standing out in vivid detail as the intestines sway lightly in the breeze. Someone had carefully hung the loops of bowel along the top ridges of the stone, allowing the loose ends to swing freely with gust of wind. Eyes trail down the macabre decorations to find at the base of the stone pillar the body of what once was a wolf. Lifeless stare accusingly at her, as the dead wolf’s body rests with its back against the pillar, open chest cavity gleaming at her.

It has been dissected by a long, jagged cut that splits it open from the underside of its neck to the underside of the base of its tail. The muscles and ribs have been carefully back to allow the insides to spill out onto the once green grass. Fern can’t stop her eyes from inspecting every inch and detail of the body. The throat is exposed, showing each ligament and tendon in the once strong neck. Each calculated swipe severing arteries and tearing away muscle. Further down, she see the tips of white ribs glistening in what light there is. From underneath the ribs, Fern can see the once pink tissues of the lungs poking out but death has caused the healthy tissues to decay and turn gray. Its stomach lays on the ground near the open wound but the bowels are absent and Fern knows that they hang above her.

The scene has a strange familiarity about it that tugs at her mind as Fern lurches to the side to get away from the body. Eyes slam shut as her stomach spasms causing her to lose what little food she had. Frame shakes as she continues to heave, feeling heavy, thick tears start to leak down her face. Blinking open her eyes, Fern stares down at the slick of vomit and is caught of guard by the bright glowing fluid that is puddled there. The feeling of viscous fluid running from her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth startles the already terrified wolf. Shaky paw reaches toward her face only to pull away covered with sticky, bright ooze. What the fuck is going on?

Thoughts become even more muddled when she looks back at the stone pillar to find no trace of the dead wolf. Instead, the stone is clean with no gore hanging from it. No blood paints it face or the ground around it. The dead body has disappeared and with it, any trace of the horrible mutilation she had seen moments ago. Body quakes from fear as her jaw can’t seem to close and the horrible fluid continues to flow from her. Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, Fern hears a voice calling to her. Head turns to see the incorporeal form of her dead mother staring at her.

Nothing makes sense anymore. One moment Meadow was picking herbs for her stash and the next was filled with intense pain. She had not seen or smelled the tiger that was waiting for some easy prey to walk by. Unknowingly Meadow had been that prey. When the beast slammed into her side, knocking her off her paws while sinking its teeth deep into her shoulder, Meadow was too stunned to yell for help. The next moments are been a blur as she tries to fight off the gigantic creature and fails. Pain is the only thing she is really aware of. Like the way it feels when the creature’s claws cleave through her already wounded shoulder, separating the torn muscles further and his mouth pulls her leg off of her body. Writhing in pain, she screams in terror as the tiger’s hot breath rustles the fur on her neck when it turns to spit out the appendage before resuming its attack. It toys with Meadow, enjoying her pain and misery as it carefully hurts her, knowing that there is no reason to hurry. Hope fades as Meadow realizes no one else is going to come save her. The beast’s teeth sink into the soft skin around her belly, yanking hard to rip out pieces of her stomach and bowels. The pain is too much for her brain to register individually anymore and a blanket of agony settles over her. Blood sprays from her mouth as the tiger rips deep bloody furrows into her sides, puncturing lungs and breaking ribs. Bloody gurgles fills the air as the tiger grows tired of playing with Meadow. It sinks it’s claws into the open wound of her stomach. The pain that follows, was unlike any she had experienced before as it grips onto her bowels with its sharp claws and yanks them out of her body. Her dying body quivers as mouth moves, trying to drag breathes into her clasping lungs. She feels the life leaving her body as she watches the tiger eating her intestines above her. Head rolls to the side to avoid the gruesome sight and she catches sight of two watery aqua eyes peering at her from inside a bush. Panic and sorrow fill Meadow’s chest as her daughter watches the life finally leave her mother’s body. With that the pain had faded and stopped completely. When Meadow awoke next, she is in a green field full of flowers and birds. She is whole and unharmed. There is no regret or sadness anymore, only a calm understanding of everything. She stays hidden in the blissful afterlife, watching over Fern as her daughter travels, never able to talk or be seen but she is still there. Meadow has seen it all and, for a moment, she thought Fern heard her when she tries to direct the girl to Rudy. The pain and anger her daughter carries within her causing the girl to lash out at Meadow’s voice. Meadow had retreated to the field for a time, watching from a distance but not leaving her daughter entirely. With Fern’s increasingly erratic behavior and the strange things happening around Auster, Meadow feels worry start to pick at her. This is an extremely strange feeling since, when she died, she had left all the emotions behind with her body. Then everything went black and Meadow awoke on a patch of grass. Casting her eyes around, Meadow sees fog and a hunched form in the distance. Making her way toward it, the small woman quickly recognizes her daughter’s back. Voice calls out, “Fern? Fern is that you?” She is unprepared for the moment her daughter snaps around to face her. Fear stabbing her as she sees a bright blue fluid oozing thickly from Fern’s ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Fern’s jaw seems unhinged and hangs open allowing the ooze to escape freely. A deep rumble is heard escaping from her daughter’s throat and it takes a moment to realize that the girl is laughing. Once aqua eyes are now a deep blue as the fluid seems to coat them and run freely down her cheeks. The disturbing laugh continues until Meadow snaps, “Fern! What the hell is the matter with you?” The sound stops and an eerie silence falls around them. Meadow stares fretfully at the form of her daughter for a long time. No one moves and no sound breaks the silence until Meadow asks, “Fern? Are you alright?” She tries to make her tone sound peaceful and caring but fear colors each word. A few more minutes pass before the sounds of a strangled sob break through the night and Fern’s frame starts to shake. "Speech"

Eyes find Meadow’s ethereal form moving toward her and Fern sees horror written in the ghostly lines of her mother’s face. The dead woman stops a short distance from her and the gray girl feels the apparition’s eyes roam over her face. Everything feels so strange and incorrect. Meadow had come looking for her? The thought causes a rumble of laughter to originate from deep within Fern’s throat. The sound is bizarre as it pushes past the ooze and bounces around her. Her mother cannot be here, the small woman had died months ago. Whatever is happening in this place has caused Fern to go crazy. As the rumbling laugh continues, Fern ponders if thinking you are insane actually makes you sane.

Meadow snaps at her, tone biting and harsh as she asks what is wrong with Fern. With the sound abruptly gone, the world in plunged into a tense silence as Fern ponders where to start. Memories explode to life, playing out in vivid detail as Fern is forced to watch. Tears mingle with the ooze that escapes from Fern’s eyes as Meadow’s voice filters through the fog that has settled over Fern’s brain. Blood splatters against her pelt as Fern watches her mother die over and over again. She knows she has to be quiet. If she makes any sound the tiger will turn on her next. Fern tries desperately to stifle the sob that builds in her throat but it breaks loose.

The sound shatters the silence and spell that Fern appears to have been under. Blinking confusedly, Fern’s eyes land on the phantom that is her mother. Anger floods Fern, choking out any rational thoughts that might have remained. Lips pull back to show her teeth as the fluid starts to leak from her gums as well. The bright blue ooze pools in mouth before spilling down her chin and onto the grass below. Nothing makes sense anymore and Fern voices her anger at Meadow for dying, “You bitch.”

The words sound wrong coming from her mouth. Sure, she had thought them a million times over the past seven months while she was alone but she had never voiced them before. Fleetingly, Fern feels the last wisps of her self-control slip away down some dark tunnel. The anger completely takes over. Words burdened with all her ugliest thoughts and pure malice are spit towards the dead woman, “You left me alone. Did you know that? After your death, which I had to watch, everyone left.”

Legs pull the girl’s body forward but the movements are wrong. Jerky and uncoordinated as if someone else is piloting Fern’s body. Moving closer to Meadow, dripping thick globs of the ooze with each breath, Fern laughs again. Just like her body movements, the laugh is wrong. A guttural sound that scrapes raw any ears that might be listening. When her voice starts talking again, there seems to be a deep echo that surrounds each word, “I couldn’t move from my hiding spot. I had almost bitten clean through my paw by the time I finally emerged, four days later. At some point during the attack I had stuffed it in my mouth to stop my screams.”

Everything is off about Fern as she feels herself revealing every deep, dark secret she had locked away. Meadow doesn’t move as the girl circles her, spitting venom in the shape of words, “By the time I got back to camp, everyone had packed up and left. Guess they smelled the tiger better than you did.” Face tries to sneer at the dead woman but the ooze obscures it. Fern pauses a moment to cough deeply as a wade of the thick ooze sticks in her throat. The cough wracks her frame as works it into her mouth spits it to the side with contempt. She doesn’t notice that the blue ooze is coated with a thin layer of blood.

The tirade of words once again resumes, “I have been alone since then. Never bothered to find the group again. A part of me always knew I was expendable to them. Just some trash picked up on the side of trail.” A vicious laugh follows the last sentence before her voice quickly strikes out again, “After that I tried to kill myself but not even death wanted me! Everything abandoned me! There was no point, no reason for me to be here! Yet I was not allowed to rest. So, I went looking for Resin.”

A humorless laugh falls out of her mouth as Fern explains, “But even that was fucked up! Did you know your sister is dead? She died protecting her family. But not you. No, you just picked herbs in the wrong place! What a fucking idiot.” The last word is growled as she moves to stand in front of the ghost. Fern’s breathing wheezes out through her mouth as the ooze starts to obstruct her airways. Fluid still steadily leaks out of her face and the gray fur is no longer visible under it. Sucking in a deep breath, Fern bellows, “I wish you had never given birth to me!”

Her deepest regret voiced, Fern falls silent as her harsh breathing becomes the only sound left around them.

Meadow did not know what to expect. With strange things happening in the world and her daughter being to see her, Meadow feels a flash hope at the thought of being able to finally say goodbye to Fern. Those hopes are quickly dashed as Fern’s eyes seem to clear of the ooze only to become tinted with anger. The ooze that flows down her daughter’s face makes the gray girl appear gruesome and haunted. When Fern’s lips pull away to reveal her gums and teeth, it also reveals bright blue ooze. However, it is not Fern’s appearance that has Meadow shrinking away from her daughter but the hate filled words. They are sharpened with disgust and flung at the dead woman’s heart. They strike true, freezing Meadow in place as she listens to her daughter’s rant. Words try to escape and counter the harsh ones but nothing leaves her mouth. Watching the jerky movements that Fern makes as she stalks closer to her, Meadow feels a swell of fear for her daughter’s wellbeing. The movements appear forced, as if Fern doesn’t want to move but some strange, unseen force is compelling her body to obey. The laugh that follows has Meadow wincing, the sound grating against whatever nerves Meadow has. The words that follow have a strange slightly deeper echo that accompanies them, making Meadow think of someone talking over her daughter’s voice. Meadow watches Fern circle her, absorbing each word and letting her own failings wash over her. Is something forcing Fern to say these cruel and horrible things? Surely this cannot be the daughter she raised. Fern had been a small and happy pup, always eager to play and find new things. Joyful memories wash over Meadow as she watches this hallow projection of her daughter spit hate filled words at her. The woman watches every irregular step that her daughter makes, trying to overlap her memories with this wolf before her. The ooze seems to be thickening as Fern talks, at one point causing her to stop and hack out a large glob of it. Meadow glances at the discarded ooze and notes with alarm that there is a thin layer of blood on it. Worry fills Meadow’s eyes as she continues to half-listen to Fern while checking her daughter for any signs of injury. Beside the unnatural ooze, Fern seems unharmed. With one final outburst, Fern declares her wish to have never been born before stopping to wheezily catch her breath. Meadow wants to run to her daughter, wrap her paws around the girl and pull her into a deep embrace. She wants to erase all the hurt and anger she has caused to Fern. Every fiber of her soul wants to take away all the bad things that have happened to Fern but Meadow knows she can’t. Yet another thing she has failed to do. Sorrow filled emerald eyes meet anger filled aqua ones and Meadow feels her heart break. Softly, Meadow tries to right some of the wrongs in Fern’s life, “Oh my beautiful daughter. I never meant to leave you. That day I was looking for a special herb to heal your brother. He had fallen and hurt his leg and that herb was to help him recover.” A gentle smile appears on incorporeal lips as she continues, “I never meant to get attacked or to leave you alone in this world and I will take all the blame you have to give me.” There is nothing she can do to change the past but if Fern has someone to lay her all hardships on, maybe her daughter can start to move on with her life. She watches as the anger starts to melt out of Fern’s eyes and she says, “I am glad I had you Fern. Even if I was only with for a short time, I want you to know that they were the best months of my life.” If she could cry, Meadow would be. Fern’s head dips as her wheezing increases and Meadow moves to her side, trying to give comfort without the ability to touch her daughter. Her soft voice mummers, “Easy Fern, take long, slow, deep breathes. Just like I taught you.” Meadow coaches her daughter through the breathing techniques that Fern had learned to help quell panic attacks. Fern tries to gulp for air and Meadow keeps murmuring sweet nothings to her daughter, allowing the gray girl to latch onto her voice and guide her back to reality. Watching as tense starts to bleed out of her daughter’s frame, Meadow offers a soft smile and the words, “Fern? You back with me? "Speech"

The sound of Fern’s labored wheezing fills the silence that falls after her cruel words. Eyes burn with hate as she looks at the opaque figure of her mother. Meadow’s sad eyes capture her gaze and Fern tries to hold onto the animosity that burns through her body. It is the only thing that she has left. The only thing that Meadow gave her. As Fern stokes the raging fire inside her, Meadow’s voice breaks through the heat and anger like a cool breeze on a hot day. Where Fern had expected disgust and fury, she finds, instead, acceptance and understanding. The ooze that leaks out of her face disguises the tears that mingle with the goo as they fall down her cheeks.

Fern wants to rage at her mother, to tell the woman to stop being so kind, to tell her she wasn’t going to allow Meadow to take the blame that Fern has already laid on her. Nothing makes sense anymore to the oozing wolf as she listens to Meadow’s gentle tones try to soothe the deep ache inside Fern’s soul. The hate that had burned so bright only moments ago, dwindles as Fern blinks her cloudily eyes. More of the thick goo escapes down her cheeks as Meadow lets her know that she was glad to have Fern. With those words, the blaze dies completely, leaving Fern feeling hollow and spent.

Head lowers as Fern’s already ragged breathes start to come in faster sequences. The ooze coats the back of her throat and it takes effort to get air past it. Vaguely, Fern is aware that she is having another panic attack as the breaths come in shallow, uneven, fast succession. The world dissolves to a pinpoint of light as panic takes over her brain. She feels the ghost’s presence draw closer and Fern hears her mother’s familiar words cooing to her through the building fear. Anxiety grips her tight and tries to drag Fern under as she begins the all too familiar battle once more. Meadow’s peaceful voice breaks through the fog, offering a life ring to the drowning wolf.

Grabbing onto the sounds and calm voice, Fern follows it, regulating her breathing the way Meadow coaches her to do. The world snaps back into focus around Fern and she is able to, once more, focus herself in the moment. Tension slowly leaves her muscles, leaving Fern feeling weak and drained. Meadow calls to her and Fern lifts her heavy head to look at the apparition. Blinking her eyes furiously to clear the ooze that coats them, Fern’s voice questions, “Mo- mom? Wha- what… what is happening to me?” Her stuttered words are tinged with fear as haunted eyes try to search the incorporeal form’s face.

However, Fern doesn’t hear her mother’s answer as aqua eyes catch movement behind the ghost. Body tenses as more specters appear through the fog. Their glowing eyes and wide, unhinged smiles seem to project their evil intentions as they near. Horror once more seizes her heart as these new forms start to chitter and cackle as they move. It sounds alarm her as their off-pitch, high, sounds of delight stab at her ears. Wincing, Fern drops back toward the stone pillar that had started this all. The chattering ghosts encircle her, pinning Fern with her back against the rock. They stop a few feet from her, their heads seeming to have no neck as they spin freely and tilt at impossible angles.

The cackles finally die away as they stand there watching Fern, judging her silently as fear surges through the gray girl. Where is Meadow? Why isn’t Meadow helping her? Everything is wrong as one of the wolves steps toward her. Its bottom jaw falls open, almost hitting the ground, as it emits a high, piercing scream. Fern thinks her ears are going to start bleeding as the sound stabs into her brain and seems to continue on forever.


"Speech"

Fern’s panic attack slows as her daughter fights to regain control. Meadow does not stop the stream of sweet sounds and words until she sees cloudily aqua start to blink. With a soft smile on her ghostly lips, Meadow asks if her daughter is back with her. Frightened aqua eyes look at her and Fern’s stuttered question leaves the spirit momentarily speechless. With a gentle voice, Meadow assures her daughter, “I am not sure Fern. But we will figure this out, together.” Offering a warm smile with the words. However, her words appear to fall on deaf ears as Fern’s face becomes a mask of absolute terror. Confused, Meadow follows her daughter’s gaze to the ghosts that appear through the fog. The unnatural sounds they make unnerve her daughter even more as Fern backs away from them. Meadow follows her daughter, trying to capture Fern’s attention but failing. Fern’s retreat is cut off by a stone pillar and Meadow watches as her daughter tries to make herself appear small against the stone. The wolves stop a few feet from Fern, glowing eyes piercing through the darkness. Meadow moves to stand next to her daughter, trying to offer support and strength. When the wolf steps forward and dislocates it jaw to scream at Fern, Meadow steps in. The shrill scream is cut short as the incorporeal Meadow steps in toward the terrifying ghosts and shouts, “ENOUGH!” Its jaw snaps shut and jerky heads all turn to focus on her. Meadow casts a look back to the cowering Fern and sees her shaking form and distant eyes. Meadow isn’t sure if Fern is even aware of what is going on. Turning her head back the jittery phantoms, anger rising, Meadow demands, “What the hell do you think you are doing? You cannot go around scaring everyone you meet! Have you no manners?” Heads continue to jerk as mouths open and random clicking noises are heard. Something shifts in the air and the wolf that had screamed approaches Meadow. Mouth opens as and a raspy voice punctures the air, “We need to eat.” The words are drawn out, breathy, and sharp all at the same time. Meadow stares daggers at the ghost, unafraid of it as she states, “You are a ghost. You do not need to eat. There is no food in the world that could satisfy your hunger.” It laughs at her for a long time before the raspy voice says, “Fool! We do not eat food. We eat anger… and fear. And that one has much to give.” Its jittery head bobs toward Fern and Meadow looks back toward her daughter. Fern has curled herself into a tight ball, mummering senseless words and rocking herself. Aqua eyes are glazed and detached as she stares at nothing. Anger pulses through Meadow as turns back to ghost and snaps, “You leave her alone! All of you! Leave her alone!” The small spirit paces in front of her daughter’s prone figure as the cruel wolf laughs and demands, “And what will you give us in return?” Glowing eyes watch Meadow as she tries to think of something they would want. "Speech"

Firefly Shoppe- Fern

The sickness deepens... You feel short of breath, but every breath you manage glows with glowing mist.

Your attention blurs and refocuses. It feels as if you are in a dream as you find yourself alone in the mist. Fireflies gather and light the way to a table with a figure waiting behind it. On the table lay three items, with their prices beside them. "Choose w̶̢̧͉̥̻̟͈͙̽̉̆̿̈͒͋̓̇̍͌̇̎͠͝ì̵̢̝̄͐́͆̓̚ṣ̶̛͙̟͎̤̞̤͎̹̙̭̪͔̓̐̾̂͆̄͆͌̈̈́̏̚͜͝͠ȩ̴͔̱̗̜̾̉̀̓̀͆͛̊̂̍̕̚̚̚ͅl̵̢̦̲̼̠̖̜̺̮̜̺͋̈́y̴̧̨̧̪̗̥̘͇̾͑͗͜͠, and only choose o̷͕̭̊̃̌̊̏̀ņ̸̼͚͉͔̒͐̊e̵̮̯͛̔̀̑͜," the figure says, looming over the table as his eyes seem to peer into your soul. Are they... moving? "If you can afford it, that is. Beware, however, for there are many d̷̡̯͉̎̊̈́͐͠á̴̬̪̣̝̞̅̀̈́̄ṉ̸̢̠̤̹̥̙̜͋͆̚g̷̛͍̹̣̬̙͖̝̘̃̈e̷͓͕̖͓̝̤̿͐͐͜͠ŗ̵̤͚͔̟̹̳̽̒͝ş̸̛͓͔̩̥̦͛̊̈̾̐̒̓ ̴̺͔̃̇̆ahead." He does not seem like he's in the negotiating mood...


I̵̜̖͎͓͒̑̕n̸͓̗̘̫͉̗̻͐̔̿̊͆̋͝v̵̦̹̠͉̖̼̮̎̌͆ȩ̸͕̦͔̳̩̈́͜n̶͍̝̙̯̣̹̫̩͋t̶̟͈̟̲̜̙̣̋̿̓̆̅͊͝͝ŏ̶̼͊r̶̖͎̙͔̥͎͙͈̊̍͝͠y̴̧͔̭͒͆̉̕͝:

• Mushroom Based Acid- 2 /
  A small vial with a convenient handle that almost makes it seem throwable. Upon the label is a skull and crossbones symbol beside a shattered shield.
  
• Go fast juice- 1 /
  The liquid in this bottle is thick and dark, and has something that looks surprisingly like muscle.
  
• Shrink Potion- 1 /
  This bottle is shaped like a pear and within it swirls a sparkly gold liquid. The label shows a crudely drawn image of two wolves of vastly different sizes, with a green checkmark over the smallest one.
  

The cackling wolves stare through the dark fog at Fern. Their glowing eyes pierce the fog and terrified wolf alike. As Fern cowers against the stone pillar, she has the vague sense that those glowing orbs gaze into the very depths of her soul. Fear squeezes her heart, spreading its icy tendrils throughout her body and causing her muscles to seize up. She is paralyzed, only able to watch as Meadow tries to intervene on her behalf. As the ghosts talk, Fern feels the thick, tacky substance running freely down her face. Her ears are starting to feel clogged with the ooze, no longer able to hear the apparitions voices as her eyes struggle to focus.

Fern’s mouth hangs open, trying to allow the ooze in the back of throat an escape route out of her body. However, the gray girl soon feels the thick ooze start to slid backwards and down into her lungs. The sensation is strange as it coats her bronchial tubes and penetrates into the alveoli sacks in each lung. Breathing becomes a monumental task. Each inhalation causes Fern’s chest to heave as she works to force air past the ooze. When she exhales, there is an audible rattle that accompanies the breath leaving her mouth.

If her vision wasn’t so hazy, Fern would see that, as each breath passes her lips on the way out of her body, it becomes a glowing mist. It almost appears as if the temperature has dropped and each puff of forced air is expelled out into a cloud of steam. Except… it looks nothing like a normal steam cloud. There are small, bright, glowing particles that are expelled outward into a mist as she wheezes for each breath. The vapor drifts lazily up and away from the sick girl, the glowing cloud eventually flickering out of existence.

Fern cannot focus on anything except the task of trying to get oxygen into her body. Head spins as fear triggers her to try and suck in air faster and at a shallower rate. The world grays out as the girl focuses on slowing the rapid respirations and instead, deepen each breath to allow more oxygen to enter her lungs. After a few minutes, the world swims back into focus and Fern realizes she is once more alone in the fog. Head turns trying to find her mother’s form but there is only the mist and her.

As her breathing settles into a new deeper, wheezing rhythm, Fern watches hundreds of blue fireflies appear. Perhaps, in her oxygen starved mind, the gray girl does not remember the events that lead to this moment; how she had once sat on these creatures and endured the uncomfortable feeling of them under her skin. Or maybe it is the events of the night that lead the sick girl to smile at the dancing lights. In the fog of Fern’s mind, a memory flickers to life like the light of bugs around her.

Meadow had awoken her daughter one summer evening. The sleepy Fern had groggily asked what the woman wanted and her mother bid her to follow. The groggy girl had, begrudgingly, abandoned the warm furs to follow her mother. Sleepily the pup had followed her mother out into the middle of a small meadow, watching as the sun started to slip below the horizon. Taking a seat next the woman as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, Fern whined, “Mommy. What are we doing here?” Aqua gaze looked into the gentle emerald eyes of her mother.

A smile had appeared on Meadow’s face as she pulled the small pup toward her. A kiss was planted on Fern’s head as Meadow whispered, “We are about to watch a very special dance.” All Fern wanted was to go back to their den and sleep. However, the small pup did not want to disappoint her mother, so she had settled against her mother’s chest and awaited the dance. It hadn’t taken long as the sunlight started to fade, for the fireflies to come to life, each small light seemed to burst to life against the darkening sky. Wonder-filled eyes had watched as the lights appeared and floated around the sitting wolves.

It had been Fern’s first time seeing fireflies and the amazed pup had watched the magical dance for hours. Her inquisitive mind had caused Fern to ask her mother multiple questions and Meadow had smiled brightly as she answered each one. When Meadow had finally dragged the sleepy Fern back toward their den, the pup had felt a profound sadness as she watched the fireflies disappear from her view. As Meadow tucked her in, Fern asked, “Mommy, will we ever see the fireflies again?” Meadow’s gentle voice had promised her they would see them again and Fern had fallen asleep to dreams of dancing lights.

Blinking away the memory, Fern wonders if she has stepped into one of those dreams. She feels peaceful even as she struggles to breathe. As wonder filled eyes watch, the fireflies move to form a trail their soft light coaxing her onward. Paws move on their own accord, pulling the sick girl with them. The trek is short but slow, the gray girls labored breathing can be heard from quite a distance away. There are a couple times that Fern has to stop and cough out huge globs of ooze that have completely blocked her airway.

As she follows the lighted trail of fireflies, weaving around stone pillars, Fern wonders where they are taking her. She does not have to wait long for an answer as a table and robed figure come into view. The tired girl comes to a stop a respectable distance from the hooded figure and its table of wares. Eyes roam over the items as the shopkeeper speaks to her, telling her about the items and choosing wisely. Aqua gaze looks up into the darkness where a face should be and feels its blue eyes bore into her soul.

Fern feels defenseless against that gaze, as if all her faults and shortcomings have been laid bare for the creature to see. Yet, she cannot look away, the blue eyes, the same color of the fireflies, seem to move. After several moments looked into eye contact with this mysterious being, Fern diverts her eyes away and sucks in deep breath only to end up coughing it and more ooze back out a second later. The ooze covers her face as she bows her head in respect to the being.

Head lifts back up and she once more meets its eyes. Breathlessly, Fern says, “I am sorry but I do not have the currency you seek. I also have nothing to offer you. However, I give you my thanks. If even for a brief moment, I was able to remember a happier time and leave the hell that is my mind.” By the time she finishes, Fern is panting with the effort of speaking and trying to breath. Stepping back from the table, Fern offers the creature a deeper bow and wheezes out, “Thank you for this moment of respite.” Standing back up, Fern dips her head in farewell and turns to leave.


"Speech"

Firefly Shoppe- Fern

Fern has nothing to offer, and the hooded figure decides to not linger much longer- he's a busy cryptid, after all. "There is no need to thank me, young wolf. Perhaps your mother might be able to stay a bit longer. Either way, be sure to enjoy her while you can." With that he vanishes, sweeping up his table and items and disappearing into a cloud of mist.