a sharp breeze buffets the fur along their spine, drawing a violent shiver from their tiny body. around them, the world is a veritable riot of colour, oranges and reds and yellows splattering the floor like a bloodstain. as Araneae takes another plodding step, a leaf crackles pleasingly underfoot, and a giggle rises, unbidden, to their lips. they are still so young, a child brimming with curiosity and mischief, and they can’t resist stamping down on the leaf in quick succession, shattering it into tiny yellow pieces. a short ways ahead, a second set of footsteps come to an abrupt halt. a sigh rends the air, and they perk up as Mother’s weary amber gaze tracks over them with brisk impatience.

“Spider,” she calls – because Araneae is too much of a mouthful for one so small – “put that leaf down and hurry up. We’ll be late.”

they give a disgruntled huff as they quicken their pace, falling into step beside Mother. the two of them walk together in relative silence for a while, broken only by the distracted snatches of song Araneae bursts into. “Mama,” they say finally, straining their neck to look up, up, up into that lined face, “what will we be late for?”

“what?” Mother snaps, eyes closing in exhaustion. it’s an expression they’re familiar with, that screwed-up brow and those thin, pursed lips. tired, they know it to mean. just tired, love.

“well,” Araneae says, as though it’s obvious, “we can’t be late if no one’s waiting for us. is someone waiting for us, Mama?”

it’s a perfectly logical question to them, but it must be the wrong question, because Mother halts suddenly and looks down at them with a strange, unreadable expression shifting across their face. after a moment, they look about and give a short, brisk nod. “i suppose this is as good a place as any.”

they tilt their head, eyes imploringly curious and innocently trusting. “for what, Mama?”

Mother sighs and twists her neck, emitting a series of sharp clicking sounds. “i need you to stay here, Spider.”

Araneae opens their mouth in protest – but Mother looks so serious that it’s all they can do to shut it and offer a slow, affirming nod. “okay.” Mother gives a wan smile and turns on her heel, but she only gets several steps away before panic sets in. “wait! where are you going?”

Mother returns to their side in a matter of heartbeats, a frown marring her face. “stop that, now.” it’s only then that they realise they’re crying. “i need you to be brave. you can be brave, can’t you?”

they nod again, still hesitant. but Mother is looking at them with great expectation, and they so desperately don’t want to let her down. “o…okay.”

Mother gives a quirk of a smile, and it’s the happiest they’ve seen her in months. “good. i knew you could be.” She presses a chaste kiss to their forehead, and warmth sweeps through them from their head to their toes, engulfing them so immensely they want to cry again. “goodbye, Araneae.”

they watch the spot Mother had been long after she disappears into the distance. they watch the spot until the sun lowers in the sky and their stomach begins to complain. they watch until it’s so cold they can’t even feel their toes.

but she never returns.

Hazel was the General now-- holy shit. Holy shit. If her father could see her now... if he could see. It was so strange to think about it, how it had been a year and a half since everything had happened. Since she'd nearly died. Since she'd nearly been abducted. Since she'd killed him. Even stranger to think that it had been three years since she'd walked through the places that they'd walked together, since she'd been to the places where she'd been left behind. In light of recent events, the General was spending more time away from the Armada. Rumors had begun circulating that the Pirates had picked up and moved elsewhere. Azure was still missing. She ventured south, looking for more clarity on both situations.

The Nook itself had been Habari's stomping grounds, at the time. Hazel's mind a bit foggy with the memories of it all, though she could feel the deja vu. It colored her gaze as it rested on the world around her. Fall had come, though it was still early yet. Not too cold, at least this far south. Hazel would admit that she missed it. She missed the warm days that lingered long into autumn. The north was frigid for most of the year. Though it was rare she questioned the Warlord, hazel had never really understood the decision to drag the whole pack up north.

It's as she scans Redbud Nook that her gaze falls on a child. A small, dark thing, alone on their own. Her forehead creased, scenting the air for a moment. Searching, seeking, looking for anyone else nearby. Nothing. Clearing her throat so it doesn't seem like she's sneaking, Hazel steps from the trees. "Are you lost?" She questioned the pup, keeping her distance. Trying not to be scary. She could only remember being on her own like this, and how scary that was.

"Speech"

they are so fixated on that singular point in the distance, the point in which Mother’s speck truly disappeared from view, that this new voice nearly scares them clean out of their skin. they startle violently as a woman’s voice sounds nearby, drawing their eyes from the horizon for the first time in hours. a headache pounds against their temples, and Araneae screws their face up against the pain. “i’m fine,” they gasp out, bottom lip trembling in a terrified pout. they try desperately to wrangle their features under control, to not show fear in the face of this stranger.

i need you to be brave. you can be brave, can’t you?

”Mama just…went away for a little while.”their little voice chokes off on the final word, as if their very voice rebels against the idea of it. Mother, gone. ”she told me to stay here.” oh gods, the tears are coming, spilling in earnest now - and it’s all they can do to bow their head and hide their weakness. “i-i don’t t-think she’s coming back.” it’s a hiccuping wail, bringing with it the bitter pangs of shame - and deep down, Araneae knows it’s their one final disappointment as their Mother’s child.

sorry, Mama - but i’m not brave.

I'm fine, the little voice says. The little voice that's on the verge of tears. Hazel knows the sound well. She knows that the child is trying to be brave. The pup is trying desperately, though the illusion doesn't hold. Hazel regards the child with gentleness, but not pity. Never pity. Kids like them... they're survivors. Stronger than anyone else would understand.

The child knows. The child figures it out quicker than Hazel did. They are awfully small, showing signs of being underweight. All sharp angles and bony elbows. Hazel, usually a bull in a china shop sort of girl, is unusually gentle. She sits down on her haunches at a distance, not wanting to scare the child off. "You can come sit with me, if you want." Offering the pup her side, Hazel waits. Trying to appear non-threatening. Trying to be the adult she needed, when things had gone the way they did.

"I'm Hazel. I ah, I know how you feel. They left me just on the other side of that treeline, when I was your age." Maybe that would break the ice. She could hope, right? She indicated the treeline just to the south with her muzzle, and a soft sigh. At the time, another pack had lived here. If they hadn't, maybe Hazel would have been dropped right here, too. Wait right here.

"Speech"

the woman settles nearby, and it’s a relief so palpable they can practically taste it. stranger or not, to be left alone again would be so intolerable they might just break with it. at her invitation, they shuffle tentatively closer, seeking body heat and the solid company of another, but can’t quite bring themselves to breach the final gap between them. Mother had always warned against getting too close to strangers, and…and then she’d left them here for anyone to find. something dark and angry rises within them so abruptly it frightens them, and they push it down before it can grow any stronger.

the woman speaks again, and Araneae perks up, ears straining with interest. sniffling, their gaze drifts to the aforementioned tree line, then back to the woman - Hazel - trying to picture a young, frightened version of her abandoned among the undergrowth. it is no easy task; this is a woman of great strength and power, muscles rippling beneath her russet pelt. it is hard to believe she was ever unwanted. a surge of hope grips them; Hazel had been in their very position, and yet she’d grown to be a formidable force. for a moment, Araneae allows themselves to imagine a future in which they grow just as tall and strong, towering over Mother years later with a triumphant smirk. maybe then, Mother would finally see them as more than a troublemaking child. but there is something more there, too, something that expands in their chest when they look at Hazel: kinship. they both know what it is to feel abandoned, discarded - and in the child’s mind, it linked them.

with slow, cautious steps, they cross the final space between them and sit at Hazel’s side, hunching against the cool of night. “i’m A…Aran…eae,” they whisper, stumbling over the syllables, eyes trained on their feet. their face feels hot and sticky from tears. “but you can call me Spider.”

The pup is tentative, shy. Hazel doesn't blame them. She can't. There's something about this situation, the inherent danger. Just being left out here, though? As an adult, it strikes her how fucked up that is. Now that Hazel knows how much bad there is out in the world... it makes her even more angry. It makes her angry for her situation, it makes her angry for the pup beside her. She's angry at the world all over again. How can things be so fucked up? All of the thoughts in her head are dark for a long moment, but Hazel pushes them away. It's not the time. The General has bigger things to worry about.

The pup closes the gap, introduces themself. "Spider, then." She regards the pup fondly, staying still while the pup closes the gap. She remains gentle, neutral. "The world is yours now, know that?" Hazel sighs gently, wistful for a moment. It's a unique kind of freedom, one that Hazel can't explain or describe. It takes living it, to know. Like members of a secret club, the two of them sit within the Nook.

"Is there anything you want to take from it?" The world, Hazel means. It's a big question for such a little pup, but in a moment like this, it feels appropriate.

"Speech"

there’s something wise about Hazel, something steady that immediately draws their attention. as she speaks, the child angles their head up and blinks wide, guileless eyes, trying to absorb every word. the world is yours now. it is a baffling concept. nothing has ever been wholly theirs, and the idea of having something of their own is almost…exhilarating. it is for this reason that they think over the woman’s question with such care, little brow crinkling as they turn each word over in their mind. what did they want? they flick idly through a hundred possibilities: they wanted friends to play with; they wanted a warm bed; they wanted to find Mother and ask her why. but maybe, ultimately…

“i want strength,” Araneae whispers, so soft they aren’t entirely certain their voice has carried. they frown down at their feet, something hot and prickly working it’s way beneath their pelt. it feels like shame. “i wanna be strong, so that next time…i can take care of myself.” they won’t sit helplessly on their own, waiting for someone to find them. next time they’re left behind, it won’t matter - because they’ll be just like Hazel, big and strong and ready to take on the world.

a loud growl interrupts, and Aranae flushes as their stomach continues emitting low, unhappy gurgles. “but i think i’d settle for a meal right now,” they confide, gazing up at Hazel, equally sheepish and hopeful.

The pup spoke, and Hazel offered a gentle, encouraging smile. They wanted strength. They wanted to be able to take care of themself. She knows that feeling all too well. They wanted to feel like they could handle it. To handle being on your own against the world.... yeah, that was a feeling that she couldn't describe. It was only now, as an adult, that Hazel felt that way herself. It had only been recent that those feelings had really solidified. "That's a good goal," she nods softly, considering. Next time strikes her. Hazel decides that, if she has any say in it, there won't be a next time. "There's strength in asking for help, too." The words are soft. Halo had taught her that. There was no shame in asking for help.

A meal. That's something Hazel could do. Rising to her feet in one fluid motion, the girl looked to Spider beside her. "I think that can be arranged," she grinned. "Do you like to hunt? There are usually all sorts of rabbits and small tasty critters out here." The Nook seemed to attract lots of juicy prey animals. Small as they were, the rabbits were chubby and delicious this time of year. She grinned to the pup, head tossing. An invitation as she took a single step in the direction of the treeline before them, ready to lead the way.

"Speech"

warmth spreads through their chest at Hazel’s approval, and they can’t help but preen a little. she’d said it was a good goal. the child would admit, the second half of Hazel’s statement drew some confusion - asking for help could be strong? wasn’t the whole point of strength the ability to stand alone? - but maybe it was one of those things they’d understand when they were older. they’d always been assured there were many things they’d understand one day, and until then to shut up and not ask any questions about it.

at the mention of a hunt, their stomach growls louder, and Araneae stumbles eagerly to their feet. “i…don’t have much experience,” they admit, face heating in momentary shame - but the excitement of their first proper hunt quickly brings a smile to their face. “i can learn, though!” clumsy in their eagerness, they scramble to Hazel’s side and quicken their steps to match her stride, ready to follow wherever she may lead. the terror of the day still weighs heavy on their heart, but for now, they push it firmly from their mind.