Just when she had risen through the ranks, her world had crumbled around her. She had blossomed like a flower, a flame burning iridescently, only to be pulled out from the ground, extinguished. Now she was a pile of dirt, a lump of ash, worthless, her life meaningless. What purpose did she hold in her life anymore? Without her friend, she was nothing. No, he had been more than a close friend. He had meant so much more to her. He had come back for her when her life had fallen apart. Now she was bursting at the seams she had tried to fix herself. Where had he gone? Had he told anyone? Why hadn't he told her? She could have gone with him, regardless of her commitment to Celestial. But why had he left? Was it because of her? Was it because of her, the ebony woman from Argead? Anything but, please, she prayed.

And she had never told him how she truly felt.

Well. This sucked.

It was a real punch-in-the-gut feeling. She knew the depression, the anger, the cluelessness, all too well. Practically drunk on these emotions, these symptoms, she remained snug underneath a bush with sparse thorns. All day she had lied there, on her back, staring up at the bush's vast connection of leaves and branches. Occasionally she jutted a leg out to punch the bush, thorns piercing her skin, the scent of blood filling her nostrils. Rage just overwhelmed her, blending in with the despondency, the abandonment, the loss of her identity, to create this one feeling, sensation. The pain was almost intoxicating; mental and physical. She had been through this shit before, losing everyone she loved, her home, her life. How much had to be thrown her way?

"Speech"

-::-

Things were going relatively well; his youngest siblings were growing like weeds, he’d brought at least one new wolf into the pack – Solveiga -, and he was feeling okay about the future of the pack, if only the near future. Things were never completely certain, and he would take things as they came. However, there were things that had already come that niggled. Miksa was still missing. So was Ganja. Had the illness sweeping the land taken them both? Ganja had already been sick when she’d disappeared… He’d tracked Miksa’s scent as far as he could with it so stale already, and found nothing. No blood, no fur, no body… No smells of other wolves that he could define. It worried him. But maybe the white male would be back. The scent of blood, and Varda broke him from his musings as he strolled across the plains, having finished his patrol, and he leapt forward with a bark. “Varda?!” The concern in his voice sent the called name booming more than he’d intended as he raced after the scents on the breeze, skidding to a halt as he saw a bramble bush shake forcefully. If he ducked down an bit, he could just see her white fur through the branches. ”Varda?” He dropped to his belly, scooting forward until his head was under the bush with her. Gods, she didn’t look good, and even as he looked at her, she punched the thorny branch again, seemingly oblivious to the pain… Or maybe there was a pain she was more focused on. He was no expert on love, but he’d known and seen that she and Miksa were quite close. Miksa had been the one to bring her to Celestial when his mother had held her claiming. The two had never really been apart… His ears fell back slightly. What must she be thinking? What must she be feeling? She hadn’t really mingled deeply with the pack yet. He had come across Zuriel’s scent mingled with Varda’s one day, but few others. Admittedly, he was also aware that Baine hadn’t been getting the training she was supposed to get, but that was both of them. The white Destruction woman looked like she might punch the branches, and he reached out a paw, wanting to stop the self injury. “Hey, hey, hey. Varda. Look at me.” It was a gentle, rumbling command, but he wasn’t sure if anything would get through to her right now.

She took no notice of the approaching male. She disregarded his scent, his pawsteps. The outside world just blurred from her perspective. Celestial ceased to exist. It was just her, chasing after a man that had probably left this earth long ago, left her long ago. He might as well have been a memory, a shadow, a ghost, an echo of what was once lost. He had always been with her, somewhere in the background, never too far away. Even when they had been apart, something brought them back together. She believed in that something, that force, that bond. He said he would always be with her, and she promised that she would follow him where. They were friends, even more than that. They were there for each other. He had promised her that.

What a load of bull.

It wasn't until she aimed to lash out at the bracken bush again that she finally noticed the male, his vibrant red paw interfering with hers. She stopped, slightly quivering, though not daring to meet his sapphire gaze. She remained silent, blinking a few times to force back the tears. What was this emotion she felt? What was this new low she was wallowing in? Anger? Depression? Betrayal? She couldn't even describe it. But finally she spoke, hoarse vocals cracking through her dry throat, with a somewhat light tone. She spoke to no one in particular, just whoever was listening. "You'd think after all you've been through, someone would be there for you." Her lips pulled into a small, almost maniacal grin. The thought itself was so ironically amusing. She could make herself smile sometimes, with all her flaws and the parts in her life where she had screwed up. Why had she been so naive to trust someone in the first place? To think they would always be with her? Everyone left, sooner or later. "I suppose we all thought that, one way or another."

"Speech"