BUT WE'RE YOUNG

OPEN FLOWERS IN THE WINDY FIELDS
OF THIS WAR TORN WORLD

Moth, the gentle girl, had always been wise. Cvijet had liked that about her from the first moment they made aquaintance, which was the reason she never stood in the way of Moth's relationship with her father. That, and because he sang her favourite ditty pretty much everyday he shared his den with Moth, the one about the two alphas who loved and lived in the sky. A fitting tale to be told by the warrior that had become a poet. The silver female pictured his face and smiled fondly before looking at Moth, eyes full of concern for the pain she knew the old warrioress was in. No matter their differences at the end, Cvijet knew that Faol'an would always want his compassionate ex-mate to be cared for. She still refrained from saying anything on the matter, however, knowing that the tawny woman was more than capable of healing her own ailments and obviously had reasons for choosing not to do so. It wasn't her business. She again thought about what Moth had said, that her wings had not been clipped but had only faded with time. Such sagacity behind so unassuming a face. Cvijet guessed that was the reason that Moth had always had all the males clamouring for her attentions,

“I am glad that you have allowed none to clip your wings, for all of Moladion would suffer the day that became so. Your healing prowess supercedes you, it is legend here.”

She smiled kindly, grateful that Moth had not taken her former joke to heart and seeking to make amends. And, if she remembered anything about the lady, it was that she loved helping others, no matter their ilk. What better way to bring a smile to her features then by mentioning how many wolves she had aided in all the years she had been alive? Sure, there were many she may not have been able to help, but such thoughts would drive a wolf mad and should not be dwelt upon. Cvijet knew this; she had been plagued by it for ages, haunted by the souls of those she had lost, those she had failed. Her grin faded as suddenly as it had appeared and Moth's followed suit upon hearing the news she had the bad luck of bearing.

Prior to sharing with her, Cvijet noted how the female winced at not being able to recall Raku. She allowed herself to feel bad for Moth, although it was a removed kind of empathy, the kind that gives one the illusion of being on the outside looking in. Only when Moth had the good grace to listen to her again, and was rewarded with words that made her scowl and back away, almost plunging to her death over the crags did Cvijet jerk back into reality, her heart quailing at the other female's reaction. She looked away to give Moth space to grieve, warm tears tracing tracks down her cheeks as she pictured her father's handsome face. The other female whispered her disbelief before speaking, apologising to the silver daughter of her ex-love in a voice rattling with her sorrow.

“I too believed this, but alas it is not so. He did not leave. He tried to save a pup, but they both perished in the flames. I look now for his Niviaq, for I believed she lived through this. I..I do not wish her to think he had abandoned her. We both know the unfairness of thinking such a thing, to all parties involved. I wish to her to remember my sire as a hero, a brave and loving warrior. Not the way I remember him, just a scorched skeleton littering the unfeeling earth.”

She was unable to go on, bitterness thick as gall in her throat, choking her, forcing the breath from her lungs so that she began to huff, pain evident in the way she held her body, her chassi rocking subtly from the weight of the her agony. She felt Moth's gaze more than saw it, heard her concerned lyrics, felt their angst, and was satisfied. Satisfied that the female had wanted no harm to come to Faol'an, satisfied that she had wished only happiness upon him. Cvijet felt as if a burden had been lifted,

“No, Moth. There is nothing you can do for me. I have ambitions which I alone must fulfil, and the things I need you cannot provide. I thank you for your generous offer, however. One day, perhaps, I will look upon you as my equal in rank, and then I will be pleased, pleased that I had done something with my life.”

---

age. twelve
daughter of. fao'lan
mate. none
pack. none
mother to. none
credit. x