Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Under any other circumstances, Zawyne would not have been happier. All Arcus Irae knew that they were meant to bring happiness and joy to other wolves and that they had the capabilities to quell disagreements. They each had their strengths, and although all very similar, they were of course also very different. Zawyne’s strength had been discovered very early on – she had a supporting soul. By itself, it was beautiful, delicate, but when mixed with those around her, it grew. Were two of a couple fighting? Zawyne could bring out the love in their hearts for each other and dispel the argument. Were it the same situation but with strangers? Zawyne would calm their minds and bring to them the peace that they truly desired. A pup had difficulty sleeping? Zawyne could send them into a peaceful slumber by filling them with feelings of love and safety. She was a quiet warrior of love, a pacifist who never wished ever to draw blood herself, nor to see blood drawn. But Losa had, especially since they had fled from their homeland, struggled to find her strength. She had gone from princess to queen in one day, and was left with the hefty responsibility of protecting the few remaining members of their people, finding a safe haven for them, and trying to prevent their extinction. But Zawyne had never worried for her sister, not until the warm, guiding light had suddenly disappeared. The cold that trickled in from its absence had sent Zawyne spiraling into a nightmare, and when she had woken she had been sure that her sister must be dead. Relief had filled her once she had ensured the contrary, but uneasiness had still filled her. Losa was meant to lead them and protect them, but who was meant to protect her? Aindreas and Vladimir did what they could, but unlike in their homeland, the Ofers here placed their own land and families first, before the safety of the Arcus Irae. That was why Zawyne had been happy that Hurricane had found them, after all this time. Surely his arrival would fix everything.

Only, it seemed to make it worse!

The two – Hurricane and Losa – seemed not to be talking. After the whole escapade with the vampires and Ambrosia and Adara, Losa’s light had been relit, a beautiful burning bush capable to leading them to their salvation. But still Zawyne worried that without a special something, the wick could be cut. The flame blown out. The candle melt down to nothingness. What Losa was lacking was the one that Zawyne could dole out in heaps to everyone else… to everyone… everyone but Losa. Losa was missing love. Yes, Losa loved Zawyne, loved all the Arcus Irae and the reverse was true. But she needed more. And if Losa was too stubborn to see it and do something about it, then Zawyne would just have to see that it happened.

She had waited until a time at which Losa was busy – not out doing anything volatile or risky, just hunting for small prey, ones whose teeny little paw prints were so easy to track with the crisp layer of snow. And then, she had sought out the one Fehrward she needed to see right now – Hurricane. He was gifted with no magic, but then again, magic wasn’t everything. Magic did not solve everything, and sometimes it solved nothing. And sometimes, it was the most natural and unassuming miracles that did the most good in the world. She dared not call for him, in case Losa had kept near to the den, and instead searched around until she found his large paw prints. Tenderly, she lowered her nape so that her nares could taste its associated scent, ensuring not to open the large ugly scabs upon her neck from where Draven had bit her. Assured that they did indeed belong to Hurricane, Zawyne followed them. Minutes, perhaps an hour or more passed, and still she trotted steadily until she found him, or he found her.

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