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krwordgazer wrote: Coping with death or loss A fight between two people who are usually close Making a mistake Loving physical contact that isn't sexual Something shiny Fog It was one night, almost sixty seven moons ago, but for Wildthorn, it may as well have happened only sixty seven seconds ago. His physical body bore no scars, but his heart was rendered open but the foul touch of Fate. He clutched at his chest, as if that would stop the pain that bore down on his heart with such ferocity that it threatened to kill him with just the pain he felt alone. ** I want them all dead, ** Wildthron suddenly sent. Shadow, his closest friend looked up at him. His blond, light haired, fair skinned friend's face bore no sympathy. ** You can't kill the humans, ** Shadow sent in reply. ** We're not even sure if they can be killed.** ** They bleed like you and I, ** Wildthorn retorted, leaping down from the branch. ** They can die. Even if we must bleed them to death.** ** Look, what happened to Purespring,** Shadow began. ** Don't. You weren't Recognized. You've never been. You can not understand this pain,** Wildthorn cut off Shadow's send. ** She was my sister, ** Shadow retorted, his sending dark and powerful. ** Do not dare say that I do not know what you feel.** ** Then how can you say that we can not avenge her?** Wildthorn sent. A cold, chilling wind blew between them. The forest floor, slowly welcomed the rolling fog; almost symbolic of Wildthorn's mental state, Shadow noted. "I found her," Wildthorn finally spoke for the first time since Purespring's death. "I found her, Tyru. I found her with a spear in her heart. She was..." Wildthorn broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. "She was still alive. She died in my hands. In my hands!" He held out those hands to his Soul-Brother, as if the blood he had tried so desperately to wash off, still stained his hands. "She died in my arms," he sobbed. "In my arms," she repeated. “She may have been your sister, but you can’t know what that was like. To have her die in your arms.” “I want to strike back at the humans,” Shadow finally admitted. “More than anything, I do. But don’t you see – if we take one of theirs – they will do what we’re doing. They will come back and hunt one of us down. And the cycle will never break. We will fight until there’s none left, Jorn.” “I miss her,” Wildthorn said, wiping the tears away. “I miss her so much.” “As do I, Soul-Brother,” Shadow said, his black mane of hair now damp in the thickening fog. Shadow wrapped his arms around Wildthorn and kept him close; a sharp contrast, one light haired, light skinned; the other, hair as black as night, and skin tanned and bronzed. After a moment of shared strength, Wildthorn finally broke away slowly. “You’re right, Soul-Brother. You always are. This would have been a mistake. It’s just it’s been so long and the pain has not subsided. I don’t know what else to do when I get up and it feels as if something was feeding on my insides.” “I know,” Shadow said softly. “I miss her too.” Within Shadow’s den, Wildthorn spoke to his Soul-Brother, remembering the life that Purespring had led. “Do you remember when she got this?” Wildthorn held up a golden trinket, that glittered in the hazy starlight. “Do I remember?” Shadow chuckled, as he consumed another goblet of dreamberry wine. “What other female in our tribe could ever coerce a troll to forge them a bracelet?” “She was rather fond of Trollhammer,” Wildthorn remembered. “He wasn’t so bad, as far as trolls go,” Shadow nodded in agreement. “I think he was smitten with her,” Wildthorn giggled, the dreamberry wine clearly taking effect on the mourning elf. “I used to think this thing,” Shadow flicked the necklace that had a green emerald shaped like a thorn attached, “was some kind of trap that was going to strange you.” “Just to get me out of the way?” Wildthorn laughed. “Just to get you out of the way,” Shadow nodded, though it felt like his head was moving in slow motion. There was a pause, before Shadow finally added, his words, now slurring. “I remember when the two of you Recognized. We three were hunting a large boartusk that I had tracked. And as I was chasing it – you and Purespring were supposed to net it. But in that moment, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes… and,” Shadow clapped his hands together, “Recognition.” Shadow paused again, “You’re lucky that boartusk didn’t gouge you and that Purespring at least had enough sense to tackle you out of the way.” “When I ran up to the two of you,” Shadow continued, “with her on top of you. The way you two were looking at each other – like you had each seen a High One. And I knew that my Soul-Brother had Recognized my very own sister.” “You used to say you felt sorry for me,” Wildthorn laughed, pulling his blond hair back into a tight knot. “My sister was a handful,” Shadow laughed. “She really was,” Wildthorn nodded. “Especially between the furs,” he added. “That,” Shadow said firmly, “was something I did not need to know. But trust me, you two made sure you knew the whole Holt knew.” Wildthorn blushed. “That bad?” “That bad,” Shadow nodded, smiling. Then the dreamberry swept Shadow away in the same darkness of his namesake. Shadow’s eyes flew open. The sun was coming in through the front of his den. He immediately looked over and Wildthorn was gone. Leaping out of his den – the nightmare was only just beginning, having just woke up. The ground was soaked with dreamberry wine. Wildthorn hadn’t drank at all – he had been dumping it, and biding his time until the effects had swept Shadow under. Shadow snarled. Now it was time to do what he did best. Hunt. Though this time he was not hunting deer or bear or boartusks. He was hunting his best friend. His Soul-Brother. He was running frantically through the woods. Wildthorn made no effort to hide his tracks. He knew this would be his last hunt, one way or the other. “No, no, no,” Shadow said to himself over and over, never slowing down. He pushed his body to its limits, then demanded with relentless effort, to go far beyond it. Wildthorn burst into the human hut. There, a startled human woman suddenly stood up. She did not need to speak the tongue of the elves to see the maliciousness in his eyes. “{My husband did not mean to kill your kind,}” the human woman said. “{He was hunting deer. We have been outcast from our own tribe because we refused to hate the Wood Spirits. We know you do not hate us!}” “I don’t know what you’re saying,” Wildthorn growled as he gripped his spear. “But your mate killed mine. Now I take his, and make this even.” “{Please,}” the woman said. “{I have a child. My husband did not mean to kill your kind.}” Wildthorn drove his spear through the heart of the human woman. Her death was instant. Something that Purespring did not get. But before her death – she had let out a scream. One that had not gone unheard. “{Yurika!}” the male hunter screamed. Not far away, Shadow heard the same scream. “No, Wildthorn. No. Tell me you did not.” He pushed his body faster. Harder. Tears burned from his eyes. “No. No. High Ones, tell me you did not…” Shadow arrived just as the human had arrived to his tent. He saw blood seeping out of their wooden tent, and saw Wildthorn backing out of it. “Jorn!” Shadow tried to call out the warning. Wildthorn turned and saw the furious human, holding his spear. He could have killed Wildthorn before he turned – but he hesitated – why? Wildthorn took the human’s hesitation as a sign of fear and lunged forward with his own spear. “No!” Shadow cried, and rapidly knocked an arrow to his bow and unleashed it. But it was already too late. Fate was already in motion. The human’s spear went through Wildthorn’s body, while the arrow struck the human in the shoulder. Wildthorn’s own spear pierced the human’s stomach. Shadow jumped over the brush and slid next to Wildthorn. “Don’t breathe, Soul-Brother.” “I,” the human grasped Shadow’s arm. “I,” he said again, speaking the tongue of elf. “I tried say sorry. I no mean to hurt her. Wife hungry. Child hungry. Though she deer. I sorry…” And death took the human away. Shadow’s eyes widened. He turned his head slowly towards Wildthorn. But Wildthorn was already too close to death’s door. He did not see or hear anything of what the human said; he did not even see Shadow anymore. Instead, she was there. Purespring, his Soul Mate. She was waiting there, to take him away. To take him home. To a Palace. Where they would wait for others to come and unlock its secrets. Wildthorn died, smiling. Shadow bowed his head and removed what had been the necklace and bracelet that Trollhammer had made for each of them. He then stood and tilted his head back and howled. Wolves came in response to carry members of their tribe back. It was two nights later, before Shadow could return to where they had buried Wildthorn, next to his sister. He placed the bracelet on Purespring’s grave, and placed the necklace on Wildthorn’s. “We will be reunited one day,” Shadow said. “But first, there’s a war I must stop.”