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Tenzin was content in the bubble of chores, listening to the silence and the breathing of the others. She investigated every inch of the cabin, and spent some time staring at the strange drawings scrawled in biro on the bathroom walls, trying to fathom what on earth they were. Perhaps these were the drawings Sierra thought the other girl would come back for. Little of it made sense, and she was curious by now, but did not go through the bags of belongings. Though someone’s wallet beeped several times while she was preparing the food.
She joined Sierra on the floor to share the meal. Though Tenzin was long used to the company of the wolves, she’d never met another of the kin, not even back home. It was the first time since Leh she’d not had to keep her eyes concealed, or her secret close. Guilt over Jacinda played in the back of her mind as she contemplated whether it felt like a betrayal, though it wasn’t like she had revealed anything Sierra could not discern with her own senses. And it felt nice to be herself with no guard.
She’d removed some of her layers in the cabin’s merry heat, and the tattoos from shoulder to wrist were clearly visible. A few braided bracelets circled her wrists, but otherwise she was dressed entirely practically. She did not know if Never would already understand what she was, for it was part of the name the wolves back home had given her, and therefore part of their understanding. The dance they described amidst the stars was one of fierce guardianship and protection against enemies that would threaten pack. But the wolves back home had hunted with her, and Never had all the ranginess of a half grown pup. He was excited for the new company and might not discern the nuances.
If Sierra had ever been hunted and knew it, she might check for the snake tattoo nestled amongst the plethora of others. Or she might not. Either way, Tenzin planned no deception. Not with one of the kin.
“Just from village,” she answered the question with a small laugh. “Local dish.” The pelmeni had been bargained amongst all her other business, not made from scratch, though Tenzin did consider herself a decent cook. It helped keep the mind human when untempered instincts craved the blood of the hunt. “But not hard. When I small, everyone cook. Sharing all the chores. Mostly live from land. But cooking good, helps the mind – remembering not actually wolf.” She raised her brows with a grin, and wagged a finger in the motion of one of her old tutors. Clearly a fond memory for all rākṣasa hatyārā lessons could be harsh. “Cook well or eat poor.”
Afterwards she gestured to the beeping bag, though it was presently quiet. Unlikely to be Wildfyre, of course, not to mention that the wolves would have alerted them already had anything changed. “Bag making noises while all sleeping,” she said. Curiosity laced the tone and her golden gaze both. Sierra’s scent was calmer, but the worry had not diminished. Tenzin’s inquisitiveness was youthful, but she’d let the other woman set the pace.
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Sierra was grateful for the hot food. It had been a while since they'd stayed in a proper place. Not that she minded staying in the wilderness. She preferred it actually. There was an odd comfort sitting with others of her kind even if she didn't know Tenzin.
Her broken English was cute. It was like talking to Never. Totally a different way of thinking about language.
Tenzin indicated which bag was making noise and Sierra frowned. "That's Thalia's. I don't think we should look. She's not one of us. We've only just met." Sierra didn't add that she knew Tristan or rather Tristan knew her. And he'd slept with said persona in the dream. Just as he had her -- in the dream. It wasn't real. She tried to put it out of her head and smiled at Tenzin. "She's Wildfyre's friend. They came to save another friend. I'm only here because of Tristan."
She took her own wallet out and fired off a text to Tristain. She'd almost forgotten about technology. There was usually no need for it outside of the city.
There was a storm. Are you alright?"
"Maybe that will reach him, where as the dream did not.
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When Sierra made it clear the bag and its wallet belonged to another, Tenzin accepted it with a shrug. Thalia was not pack, then, and she didn’t give it another thought beyond the subtle twist in Sierra’s scent when she spoke about it. Wildfyre’s friend. Wolves and kin both kept to themselves in the dream usually. Though there were others who shared the place, it was generally for different reasons. Since Tenzin used the dream to reconnect with her brethren when the cities were particularly isolating, she had never actually encountered one, nor desired to.
“Hurting?” she asked softly. Her nostrils flared to the quiet scents, and she only voiced it because Sierra was kin and it fostered in her a natural sense of camaraderie. She didn’t fear overstepping the mark, because Sierra would simply correct her if so. She watched the other woman reach for her own wallet, and tap out a message.
“Can talk if wanting to. Good ears for listening.”
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Sierra chuckled. "I'm not hurting so much as annoyed." Which wasn't the whole truth, she was hurt as well, but life is what life is -- not perfect. "Tristan is pack. He's a good man. A good ... mate." Though that had not exactly been anything said in words, but they shared a moment in the dream. Apparently he shares many a dream with many a woman. "Thalia is nice, and sweet and innocent. She doesn't even remember what she and Tristan did in the dream. She only knew she had to come here. And Tristan came to help whoever it is in the water."
Sierra sighed and Never jumped up with his paws in her lap and Bre followed suit in Tenzin's for some scritches. Neither pup cared who ruffled their fur as long as they both got some. "Tristan just wants to help but I thought it was more. We were pack. I was mistaken. That's all. He's just pack. I promised him I'd stay with him here, that's what pack is. But I don't know if he'll come back or not. Obviously didn't mean as much to him as I thought." Sierra finished the last of her food and ran her fingers through Never's fur. At least he was never going to leave her.
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09-05-2024, 09:00 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-05-2024, 09:06 PM by Tenzin.
Edit Reason: added link
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She let Sierra speak without interruption. At her hesitation over the word mate, Tenzin glanced sideways at the damaged door. Strong emotions, Never had explained it as, and she presumed now that it meant Tristan was torn between two females. “Why blaming self?” she asked as she set her plate aside. Tenzin liked to keep a clean den, but she would tidy up later. Brenna soon occupied the space on her lap, nudging her snout under Tenzin’s hands so that she obliged. The affection was without thinking, her attention still on Sierra. “Not stupid to trust kin. Connection strong for us. Of course trusting mate. Not Sierra’s fault.”
Whether it was a betrayal or a miscommunication worsened by the sudden distance, Tenzin did not know. She had no consolation or advice to offer what was essentially a very human matter, just the empathy of her listening ear. Though her lips pursed a frown for how self-effacing Sierra’s reaction was, like she believed she was not good enough to return to – not just as a mate, but as the heart of Tristan’s pack. Why did she value herself so little? Tenzin buried her face in Brenna’s fur and scratched behind her ears as she considered how broken it seemed.
Never clearly sought to comfort Sierra, and it was a solace, as pack always was in times of need, but it did not change the hurt – or the quiet acceptance of being left behind. Tenzin couldn’t change that either, but she didn’t like the scent of it any better.
“In dream,” she said eventually, “have met Thornpaw. Old wolf with much memories, and one who found Tristan alone in land where no wolves live. Always different, say Thornpaw. Not just wolf in here.” Around the wriggly bundle of Brenna, she patted her own chest, and glanced at Sierra to see if she had any understanding of what she meant – if Tristan had already shared this with her. “Not meaning human like all kin. Blood of something else.”
When he first sought her aid in the dream, drawn by the tales of Star Dancer, Thornpaw had shared a recent memory; one of how tremors had cracked through the dream – things Tenzin did not quite understand, no matter how the old wolf explained it to her, beyond that it had spread like a warning through all the packs. An ancient threat, or an old fear, she couldn’t be sure. But when Thornpaw raced to the danger, all he found was Wildefyre and the figure they called the Forgotten One. He had stalked and gnashed since, worried enough to have chased the trail to one who the wolves understood fought against the darknesses of the world. Not because he wished to turn on his brother. But because he feared for him.
“Has other name there. Sun Snatcher. Not wolfname, but is Wildefyre same. Is why came – or some of why came. Tristan is kin the same, but different too. Lost maybe, still learning, and hurting out in process. Not excuse. But reason maybe.” She was intense in her explanation, but wished she found the English easier. Perhaps he did not see pack the same way, was what she meant. That, or he was just a typical roving male and had not thought at all, but it seemed an unkind thing to say. “Not worthless, Sierra.”
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Sierra wanted to snap but she listened. It was easier to just let the words happen and for Tenzin she was translating in her head too that couldn't be easy. If only they could talk like the wolves, that would span the gaps. But she understood enough. Tristan had shown her the troll stone. Called himself a Troll. But she didn't believe him. It's hard to believe in things you don't understand and maybe it was a reason. And she wasn't blaming herself. She hadn't done anything wrong, maybe the explanation was hard to explain.
She cuddled with Never who was still pushing and butting his head against her side for attention. "I know that it's not my fault. But I shouldn't have thought it was more than what it was. He's a pup. Worse than Never in many ways. He doesn't know the ways. It's why I came back, Why when he asked I stayed." He was pack. That was all that mattered. But pack didn't mean the same thing to him.
Sierra smiled. "But enough of that. It is what it is. Bre is here, Thalia's things are here, wherever they are, whatever they are doing I think they'll be back for that. Tristan is pack. I will wait." For now she thought. She wasn't sure exactly how long that would be, but for now she would wait. "Why did you come for Tristan?"
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For a moment Sierra was all spikey, and Tenzin felt her chest lift with relief to see it. The scent of anxiety parted for assertiveness, and Tenzin understood that Sierra had taken the role of mentor to someone new to their connection. That was a luxury afforded few kin, whose wolfish teachers were sometimes unable to communicate how easy it was to fall entirely to feral instincts. Many were lost that way, and it was the reason the Atharim counted them among the monsters. She thought of her own change. The steadfastness of the monks when she had been a creature of tooth and claw. She had not been kind to them then, either.
“Good. Am glad to know,” was all she said, genuinely relieved to know that whatever caused Sierra to doubt his return, she did not blame herself for it.
For the question, she pondered how best to answer, settling for: “Not for. Because.”
Thornpaw was not the only wolf to speak of dangers, just among the oldest of them she had met. In the dream it seemed they knew what she was and supported her snarling defence against things of darkness, some of them talking of a time when they had run alongside man against a great evil. Memories like that were reigniting, for most packs had still never encountered a two-leg in the flesh who could understand their language. Tenzin’s journey to Moscow itself had been at Silver’s guidance, for it was where the Apollyon made the heart of his kingdom, but wolves remained impartial unless they had a good reason to flash their teeth. There were others who were also watched closely, though at a distance. The world was changing, and rapidly. It was a time for vigilance.
“The old wolf worries. Not just doesn’t know the ways, Wildefyre refusing them. What he says anyway. Wildefyre in danger. Or is danger. Not understanding all.
But Chase is wolf asking, when all hear the dream’s call. Wildefyre is gone, or does not listen, or is lost – but not dead. Long Eye and Never are alone. So I go.”
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Sierra smiled knowing she was part of the reason Tenzin was here. "Tristan isn't rejecting being a wolf, he's just new and uncertain. He's been told things his whole life and it's hard to get past them." She understood that problem. Her own integration into the world was strange and new but it was the wolves who had helped her.
For now she was happy to not be alone. Having the pups and the wolves nearby was great, but she still missed people. She missed Tristan. And Elyse and Mara, but she now had a new friend, one who understood and wasn't alone or a pup in things. Sierra noticed the tattoos covering Tenzin, it was much like Thalia's art and her photography. "Does your snake tattoo meany anything? I have a friend who has one -- a snake eating its own tail. It has special meaning to her." Sierra didn't mention that she had nightmares about the tattoo. Her brother having been killed with a man with a similar tattoo.
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Tenzin nodded, thoughtful. Wolves did not always understand the humans to which they were bonded, and old and wise as Thorn Paw was, Tenzin also valued hearing Sierra’s assessment of the man pup who caused such anxiety. He frustrated his mentor in the dream, and apparently also his own mate if she was not certain he would find his way back to her. But Tenzin accepted the difficulties in learning late, and in finding one’s own way. She did not wish to think ill of one of the kin, and Sierra and Tristan had been travelling together for months prior to their separation. If there was anything untoward in his character, perhaps owing to his blood, she was sure Sierra would have become aware of it before now.
The question turned her golden gaze briefly down to the tattoo in question. Both her arms were bare, and she had purposefully made no effort to hide her Athari marking. For Sierra to have discovered it amongst the colourful tapestry inked all over her skin, Tenzin reasoned she must have had an encounter of some kind in her past – not just the friend she spoke of, but the little sting in her scent just then which revealed something less positive. She turned her arm so that Sierra might see clearly where the serpent samsara was nestled, which felt odd and natural at the same time. “Meaning same, am sure,” she said. Her muscles were loose, her hands relaxed in quiet communication of her lack of threat. Then she twisted slightly, to show the ink of her upper arm: a woman dancing into the kalari snake pose, surrounded by the celestial heavens.
“Is meaning of Star Dancer. Light that keeps darkness at bay. My people fall far from path, but I learn far in the north. Is different there, is learning, and when I change I accepted.” She gestured briefly to her face and the bright gild of her eyes. “Hiding normally. Most still see monster. We not.”
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Sierra smiled and nodded when Tenzin said it probably meant the same thing. If she had just been like the man that killed her brother, she would likely not be one of the kin. And she was. As was Elyse. "I imagine it's difficult sometimes to do what they ask of you. My brother was killed by a man wearing a similar mark. But I know that like all of us, there are others who not the same as him. My brother didn't deserve to die, but he was a danger. He got lost in being a wolf. He never came back to me."
"Hiding is never easy." Sierra reached into her pocket and pulled out her lens case and removed her own brown contacts. "It's easier to just leave them in so I don't forget. You never know when you will run across a two-leg even when with the pack."
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