[ AW ] Losing My Religion

It

was late afternoon in the Lowlands, and the summer sun blazed with fury in a cloudless azure sky. The femme didn’t notice how hot the sun was as she stood there, out in the open. She was not supposed to be here. But now, Willow felt as if she could not leave.

Terror. All-consuming. Raw. Burning rage. Bitter heartbreak. Nothing made sense. No words…

First was Daisy, snatched away from Clover and her family, as if she had vanished into the ether. She had been there to see Daisy born, lost so young, with a shattered family left behind.

Now, Arythmetik… He was gone, too. The kindest wolf there could be, sniffed out for no good reason. There was widower to console, but what help could a few sympathetic words be in comparison to losing the love of your life? To see the depths of Grigori’s sorrow… It was shocking. She had never seen a live like theirs. And it was all gone now.

Her daughter was in the care of Sundstol now. Willow needed to — well, wasn’t entirely what she needed, but solitude was among those things. Rowan didn’t understand… And Willow did not have the words to explain to the girl the depths of these losses.

Nothing made sense anymore. The unexpected, the unfathomable— it all flashed before her eyes until she was too stunned to cry. Here she was in an unreal reality, beneath the sun, alone. The possibilities of what could come next felt too vast to conceive. Willow felt frozen, physically, mentally… even if the world kept turning, it was as if she was standing still. Stuck.

A heavy sigh parted dark lips as the emotion threatened to catch up with her - until she heard the sound of someone or something nearby. Still, she did not move, or even look to see who was approaching. What did it matter?

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Killigan heard the tales of Melrose. It didn't make sense to him: a meadow of many flowers? How did these things not get trampled by the travelers that set foot to traverse through the Lowlands? This week, Killigan seemed to have nothing but pitiful time to spend, and so he makes his way into the Lowlands to see the beautiful land for himself.

They're right. Slowly swaying with the hot summer breeze are thousands upon thousands of little flowers. All sorts of colors, some colors that Killigan didn't even know flowers could have. Then again, he likely just never spent time to sit and stare long enough.

A smile shadows his lips, and the wolf takes in a deep breath before closing his eyes and running aimlessly. It's a free field, where he could run for minutes without colliding with anything. This sort of luxury was never affordable in the woodlands, and Gods, did it feel nice to feel nothing but wind scrape against his--

BWAM!

He hits something, landing face-first into a pocket full of posies. What the hell? Killigan was sure that Melrose was void of any tall structures.

A bit flustered and confused, Killigan opens his eyes, spotting a wolf of all things that had been standing in the flowery field. He must've missed her when he was barrelling down the hill... of course he did, because his eyes were sealed shut.

"Uh.." The younger wolf stumbles over his words, "You alright? I was running pretty quick there... till, y'know, I was kind of... interrupted."

Killigan bites back a wince of pain that radiates across his shoulder, trying to put on a strong face. There's a chance that this woman would want a bit of a fight for his idiotic collision with her. Oh, Gods, he might as well beat her to it.

"Alright, alright, alright. I'm sorry!" He reluctantly blurts, scowling at her as if he's actually the one deserving of an apology.
--
@Willow

Willow would soon regret not looking over when her senses were alerted to another’s presence. Her head turned just in time to see an enormous brute barrelling toward her… but not in time to do anything about it, not even to dodge out of the way to avoid the much larger form from striking. A startled cry parted her maw as the stranger collided full-force into her, sending the average-sized wolfess flying several feet before she hit the ground again.

The stranger stumbled over his words, but Willow could scarcely make sense of them from the place she had fallen. It would be several seconds before the wolfess would pull herself up from the ground, though it took considerable effort to do so, and back onto her paws again, wincing as she did so. Her right forepaw throbbed with pain as she held it delicately above the ground, balancing instead on three thin legs.

An unpleasant smell wafted from the beast as he began to spout off again, blurting out an apology that hardly seemed sincere. Dark-tipped ears folded backward, nostrils wrinkling in distaste. Willow simply stared in surprise, her disbelief scribbled across her facade as her bottom lip began to tremble. Her mouth opened as if to speak… But instead, she began to cry. No, it wasn’t crying. It was a mournful wail, the sort heard only at funerals, and her face scrunched up with emotion. ”Why?” Between sobs, she managed to ask, ”Who are you?”


@Killigan

art + code: clae

What were those weird clear orbs falling from her green eyes? Wait a second, tears? Really?! His ears instantly fall flat against his head, gulping sheepishly like a dog who had just been caught in the treat cabinet. There's a lot of things Killigan made others feel: annoyed, angry, happy... but the emotion he hated seeing the most on other wolves face was sadness.

A look of sympathy crosses his features, and the man steps forward, glancing into each of her eyes like he can somehow manage to freeze those tears that fell from her face. But in honesty, he thought this woman was being a bit too dramatic.

There wasn't any blood staining her fur or the petals of the flowers below them. Maybe she'd have a bruise or two in the morning, but to completely break down like this over a simple accident pertrubed Killigan.

"Idiot!" Killigan thinks to himself, surprised that she wants his name, "Uh, my name is Killigan. And you shouldn' really be crying that hard. You look... great!"

It was the wrong choice of words, but it came out of his throat in a gentle tone. He has no idea what to do, or how to console her, so he trudges forward, a bit invasive. Killigan raises a large paw, dabbing it at her muzzle and trying to soak up the moisture.

In this process, he smudges dirt all over her face. Absoloutely nothing was working in his favor today.

"Oh, Gods." He curses, eyes widening like a mantis, "Hey, look, I'm so sorry. I can fetch y' somethin' to eat, or..."

The wolf trails off, blood running cold with fear as he waits for another thunderous wail to bellow from her maw.
--
@Willow