Take Me Away

The day had started out gorgeous. A radiant sun illuminating every inch of the land, no clouds as far as the eye can see. Only the clear baby blue of the sky as even as a silent pool. With the migration of birds and bugs alike, there had been plenty to study and the world was filled with music. Birds and young frogs chirping. It was idealistic and the young boy had gotten lost in the world around him, trying his hardest to discover all the things he had read in his books but had yet to see in person. So…why couldn’t it stay so blissful as iron consumed the air and whines circulated around the forest like an eerie will o wisp luring its next victim. If only it was something so built on fairy tales, but this was a cruel reality as pain rippled along a crimson coated frame that was once so perfectly white and unblemished. Curiosity had led one a little too far south and the consequences had been drastic toward the one so innocent of a crime he hadn’t even known he committed until fangs coiled and snapped into his flesh and tore him to shreds by those Imperial Soldiers. He wanted to call out to his family, for one of them to scoop him up but he knew it would be fruitless. None of them had a reason to dwell here and what if it enticed more soldiers to come? Bird song had been silenced and replaced with the daunting caw of ravens and crows seeking an easy meal as they circled in wait for nature to continue the cycle of life. He laid there on his left side, focusing on his breathing with every ounce of his consciousness. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out… How it hurt, able to feel each rib expand where teeth and claw had punctured, making his chest shake as he closed his eyes to try to block the fact his vision was hazy. He did not believe a fog had rolled in over the course of a matter of minutes, not like the way he was seeing. That whining would soften as he continued to only pay attention to his breaths. Out and in. It was too painful to be a dream and he was afraid to move, thinking he might just bleed out faster or fall right back over. If they thought he was dead, maybe he’d be safer. He had at least removed himself most of the way from the border, back into the safety of the Fae Forest. What if one of the Jacobites thought him an intruder into this land when this was his home? He didn’t like his odds on either front as he took in a far deeper breath before hoisting himself to his paws, drawing his broken body toward some foliage as he heard movement from more than one direction, trying his best to hide but the blood trail would make that endeavor pointless as he flopped into the brambles and bushes. He was no better hidden than he was before, but he felt at least a little safer, unaware of how loudly his breathing truly was or how his fur popped out amongst the green. He was just trying to survive the best he could. The wounds, though painful, didn’t seem fatal if he could just…survive.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

Fae Forest. Roisin had tried to avoid anything that was associated with them ever since they had used her deceased brother's face to torment her family. She was wary of their power. It was beyond anything that an ordinary wolf could comprehend. The Samaires had always respected the natural spirits and beings that could not be seen by the mortal eye. Roisin had been raised on stories about how the fae’s favour was a boon, but could easily turn to a curse because of how fickle they were. If it wasn't for the border she would have avoided the creepy forest.

Once upon a time it had been her childhood playground and now it was a graveyard of memories and regrets. The past was always two steps behind while her future seemed to get further and further away no matter how hard she chased after it. Revenge or redemption. She had failed to redeem herself in the eyes of her father so all she had left was the grudge she held for the Vanadiums.

Seeing white fur stained with blood made her tremble with anticipation. Was it him? Was he truly dead? Roisin approached, slowly at first, all too aware that it could be a prank from the fae. A white paw turned his face towards her and she realised that it wasn't Elias after all. Snowy brow furrowed dark thoughts creeping into the light now that an opportunity lay at her feet. The resemblance was one that couldn't be a coincidence. It was Elias’s child. She grabbed him by the scruff, and dragged him to a more secluded part of the fae forest so that nobody would find them.

Her neck muscles were aching and she was panting heavily by the time she was done. Keeping him alive was a priority. As much as she hated Elias and anyone who shared his blood, she wouldn't let a child die. Her first aid efforts were clumsy and ugly compared to someone properly trained, but it would have to do. A few scars wouldn't kill him.

code: elyon | art: ookamina

His whole body would tense as the steps seemed to be getting closer and closer until he would force himself to go limp, trying to make his breathing shallow enough to appear dead as a fallen tree. Though what if whatever was coming ate wolves? He heard stories of even the fae eating children, granted he wasn’t about to start believing in them just cause he was light headed. Even as close to unconscious as he was getting by each unruly second, he wouldn’t allow himself to start spinning into delusions of little imaginary creatures, even if one popped up into his vision right now. He would credit it to a hallucination from blood loss since that made way more sense to him. As he slouched, losing all rigidity to his body, he would feel the looming presence of something larger than a squirrel checking him out and he didn’t dare open his eyes. He remained that way even as a paw touched his face, though he couldn’t help the flinch of his brows as pain danced with the gentle movement the creature did. Though the paw was small, he would notice it was a canine probably no bigger in size than his mother, comparing the touch to hers. It wasn’t quite the same. The perfume was all wrong. This one was more musky while his mother’s was sweet like flowers but there was hope that would cause his eyes to open enough to see between his pale lashes. Fox woman. This wasn’t his mom. Out of everyone he knew, she scantly reminded him of his uncle, if only from the fire pelt but even that was vastly different. This stranger was orange while his uncle was cranberry. It was her eyes that made instinct cause him to shake and wish to flee instead of pretending to be dead. There was something sinister there, just as cruel as those that harmed him but in a way he couldn’t determine seemed all the colder. He didn’t get to see her for long before she moved, making him think maybe she was going to go away and he would be safe from further torture. That wasn’t the case as he jolted as the feeling of needles digging into his nape. He wanted to fight it, to jerk away but aside from digging his nails into the earth and making the stranger’s life harder, he couldn’t really do anything to combat her. He was tired. He was weak. He was at her mercy; he had a feeling didn’t even exist. Once released, he started to question if she was enemy or ally as he curled up more into himself, trying to block her from touching anything vital. Pale blues danced with her movements, watching her with scrutiny as she teetered around trying to apparently help him. Ears pinned, watching how awkward she was despite not seeming shy or anxious. “You are bad at this…” he murmured meekly into the fur of his own tail that covered a good portion of his face from her view as his shoulder reflexively flinched away from her clumsy touch and anywhere else she insisted on prodding him. He had bite and claw marks in a variety of places. It was clear more than one wolf had fun mauling him, blood even seeping from his crown. Chances are if they had aimed a bit higher, he might have a torn ear instead.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

Red infernos swirling with hatred looked down upon him with cold calculation. A paw pressed down harder and with firm insistence when the youth shifted at her touch. She growled, lip curling just enough to reveal the hint of a canine in a silent threat. It was tempting to leave him as he was when he insulted her attempts at first aid. Nostrils flared as she inhaled sharply, willing herself not to push his face into the dirt and when the moment of irritation passed she looked at him again with undisguised disgust. There was an echo of Elias in that pompous voice of his. ”Suck it up, Vanadium. I’m not here to kiss your boo boos,” she sneered, with no sympathy or concern in her voice or expression. Her hatred of that family clouded any morals that might have held her back from committing such a crime. This was retribution. Justice for all the pain that she had suffered under the Vanadium yoke.

”Fight me and I’ll hurt you,” the cold threat came, rough highlander accent smoothed out on certain syllables by a smooth mainlander articulation. Her teeth nipped at his scruff in warning before she seized it and her small frame braced for the weight of the larger yearling as she attempted to drag him out of sight and away from the border behind a thick copse of trees where a hollowed out oak tree log lay and unceremoniously shoved him inside. It was damp and musty inside, but it was secluded enough that he wouldn’t be found without an intense search.

code: elyon | art: ookamina

He watched her with an equally calculated coolness as her weight was stamped down onto his wounds, making his muzzle wrinkle in a far from pretty way as pearly whites flashed with hostility to the woman’s callousness. Where anger wasn’t an uncommon feeling, it was one generally only allowed to surface in the form of annoyance. This time was different, he wanted to sink his fangs into her for purposely harming him like a sadistic monster that had no morals carved into her veins. A prank and a a little wrestling with his siblings were one thing but he couldn’t fathom harming them on purpose, always quick to let them go the moment they showed any genuine anguish. This woman seemed to thrive in it, desiring to harm him further if he couldn’t do anything to counter it. There was just something in her eyes that made him certain of this, something twisted her had never witnessed before. Something he wanted to understand, study as his lip relaxed a little while his head tilted in curiosity. How far would she go? He was hardly out of his pup days but would that weaken her resolve to butcher him? A failed healer turned torturer. She was an enigma he wanted to crack as much as he just wanted his mother. The mention of his surname would make ice narrow and only further curiosity to whirl around in his mind. He knew he looked like his father, so it wouldn’t be too surprising for someone to narrow down his lineage. However, that name was far from flowery upon her tongue, a pure acid that would cause his head to tilt the other way, nearly tempted to smile but the muscles along his lips were far from trained to hold such an expression. “Vile imp… are you the banshee my parents speak of? I can see why they are disillusioned with you being fae,” he retorted meekly, more than willing to test her patience with him. She lacked a wolf’s instincts to protect a child and that alone fascinated him. Her threat hardly silenced him, already believing getting out of this alive was futile. “I’ll come willingly if you enlighten me with answers,” he said with exasperation but resolution to this statement. He was in no condition to fight, he knew this. If she knew his family that means they could be in danger of her as well. It was better for him to concede for not only his health but his loved ones. If she didn’t agree prior to pulling him around, she’d be greeted with a nip to a wrist that got a little too close to his head in her struggles to move him.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

The bristling fur of her russet mane danced along her nape, prickling with concentrated rage that bubbled beneath the surface of her skin like boiling venom. Crimson flashed in her gaze as radiant as rubies and her pupils dilated with excitement, black over taking red like an eclipse during a blood moon. This child, as insufferable as he was, was an unexpected boon. She didn't believe in the kindness of the fae and she knew they would demand she pay a price for the generosity of their gift. So be it. Roisin was prepared to pay for it.

The words of the Vanadium child were far from what she expected. She blinked, wondering how he had come to that conclusion. “Just as ignorant and stupid as Elias. It must be genetic,” she muttered to herself, deciding not to humour his foolishness with an answer. His next words were what finally drew her attention towards him. “And arrogant too. You don't have a choice, Vanadium. You're in my custody now. What happens next depends on your father,” she told him, words sharp and direct. “Be a good little hostage and maybe I’ll tell you a story,” she dangled the prospect of the truth on her terms. There would be less chance of discovery if she didn't have to drag him kicking and screaming.

code: elyon | art: ookamina

His brow would raise at her calling him an idiot and sputtering his father’s name so willfully. He didn’t expect a forest lady to understand anything, let alone one like this that seemed to lack a brain whatsoever. “Says the old crone with no maternal instincts. Only monsters are pathetic enough to threaten to harm a child for no reason whatsoever, besides he’s already hurt. Can only hunt the easiest target of all, cailleach grànda,” he retorted, wondering if this creature was even smart enough to understand he called her an ugly grandma in his grandmother’s tongue. Would it enrage her more if she did? Fangs would bar when she threatened the use of his father against him and it gave him enough energy to sit up if only to send daggers into her hideous blood eyes. “Who says he will do anything or notice? I don’t even live with him right now; I live at the dorms in Aberdeen. Grammy and Grandsire, though, might rip out your throat if they find out,” he grumbled a threat her way, knowing his grandparents to be far more volatile than his parents. One an ex-soldier and the other an activist thrown into a jail a few too many times protesting against the Crown the other protected. Nothing he ever cared for, he rather learn all he could than fight with brute strength. Eyes would narrow. “Dè an sgeulachd a tha sin?” (What story is that?) He wanted to know but didn't want to seem too invested in case she kept trying to use it against him. Letting her have the upper hand wasn't in the deck he wished to play with this diluted yet potentially useful crone in what she may know of his father.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

Roisin's ears occasionally flicked and her eyes narrowed at the Vanadium brat’s audacity while her jaws and paws worked to weave a barrier of thorns and branches that would keep her charge hidden from the forest nomads or would be rescuers. She wanted to laugh at the irony of his words. The Vanadium's had been her jailers for over two years of her life. What the boy would endure was a fraction of her suffering. “Would you rather the Imperials have dragged you away to their dungeons? Don't whine, cuilean beag,” (little puppy) she said, curling her lips in contempt. His insults were like feathered strikes, soft and flimsy. Her heart had been hardened from Elias’ vicious tongue and his little mini twin still had a lot to learn if he wanted to shake her.

“Let them come,” she replied, turning her head away from him and continuing to work on her makeshift prison. Her many battle scars were a story of their own. She had survived many battles during the war and was confident that she could overcome whatever was thrown at her in her pursuit of vengeance. “The truth about your father,” she offered, pausing from her work to spit out plant debris. The former Vanadium maid doubted he had told his family anything about his rotten past or his attempt to frame her for his murder.

code: elyon | art: ookamina

Surprise, surprise, she could understand him in both tongues. Instead of fighting her, he decided just to be dead weight to make it harder on her as it put even more weight against her from being able to yank him so, in his mind, easily. His head flopped on the ground, and he allowed his legs to hitch on some wood that would hopefully keep him in place a bit longer so hopefully someone that might not be a psycho could save him. Efforts were futile, feeling her win against him far easier than he would have liked, even with his bulk she didn’t have on her own frame. “I’m starting to think I might. You are a horrible, deranged hostess,” he growled, truly thinking maybe he would be better off. It was clear she wasn’t actually trying to help him. “Soldiers on either side can’t be any worse than you.” She was small. If only he had some strength, he could simply smack her like a pesky fly and walk away, pretending none of this ever happened and his day never got messed up. That was a pipe dream, and he knew that as he let out a long whine as if that might help him to play the pathetic damsel in distress. Unfortunately, he couldn’t bring himself to cry. Quickly he gave up the farce, knowing he couldn’t charm his own parents in such a way so why would it work on this lunatic? “You know, for a brooding clearly unsocialized buzzard, it’s shocking you have the smell of others anywhere near you. Why not bring me to them? Maybe they at least won’t lack brain cells” he stated his observation as his fake sniffling had brought in a few scents that proved she wasn’t just some beast living in the jungle. Maybe that was why she was so confident and lacked fear of his threats, there were others just like her that made her feel like this was normal behavior. “Why barter with your prisoner? That information must damage you more than it would me. Acting like I don’t know my own father, as if I have any reason to believe a word you say,” he returned, kicking to break some of her handiwork just to anger despite knowing getting away was a lost cause until he could get his energy back.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

As the sun peaked over the dense canopy of branches and leaves so thick that only scattered spots of light were visible between the gaps, it became clear to Roisin that time was passing and she was making very little progress with the useless lump of Elias cells that she had regretfully decided to borrow for a while. “You would starve to death or die of infection from your festering wounds in that pit they call a dungeon down south,” she pointed out, so far unimpressed and bored of his pathetic attempts to resist her. “You’re not the only rotten piece of Vanadium trash that came from Elias. I can find another if I need to so don’t waste my time,” she hissed, slamming on a paw on one of his tangled legs.

“Do you have any sense in that stagnant soup of a brain sloshing around in your skull? Or did Elias’ genes ruin any chance of that?” she questioned him, idly wondering about the state of Saoran colleges and their low standards of admission. “My family despises yours almost as much as I do and you would know that if your father had told you anything. But you don't know who I am, do you? He's left you in the dark, open to his enemies like a sacrificial lamb. Maybe you were right… Maybe he won't care that you're gone,” she couldn't help, but laugh at the irony of her situation. She would get what she wanted either way so she didn't care. Everyone would know what a monster he was.

code: elyon | art: ookamina