Skill: N/A
Title: ゆめうつつ
Lodgepole

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Days didn't feel quite as long now with Trygve providing companionship. Still, admittedly, the boy was aloof—she could understand; he was young, and hadn't known her for long. She would be wary, too, if forced into such a circumstance.

Each morning her eyes would glue themselves to the gentle luster of dawn, the sky blossoming into muted pinks and soft peaches. The air would steadily grow tepid, losing the nightly bite of frigidity. It was the one time Akira could feel peace in her situation, the single time she could let the muscles in her body relax and her mouth lift into the gentle smile it usually would. Any other time, she would be busy fretting over her little companion or saddened by the loss of her lover.

Lodgepole.

It weighed on her. She missed him—his scent, his soft voice, his gentle demeanor. The way he would shed his saturnine frown when he saw her, the whimsy she was able to revitalize from spending time with him—

Lodgepole.

His name fits him so eloquently; he stood with the towering height harbored by a coniferous tree, refusing to relinquish his mannerisms—each and every idiosyncrasy that she'd come to know and love—even in the perilous times of midwinter, like a pine withholding their needles.

She hadn't felt his body against hers for months. Hadn't seen those smoldering eyes, harboring the color of a cloudburst, nestled her nose against the tuft of unruly fur on his head. Akira tried to be strong. She had to be, for Trygve's sake. For her own sake—but she could only handle so much. Bonded to him, heart and soul—a piece of herself had shattered, and no matter how much plaster she used or what sort of replacements she could find, it would never be restored. The shape of him was not one that could ever be replicated, and her frame would never fit against another's with the same comfort as his—a missing piece of a puzzle.

Akira stepped through the entrance of the burrow with a low huff. Outside was crisp, but not too much to leave her unable to travel. Still, the cold air nipped at her nose and it was not a pleasant feeling. There was no choice but to ignore it—she needed to eat, and so did Trygve.

Her steps were diligent, carrying herself through the woodlands with the silence of an owl's flight. Amber eyes scanned the scenery for even a slight movement; her nostrils lowered toward the ground and took a short whiff—

The woman's body froze. There was a scent along the ground that was undeniably similar to balsam. Sweet, slightly spicy... eyes narrowed.

Aster.

She could recognize the smell of aster anywhere. She adored the flowers, blooming so vibrantly against the dulling colors of autumn...

But in such weather, that would be asinine—No aster would bloom in late winter. No... her hunt abandoned, she followed the sweet smell of the blossoms with ears pricked sharply forwards.

There was a wall of trees in full bloom—which Akira could swear was never there before, not in the several weeks she'd spent in Briar's Veil. They were beautiful, yet their presence aroused a sense of unease in Akira's mind. Still, the allure of asters was alluring. Her lithe frame pressed past the trees and into the strange tunnel.

Emerging from the exit, the girl could see a scene ever so familiar.

She was home... with trees all shades of vibrant reds and golds, the air a tender feel that spoke of autumn.

She was home.

Akira could cry. She felt tears well up in her eyes as the strength left her limbs in sheer relief. She was home. Home. Where she belonged. A modicum of disbelief was still present, but the soil was so palpable, the atmosphere too real...

... where was he?

Lodgepole? she tentatively called, scrutinizing the area for a familiar shade of umber, Lodgepole... I'm home, my love! She trotted over the ground with her ears sharply pointed forward.

There was that smell—the smell of the river, of the top of the mountain. Lodgepole! She picked up her pace into a canter, then a sprint. She was desperate, following the sweet, inviting aroma of her lover.

One moment, he had been coiled tightly against the cold, praying in earnest to ward it away. But warmth had long since abandoned the lumbering beast's body. It had been cold. Oh, so cold. He had been starving without the aid of his Uncle and pack and miserably lonely without the company of his dearest friend Akira.

What had once been a lithe frame was now hollow, wide rib bones protruding in a gnarled, rhythmic pattern as his skin clung desperately to every sinew and ligament.

A final, shivering breath poured forth from his lips in a shaky rasp.

Until—

Lily. Buckwheat. Pine. And freshwater.


Weary gray eyes fluttered open, blinking against the onslaught of light. His den—no, not a den. A fallen pine, its towering roots splayed high, formed a hollowed-out refuge beneath its broad, needled arms. At its center, Lodgepole slowly scrambled upright, cadaverous shoulders rolling to shake off the haze of slumber.

And then—

The slough! The oxbow! Rolling hills unfurling into jagged peaks, their sharp faces catching the first light of dawn. Green stretched in endless swaths, meadow and woodland interwoven in seamless harmony. Rivers alive with fish that could fill your belly for days.

Home.

Riven. He’d be pissed to know he had wandered astray…

Akira.

Gods, Akira. A smile that could make the coldest winter air alight with warmth. A laugh that chased despair to the farthest reaches. The most fragrant and brilliant flower in a field of lilies. She stood alone, unopposed in her ability to stir something raw within him—an emotion he had only heard whispered in tales of old.

‘Lodgepole… I’m home, my love!’

Her voice? Impossible. Surely this was the afterlife. Unless… unless she, too, had been fated to this heaven? His vision blurred, fragmented at the edges. The thought of Akira dying wrenched a knot in his throat, insatiable and agonizing with every breath. Death had never been a stranger to him. Since birth, he knew he was a wolf too big for a world too small. A heart too large to be confined to the cage of his chest.

But Akira—she was too good for such a fate.

He prayed she was merely a figment, an apparition sent to him from the Other Side.

“Akira?” All he could do was offer a hoarse bark in the direction of the sound.

"I'm here," He croaked again, yet his voice remained determined. His throat had been dry, cracked from dehydration before, and yet he was still plagued even in the afterlife? It was then his gaze shifted to his paws. Lanky, sinewy, knotted... just like before. All at once, exhaustion slammed into him, and the wolf crumbled under the pressure. An awkward, half-hearted sit was all he could muster. His large, rounded head peered helplessly forward, searching for her distinctive bi-colored ginger coat.

He needed to find her, to hell with the consequences.

"Akira!"

Skill: N/A

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Frantic, she skirted to and fro in search of him—his body, his eyes... his scent was overwhelmingly familiar. The one shred of normalcy that she'd experienced in months. Akira grew desperate like a starving animal. Craving the touch from her lover, growing weak without it.

'Akira?' She gasped, ears swiveling as far forward as they could. 'I'm here...Akira!' From the direction the voice could be heard. Akira suddenly raced forwards, as quickly as her limbs would allow. Lodgepole! Bursting through the treelines, she finally skidded to a halt. Heart pounding in her throat, breaths leaving her nostrils in strong huffs.

There he stood—long limbs, furled tresses, soft gray eyes, and a melancholy expression. Akira nearly fell onto the earth—she could recognize him anywhere. Lod- I... Lodgepole, my love, she cried, trembling in relief. She hobbled forward, stumbling against the stones that littered the ground. She halted only once her body collided with his, her visage buried against his withers, her nose desperately nestling between the unruly fur of his back.

Between suppressed wails, she spoke. Lodgepole, I'm so sorry, she sobbed, I couldn't find you, I-I've looked... She trailed off into uncoordinated gasps, rendered speechless. She could feel his bones jutting from his skin—a wave of guilt crashed into her body, so overwhelming that she nearly collapsed. You're so skinny... she breathed out weakly, my dear...

Akira limped forward in desperate motion before colliding into him. Her head fell heavy into his chest, and at that moment, he remembered just how small she truly was. Had it really been that long? Had he forgotten just how well they interlocked? Despite his reminiscing, it quickly melted away to surrender to peace. Her body was warm, soft, sun-kissed. She felt like summer.

Lodgepole's eyes closed and his feeble arm rose to pull her closer, soaking in the moment as much as he could.

His Akira.

She pulled away slightly, against his wishes, to glance him up and down.

'Lodgepole, I'm so sorry, she sobbed, I couldn't find you, I-I've looked...'

He merely blinked, awe-struck. She was there, too? In the cold and desolate forest that had nearly taken his life? How could he have not seen her?

'You're so skinny... my dear...'

Then, her breaths came out in frantic rasps, and shame washed over his frail body.

"No, no, no..."

Lodgepole shook his head quickly, as if in a despairing attempt to relieve her of her guilt.

"It's okay, my love. No more pain," The large wolf offered a dry lick of his tongue to her temple before nudging Akira's chin, motioning for her to look beyond. "We're home now. I wish this wasn't what it would take to bring us back, but..." He swallowed hard. Death. The price to pay for returning home.

But if this was the afterlife, why was he still so hungry, so thirsty? Despite the warmth on his back, his body felt cold. He dragged himself closer to her.

"We have all the time in the world now, to explore the Creek, just like you wanted. And my heart won't hurt anymore," His tone softened. Once-hopeful speech devolved into mutterings that fell aimlessly from his lips. "...where's Alpha?" Try as he might, his words were near-incomprehensible ramblings of an ailing man.

Skill: Heartbroken [1/5]

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'No, no, no... it's okay, my love. No more pain,' Akira's lips curled into a soft smile, and she nodded slowly. Y-yeah, she whispered, I've found you, now... and so help me, I'll never let you go. She slotted her head against the crook of his neck. Amber eyes fluttered shut whilst her nose, nestled between the tresses of unruly fur, inhaled his scent.

She'd been afraid that she might forget the smell of her lover—but it was so clear, now, that such an outcome would hardly be possible. He was engraved to her mind, every bit of him—his appearance, his smell, the soft sound of his voice. Whatever sacred presence which oversaw them could try their damned hardest to take him away from her—and deep down she knew that they could not.

'We're home now. I wish this wasn't what it would take to bring us back, but...' For a moment, she cracked open her eyes. What did he mean...? Before she could contemplate a question, he continued— 'We have all the time in the world now, to explore the Creek, just like you wanted. And my heart won't hurt anymore.' No. No, he wasn't implying that... was he?

She snapped her eyes open. Distantly, she heard him mention Alpha, but she didn't care about that—not now. W-what're you talking about, Lod? She tried to keep the waver out of her voice. Take... what? To bring us back? She smiled weakly. No. No, he's not dead. He's an apparition. He's real. She's touching him, feeling him—so palpably.

The gods couldn't tease her like this.

Wh- we... nevermind, she breathed quickly, lets... lets go, explore the creek. I won't splash you with water this time... probably. She chuckled softly, returning her exuberant façade that masked over the visceral fear she felt deep-seated in her body. 'He can't be dead. I can't be dead.'