"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
There was a whisper of desperation in the air. A rocky unknowing, as if everything they had worked for was suddenly slipping away— Reagan is running. Her paws cling to the foliage at her feet as she quickly brushes past them, the scent of the hunt intoxicating her mind. She longed for blood, and she would get it. Such was the way of the magician these days. Forever in the background, allowing Ruan to take the foreground. He was the diplomat—the leader. She was merely the protector and she allowed him his room. The last time she’d seen him, the last time they’d been together—oh, that tumultuous time. He had looked at her with those eyes cold eyes of his, and had merely walked away from her, seeking solace in their children, and in the trees they called home. No longer was her embrace welcomed by him. No longer did they share a den—and these night time hunts— They were no more. Estranged, yet together. For their children—for the forest. The white wolf continues to run, her green eyes glowing as the tears of memory drain down her face. She was the magician, and the care taker of this forest. Forever alone. She waited for the day that he would recognize his own power within himself, and come back to her, but as yet, it had not happened. And so Reagan has slipped into a life by night, allowing the day walkers their peace, and granting them their petition to the sun. She is with them, and yet she is separate—as is tradition of the nocturnal. Reagan is drunk on the smell of her meal, focused entirely on eeking a living out here in the wilderness. Alone. The only place she has ever belonged. The only home she has ever had.
It was his fault, he knew. He was cold and distant, as he had grown to be in their silence since what happened to him. And since the enemy was welcomed in their home. No, since she stood against him as a defense to the bear. His heart burned with bitterness at the thought of it, a deep hurt and anger that he kept smothered beneath the chill of his ice. She hadn't meant it the way he'd taken it, he constantly tried to remind himself that, but it didn't seem to help. Each time he thought of it, that was the day she turned on him.
His chest rattled low and his claws dug deeper into the earth as he ran, pacing ahead of her. Leading. Hunting. They always did this together. Even though he was so very distant.
He could feel her shattered heart fracture within the merciless ice of his own, could smell the salt of her tears as they darkened her cheek. With clenched teeth, he ran harder, sacrificing any chance of hunting as he welcomed the burn in his limbs. But he could never escape the pain, hers or his. Could never run far enough, hard enough, to leave it behind. And he couldn't take it anymore.
His weight shifted and he suddenly twisted around, lauching himself at her with a silent snarl and knocking her down. He stood over her, black chest heaving with panting breaths, and bright eyes nearly glowing. Angry, frustrated. He hated that she was crying, hated that she was upset. Hated himself for it because of course it was his fault. The bitterness, the hate, was all directed at himself. He was doing this to her.
Silence took residence over them as he stood there, staring down at her with eyes that gradually shifted from rage to something surprisingly soft. She was impossibly beautiful, even now when she looked so miserable because of him. His breathing eventually slowed, returned to normal, and he stepped even closer as his nose sank to brush against her cheek, her throat. Mine, he sighed in his mind, not really meaning it to speak to her thoughts. Just for himself. Mine.
He didn't know how to fix this, how to fix himself. He was wild and broken, and not at all what she had wanted maybe. Not at all what she had thought she fell in love with. Maybe he was a disappointment; he felt like one.
But just then he couldn't seem to focus on those thoughts. Just then all he could see was her, the pale and soft of her on the ground, at his feet. The vibrant green of her eyes. The beat of her heart at his mouth. He breathed into her coat, pinching her experimentally, gently, as he watched her with intent blue eyes, wanting desperately to revel in this rare sense of peace and warmth. Just a little longer. If she'd let them.
She stops. Suddenly the hunt is the last thing on his mind. All that stares her in the face is blind need for her partner. She hates him. She misses him. She loves him. She needs him.
Their quarry escapes, and it is with a curse that Ruan tackles the white wolf to the ground, pinning her down with black paws. Reagan gasps, and feels the need searing her again, and she tucks her tail down, hiding the wetness there. A gasp escapes her, and she looks up at him. And remembers.
She heard his mind. Of course she heard his mind. She has always had his heart and mind plaguing her own. Mine he says, whispering to himself, as if he wants to keep this secret to himself. So long, they have been together so long, and yet he still keeps his secrets from her. What she has wanted for so long, is transparency. She wants to hold him.
She wants him to hold her.
Her beautiful black wolf, his coat pulsating against hers as she looks up at his clear ice-blue eyes. She reaches up with a paw, and pulls him down on to herself, willing him to feel her heartbeat, reveling in the warmth of their bodies tangled together in muscle and fur. With a small yelp, she rubs her body against his, wet and slick, wanting nothing more than him, and his heat. So long she has been alone. So long she hears him howling in the dark, wanting the peace that only the wolf can give him.
She wants him. She wants them. Reagan presses hungry kisses to his face, before getting up slowly and trailing her tongue and teeth down the length of his body. Her tail flips upward, the smell of her readiness is heady—for the wolf has a different mating season than horse. She kisses his skin, tugging lovingly at him, marveling at the way the black of his pelt shimmers silver by moonlight.
He is so beautiful. And as she works her way down his body, tenderly laving love to all the sensitive parts of his body, she surrounds him, signaling her readiness. The alpha wants to be made submissive. Her voice croons to him, sounding with a husky sound, as the fog rolls in unnaturally around them. Some things are not meant for the eyes of others. Tonight is for them alone. “We have much to talk, about. I have seen your mind. But for now, I want you to love me.” She nips his ear, before running her tongue and teeth to the underside of his jawline. Her green eyes flash her need to him. “Put all your pain on me. I can take it all,” she whispers, before flipping her tail up to tease him once more.
She gasped when he knocked her down, her emerald eyes meeting his. In surprise, maybe? He stared back blankly, waiting to see if she'd want this bit of warmth he offered with a faint touch of his nose to her cheek. But it wasn't warmth she wanted, it was heat, so much heat. From a freezing cold to suddenly searing hot, he was burned. She reached and dragged him down on top of her, bathed him in her body and scent, and he snarled, jerking away.
She followed with urgent kisses, trailing little bites down his body. Each one had the burn of a wasp, stinging into his sensitive skin as his fur raised on end. She was loving and wanting love, but it was too quick, too soon, and he wasn't ready. He didn't want this, even with her intoxicating scent surrounding him, suffocating the air in her desire for him. Even though he still loved her so deeply, ached for what they once had. This was different. It wasn't right, wasn't the same. It was hurried and empty, just physical. Neither of them wanted that.
Her teeth clipped at his ear, her mouth drawing down and along his jawline. The touch stole his breath in a sharp inhale, kicked his heart a little faster and shrank his pupils, but still he side-stepped out of her grasp, his shoulder twitching. Put all your pain on me. I can take it all. I need this as badly as you do.
No. He shook his head, brows folded in a tight frown as he kept a short breadth of space between them, walled up his heart. Distant. Safe. We don't need this. This isn't love. He remained where he was, watching her, his pulse swift and unsteady though he stood so still. Like a wild animal, he was wary, piercing eyes trained on her and ready to dodge another too-fast approach. He realized dimly what it meant; the trust was gone. She cut him deeply, and though she was trying to heal it in her way, she was burning him with alcohol when he needed a warm, soothing rag.
He needed gentle. He needed understanding.
He needed time to feel safe again.
She looked at him, and stepped back, confused. No, he’d said. This isn’t love. A gasp threatens to choke her as she steps back, not bothering to mask the pain and hurt she felt in her eyes. Tears slink down her snout and hit the ground with a green puff of smoke, and she raises her hackles, bearing her teeth at him.
“What? What then?!” Reagan is in pain, and it is the wolf that threatens to overwhelm her—to claw her to death. She cannot take it anymore. It is the wolf form she assumes for him; He has not earned that privilege. And so she turns herself back into the grullo mare she was born as, wild and angry. Irish in all her glory. The wind picks up and the snow begins to fall as her words are carried away on an echo, accompanied by angry snorts of cathartic release.
“You say ‘this isn’t love?! I am hungry for you, Ruan! When I needed you to believe in me and to trust me most, you LEFT me. Betrayed my trust, left my side, and went to find them.” She spits the word, knowing it would sting as she intended. She did not care about not hurting his feelings anymore. She was in pain, and wanted to know that their love was still worth it; that it was still worth fighting for.
The breeze changes to a blustery wind, and her voice follows its crescendo. “I am hungry for your love, your prescence. I CRAVE your trust and affection. And you spread it around to them. Your lady wolves. Our daughters. You have even abandoned our son. All for what? Your wings? You knew they were temporary. And instead of TRUSTING me, and BELIEIVNG in me, you slink off. For the good of the forest…” the wind stills, and her voice quietens down, as she shrinks away from his warmth, as if she’s been singed. The need for him has not wained. Her desire remains edied and unchecked. But she stills her heart—her blood. He does not want her anymore. “but you let us die in the process.”
“I need you. I need to hide in the lee of your shadow. I need everything you are, everything you’ve ever promised me. Everything I have ever been. Everything I have ever done. It is meaningless without you.” She is sobbing now, her chest moving with her racking sobs.
“The bear,” she gasps. “He is just a horse. Siberian. He is a good man, tricked. He has…” she hiccups, looking down as her tears stream openly down her face, congregate her nose, before dropping into the snow. “…a daughter. He is a father, just looking for what is best for his family. Like you. He was tricked. By Deimos. I swear to that on my love for you.” She looks up at him again, her tears dissipating as they are replaced by a look that is hard. Foreign.
He saw that what he said wounded her almost physically as she gasped and stepped back. He immediately felt a little safer with that added distance, feeling guilty for it but still safer. Feeling her hurt reflected inside his chest. The pain claimed her face and tears slipped down her lovely face to burn and hiss at the ground.
What? What then!? she demanded, her voice raw with the strength of her emotion. She transformed back into herself, furious and glaring, hurting. When I needed you to believe in me and to trust me most, you LEFT me. Betrayed my trust, left my side, and went to find them.
His lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, a loud and rattling growl filling the space between them as his dark ears melded to his skull. You better not mean that how it sounds, Reagan, he warned low. He would not tolerate being accused of being disloyal. If he buried his attention in anyone, it was the children, especially sweet Fur that still needed his steady guidance as Jinju once had, as Terra once had. He was married, he was mated. He would never do something to threaten that. She should know this, she knew his heart, his past, his life. She should know what it meant to him. What she meant to him.
I CRAVE your trust and affection. And you spread it around to them. Your lady wolves. Our daughters.. Her voice drowned under the sound of his wild roar, throwing her magic violently from his body and becoming his horse again. His wings of ice shot from his sides, thrashing the air in his severe agitation, armor lining the arch of his neck without thought. Blue eyes blazed in fury, his heart burning with rage. He couldn't even speak under the weight of it. Let it burn, let it all burn. No, let it FREEZE.
No!
He fought to hold the pain, clutched it even as it singed him, branded him. The alternative was worse. The Unfeeling was worse. Dangerous. Consuming. It was dark and cruel. It wasn't him. He had to feel, keep feeling. Don't let it go. Don't become the monster.
The pent up frustrations, the building pressure of past hurts yet unresolved were thrust to the fore with a number of new and equally deep sorrows and angers. Everything inside him was firing, exploding, erupting. No amount of his ice could soothe it, no words or touches could bring him down from this. Space, he needed space. He needed distance. Needed to get out until he was safe again. Until they were safe from him again. Don't let it consume him. Don't let it turn him.
He roared again, his front feet slamming into the ground. Neither of those things relieved it, nothing eased the pressure inside him.
So he turned and ran.
And ran.
Until he collapsed, far, far away in some distance place, under the numb of exhaustion and not the numb of his cold-hearted Winter.
But they were safe, and he was too.
