if i could face them, if i could make amends

He dreamt of drowning.

He dreamt of cold water rushing up to meet him, and him meeting it. Someone—something—in the depths below, just out of reach. Dark and green and murky. Shimmering, and iridescent, in the light at the bottom of the pond. Filtered through a layer of ice, first frozen and then thawed then frozen again, over the span of three years.

It was lonely, at the bottom.

Among the sediment and the rock and the reeds.

Fish, foolishly deposited by birds and left to prosper, in the pond. Nowhere else to go. The croak of frogs in the spring and summer.

Water disturbed time and time again.

And his body left undiscovered.

Friends, bitter and confused and angry.

And learning to live with it.

His family, long since forgotten.

By himself, and by them themselves.

And what an awful way, for an ataatatsiaq to reunite with his irngutaq, after so many months—after so many years—apart.

One as a pile of sun-bleached bones, under the tundra sun, and the other waterlogged and sodden, at the bottom of a pond.

And he awoke—

First as a gasp of lungs desperate for air, the water cold and shocking. His reaction unintentional and accidental. Body running on autopilot.

And he awoke—

Slower, this time, on the edges of consciousness, yellow eyes distant and unfocused, to the red furred face of a wolf.

Blue eyes calculating.

Blue eyes searching, for any signs of life.

And his eyes finding none, before pushing him back in.

And he awoke—

On the water’s edge.

Frozen clutches lapping at him.

His fur waterlogged and sodden.

Washed ashore, after all those years.

And he awoke—

For real, this time, on the water’s edge.

His fur and lungs dry.

The air cool and forgiving. The spring’s grass dry and prickling and poking. And the sky clear.

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Heat day 3, she's aware of it now and weary

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After her last encounter, the Empress was now aware of what was happening with her body. The memories of her life before flooding to remind her of what a curse it was during this time of the season could be, how afraid she was of encountering any men until it was over. Cautiously she remained by the women and their side, not wishing to stray too far from them now for a few more days - well, that was until the sight of someone by the lake caught her eye.

They were still. Were they dead? She whined softly, worried for whoever it was. Were they waking up for the first time here? Glancing back at the small group of mostly women, another soft whine slipping her throat until she padded away for a quick little detour from the path they were taking to the mountains in the far North.

At first she was quick to close the distance, only to stop the moment the figure stirred. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she kept her distance just far enough that her gentle voice would need to be strained to speak. “Hello? Are you well?” She was just to check up on him and leave, that was the plan.

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She smelled.

That was the first thing he noticed, upon waking.

And it wasn’t a bad smell. Not exactly. It just also wasn’t a good smell.

No, it was just—

A smell.

Plain and simple.

A kind of smell that was warm and deep. From the body, rather than anything beyond it. Not the smell of flowers, or freshly rolled in grass, or freshly rolled in carrion. No, just the body. And something within it.

His tail wagged.

Slow and apprehensive, on the dead tundra grasses behind him. Warming up, as he pushed himself upright, sitting, rather than laying. His shoulders broad and low, and his head cocked to the side. First, towards the lake, and its frozen miles. And then towards her.

“I think I fell in.” He answered. Into the water. Into the lake. Despite the fact that it remained frozen over, not a single break or dip in sight. Despite the fact that his fur was still dry.

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^^

Fear clutched her as she stood waiting for him to reply. A part of her unwilling to just ignore the gentleman laying on the lake's side, while another wanted nothing to do with him while she had other business to attend to. But what if he was hurt. The soft hearted woman simply couldn't ignore him without making sure he was fine first.

He moved, and like a skittish doe she flinched, ready to spring into action and flee off into the distance, to reunite with the other travelling companions who were not too far away. Thankfully he made no move other than to sit, so she stilled her frantically beating heart.

“I think I fell in.” He said, and worried for frost to take his young life, she took a hesitant step forward to check out his coat. It looks dry from here. “Are you certain?” Tilting her head, she was mildly suspicious of his statement - perhaps it was just her current state of anxiety that made her more cautious and thoughtful of her actions. 

The gentle wave of his tail did help to ease her anxieties just a little. Letting her own plush tail sway in a similar friendly greeting. “The water is frozen and you seem to be quite dry.”

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‘The water is frozen and you seem to be quite dry.’

“Oh.” He answered.

Like he himself had just noticed.

Looking down at himself, and his bone-dry fur. At the fur of his chest, and his front legs. Lifting each front paw, one at a time, as if to check. As if to really make sure that there was no wetness that was hiding.

And she was right.

His fur was dry.

His lungs not wet.

(Or rather, the normal amount of wet.)

“I don’t know, then.” He said. Placing his right front paw back down on the ground. His tail wagging behind him. Looking out onto the lake, for one last time. At the solid expanse of ice, frozen and clear.

“Maybe I imagined it.”

Maybe he dreamt it.

And then—

“I’m Cottongrass.” He said, looking right at her. Yellow eyes bright, and tail wagging.

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^^

Well, he seemed friendly enough, which in turn eased her anxieties as shaky, stressed legs grew relaxed. Less so now did she feel the need to run on a whim as if at any second he would turn into some beast. Now she felt comfortable enough to approach so they may speak more comfortably than somewhat yelling at one another through a certain distance.

Gingerly she approached, head down, ears back in a shy approach. She was still apprehensive but much less so than before. “Perhaps it was a nightmare?” It was possible, especially if his was the first time he was waking up here - he didn't seem to be as confused as others other than a possible nightmare sending him on some kind of mental trip. “You are safe now.” She spoke as if she was here to keep the horrible dreams at bay.

“Reiko, it is a pleasure to meet you Cottongrass.” Her own tail happily swayed, faster than before as his own kept batting away. “Are you from here?” She was certain what his answer would be, but opted to ask anyway should he be one of the few rare, elusive natives she has yet to find.

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He watched as she approached.

Her smell growing stronger, with each step. His tail still wagging behind him, rustling, in the dead spring grass. Her ears were held low, and he held himself low too, in response. Subconscious, as he dropped his head down between his shoulders. Neck craned as he reached out, to scent the air closer towards her.

‘Perhaps it was a nightmare?’ She said.

And—

He didn’t know if it was a nightmare.

He didn’t know if it was a dream.

He didn’t usually remember them. He didn’t usually have them.

But—

Maybe.

(A dream—a nightmare—of a shallow, watery grave. Passed upon, time and time again. And yet never found. Never disturbed, at the bottom, among the sediment, among the fish, among the reeds.)

He shook his head.

Smiled, at her, at her words, of, ‘You are safe now.’ Goofy and boyish, with his head held low.

And she—Reiko—asked if he was from here.

Where was here? He thought to ask, big head turning and yellow eyes squinting, as he looked around. Looked for something that would tell him where he was. Seeing nothing but tundra expanse. Low, rolling hills and low hanging brush and still dead grass. Like home, but not.

He looked back at her.

“No.” He shook his head. “Are you from here?”

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^^

As the young man mimicked her and shrinking down to try and meet her height, she only grew more confident and comfortable around him. Though cautious still, her fear was far less if almost non-existent now especially when compared to the skittish deer she just was moments ago. After all, he gave her no reason to be worried, to leave herself so tightly guarded as she was before upon first approaching his still, slumbering body.

He was still so young too, certainly the same fever the other man had wasn't quite present in this one yet. 

Only mild disappointment settled onto her features, briefly stealing her smile away. “” A sigh as she shook her head regretfully. “Neither am I, and I am starting to doubt we will ever find a local born.” After spending months here she had still yet to meet anyone who called this place home since birth, who wasn't lost and confused about their sudden appearance here. Nor had she heard that a friend of a friend had met a local neither. 
 
“I wish I had more to offer than the same questions you may have.” Sheepishly she offered a smile again, hopefully knowing he was not alone in his confusion would be enough to ease any worry within him.

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‘I wish I had more to offer than the same questions you may have.’

She said—

And Cottongrass shrugged.

Broad shoulders, rising and falling.

He always had questions.

Always.

Questions that so rarely had questions, so what was a few more added to the pile. The mountain of who, and why, and what, and where, and how forever growing, in the back of his mind.

He just smiled. Black lips quirked up at the corners, jaws parted, open-mouthed, and his tail still wagging away.

“What, what kind of questions, do you have?” He asked.

Maybe they shared some of the questions.

Maybe they didn’t.

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^^

At least he didn't seem upset about it. A thought that let a giggle slip through her pale lips - it reminded her of how casual Aerasha was too. How relaxed the woman was with just about everything. It was a contagious feeling as she let all her own anxieties just slip away.

Oh dear but what questions does she not have was a better question. “Umm well, the main one would be how did we get here.” She pondered them over, eyes rolling toward the sky as if she could find her thoughts there. “Why did I wake up alone and not with my family?” Why was Hotaru found so far from the North while Haruki was still nowhere to be found?

“Also why?” Turning to him again as if he had the answers for her, blinking a few times with wide eyes as if pleading for something. “Why here?”

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The floodgates opened, metaphorical, as she began to speak—

And he couldn’t—

He couldn’t remember who he was supposed to wake up with. He couldn’t remember who he was supposed to fall asleep with.

The edges of a memory—of memories—fading fast. The outline there but the middle gone. Bones left behind but the flesh rendered down. Fat and lipids soaking into the ground. Muscle and meat picked and stolen.

“Maybe,” he started, stuttered, “Maybe you got separated from them. And you just, you just don’t remember.”

It happened.

It happened.

It had happened to him, time and time again.

“Like, like a snowstorm, or a thunderstorm, or a, a break in the ice, or a distraction—"

The memory of a childhood den and his ataatatsiaq’s back at the entrance as the storm howled and raged on beyond. And finding him, come the winter’s thaw, and leaving him, there, after all those months of searching. The memory of a wolf, of two wolves, both dark and stoic and brown, one with eyes like the moon and the other with the eyes of a sun, that had left him, found him, and were left in return. Or the memory of someone not quite wolf, more coyote and dog than wolf, neither man nor woman but loved, and how he had left her, too, in the end.

(And maybe the reoccurring pattern was him, in all those scenarios. The betrayer. The leaver. The abandoner.)

‘Also why?’

Thoughts, interrupted by her.

‘Why here?’

He looked at her.

Cocked his head to the side, his yellow eyes wide and owlish, and—

“Why not here?” He asked. Plain and simple and contrarian.

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^^

He tried to comfort her in some way, at least that is how it seemed to be. Even if it didn't help all too much to dig her out of that self-pity pit she had now dug herself into while talking about it all. “” She paused, feeling the heaviness in her chest. She need to sit, fighting the urge to want to lay down and let the snow bury her again. “Does that not make me an awful mother?”

Especially as he said something like a distraction could have torn her away from them. Her being distracted is the cause for Hotaru's wound and Haruki still missing. To think it was all her fault - but then again, how could it not be her fault? As their guardian, it was certainly not theirs.

But why not here? Wasn't it an obvious answer to that one? “Because this is not home?” She almost questioned her own answer, as if she was asking him if it was the right one to say with an inquisitive twist of her head. As if this younger man could ever have all the answers for her that she sought, how unfair it was for her to even think of it. 

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“Oh.” He answered.

Just—

Oh.

At this place not being home, and that mattering. Meaning something to her in a way that meant nothing to him. About her being an awful mother. And he—

And he didn’t know anything about either of those things. He didn’t know what home was, or what it meant to her. Home to him had always just been himself, and his four paws, wherever he laid, wherever he slept, a feeling rather than place, whenever he was with friends. And he didn’t he didn’t think he knew any mothers.

None beyond his own.

And she wasn’t—

She wasn’t bad.

She was good.

She was his mom.

And she was better than he could ever be.

(It was why she was always so angry and upset, he was sure. She was good and right and, and he was just himself.)

But he felt—

He felt she—Reiko—was different than his mom. Not… Not a good or bad different, in any which way, but just… Different.

And that meant something to him.

“I don’t,” he started, stuttered, his ears pressed back against his head and his eyes looking anywhere but at her, his paws suddenly itchy and uncomfortable in the dry, poking grass, “I don’t think you’re an awful mother.”

No, “You’re just—a mom.”

Right?

“And, and they make mistakes. And things happen. Things, things you can’t control. That no one can control.” Like blizzards, and snowstorms, and the qalupalik, and an ataatatsiaq that was as much as a parent as he was a child, some days, and—

“And that’s okay.” He said. Finally able to meet her eyes.

“It’s okay.” He repeated, his head held low, his ears angled forward, and his tail still, in the grass behind him.

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^^

Everything felt heavy - more so than usual even if this was a burden she was carrying for a while now. Perhaps it was the hormones that simply tossed her into an abyss, easily distressed by the smallest triggers when normally it was easier to handle than this.

How heavy it all felt weighing down on her back and chest, she wanted to cry. She wanted to vomit. Yet nothing came.

She was doing her best wasn't she?

Scouting the farthest reaches beyond the mountains and back, telling everyone and asking everyone to assist in their search. What else could she do? She had found one and had to keep her safe, find a safe place to rest before heading out to find the other. 

Was there anything else she could have done? 

And he spoke. Snapping her out of her thoughts and a couple of ugly tears rolled down her cheek. Half with grief, half with relief at his words, his form of comforting words. She was just a mom, as simple as it sounded, he was right. “Thank you.” A whisper was all she could muster through a hiccup. An awkward smile wiggling its way through her frown as she met his eyes again.
 
“I come to see if you are okay and here you are comforting me.” It nearly took everything for her to not burst out laughing at the thought. “You are very kind and very wise Cottongrass - thank you.”

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“Thank you.” He said.

His rear end now wiggling—squirming—in the grass, and his tail wagging, thumping away, behind him. His smile goofy and sweet, with his black lips quirked back and his jaw parted, pink tongue lolling out.

It was so rare, for anyone to call him kind.

It was so rare, for anyone to call him wise.

And for her to say it—

It must have been true.

“Thank you, ajak — auntie.” He repeated, reaching out to gently brush her muzzle with his, and a single front paw playfully raised.

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^^

The tough within him was found once more as he wiggled happily to her compliment. She laughed in response, brushing away the previous fears and tears and finding a feeling of relaxation overcome her soul once more.

The soft pats of her own tail batting against the dry and dying grass of the tundra as it bounced happily.

With a large smile across her maw, eyes wincing with her cheeks pushing up against them as the two nuzzled for a moment. There was no idea what he called her but judging by the tone he chose, it was only something good. 

^^

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end! <3

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