Ψ · Written in the Stars

@Florence and @Flynn if interested! Timed the morning they left.

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 She was absolutely brimming with anxiety. Each step she took was slightly shaky, each noise of the forest caught her eye - gaze flashing from each slight motion of a leaf falling or a deer in the distance. Her breath was slightly shaky, even though Flynn (and the sleeping child atop his shoulders) was near and she felt comforted by his presence.

 Rosemary and Tavra had already left the night before, heading this direction if her nose told her right.

 Her tongue flipped up and over her lips, a nervous quip of hers. She knew she should be acting normally, as if they were hiding nothing, but Meissa was not accustomed to lying and so she could not help but leave her heart on her sleeve for the whole world to see.

 She just hoped nobody would try to stop them.

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Florence noticed, of course he did. They'd been acting suspicious. Perhaps the woman did not notice he watched - Florence did. He watched everything. He took no note of it until the woman started moving closer and closer to the borders. Florence decided to investigate. One of the few things he's good at. So he followed her - she could notice him, Florence isn't being particularly sneaky, but still. He at least has to figure out what's going on.

"Meissa." He calls out to her. "Where are you going?" He says that one in a higher tone, innocent. "Did something happen?"

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 Someone saw her.

 Of course someone would see her. She was massive, blocky, and each step she took sounded like a giant tripping down a hill. Not like Flynn, who could walk silently with his long, elegant legs. She turned, swallowing, and saw someone she hadn't actually spoken to in several months. Another man, one who saw his own markings as a sort of mutation. Black, disliked by the queen but not as despised as white.

 “Ho, Florence,” she said after taking a deep breath. “Nowhere, just, um, out -” A failure at a lie she knew instantly was obvious as anything. Her ears pinned back and she fretted, glancing towards the border and then back at him. Then, she moved towards him so her voice could be low enough for him to hear.

 The floodgates opened.

 “I can't stay. Can't... can't be here to raise pups that might be hated for the colour of their coat for some backwards religion that says we're cursed simply for being born different,” She shook her head. “I can handle it myself but, but I can't put that sort of thing on any potential future kids who are bound to be white!” She caught her tongue before she raised her voice any louder than it had been growing. Her voice was hushed again, “I can't - I just can't, Florence.”

 “We're going somewhere nobody's going to tell us we're cursed just for being us.”

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She spits out a lie so easy to see he's sure the stupidest could tell. She has every right to not tell him where she's going, and Florence nearly tells her so - he can't pull rank on anyone, and if he could he probably wouldn't. It's none of his business where the woman goes at night in her free time, like no one asks Florence where he goes himself, even if it isn't to somewhere suspicious. Not that any of them suspect him of doing anything, since he hasn't done anything that needs suspicion.

Meissa's outburst catches him very off guard. Like, to the point of him standing there wide-eyed for a moment. He grits his teeth and forces himself to regain composure, hoping she didn't notice that in her panicked state. Florence admittedly asked nothing of Celnes' religion, even as she mentioned it to him when he asked to join Elkshire. Born white... Florence sees nothing wrong with it, though, admittedly, there is a lot of brown mingling with the group. Something Florence has noticed, but thought nothing of. He's not seen any suspicious behavior from Celnes herself, not that he could remember but... Meissa is closer to the woman than he is. Florence keeps his distance from just about everyone, really.

"You're having children?" Is the first thing he asks because he can't keep his mouth to himself. "Why would they be cursed?" Is the next one, because he's genuinely confused about what's going on.

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 She could tell he hated her - who wouldn't? She'd just lied straight to his face and that was just not okay. But... he didn't snarl? Didn't scoff? Maybe she was just reacting, projecting Tavra even onto this man, she didn't know.

 He seemed... confused?

 She blinked at him.

 Then shook her head when he asked if she was having children. “Not yet, but I'm with Flynn now and the two of us plan on, in the future -” She swallowed. She was certain Florence knew Flynn, the pale boy who shared white atop his shoulders even as hers was draped across her back.

 His next question caught her off guard.

 “Be...cause they'll have white on them for sure. To the Deorwines, white is cursed. Full white, irredeemable...” She was baffled, staring at him. Did he not know? He didn't have the excuse of blindness to avoid knowing an integral part of the pack's beliefs. Even she had picked it up after a time of not knowing, somehow deciding to stay because she thought that maybe she was getting through to Celnes by having white and working hard.

 She'd lost hope of that.

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In the future - When did she get with Flynn? For someone who lives in Elkshire he's really out of the loop somehow. Whatever - it's not something he needs to think about anyway. The white thing, though, Florence was not aware of. The favor for brown, yes, that's clear if anyone takes one look at the pack's lineup. Still he didn't think it lead to anything harmful. Clearly he's not done enough recon. Or he ignored most of it, honestly it could be a mix of both.

Now, Florence likes to be mean on purpose sometimes - he really does, it's like his thing. He can't for the life of him think of a 'funny' comeback for this.

"Where are you leaving to? Is anyone else going?"

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 He seemed to be thinking pretty intensely on this new information, however new it was. It seemed new to him, anyway. She let her claws dig into the earth a little bit, licking her lips again as she waited for the reaction.

 More questions came this time and she chewed on her teeth, thinking for a moment. Well. They were already on their way out, if Florence sounded the alarm and told the queen, they were already going to be long gone before she got to them. “Somewhere outside of Elkshire's reach,” she said, hoping it was true. She didn't exactly want to tell an Elkshire wolf their exact plans if he was going to tell on them. “Tavra and Rosemary ran on ahead to scout, then it's Flynn, Archon, and myself.”

 She hoped she - and they - weren't making a huge mistake.

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She's withholding information from him. Florence realizes it quickly enough, Elkshire's scent is caked so thickly on his pelt that he must smell like he's an integral part of their group. Meissa is the same though, and for all he knows she could be lying about this. It's unlikely, but Florence has seen some amazing sweet-talkers in his life. Though Meissa.... Doesn't exactly fall under that category. She could be worried for other reasons too. Putting her future family - and her new group - in danger by telling someone who'll tell Celnes. It's an easy conclusion to make, but one he did not expect her to think. Especially since Florence has gone out of his way to speak to her - not in passing - all of four times. She did give him at least a somewhat working answer, even if it leads him to believe she has no idea what she's doing. Still, Florence is curious about how this will play out. 

"Do you need a healer? Someone who's proficient in poison?" Rosmary is a healer, but he's surprised the wolf has gone out to scout, being completely blind and all. Florence would be a weird one to scout, too, if he needed to - half blind. But if the group needs some silent protection... Florence is the wolf for it. 

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 Her nerves got the best of her and honestly, she was surprised when he seemed interested in, what, joining them? Her eyes widened and she looked at him in awe for a moment before swallowing and giving a small laugh. “Honestly, we can use all the help we can get.” She knew nothing about healing and she doubted Flynn did either. Rosemary was excellent but his blindness put them at a disadvantage, as unfortunate as it was.

 Having to sniff out injuries could be the difference between saving a life and not.

 She looked out, back into the woods, then back at the man. It wasn't that she didn't trust him but she knew what wolves were capable of, knew what Elkshire could be capable of. If it wasn't clear by her irrational fear that they would take her tail to make her appear less cursed, she was a ball of anxiety and trust issues. “They may not come after us immediately but I have no doubt we'll be marked as traitors, especially so soon after the royal litter's birth.” She looked mournful, a note of true sadness in her voice.

 Honestly, she had wanted to befriend Celnes. They had been growing closer, having more chats, and she truly enjoyed them - when they weren't full of lies about curses and hooved gods. Knowing Flynn's estrangement from the queen and the fact that it likely would put all of their future plans on hold if not ban them completely, she knew that it was inevitable. Perhaps it had been inevitable from the start. “There's no going back from this, Florence.”

 If they were to fail, to be separated - they would need to find new homes far from the Temperate.

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---

“Luckily, going back is off my agenda.” Speaking with amusement, a gingerly placed smile upon his face; he would appear. The pale prince himself was never too far behind that of his lover, even with curly fur adrift due to lack of slumber. He stood idly by, the child atop his shoulders snoring yet pleasantly unaware of the silent noise clouding their once-home. Though, it was still a home for Florence, was it not?

Mossy optics batted softly, the sigh leaving his throat nothing but a sweet goodbye to the place he'd never loved. He wondered if the calico male before them felt any sort of apprehension in staying. As it was clear the interaction between them was slowly becoming a saving-grace. “Healer or not, if you'd like to join us and leave the wreckage behind, you are welcome.” Nodding, he would conclude, “You shouldn't be made to feel any less worthy of love and appreciation simply due to the colour of your fur.”

—

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Sure, every group would need all the help they could get. Even groups with healers already have brought him in before, this is no different. Though there is a large difference between his time in the Dominion, and this. Florence and Rosemary could teach some of the other members too, just in case someone got seperated or caught by Elkshire - or The Nightwalkers, that alliance is one that is dangerous. Meissa's panicked looking around almost has him amused. Florence probably wouldn't be able to overpower her in a fight unless he caught her very off guard.

Florence nearly forgot Celnes had her kids - he didn't take his time to visit them. He left the making sure they were healthy to Rosemary, that kind of thing isn't within Florence's skills. He's bad with kids anyway, and probably wouldn't interact with them unless they went out of their way to find him themselves. Before he could scoff in her general direction, Florence's head did a turn when the man in question showed. Flynn - the one Meissa's decided to get with. He doesn't really care about their relationship, but both of them are definitely eye-candy material.

"I'm not so stupid to think everything would be perfect." He did scoff then - true colors and all that - but the pack definitely thinks he's weak. He wants to make a comment about there being no love regardless, but he's not going to drag things out longer than they have to be. "I offered to join, and that is that."

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 The woman's relief was palpable at the sight of her beau. She did not go to him though she longed to - this was no time for seeking comfort. They needed to move, needed to get going. Her anxiety left her at the ready, watching for an ambush that she logically knew would not come. They were moving swiftly, almost too swiftly, and she regretted not being able to apologize to some wolves before they fled.

 She had many regrets and would need to deal with them in time.

 “Then,” she said, offering a smile to both men before her. “We should get going. We can tell you what we know once we're a safe distance. The trees have ears, as they say.” Not literally, obviously, but there was a point to be made: Even if they had not noticed them, if there were wolves watching them, they would need to make haste and speak little of their plans until they were sure no one was listening.

 She turned to Florence, “Thank you, it will be good to have you,” and then she moved, nodding for the other two to come walk with her towards the border.

 To their escape.

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Exit

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