i wish i could cut the line

Tove was still reeling, shaken up by her recent visit with Tamir. She had been okay, stable and keeping steady until now. The plucky facade she'd put on was cracking, crumbling under the daunting weight of her grief and it was poking through the holes, threatening to show her true face. She had become more irritable, more jumpy the last few days and she had been avoiding close contact with anyone else as much as possible, especially Savan and Faust. They could read her too well.

She was certain this would pass, like it had before and as long as she gave enough time for her mask to repair itself, all would be well.

She just had to be patient.

Today, she’d busied herself with organizing her den, tucking away important herbs and making sure she had some fresh lavender in the corner she preferred to slumber. It eased her nerves, the scent comforting. After that had been done, she had begun preparations to winterize what she’d already set up for the pack's inner herbal cache, trying her best to prepare for the cold weather to come.

Eventually, she’d headed off, aimless and uncertain. Her steps were slow and unhurried and she found herself headed towards the valley and near the lake she’d met Tamir at as the skies began to change above, the blues blending into more delicate purples and oranges. It was a sight she’d have appreciated more if her mind wasn’t so dark and hazy. Her gaze was downcast, heavy lidded and she kept her head low, ears flattened against her skull.

Tove was caught off guard when she slowed to a stop, realizing where her steps had taken her. Why had she come back? Here of all places? Her body stiffened, shivering with fear as her eyes found the water, its darkened depths taunting her just as they had before. This time though, she was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

Had the water called her? Was it more powerful than she’d thought? Her mind raced, breaths unsteady and shaky as she stared straight ahead, hazel eyes wide and full of unbridled alarm. The water itself seemed angry today, rippling and splashing against the embankment, begging for her to join. Would it be quick? Would it be like before? Tove gasped aloud as her chest heaved and she fought to catch her breath, her legs buckling. She dropped easily, suddenly wracked with sobs that shook her entire form. She didn’t know what to do.

She had never felt so lost. So weak.

---

@Vahaelarr
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Through the cherry kissed fog that lingered stagnant over the Vale, Vahaelarr's thick form wandered. Through the thick brush and pines that stood resilient through out the valley, the slate masculine ventured, eyes cast to the sunset that warmed the sky. The wolf was out for a late patrol, having found his attempts at sleep fruitless; nightmares walked the path of his mind, plaguing him. Ever since his encounter with his brother, his thoughts had been spoiled. 

A reunion between brothers gone sour. Shame hung like a thick cloak over him. It was bad enough their relationship had already been on the rocks, he had all but signed the ticket of death for what he and Ludon once shared. Perhaps hope for reconciliation was there, but would it ever be the same? His heart constricted. They had been cursed to follow in the footsteps of their father and uncle. 

How could it be? 

The lull of Velaris' trickling river brought Vahaelarr forth, calling him to it's languid embrace. Perhaps a dip into the cool waters would put him at ease. The foliage rustled as he passed through it, and his paws scraped over the ground that gave way from plush grass to rocky soil. He'd almost missed her; the dark form of Tove standing at the bank. The water tried to reach her paws, to woosh across her fur, but she was just out of reach. She watched it, as if caught in a trance. Then, before Vahaelarr could approach her, she had begun to shake and heave. She gasped for air and the wolf wasted no time in rushing to her side, and he was there as she dropped to the cobbled bank. 

"Tove! Skoros iksis hapin?" — Tove! What is happening? His voice, usually so warm, was torn by the concern that he felt for her. All manners had been thrown to the wind and the wolf leaned down, lowering himself to his own stomach, his nose moving to push against her snout that she buried between shaking paws. There was no hiding the tears that streaked down her face. A soft, worried whine pulled from the brute's maw as he moved to push his snout beneath her chin, lifting her head up so that she might breathe better. "Iksā ȳgha. Paghagon." — You are safe. Breathe. 

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She was drowning.

Suffocating and silently screaming for air, for any release. Her lungs felt heavy and full, burning a hole into her chest and it weighed her down as she crumbled into a million pieces. Tove was numb to the scattered rocks that scraped at her skin, her breaths heavy and unsteady with each pull of air into her lungs.

For a moment she wondered if she had stepped into the water, been pulled down into the haunted depths, back to where it all started. Where she was meant to be. Had the Star Mother forsaken her, decided she had been a mistake? Punished her for her wrongdoings, her failures? Tove wouldn’t blame her. This could all have been stopped if she’d used her head, spoken up when it mattered. For all the times she had, why hadn't she this time? Why had she been so pliable, so easily pressured by those who mattered to her? Why had she been so weak?

Her sobs were raw, uncontained and loud as they erupted from her and she shivered, her slender frame cold despite the way her speckled face burned from the hot tears that rolled down her cheeks. Tove buried her face between her paws, shielding herself, eyes squeezed shut as the tears continued to pool. Hiding from the world as she waited till her lungs could take no more.

Words, muffled by the roaring in her ears, made her blink, disoriented and blubbering. She was quick to close them again, welcoming the darkness that engulfed her. Why had someone joined her? Were they being punished as well? Was it all in her head? She couldn’t help but flinch as flesh met hers, a sudden warmth, both familiar and alien, shocking her system. Her head shook and she yanked her snout away from the man’s touch, trembling. She meant to bury it down further, to hide away from him but he would not let her. His touch was gentle but quick, forcing her head upright. Forcing her towards fresh air. “Daor," — No, she croaked in defiance, a broken whisper. Her eyes were still closed. “Nyke. Nyke can’t…p-plea. Kostilus…" — I..I can’t…P-Plea..Please..”

She begged him, her heart aching in her chest. Did he understand? Would he listen? Tove whined, mirroring his own as her eyes slid open. They were slow to find the man beside her, her wet gaze blurry. Vahaelarr. The realization only made her cry harder.

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Something tortured her, something cruel and cold. Nightmares or memories of yore, they punished her -- for what, Vahaelarr couldn't figure out why. He didn't care why. He only cared about the now, the way her sobs racked her whole body, bringing her to shake and tremble in the arms of the arm. His hold on her was finite and he refused to relinquish her, pressing his head beneath hers, whispering nothing but kindness into the fur of her throat. It was a blur, what he said -- if you asked him, he wouldn't be able to recite it for he wasn't listening. 

He only acted. 

Tove pleaded with him, pleaded for something he didn't know. Did she want to be let go? Or was it something else? The wolf wanted desperately to figure it out and yet he couldn't; all he could do was be there for her, and he would be. Until the sun rose and drenched them in the reality of the morning if he had to, he wouldn't leave her side until the tears subsided and she could think clearly once more. "Ao issi oak." — You are okay, Tove. His voice was but a ragged whisper, emotion pooling into his own words; terror and sadness tightened like a cinch around his heart, causing it to collapse within his own chest. He felt nothing but pain to see the Kallista in such a state. Still, there was nothing but sobbing and gasps for air. 

Vahaelarr switched tactics, pulling his head out from beneath her and instead pressing his foreleg beneath her chin, lifting her head up. He forced her to look into his eyes and the wolf searched her pretty hazel ones for something. Nothing was readable beneath the globs of tears that drenched her eyelashes and cheeks. A concerned scowl tugged at his thick brows and pulled his lips into a frown, and he knew not what to do but hug her. His thick, muscled legs pulled Tove into an embrace; paws pressing firm to the back of her neck and her shoulder blades. "Ao jāhor dōrī sagon ared arlī. īlon jāhor mazverdagon sow hen ziry." — Nothing will ever happen to you again. We will make sure of it. We -- him, Faust, Tamir. Whether the men would have him or not, Vahaelarr would protect Tove as fiercely as they did. 

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She couldn't believe that she had been found, let alone by Vahaelarr. She’d much rather have had Savan or even Tamir, who she’d promised no more tears. But again again, nothing ever went according to plan. It made her panic more, the dark gnawing in her chest constricting and filling her lungs with a tightness that made her choke.

It was the second time that he would see her wall crumble, the icy exterior she carried around herself cracking and splitting. This time, it wasn’t with her laughter, joy from a hunt or from the embarrassment of her attraction - no, this was worse. Much, much worse. He was watching firsthand just how broken she was, how damaged she was from her fall.

Vahae used his foreleg to force her head upright and she found it much harder to pull away or burrow her head down then when he had used his snout, nostrils flaring as she fought to accept the air he gave her. She could barely see him as he searched her gaze, her entire body trembling and quaking before him. Her vision was so hazy, distorted by the tears that fell from her eyes and the panic that coursed through every inch of her body. She had never felt so scared, so anxious and it was hard to find her footing on reality. The air itself felt heavy and dark and she felt very very small.

Tove put up no fight when he pulled her into his arms, melting easily into him as she fought to calm down. His touch, the pressure from his paws, brought cracks of light into her darkness. Hope. Fresh air. “Se…iēdar," — The…water she gasped between breaths as she fought to slow her sobs, and fought to join Vahaelarr back in reality. Back on the bank, back to safety. She couldn’t find the words yet, only muttering more about the water and she buried her head into him, using him as her anchor. He was real. She was real. They were both dry. They were both alive.

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