A Shattered Heart as Sharp as Glass

[☼ Sunstorm]

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[atrb=background,http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac192/fireb4ashes/Annie-Rose-Petal---BOTTOM.png] How could such a world exist? The world was going on. Why didn't it stop in its tracks? Such a cruel world it was, going on like this. The wind still stirred the long grasses, the graceful butterflies rose above the stalks and played when the need struck them. There was the wide open sky overhead, just as it had been before. My eyes looked up at the sky, unfocused, as I remembered how beautiful it had been. Nothing had changed since then, but now it seemed bleak to me. Where one lives and the other passes? What right did anyone have on these lands? I had been told that I was safe here. No one would dare come into these lands and commit crime, not when this pack was pure and kind. War was such an abstract term to me; it was as if I had been secure in a bubble of a world. Without any given warning, that safe and secure pocket of a world was shredded. The pocket no longer existed, it had been ripped apart by angry claws and strewn about the ground, just like.... Why am I still here? My eyes squeezed shut as a violent shudder ripped through my frail body. I gasped as it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest, and I struggled to breathe, though it seemed to me as if my lungs were closing up from grief. I couldn't stand a world without them, without the loving care they had provided me, the gentle guiding words and the hugs that made me feel like I was worth something. Both of them had replaced the low self-esteem I had, had made me feel like I was meant to be in this world. And now.... It's all my fault, and I can't take this Now I knew I was nothing. If I had not been here, both of those wolves would be alive right now. They would be able to enjoy this late summer day, would be able to take in the deep breaths and smell the flowers that had bloomed in the field. It was such a lovely scent, but as I managed to inhale to fill my grief-stricken lungs, I was revolted by it. They should be here right now. Yet they were not, and here I was, still breathing, still able to move able, still able to do everything that this world offered me....just without them. Excuse me, but would it be appropriate if I simply screamed right now?' I had been laying on my back for hours, simply staring at the sky. Ocassionally these waves of agonizing grief would slam into me like a charging buffalo and I'd turn over to tear at the ground, as if by doing so I'd be bringing them back. I was desperately hoping that this was nothing more than a dream; that I'd wake up in the next instant and I'd be curled next to my mother's side, inhaling her sunshine scent. I would look up to see my father entering the den, a smile upon his face and a lightness within his step. I waited now, my eyes clenched shut as if my life depended on it--and it did. My entire life depended on waking up. If I didn't, then I would stay shattered. My heart had so many slices in it, such sharp edges that tore at me whenever I tried to pull myself together. And so I will lay here in pieces.... I don't know how long I lay there. I don't know how long the pieces were strewn across the ground, unable to pull myself together to brood for another stretch of time. Finally my staggered breaths and my loud whimpers softened, though the tears still flowed down my face. I forced myself to be quiet, though that effect was ruined as I suddenly started hicupping. I lay on my side, curling myself up into a ball. I tried to physically pull myself closer in, as if that would help repair my shattered soul. I wasn't certain that it was working. While the rest of the world goes on.... I would not even think it, but it was inevitable. I was now an orphan. An evil soul had disregarded the clear boundary lines, and he set his sights on me. I was supposed to be dead right now. Yet he killed both of my parents, their blood spilling into the crystal clear lake while I ran. I was still alive. And somehow I was supposed to live with that. And as I think all of this, I hope you will hear me when I think I love you ooc:// This thread is open! Just so people know: there is currently a thread going right now in which Theravada and Stark are being killed. Both are Annie's parents. So I used liquid time because I wanted to play Annie! (:

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn15/stephers1995/Aneirin---MIDDLE.png] Aneirin still had the taste and smell of arnica blossoming in his muzzle when his peaceful reverie was shattered by the sight of the struggling figure on the ground. He felt the taste, sharp, astringent, slightly floral, go bitter, stinging the back of his tongue, and his eyes watered. Not only for the taste--also because this was a wolf clearly in trouble. She had been lying still, staring at the sky, when he first came close enough for her to enter his vision; another wolf might have assumed she was a daydreaming pup, but something was clearly WRONG to the sensitive healer-to-be. When she suddenly turned and began tearing, biting, and clawing at the grass beside her in a frenzy, his first thought was "seizure!" and he broke into the swiftest lope his big body could manage, running possible herbs through his head, but first planning to make sure her airways were free. But then she stopped. He drew closer, thick gray fur shimmering slightly and bouncing with his steps as he slowed down. She was clearly still alive--no, this wasn't a physical problem. He watched her repeat the process again and again as he continued his steady lope towards her, ears flicking back in pain as her heard her labored breathing, the tiny whimpers she was probably unaware of even making. A huge wave of empathy and pity washed over him; what would bring this sort of wracking grief to a pup? Why was she alone? Wait...pup? Aneirin was close enough now that his shadow almost touched her, stepping on vast, surprisingly silent pads while she lay, gazing up blankly at the sky again. That face, the longer, thinner limbs, and most of all the look in her eyes--no, whatever else she might be, whatever had happened to her, this was no pup. Still young, though, still so alone. The big gray wolf yearned to wrap himself around her, instinctively, use his bulk and soft fur as a shield against the pain--but a strange male wolf walking up from nowhere and cuddling up against her probably wouldn't help. The young female hiccuped, a heart-breakingly fragile sound, and curled in to a ball, her wet, tear-stained face turned towards Aneirin, though her eyes, swollen from weeping, didn't seem to see him yet. He watched her for a moment still; that position said so much, about vulnerability; he could feel her sense of loss, of being lost, of helplessness, almost radiating off her, nearly knocking him over despite her tiny physical size. He took a few more steps forward, the sound of his paws in the long grasses reminiscent of a body lying down to sleep; restful, rustling, minute. Aneirin lowered his head so that his broad muzzle and wide skull were close to hers, attempting to reach her eyes with his serene blues. His eyebrows, slightly lighter than the gray of his back, furrowed and lifted in concern, but not transforming the look of meditative calm he almost always wore. "Young one." His voice was deep, quiet, smooth, expressive as his glance. He barely spoke over a whisper. "I'm Aneirin. Don't grieve alone."

[☼ Sunstorm]

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[atrb=background,http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac192/fireb4ashes/Annie-Rose-Petal---BOTTOM.png] Grief is the price we pay for love ~Elizabeth II Emotions were continuing to pour through me throughout this day, and I felt as if I had no room for all of it. Love for the ones who had cared for me was swelling up in my chest, but that love had a companion whose name was grief. Both of these things were residing within my body, overwhelming my nervous system even more than it already was, what with all of strange jerking I normally did. I hardly took any note of my surroundings or what my body was doing when I tore angrily at the stalks of grass; my eyes were unfocused, meaning I was gone. Far inside my mind, in the horrid world that I now had to live with. I did not know when the stranger arrived. I may have even been looking directly at his for long minutes, or hours even, but I had no idea until his shadow fell upon me. That was when I vaguely looked up, still not quite aware that another was here with me. When you are stuck in the middle of a tidelwave of grief, there is hardly anything rational about the world. I struggled to focus my eyes, but when I halfway succeeded, I was terrified by what I 'saw'. I did not see the kind features on the gentle beast's face. Due to a lack of social interaction, I knew very few in this pack, so I had no idea that this stranger belonged to the same group as I. Due to a growing terror within me, I did not recognize that his words were kind and comforting. If I had not been irrational with this grief, I would not have paniced like I did. So instead I just saw Zero's white features in my mind's eye, and I cringed away from this stranger. I ducked my muzzle between my forelegs, screeching all the while, "No! Leave Mama alone!" While my forelegs worked to cover my face from this creature, my hind legs scrabbled uselessly at the ground, as if I could run from him like I had run from Zero. Even if I could managed to pick myself up, however, there was no way I could run anywhere. I had overexterted myself yesterday, or whatever day it had been when I'd run for my life. It was a wonder I could move now, as sore as I was. As I cried out in terror, I was reliving the memory with such a force, harder than it had been before. I had been alone up until now, and just seeing another large creature seemed to terrify me. If I peeked up again I would return to my senses, for I would be able to see the silvers of his fur and the ice blue eyes rather than the scarlet eyes standing against a white coat. I would be able to see that his chest was unscarred, not carrying the frightening trisket. If I inhaled, I would scent the soothing smell of flowers and herbs, the scent that set us Enchanted wolves apart. As my eyes were squeezed shut, however, I could see it all over again. I could see Mama and I backing until our hind paws touched the still water. I could see Zero spitting in Vada's face, his mouth slavering. I could hear his harsh words, saying that I had no right to live and that someone would pay for it. And then Mama telling me to run away, as fast as I could....I'd taken one split second to glance over my shoulder, and I'd seen Zero fling himself at her relatively frail body as the first blood was spilled into the once-beautiful lake. That lake was now disguisting to me. I could not bring myself to look up, though. I felt 'safe' with my eyes sealed, my nose pressed down into the earth, and I just prayed that Zero would go away. Little did I know that I was acting insane, and that this was a wolf far from Zero. I was simply revealing that I was a shattered soul.... ooc:// If he just talks to her, she'll calm down. (:

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn15/stephers1995/Aneirin---MIDDLE.png] Aneirin smiled, hopefully, tentatively, as the young little she-wolf opened her eyes, but his heart quickly sank--there was no recognition in them. Something very wrong was happening in this girl's head, some strange enacting of visions. He took in a deep, nervous breath, preparing for the breaking of the storm, trying to muster his thoughts. "No!" Her voice came out shrill and tortured right before she ducked her head between her paws, desperately trying to hide her whole being from him, this invading stranger. Despite his attempt at preparing himself, he startled, head jerking back on his thick neck, rearing slightly so that his front paws briefly left the ground before landing again. "Leave Mama alone!" Ah. The pieces began falling into place. Alone, alone, yes...this young thing alone, and some memory rolling around in her mind in which her mother was in danger. It was as if he could hear the story being told in her shrieks, or rather painted. He felt his heart rate pick up, drumming horribly with misery, and fear in his knowledge. Voice a little choked, but still quiet, deep and rumbly, he said "I won't hurt your mama. We haven't met but I'm sure--" He had been about to say "she IS," but he was fairly certain by now of at least this part of the puzzle. "I'm sure she was a wonderful femme." The little girl was kicking frantically with her hind legs now, trying to run away, while trying to hide from him. Of course she was. What else could be more perfect? To flee from her troubles, and to vanish completely from the world. "Grace, grace, breathe little grace!" His brows were now a deeply furrowed knot between and above his melting eyes, watching the weakened creature struggle. Something about her movements caught his eye--he looked closer at her hind legs, even bringing his muzzle in, sniffing at the top of the joint where he'd be less likely to be on the receiving end of a clawed kick. A few thumped into his chest anyway. He snuffled and whuffled very delicately, assessing and soothing at the same time with a broad, bewhiskered muzzle and damp nose. She was clearly exhausted from some great physical effort, but he sensed a tiny trembling beneath that of fatigue, an electricity running through all the nerves. Herbs began running through his head, a programmed litany: Chamomile, passionflower, purple skullcap, lady's slipper, the spiraling magenta curls of wood betony; perhaps evening primrose at night, all pale and fluttering. But for later, for later. He pulled back, hesitating, afraid of sending her into a deeper shock, but instinct pushed him, and the simple inability in his soul to leave her as she was. Moving fairly swiftly--after all, she couldn't see him with her paws over her eyes--he stuck out one paw, placing it gently but firmly on the side of her ribcage, close to her heart. He let the soft weight settle, feeling the frantic beating vibrate up into his paw pads. More gradually, he lowered his huge head down as well, carefully balancing so that only his shadow fell over her. Neck craned down, he touched his muzzle to the top of her head, breathing warm, herb-scented breath over her fur. "Just breathe, graceling. All we can do is keep breathing." ((OOC: So, I wanted to give him a nickname for her, and I looked up the origins of Hannah (as the origin of Anna as the origin of Annie) and came up with Grace. Which is why I decided he should call her that. :P ))

[☼ Sunstorm]

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[atrb=background,http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac192/fireb4ashes/Annie-Rose-Petal---BOTTOM.png] Why must he bother me again? Here, even further within the beautiful lands of Enchanted! How could blood ever be spilt here, too? Such a thing should not be possible, not in the world that I lived in, and it should not be possible for him to return to torment me while I wallowed in this grief. Yet he was here again, and I just could not stand it. In the brief breaks of my shrieks that sliced through the air, I heard his voice. It sounded different in a certain instance, much more mellow than I had previously thought...But after forcing air to surge out of my lungs, it was all I could do to even inhale again, much less listen to what he had to say. My writhing motions were becoming more jerky now rather than fluid, and that had to do with the fact that my strength was failing. I'd kick out, pause, kick out, pause. All the while I struggled to fill my lungs with oxygen. 'Grace, grace, breathe little grace!' My screams had fallen now, nothing more than terrified, senseless whimpers. My mouth parted as I struggled to breathe, and I was able to get in a few breaths in between the hiccups that decided to come back. I just wanted to curl up in a ball as all of this pain crashed into me; the emotional pain of thinking I might die and knowing my parents did, and the physical pain of my beyond sore limbs. I didn't know how much more I could deal with. "I-I c-c-can't! I'm tr-tr-trying!" At the same time as I struggled to breathe properly, I vaguely noted that he called me something strange, and it was this that brought me round. My name was not Grace...It never had been. Always had I been some variation of Annie, whether it be Ann, Anna, or Little Annie....But never Grace, and I knew that Zero knew what my name was. This did not make any sense. My movements started to be restricted at this point. First I felt only a nose by my upper hind leg, where the skin of my leg met my underbelly. Following this, there was a pressure on my chest, a pressure directed over my pounding heart, and the pressure seemed to grow over time. My eyes flashed open, the organs stretched wide with fear as I felt warm breathing stir the short fur atop my head. He was so close?! I found out, though, as my forepaws fell away from my eyes that this was not Zero. I could not see his full profile, but the section of foreleg that was presented to me as well as parts of his underbelly told me one thing: this was not Zero. I was a wonderful observer, and I remember quite clearly that Zero had a stark white coat. This coat had a shade to it; what Mother had called gray. That's what I was limited to: white, gray, and black. It might not have been his true coloring but that was his coloring to me. 'Just breathe, graceling. All we can do is keep breathing.' As soon as my ears became 'open'--as in I was able to listen and process what was being said--I knew for sure that this was not him. My entire body became absent with tension, going limp as I winced with the relief and pain in my throbbing muscles. "My name...." Gasp for air. "Is Annie." A shudder racked my body, probably a result of my strange shaking disease. "Not..." Another gasp. "Grace." My voice had been breaking on all of these words, but there seemed to me an edge on Grace. I closed my eyes again, dealing with another wave of grief. I didn't want to explain to this guy what had happened, but I was uncertain as to whether or not I wanted him here. Did I want company or not? This just added to the loads of uncertainty I now faced in my life. ooc:// I'm actually really fond of that name, and it fits quite well on her. That'll be her new nickname now! :DD

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn15/stephers1995/Aneirin---MIDDLE.png] Aneirin was stretching every single fiber of his mind, straining as if he could physically connect his awareness to that of this young girl's. He closed his eyes tight, envisioning that connection through the points their bodies touched, at his paw on her chest and muzzle on her head, and tried to take in all he could about her state. He listened intently as her shrieking and crying subsided, though at first she seemed no better off; her whole body was wracked with shaking, wrenching, as if her physical self was revolting against her mental reality. Then there came a change--some time after he spoke, she finally opened her eyes in seeming confusion, then went limp at last, a sad bundle on the ground, ribs heaving through her mottled russet fur. If she still wanted to know who he was, she didn't show it; her sheer relief and exhaustion seemed to overwhelm any native curiosity. At last, she spoke between gasps of air. "My name..." Another ragged intake of precious breath. "Is Annie." Her frail form shuddered on the ground again, and Aneirin adjusted himself, taking his paw off her chest now that her heart had slowed. "Not...Grace." He smiled, touched and impressed by her fairly cool retort in such a situation, and in such a state. My apologies, Annie. But I had to call you something, so I went with the first name that came to mind, graceling." He smiled again at the last word, warmly, hoping to bring some desire for life back into this young wolf--though she'd certainly fought hard enough for it earlier. The slight bruising twinges on his chest reminded him of that. "My name is Aneirin. You might have missed that earlier." His tone was comforting, not at all mocking, simply remarking on and accepting her earlier behavior, embracing it as normal, though he didn't know yet what had caused it. The big wolf lay down beside her, relaxing his legs; the grass around him bent softly beneath his weight. He moved his head now, too, so that he could look her in the eye. Within the gentle blue-green were striations on the iris, like valleys and ridges on the sea floor. He pondered now, truly on the edge for the first time in a while. What if he pushed this Annie too fast? He didn't want to lose the ground he'd finally gained. For a time he simply lay next to her, touching slightly side to side, letting his thick-furred bulk warm her. He turned his eyes aside to watch the waving grasses a few feet away, meditative, hoping that mood might transfer a little bit to her. Then he looked back. "We can be quiet for as long as you want. But when you're ready, I'd like to hear whatever you need to tell me."

[☼ Sunstorm]

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[atrb=background,http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac192/fireb4ashes/Annie-Rose-Petal---BOTTOM.png] I could move again when he lifted his paw from my chest, and my first instinct was to roll onto my side, curling into a ball once more in order to hold the pieces together. When I had thought he was Zero, my heart had cracked along another line, in fear and grief for my own life being taken. Now that I realized that I was in no such danger, and that I was even safer than before now that....Well, I didn't know his name, but now that he was here. This extra fracture in my chest had been unnecassary, and now I had to deal with that. 'My apologies, Annie. But I had to call you something, so I went with the first name that came to mind, graceling.' There was nothing I could say fit for a response to this. I couldn't even nod; he probably thought me to be rude, and that worried me to some extent. There was nothing I could do about that, though, not when I was concentrating solely on holding myself together. 'My name is Aneirin. You might have missed that earlier.' He told me before? I had no memory of it, but in the time from that day to now, there were large holes in my memory. I was under the impression that if I looked about myself to realize where I was, I would have no idea how I had gotten here. But I wasn't wanting to think about that, and so I didn't. I could hear the grass crinkling underneath him as he lowered himself, laying his body next to my curled one. His head dipped so that he was looking me directly in the eyes, and though I knew very well that he wasn't out to hurt me, I couldn't hold eye contact. It was hard enough to know that I'd have to tell him why I acted the way I did. I looked away, my eyes going unfocused again as I slipped into my own world again--but he wouldn't have to fear that I'd lash out at him again, because for once, I was in control of myself. Aside from the usual tremors, of course. 'We can be quiet for as long as you want. But when you're ready, I'd like to hear whatever you need to tell me.' I knew his words were meant to be gentle to me, but for some reason I felt as if there were a pressure on me. He wanted to know what had happened; of course he would. He knew that I didn't want to tell him, even though he was curious of it. There was no reason for me to feel pressured into anything, but with my irrational emotions, that was what I felt. I still said nothing, remaining in my curlced ball. I became aware that the very ends of our fur where touching, his heat transferring to my body. It felt rather nice, especially since the winds had started stirring. It was in the middle of the fall, when the chills of winter started to arrive. Winter was my least favorite season. I was unsure as to how long I remained silent. I wanted to tell him, yet there was another part of me that forcefully resented doing so. I just worked on breathing properly as well as composing myself. It may have been a minute, or it may have been a half hour; time meant nothing to me any longer. Finally, though I did speak. My voice was shaky, but I was speaking. "Zero. He...." I trailed off, embarrassed that I hadn't even spoken but two words. I swallowed, moving my eyes to meet his. "Do you know who he is?" I whispered this, as if I were afraid the large white creature would overhear me. Was he here, waiting? I hadn't even known of his presence at the lake until he had spoken, so he could be laying in the grasses now and I would have no idea. I looked warily about myself, though there was nothing to see other than Aneirin, the sky, and the grass. I couldn't bear to stand up to look around to see anything more, but I shifted closer to Aneirin, hoping he would protect me.

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn15/stephers1995/Aneirin---MIDDLE.png] He was no stranger to waiting. Annie's eyes went vague, skittering away from his face, seeing inwards again, collecting. And so he waited, with infinite patience, patience enough to watch a plant grow. It felt something like that, actually; for a time, in her silence, there was nothing for it but to wait, while petals unfurled and leaves unfiddled. Aneirin felt her trying to control her breathing, and he encouraged her by modulating his own breaths, matching them to hers, but a tic slower. Gradually, he felt her chest expanding enough to take in real breaths, and he allowed himself to do so as well, inhaling great lungfuls of clean air. The sun was just starting to lower itself behind late autumn's fitful clouds, and he watched the shadows fluttering beneath the blades of grass. The big wolf didn't move a muscle, other than to breathe and to blink, allowing her all the time she needed to be unaware of him aside from as warmth. "Zero. He...." She began, voice shaking, then fading out. "Do you know who he is?" Aneirin was still a relative novice in terms of pack politics; as a healer, he preferred things that way, at a remove, with involvement only to patch up the tears others had rent. He still knew the most famous--or infamous--wolves by reputation, though. "I've heard of him," he responded, tone carefully even. "I don't know what he means to you, but I know he's always been willing to do evil." At the mention of this Zero, Annie seemed to grow alert and nervous again, looking around, scanning the open horizon for any other figures, as if Zero himself would materialize. Aneirin was getting an increasingly dark image of what may have happened, and he turned his ears back as he felt her sense of violation. No doubt, she wouldn't be out here and alone if she still had a family and a den to go to, and she must feel as if the world itself was inescapable. She shifted slightly closer, and he smiled, still a bit sadly, and shifted his body. Untucking his limbs from under him, he tilted slightly onto his side, allowing a greater area of his body for her to shelter against, and the greater warmth of his underbelly. "The horizon is clear. The fields are at peace. I promise you, there are still some safe places in the world." A stronger gust of wind ruffled his thick coat, showing flashes of white beneath the dark gray top hairs on his back. He gazed towards her face again, eyes vague, non-threatening. He had hope. She was talking, after all. His brow furrowed briefly as he thought about nightfall, and the coming colds of winter--but they had time yet. Enchanted was no place for a wolf to go homeless, and he would certainly make sure that didn't happen.

[☼ Sunstorm]

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[atrb=background,http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac192/fireb4ashes/Annie-Rose-Petal---BOTTOM.png] 'I've heard of him.' Oh, he had! I wouldn't have to explain him to Aneirin, then. I wouldn't have to speak of the pure white fur that scared me so, the gleaming white teeth and the one red eye. The other was scarred, as if someone had raked their claws right over his face. They should have done it to both of his eyes, to blind him of this beautiful world. He didn't deserve it. 'I don't know what he means to you, but I know he's always been willing to do evil.' 'More than you can ever imagine!' were the words that appeared in my mind, the words that I wanted to say, but my throat was too closed up for the words to come through. I was caught up in looking about myself, my eyes wide as panic siezed my body, though I could not locate any threat. I shifted my body closer to my new protector then--it was strange how I was immediately taken to this fellow. After all, how could I trust anybody, especially after the threat I had just escaped? But it was impossible for me to shun anyone away; I needed someone to trust right now. "He's awful," I whispered, now right beside him. His body had shifted so that I could be tucked under his side, and that comforted me. 'The horizon is clear. The fields are at peace. I promise you, there are still some safe places in the world.' "No," I said, the single word breaking as I shook my head, my muzzle dipping with the grief I felt. It wasn't that I couldn't look at him, not this time, it was just me dealing with the same junk that I had been. "The lake was supposed to be safe...But..." My breath caught, and I painfully swallowed. "Don't go there. Don't," I warned him, my terrified eyes looking back up at him, the emotions within them trying to convey to him what had happened there. I couldn't say that my mother had died there, and I was saying other things in my attempt to explain. I hoped that he would catch on, because I just couldn't tell him outright about it. "He might get you too. All of us, maybe." My breath caught yet again, and I looked down as I worked to breath properly again. I concentrated solely on breathing in and out before I lightly breathed out these words, "Nobody's safe, Aneirin...." My head dipped down, resting on his side. This was unlike me. I was very reserved, and I preferred not to make contact with any stranger unless absolutely necassary. I didn't know why I touched him now, so casually, too. It was strange, but I just shoved away the concern for the moment. I was far too tired physically and emotionally to care.

[Stardust]

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[atrb=background,http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn15/stephers1995/Aneirin---MIDDLE.png] Tum. Tom. Tum. Tom. Other wolves had violent war drums for heartbeats. Some had drums like the slave drums on galleons, beating out the toll and toil of their life. Aneirin simply had a heartbeat--soft-edged and steady, the sound of light flashing somewhere below water, blurred by the depths. Annie curled up closer to him, and he hoped the regularity of his rhythm would soothe her. "He's awful," she whispered in a tiny voice, seeming to recede in size beside him, as if the overwhelming expanse of the fields was swallowing her up. He shifted slightly, trying on some level to prevent that, curling his body. "No..." Her voice, still small, was breaking, chords snapping apart. "The lake was supposed to be safe...But...Don't go there. Don't." Her voice was touching in its sincerity. He felt his heart go out to her, once again, concerned for his safety even in the midst of her unimaginable pain. He still didn't know why it had happened, or exactly how, but Aneirin had things figured out by now. Brief flashes ran through his mind, of bright, fresh blood seeping into the lake he'd supposed so pure. There was no sense trying to keep it from her--she was a smart young thing, and it would only delay her healing, possibly make her look down on him. "He killed your parents, didn't he?" His voice was as gentle as it had ever been, softer than his downy underfur, a bare, cradling whisper. "Forgive me for assuming, but the signs all pointed that way." He tightened the curl of his body slightly, in case she needed a physical form to strike out against, or just more of a feeling of support. Annie's final words before she lapsed into another trembling silence chilled him. "Nobody's safe, Aneirin...." He knew his fears for her were correct; his heart contracted within him, a small, bitter ball, empathizing with her in every way. The sky above seemed temporarily threatening, as he saw it with her eyes, an open eye from which the entire world could spy her out and track her down. She needed closure. He thought of finding her parents someday, giving them a proper burial, allowing her to visit their graves. But she needed much more than that right now. She needed safety, and security. Aneirin licked her on the top of her head, a fatherly gesture. "It's true that no pack land is safe from everyone, all the time. But there are still safe places." He glanced at her again, brows once more knotted in concern, not wanting to frighten her off. But the image of his spacious den had filtered through into his head, and it seemed to fit the bill so perfectly, tucked away as it was in the knobbly feet of the mountains. She could recover there, until she had the strength to face the world, and live in it as someone who accepted its uncertainties. "Do you have a place to stay for the winter, Annie?" ((OOC: I do have some more actions planned for if we want to stay in this thread for a while before moving the action. And just to reiterate, he's offering this in a totally paternal way. I think it probably comes off that way, but part of me is going "STRANGER DANGER!" so I wanted to make sure I wasn't sending the wrong message.))