Morning breaks quickly at 10,000 feet. The early daylight shines through the trees of Rephidim's Noble Quarter, bathing an exhausted fox in unwelcome radiance. He wakes slowly, confused by conflicting memories and a certainty that he can't truly be two people at once.
As Zephyr wakes, slowly, wanting to sleep the day yet not able to, tormented by memories of his dreams… the first thing that greets his nose is the scent of… her, all around him, in the bedroll he's been sleeping in, transferred to his fur from her brush. The one in his dream, a flood of emotion… only he can't remember her name. Can't remember who she was, or is.
A gray squirrel spirals down a tree at full speed, chased by a rival. They match each other step for step, racing tight circles on the ground and then up another tree. It's all over in a moment. The loser chitters and curses, slapping its perch in a fury.
The squirrel notices Zephyr's movement and chitters angrily at him.
In those waking moments, as those thoughts batter at him, he's faced with a greater realization. That not only does he not know who she was… he's not sure who he is. His mind is… fuzzed, filled with contrasting memories of coldblooded assassination, weapons… and yet other images, of stars, glowing lights, metal, then the warmth of a fireplace in… the cave from the dream. Nothing makes sense, and he welcomes the intrusion of the noisy squirrels; it snaps him back to the here and now, letting him rise to all fours for a morning stretch. Claws extend and muscles flex as he yawns, then looks up at the tree-rodent. "You'd make a good breakfast, I bet… "
The squirrel kicks at its branch and continues its tirade just out of reach. It makes up for its small size with a loud voice and a lion's share of chutzpah.
It's cold this morning. The sun's rays are welcome though they drive the chill off only slowly. Something hot to drink would be perfect about now.
After the stretch, the fox stands, smoothing out his fur, then looking down at the bedroll. Rumpled and beaten from apparent heavy use recently, it looks like nothing more than a worn old blanket, covered with that same familiar… scent… The thought hits him just as he's thinking about how nice a warm drink would be. Tea. And someone's blanket, with that scent… someone…
Zephyr stares at nothing, thinking hard, concentrating… and his eyes catch the motion of a single-bladed fern waving in the cool morning breeze. It looks almost like a… green ribbon. Where has he seen a green ribbon before? With warm tea, and a blanket… and… the image from the dream. He closes his eyes, ignoring one set of memories, and focusing on this one. More, and more, shutting out the world around him, paws clenched, and then… the floodgates open. Whatever the mage did to him breaks as if it were a cork popping, and memory after memory floods forth, until the fox has sunk to the ground, overwhelmed.
A servant drives an unladen wagon toward the city's Bazaar on the public road a hundred yards away from Zephyr's camp. He sings about a Master and a stablehand, and a case of mistaken identity. He repeats the same lines in different melody, trying new words and making up new trysts each time. The verse is poorly executed and in poorer taste. It suits the servant well. He laughs at his own cleverness as he drives out of sight.
Time passes. How long is not certain. The sun moves a little in the sky, patterns of light through the leaves changing on the fox's fur, playing across his features, then reflecting in his eyes as they slowly open, as he looks up. "She's here. She's alive… "
The tree squirrel screeches at the sound of Zephyr's voice, its whole body taut. It dares Zephyr and his whole family to test its mettle. It is death incarnate. It will swoop down on the hapless fox-victim at any moment. Fear it. Run. Run far away.
Zephyr quickly gathers up the bedroll, taking a deep sniff, then looking up at the noisy squirrel with the gaze of a fully aware predator, its momentary reaction the he knows is the expression of defiant fear in prey causing him to… stop for a moment. "Fear… She ran from me. She didn't call me, or approach me. She… that's not… " He shakes his head. "I was probably downwind. Find her first… " In a blur, he's gone, every sense as alert as his ancestors as he searches for the scent, for a trail, for anything…
Backtracking along his trail to the creek where he met Wyn, Zephyr tracks around for her scent… faint now, but so recognizable to him that he's able to find it, discerning the arcing path she took after he reaches its midpoint, and only zigzagging slightly each time the trail had faded completely. At this point, where she's crossed water and where wind has for the most part erased her scent, he looks around, knowing that she'd have to be either in a copse of trees, or hidden in underbrush. He heads diagonally across all approaches to anything large enough to hide her, ears swiveling, nose twitching in the cool air.
Zephyr pauses as he nears the city walls, considering. o O {She hated crowds. She wouldn't have gone in there. She likes wilderness as much as I do, and will probably be sleeping now. Either I find her… Or I wait for evening, she has to hunt too… "
Wyn wakes to soreness within her tiny shelter. She's slept unmoving all night with her back to a tree and her knees drawn up close. She blinkblinks, wondering why she's awakened. The sound of purposeful footsteps headed towards her is like the shock of cold water.
Wyn reaches for the curved knife on the ground to her left and makes herself as small and quiet as possible.
Wyn thinks . o O { Your woodcraft isn't as good as you thought. Pray your ears are right, and there's only one. }
Zephyr stops his motion as he nears a promising thicket… although the last three he circled were promising as well, he… doesn't know… something… He circles the thicket, sniffing, then stops as he catches a faint hint of the scent, very faint… o O {Please let her be here… } He stops, knowing full well not to surprise another predator, even her, then moves slowly closer, takes a deep breath, and speaks softly. "Wyn? Are you there? It's Zephyr… " He's troubled by memories of her running from him, not calling out. o O {Something's wrong… }
Zephyr, after pausing a moment, deliberately moves upwind of the thicket, not sneaking… and even brushes at his fur and tail to spread his scent into the air.
Wyn thinks . o O { That's funny. The words don't make sense, but I'd ack! It's that fox. What IS going on? First you're noisy, and then you're upwind. Are you trying to beat the bushes sos I'll bolt like a dove? }
Zephyr shakes his head. o O {Wrong language, stupid.} He speaks in Genesis common instead. "Wyn? Are you… there?"
Wyn lays her ears back, stunned. She turns the curved hoof knife in her left paw so that the edge is set for a backhand. She crouches.
Zephyr closes his eyes as he thinks of something else, concentrating. o O {Hope I get this right… } He opens his eyes again, and starts… singing, quietly. Words that Wyn taught him one evening. Words that he hope she'll recognize, though he has no idea why, if she's in there, she doesn't know him and come out. "Anois, t'aim buartha 'S tad ar shiu'l an la', odho'n 's odho'n o'… "
Zephyr keeps singing softly as he moves quietly closer, ears pricked forward to listen for movement, eyes widening as he moves into the shadows. He's singing in her own native language, hoping she'll understand, though not knowing why… she's not responded already.
Wyn thinks . o O { A lullaby! Don't know where you learned that, but it won't save you. }
Wyn times her leap, slashing out and down at the fox's side in a move intended to end the fight before it begins.
Wyn thinks, as time slows down, . o O { Odd way to lure prey, with a lullaby. Prolly works better on wufs who are sane. }
Zephyr, hearing the movement a split-second before it reaches him, and already high on adrenaline from his flood of memories and emotions, spins in a red blur of motion, his tail instinctively whipping up to catch the blow harmlessly in thick fur, counting on his attacker's momentum and their difficulty getting un-involved with his tail to reach over and bring his arm sharply down on theirs.
Wyn cries out and drops the knife, her left arm stinging all the way to her shoulder. She lays her ears back and shows all of her teeth as she backs away. She tries to watch Zephyr and look behind her at the same time.
Wyn holds her left arm to her midriff and pushes her way past the trees to find… no one else present?
Zephyr's ear flatten at the cry, and as he absently kicks the knife away, he looks up, panting, but his eyes are… soft. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… " He stops as he looks at the wolf. "Your eyes are… How… Wyn? That's you… don't you recognize me?"
Wyn thinks . o O { What kind of ambush is this? I suppose I should be grateful I'm not bleeding right now. }
Wyn growls and shows all of her teeth as she backs away until she feels relatively safe. Then she stops.
Zephyr speaks softly in Genesis standard, with what few words of Wyn's native language he knows mixed in as well. "Wyn… I lost my memory too, you don't… know who I am?" He keeps his ears perked gently forward, his tail down, his teeth hidden. And his eyes aren't hostile, they hold only concern.
Wyn flexes her left paw and adopts a fighting stance. "Go away," she wufs. "I'll not be taken."
Wyn studies Zephyr for signs of ill intent.
Zephyr blinks, watching the wolf. "Taken? I… You don't know who I am at all, do you… " His ears droop, but he notices the string by which he'd tied the bedroll package to his back. Carefully untying it, he crouches, slowly, and with a gentle motion, tosses the roll and its contents in a gentle bounce towards Wyn. "You left these… "
Wyn looks at the bundle and back at Zephyr.
Wyn says, "Why have you followed me? Not to return an old blanket, I bet."
Zephyr watches the wolf quietly for a few moments, not showing any signs of hostility, his body language showing only confusion. He watches her for a moment more, then speaks softly. "Why? Wyn… You've… forgotten who you are. Think about old blankets. Don't you remember another old blanket? Your old blanket, in a cave by a fireplace?"
Wyn says, "Have I? Tell me who I am, then."
Wyn thinks . o O { That will throw him. He'll have to come up with a story on the spot. It'll be easy to see through. }
Wyn thinks . o O { I don't remember _anything_. How am I to know fact from fiction? }
Zephyr takes a deep breath. "Your name is Wyn, your full name is Arywn. You're from a world called Afer Vetnus, but I've never been there. You and I were on another world… called Genesis. In the mountains. You and I lived in a cave in those mountains, and you had a link to them, could feel them… an 'earthlink', you called it. There was a green fire that had to do with them, and with… your dreams. There was an accident, with that fire. You and I were pulled into… there's no name for it… what is beyond the universe. We were separated.
Wyn thinks . o O { Could he be genuine? He calls me by name. He speaks the only words I can understand here… in two languages. }
Zephyr tilts his head. "If you don't believe me… have you met anyone else here who speaks the same language you do? I was force-taught this place's language by some sort of helmet.
Wyn wufs, "I don't believe you. You could know me from anywhere."
Zephyr says, "The other words I was speaking… they're your homeworld's language. You taught them to me, Wyn."
Wyn thinks . o O { The story is ridiculous, of course, as I knew it would be. There was green fire on the airship, though. Could he have seen that from… }
Zephyr shakes his head softly again. "Anywhere? I'm not even sure where 'here' is yet myself. I've been beat up, locked up, and messed up enough already here, and I wasn't even sure you were still alive… "
Wyn's eyes widen. "You're from the _airship_," she wufs very softly.
Wyn shakes out her left paw. Her forearm is still numb.
Zephyr blinks? "What airship? Some feline with wings brought me in on one… then turned me over to be… 'processed'… "
Wyn lays her ears back and begins to circle around to make sure that there's no one in hiding on the far side of the thicket.
Wyn softly wufs, "Did you really come all alone?"
Zephyr's eyes are still soft. "I don't want you to follow me, or anything, I just want to make sure you're alright until you… remember. Here… " He slowly, carefully slides out a hindpaw to her dropped knife, and kicks it along the ground to her. "This is yours. And yes, I came alone. I _escaped_ alone, they tried to kill me, again."
Wyn thinks . o O { Yeah. I know all about those felines. They gave me to you in the first place. }
Wyn stoops to pick up the knife and shifts it to her right paw. It feels awkward there.
Zephyr keeps quietly watching the wolf. "I've been nearly killed several times, beaten up, tortured, locked in a dungeon, and had to swim through a sewer to escape. Whatever it takes to convince you I'm not a threat, then… He takes a deep breath. o O {Hope I'm fast enough if I'm wrong… } Then, he closes his eyes ad lifts his chin, baring the white fur of his throat to the wolf.
Wyn thinks . o O { I wonder if I can take you down. This is not the way I'd prefer, directly, but you're certain to go back into town where I can't follow you. I might not get another chance. I'd better… what? }
An almost imperceptible swish of the knife going to Wyn's left paw and the movement of air are Zephyr's only warning.
Zephyr yelps! as he dives backwards and rolls in a single blurred motion, then backs quickly away, a heartbroken look filling his eyes. "You would have… Wyn, what's happened to you?"
Wyn backs away herself and curses. She moves the knife to her right paw again and flexes her left.
Wyn growls. "Curs-ed pirate."
Zephyr stands, backing up further. "Wyn… there's a copse of trees behind me, about a quarter of a mile. I'm… going to see what can be done in that town, there. Every chance I get, I'll leave things there for you. Rations, tools, weapons… whatever I can get. Until… maybe, hopefully, you remember who I am. And… what you were to me… "
Wyn thinks . o O { I'm onto your scheme now, fox. It's your life when you return. }
Wyn softly wufs, "Don't bother. I'll be long gone before you even get to the wall."
Zephyr stands quietly, looking into Wyn's eyes, trying to see a glimpse of who he once knew and loved. "I won't ever be far, and I'll try to get some rations, some equipment and money and weapons to you as soon as I can. A bow and arrow, a better knife… In the meantime, take care of yourself… " He keeps watching, even the attack having aroused no anger, only quiet sorrow.
Wyn doesn't speak.
Zephyr winces at her words. "Wyn, why don't you trust? I can… tell, you've had a rough time too. I want you to remember all that you were, the happy wolf I got into snowball fights with, had tea snuggled by a warm fire with, and giggled with over so many things, from stuffy diplomats to your romance novels… you don't remember those, your favorite books? But… " He looks down. "Right now I just want to make sure you're alright, wherever you go."
Wyn thinks . o O { Bow and arrow. Who do you think you're kidding? You'd have to be insane. I'll believe _that_ when I see it. }
Zephyr looks up again. "You're better off out here for now, until you remember. There… in the city, if you don't know the language, they take you to be processed, interrogated, imprisoned. I don't want that to happen to you. Just be careful, and don't trust anyone."
Wyn rages inside at the presumed familiarities. "It's too late to make up for what you did," she wufs flatly. "I beat your game once. I'll not play again. I'd rather starve."
Zephyr blinks. "What I did?"
Wyn thinks . o O { He knows I'm not from around here; that's why he can lie about the city. You can't interrogate a fur you can't talk to; I found _that_ out. They'll 'process' me alright. They'll process me right through the system and sell me for cheap fodder. No way. }
Zephyr shakes his head. "And you won't starve, you're too good of a predator. I just don't want you caught by any of the City patrols. Wyn… if you knew… they lock you in a room, I… went feral, I don't even remember half of it, except biting and clawing. I don't want you to go through that. I don't know what you've been through so far, but you've suffered enough. Don't use this thicket again, and I'll drop things where I said, when I can. That's all.
Zephyr takes a deep breath and looks at Wyn again, eyes soft. "I don't expect you to trust me now, and with how you are, what you've been through… I expect I'll have to earn your trust. As long as I know you're safe, and healthy… " He closes his eyes. "That'll just have to do for now. Until you remember just how much I care about you."
Wyn scans the city walls. She thinks . o O { Still no signs of the rest of the fox's crew. Unarmed, no horn to call them, no whistling arrows. How else could he call them? Is the object to detain me long enough for them to arrive? }
Zephyr watches Wyn's gaze, and nods, then says something very, very difficult. "Wyn… go now, in case anyone saw me approach. I'll go the other way. And take care of yourself."
Wyn nodnods, listening. "Thanks for the knife, Guilty-Conscience. Don't come back; I'll use it on you first of all, if you give me the chance. Yeah. You go, and I'll go the other way when you're out of sight."
Zephyr lowers his head, each word from Wyn seeming a physical blow to him. "Goodbye, Wyn. Be careful, hunt well, and sleep lightly. I'll be… around, if you need me." At that, he turns, padding off into the distance, ears and tail drooped, until his form is swallowed by the shadows of distant trees.
Wyn waits until Zephyr is gone and then follows his path at a walking pace, keeping to shadows.
Wyn thinks . o O { If the direction he wanted me to go in is set up for ambush I'll miss it, and if he doesn't enter the city, I'll know. If he does enter the city, I'll know where to look for him. If he's outsmarted me, and ambushed his own trail, I guess I'm no worse off than if I fell into his paws any other way. }
A distance off in the deeper forest, Zephyr settles… or more accurately, collapses onto a fallen log, holding his muzzle in his paws. His form seems to quiver slightly as he's unable to control something he never allows himself, something pilots and warriors and all that sort aren't supposed to show… tears.
Wyn carries the bedroll with her, and the brush. The fox's scent is familiar, teasing her with half-formed memories.
Wyn's ears flikflik at an unexpected sound up ahead. Her prey has stopped sooner than expected.
Wyn moves up under cover until she can hear better. Is that grief?
Zephyr whispers quietly to himself, holding his head in his paws. "Why doesn't she remember… I love her, and she doesn't even remember who she is… so scared… " He stays as he is, silent tears he's unable to control wetting his muzzle, his form shivering.
Wyn watches unmoving.
Wyn thinks . o O { ! }
Zephyr shivers harder, whispering quietly. "Whoever did this to her… whoever hurt her is going to _pay_!" He says the last through clenched teeth, then shakes his head softly. "She doesn't remember… " His rich muzzle-fur is damp with tears, and a single, silver droplet escapes through the black fur of his paws to fall softly to the ground.
Wyn's breath catches in her throat. She keeps herself still while her mind rebells in panic.
Wyn thinks . o O { @#$%. }
Zephyr keeps his eyes closed tightly, tears he's still unable to stop wetting them as he gently slides down the log to lean against it, exhausted, his entire form quivering with anger and pain and concern. As he presses his muzzle into the wood, he managed to mumble 'they'll pay' and 'Wyn… why… ' one last time before dropping into a fitful sleep, his tail curling around him. Another single tear slides off the tip of his muzzle, catching the sunlight before splashing to the forest floor with a whisper-quiet pat.
Wyn slips quietly out of the bushes and eases her pack to the ground. She splays her ears and lets her tail touch the earth. She looks at the fox and at the chitin knife in her paw.
Wyn sets the knife on her pack and pads over to the sleeping form empty-handed. She stops a few feet away.
Wyn softly wufs, "Fox?"
Wyn trembles. She eyes the knife and instantly regrets leaving it out of reach.
Zephyr shivers a little, then jumps slightly, opening his eyes and looking up, his fine muzzle-fur streaked with dampness. He coughs, and watches, taking a deep breath. "Zephyr. My name is Zephyr… I know you don't remember. Wyn, I… " He brushes at his muzzle. "I wish there were some way I could help you remember, you… mean so much to me,,"
Wyn shows her empty paws.
Wyn softly wufs, "I heard you talking to yourself."
Wyn says, "Zephyr."
Wyn splays her ears and lets her tail touch the ground.
Zephyr looks at Wyn's empty paws, then at her ears and tail. He quietly rolls to sitting against the log, and speaks softly. "Hold your tail proud, Wyn, you don't need to apologize to me… it's not your fault. I just… want to catch the ones who hurt you, and make them pay… and pay dearly. I… know you don't remember what you are to me. Just know that I care. A lot."
Wyn softly wufs, "I don't remember a thing. I don't recognize 'Zephyr' or 'Anwyn'. It's all darkness and shadows."
Wyn softly wufs, "Your scent is sort of familiar. I thought I must have remembered you from the airship."
Wyn relaxes a little as her senses continue to assure her that things are as they seem to be.
Zephyr shakes his head quietly. "Let me guess… they led you into trusting them, then slapped you into torture or a dungeon too?"
Wyn softly wufs, "I don't know that I trust you completely, Zephyr. Things have happened. I don't want to talk about them."
Wyn softly wufs, "I'm telling you truth. It's a sort of test, to see what you do with it."
Wyn softly wufs, "I don't think it's safe for me to enter the city. The bugs are all after me. Some others, too. Did you know that?"
Zephyr sighs. "I've been… those memories… I've been framed by some sort of assassin. and would probably be shot on sight in most of the city. I barely escaped those bugs, in the sewer."
Wyn looks at the fox.
Wyn says, "I don't understand."
Zephyr rfs. "A fox who looks like me… She… had me confused by a magician, and then put me outside. She wanted me to be killed for her crimes."
Wyn wrinkles her nose. "I guessed the sewer part."
Wyn says, "O."
Wyn stirs the dirt with one paw.
Wyn softly wufs, "I did what they're after me for."
Zephyr looks at Wyn. "But I know you. You wouldn't do anything that wasn't just."
Zephyr says, "No matter what their 'laws' say. I've met the people in charge here. They're nasty and corrupt and cruel."
Wyn mms, not wanting to contradict the fox.
Zephyr watches the wolf quietly. "Wyn, I don't want you to trust me right away… I want to earn your trust. I don't want you to trust _anyone_ right away. If you want to talk about it… yes, I'm here. But if you don't, I understand. All I can say is that I know you. And I want to help you regain what you've lost, if you want to, when you're ready… "
Wyn lays her ears back. "Don't push me too hard on that, OKie? Everything's gone. Just… gone. That's plenty for me to deal with at one time."
Zephyr nods quietly. "I understand. And I won't. Just right now… know you're not alone. I'm just… very grateful for the trust you're giving me now, Wyn."
Wyn softly wufs, more gently, "I am not sure what I lost, but a part of me misses it terribly. Whatever the green fire was that you remember, it left when I was on the ship. I don't remember much of that… they injected me with something."
Wyn softly wufs, "Please. Answer a funny question for me."
Zephyr winces. "Injected? The green was your magick, Wyn, and… " He pauses, listening… "
Wyn softly wufs, "Is your fur the color of an angry raincloud? Not the ruffy part. Everywhere else."
Zephyr blinks. "Raincloud… you mean gray? He looks deeply into Wyn's eyes. "No, it's bright red-orange… Wyn… your eyes used to be a different color. Now they're amber. Like mine."
Zephyr whispers softly. "You can't see color anymore… "
Wyn softly wufs, "I thought I'd lost my mind completely. I guess I should count my blessings."
Wyn softly wufs, "It doesn't hurt. I'm getting used to it."
Zephyr thinks… "Wyn… Something a prisoner… where I was was saying. About the sky and the ground… "
Zephyr says, "That magic works on the ground, but not when you go up. We're pretty high up, aren't we? Could that be that… you've lost your magick up here?"
Wyn says, "I don't have any magic."
Zephyr looks down. "You used to. That green fire was part of that. Wyn, you once saved my life by slashing a creature attacking me with that green fire, destroying it. You could make plants grow, speak with the mountains… lots of things. I know, you don't remember. But this all isn't lost, you've just forgotten, Wyn. You'll get it back in time.
Wyn shrugs.
Wyn says, "I don't know if I want it back. I was pretty sick on the way here, after it left. If getting it back is anything like, I don't want any part of it."
Zephyr nods. "I understand… " He tilts his head, watching Wyn. "How are you feeling now? You're not hurt at all, are you?" He winces a little. "I hope I didn't hurt your arm, I'm sorry… "
Wyn says, "Hungry. Confused. My arm is OKie. Intended worse for you than you returned."
Zephyr halfsmiles. "Understandable, don't worry about that. As for hungry… we could hunt, if you like. And I _might_ be able to sneak into the darker part of the down and buy some rations. I know the language, and have had experience in bad ports… plus… " His ears blush a little inside. "Wyn, I never told you I did a little bit of stage acting when I was a kit. "Risha Silverfur's Hundred Territories". So… I can adlib, a bit… if we need something. I don't think you should go in, not now."
Wyn says, "I _am_ tired of squirrel."
Zephyr smiles softly. "Well… we can maybe try together to work to box in some larger game for a good dinner, or head for the stream and get soaked pouncing fish? Then tomorrow, I can go into that town, buy us some supplies, and something to hunt with… bow and arrow will get us birds at least."
Zephyr thinks… "And I insist that you hold onto all weapons at all times. Just… because."
Wyn shakes her head. "No big game. The bugs don't know where I am, and I'm not going to suggest to them that I'm here. They seem to be a little thickheaded."
Wyn looks at Zephyr.
Wyn says, "I'll show you a fishing hole."
Wyn walks with Zephyr towards a widening in the river nearby.
Zephyr pads up to the bank… "Pounce-and-toss?" He extends his claws, and starts to quietly slip into the water.
Wyn says, "What's that?"
Zephyr grins. "This… " He watches, unmoving, until a fish slips past below the surface, and POUNCES after it, plunging his arms into the water and using a clawed hand to flip a the fish out onto the bank where it lies flapping. He looks up at Wyn, his fur dripping with water. ""A bit messy, but refreshing… "
Wyn jumps on the fish and finishes it before it can get away.
Wyn thinks . o O { I suppose I have to wait until there's enough for two. }
Wyn says, "Good trick. Can you do that again?"
Zephyr pounces after several more fish, missing a few, then looking up at Wyn. "Go ahead and eat that one, this might… erf… take a few minutes… "
Wyn sits down on a rock and satisfies the edge of her hunger.
Zephyr grabs some leaves from the bank, sprinkling them on the surface to get the attention of fish. He's rewarded a few seconds later when a fish breaks the surface, and he pounces after it, flipping it high into the air, then batting it towards Wyn. "Two… They any good?"
Wyn bites into the second one.
Wyn says, "Taste like dirt. Best fish I can remember. They're better than squirrels."
Zephyr scrabbles madly after a third and fourth fish, soaking his fur, but eventually landing a few more. Only after he's provided enough for Wyn to eat does he take one himself, sitting on the bank, panting and dripping, to bit into it. "Mf… Better than squirrels isn't saying much. Remind me to get some pepper and lemon juice."
Wyn finds herself nodding off and shakes herself awake with a start.
Wyn says, "Erf."
Wyn says, "Way too much excitement for one day."
Zephyr nods softly. "But we're… not alone anymore. Wyn, I thought you were lost forever. But you're right here… " He smiles softly. "You can take a nap and hold onto the knife, I'll take first watch over here by the water if you want. I'll sleep in a little while."
Wyn pads over to Zephyr and splays her ears. "I feel nervous to sleep here. Er, with you. I'll just go for a walk, and look for you here when I wake up. Is… that OKie?"
Zephyr nods quietly. "Of course it is, Wyn. I'll be here, just be careful."
Wyn whisperwufs, "I'm sorries. I'm all mixed up inside. It's too much to sort out at once."
Wyn softly wufs, "May I see your paw a moment?"
Zephyr halfsmiles, and just looks deeply into Wyn's eyes. "Wyn… I'll say this. You’re doing far, far better than I would if I were you." His ears swivel? and he nods, holding out his black paw.
Wyn takes Zephyr's paw in hers and gently presses it to her muzzle. She breathes in slowly with her eyes closed, memorizing the scent. She breaks off in muffled laughter.
Zephyr tilts his head softly at Wyn, watching her? "Are you okay?"
Wyn softly wufs, "I can now follow you through any stream you swim in, Mr. Fish."
Zephyr smiles. "Good. I want you to be able to. I'm going to take a nap… I'll be right here, just howl if you need me. I know your howl."
Wyn swishes her tail a little and lets Zephyr's paw go. She nods.
Wyn turns and disappears into the forest, taking the knife with her.
Zephyr looks silently after Wyn, and a quiet smile spreads across his muzzle as he curls up to sleep. She may not remember who she is right now… but she's alive, she's here… and she's still the same Wyn, no matter what.
Wyn thinks to herself, as she curls up not far away, that perhaps her luck is changing, and the nightmare is ending. A hawk circles into her vision from her left and flies off again, and she shivers at a vague memory of omens and their meanings. Her dreams are fitful and she wakes constantly to look over her shoulder.
Wyn settles into an even sleep a few hours before sunset and sleeps late into the evening.
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