Horizon

Emotionally, she was done.  Mentally, she was drained.  Spiritually, she felt dead.  Physically, she smiled.  She was smiling right now, though half-assed.  It was the kind of smile that was traded when awkward eye contact was made.  Somewhere between a grimace and a mere twitch of the lips, both serene and shy—reserved and fake.  She chose to brandish it like a shield in this place of strangers.  Rathbone, she hadn’t liked, and Margarita… well, enough said.  She was the only one Absinthe had taken a liking to so far.  Hopefully the only one.  Relationships were a liability, not just to her, but to everyone and everything.

In all honesty, Absinthe didn’t know what was next for her or what lay in her future.  She was lost.  Actually, she was pretty fucking hungry.  The mountains had been harsh and volatile; they had proven to be challenging to survive in.  She’d been a little over eight months then, waiting for a wolf that would never show.  Starving herself for loyalty.  Look where that got her.  She would have died if not for a man of the mountains.  Sir Freyar.  His voice of doubt had eventually persuaded the child to leave the crags behind—otherwise she would have lingered in the pass for much longer.

Gone was her loyalty now.  Her trust.  Her faith.  Fuck all of that, Absinthe was loyal to herself.  That was she would never be disappointed.

Rithya.  Every now and then she would forget to respond to the new name she had forged for herself.  It angered her.  Rithya was the name given to her by a bastard and a bitch.  It didn’t deserve to be worn by her—not anymore, not while she was free from their scrutiny.  Their dirty looks and shamed faces.

All she’d ever wanted was to be loved.  The task had proven to be too hard for her dam and sire because of her size and unfortunate markings.  One person would love Absinthe now, forever and always.  Herself.  The title she’d created would be the first of many steps to building a new life for herself.  It wasn’t a pretty name—but she wasn’t a pretty wolf.  Screw beauty when it was all her dam and sire had ever wanted.  Screw stature when the weak could rise and the strong could fall.

Sorry, the old Rithya can’t come to the phone right now.  Why?  Absinthe killed her.

Rita hadn’t talked much on the tour. Once boisterous and opinionated, the girl had long since closed up. She spoke only when needed, to point out a landmark of the forest, or to identify a plant they’d passed by. Absinthe didn’t seem bothered by the silence; she appeared deep in her own thoughts, and though Rita was still curious about her, she wasn’t keen on making herself a pest.

They came to the mouth of the cavern by evening. She looked its mouth up and down, tracing the perimeter of the black that stretched within; beckoning, all-consuming, threatening to swallow her whole.

“Here’s the caverns,” she piped up, turning to Absinthe. “This’s where the rest of us sleep.” She did the same, of course, but they didn’t feel the same anymore. She felt out of place inside. Alone.

That feeling never went away, but outside, the cave walls didn’t taunt her for her loss.

“You can sleep here, too.” Rita managed a rigid smile.

The caverns were a series of ebony rocks that cast shadows across the floor when sunlight hit from above.  It was a cozy little alcove—safe.  She was safe here.  A shame Absinthe didn’t feel safe anywhere anymore.  Her parents had seen to that.

This’s where the rest of us sleep.

The rest of them.  The cream girl had to remind herself constantly that she wasn’t on her own anymore.  That there were wolves other than Margarita that made their home in this humble abode.  She wasn’t used to so many scents decorating her nose; she’d been on her own for the past two months.  With only a guardian for the four months before that.

So used to being alone had Absinthe become that she was no longer accustomed to life with others.  Before she had been happy.  Bubbly, optimistic, and a conversationalist.  But that was before.  This was now.  And Absinthe had changed.

You can sleep here, too.

Dull green eyes slid towards Rita’s figure.  “Not one of you.”  Had it been anyone other than the pale pup in the area, she wouldn’t have said a word.  Wouldn’t have even considered opening her mouth.  But she liked Margarita, the fairy goddess.  She would talk to her.

Still, proclaiming herself a stranger was useless.  Margarita already knew that.  She already knew it.  Somehow, though, voicing her restraint felt better.  Absinthe wouldn’t know how comfortable she would be sleeping in a foreign place packed to the brim with other wolves.  She’d always liked it better outside, anyway, and barely slept as it was.  She would make due.

Absinthe was… hard to pin down. Whatever walls that had crumbled before they’d found one another had been hastily rebuilt in the time it took them to get from the meadow to the caverns. Now, the girl was a closed book to Rita, latched and leather-bound. She began to wonder if she’d ever find the key; if, perhaps, Absinthe would leave before she could.

Maybe she already hated her. Rita wilted slightly at the thought.

“Is that bad?” she asked, giving Absinthe a sidelong glance. “That they’re not one of me?” Personally, she thought it exactly the opposite: the less this girl was around her, the better. She was defective, and it was only a matter of time until that showed.

But she hadn’t had a friend in months. She hadn’t been touched by someone that mattered in months. The last wolf she had laid next to was Dionysus, and by then, he was already gone.

Rita shuddered, biting the edge of her lip.

“I don’t really like the caverns,” she admitted softly. “I just… don’t know where else to sleep.” Her eyes met the long shadows within again. Barely a home, but just enough to keep her close.

Is that bad?

Absinthe had to do a double take before realizing how her previous words had come out.  She’d meant to express that she wasn’t apart of the Evergreens pack and that she never would be.  There wasn’t anyone in the world that could make her take a title in a tribe.  Facts were facts and Absinthe was better off on her own.

So why was she here?  Why did she stay?

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.”  Months of travelling with nobody but herself had left a bitter taste in the girl’s mouth whenever she spoke.  Deep down inside she was the optimistic puppy that had been carelessly tossed away and abandoned.  On the surface she had become something a little more apathetic.

It was okay to talk to Margarita.  The others, she was more unsure about.  Rathbone especially.  But here in the caverns with nobody but the Fairy Princess, there were no limitations.

I just… don’t know where else to sleep.

“Do you like it here?”  Absinthe ventured.  It didn’t seem like Margarita was happy with the Evergreens.  At least, not completely.  After all, the girl had only known her for the timespan of an hour.  Still, Absinthe was curious why the girl would stay someplace she didn’t feel at home in.  Everyone had their reasons, she supposed.  Some were just worth pursuing.

Margarita seemed to clam up all at once. Oh—so that’s not what Absinthe had meant. What did she mean, then? The girl shuffled her forepaws, looking down at them as she did.

Do you like it here?

“No,” she replied. She didn’t have to give it any thought. The caverns were barely a home anymore; the only reason she stayed is that she didn’t know where else to go. She didn’t know how to hunt, didn’t know how to take care of herself. She didn’t even know how to talk to others.

But when it came to explaining why, she couldn’t seem to muster the words.

Margarita didn’t like it in the caverns.  She didn’t like it by the luminescent pool that radiated all shades of blue.  She didn’t like the gray walls that encased them all in a singular space.  Or maybe Absinthe was getting it all wrong and the only thing Margarita didn’t like were the wolves.  It was the people that made the place, Absinthe had come to realize.

“Why don’t you leave?”

Little did Absinthe know that she probably wouldn’t get an answer.  She didn’t know that she had hit the nail right on the head.  All she knew was that she wanted the Fairy Goddess to be happy, strangely enough.  She wanted Margarita to smile more than she ever wanted to smile herself.

In that moment, if Absinthe could trade her own happiness for Margarita to feel it, she would.  Attachments were dangerous.  They could be as poisonous as her name.  But the girl didn’t care. 

If there was anyone in this world that deserved joy, it was Margarita.

Why don’t you leave?

“Tried that once before,” she spoke. Rita didn’t care much, speaking about her brother—at least she didn’t think she did. Each time the opportunity arose, though, the words suddenly caught in her throat, and refused to go any further. She had yet to even tell Lees, but she felt she owed the woman no explanation anyway.

It was her fault Dion left in the first place.

Her gaze shifted back to the caverns, eyeing the scope of its mouth, so much larger than she would ever be. “It didn’t end well.”

Finally, she looked back at Absinthe. Her heart fluttered in her chest unlike it had ever done before. The feeling made her stomach churn.

“You like that meadow, right?” she asked, muzzle gesturing in the clearing’s general direction. “Maybe we can sleep there. Find a hollow or something.” It had been the place they’d found each other; it held only fond memories for Rita thus far. Perhaps they could find shelter there.

Just… anywhere but the caverns.

It didn’t end well.

Absinthe’s green eyes softened then.  By the tone of her voice and what she had learned before from Rita, something had happened in the past that had made her afraid.  That had made her sad.  Abs didn’t like that.  She wanted to see Margarita happy, not mourning.  Whatever it was she was being haunted by, Absinthe wanted to chase away the ghosts. 

I’d fight your demons for you.

When the other girl’s golden eyes landed on Absinthe’s, she froze.  She didn’t ever want… Margarita to look away.  Abs felt that if the girl did, she would lose her.  She wanted to stay in the eyes of the Fairy Goddess forever.  It was a feeling of desperation that the scrawny child clung to, even when Margarita’s muzzle turned to point north towards where they had met.  You like that meadow, right?

The girl’s head nodded up and down in confirmation, a little more forcefully than it could have been.  But Margarita had suggested something Absinthe quite liked the idea of—finding their own place to sleep.  If she didn’t want to leave the company of the Evergreens but was unhappy among them, maybe distancing themselves from the rest of the wolves would do them some good.  Maybe it would make Rita happier. 

“Yeah.”

Absinthe nodded again, this time with a smile.  A real one.  Not faked, not forced.  Real.

Absinthe’s already delicate face took on an especially gentle look for a brief moment. Rita silently wondered why, instead resolving to take it in for as long as it lasted; commit it to memory. Perhaps try to summon it forth again in the coming days.

Provided Absinthe wouldn’t leave her. The mere thought made her stomach feel like it would sink into the earth, and her heart like it may as well stop.

The other girl agreed to her proposal with a nod, and a faint but genuine smile. Before Rita could stop herself, she was smiling, too.

Okay,” she said. “We’ll stay in the clearing, then. Maybe we can find a place to dig ourselves a den. And we can make our own cache.” Her tail waved behind her weakly, an expression of unbridled excitement compared to the way it sat lifeless between her hocks a minute prior.

We’ll stay in the clearing, then.

Yes.

Absinthe’s eyes read.  She liked that idea.  Becoming independent from the rest of the adults in the area with still enough support to depend on them in times of dire need was Absinthe’s way of life.  Still, she doubted that herself and Margarita would ever need to call on the wolves of the Evergreens.  They could do just fine on their own.

Abs had never wanted to be apart of a pack.  She’d never thirsted for commitment or partnership.  Maybe once when she had still been a foolish and naive child.  Part of her was still naive.  Part of her still longed for social connections, the same social connections that had been torn from her the moment her own kin had turned on her.  That singular part, though, was overruled by a new understanding of the world and what she was.  An orphan.  Unwanted scum.  Margarita was an orphan, too.  Together, they could do everything everyone thought they couldn’t.  Together they could conquer the world.

She couldn’t resist.  Her rump wiggled on the cold ground, a brief smile breaking out on her features before receding to something more subtle.  Slowly, she tried to touch her charcoal nose to Rita’s plush cream fur in an act of gratitude and affection for her one and only friend.

Rita had since looked back at the cavern, with Abs falling back into her typical silence. Her mind was elsewhere, anyway, wondering how she would bury the memories that snored in its depths. She could hardly walk the walls without hearing her mother instead of Lees; without seeing her brothers frolicking and napping in the corner of her eye. No matter how far she went from it, they stayed, haunting, like owls in the silent night, or the frigid stiffness of a body that wasn’t once like that.

She blinked. Absinthe nosed at her cheek. Margarita tilted her head to look at her, lips parting slightly. She couldn’t remember being touched like that since before her mother had left. Her chest felt warm, and her face even warmer. She swallowed.

“Um… should we go?” Her tail flicked. “Yeah. We should get out of here.”

Rita felt the uncontrollable urge to move. Her heart was pumping blood as hard as it did when she ran. She was afraid that, if Abs did speak, she wouldn’t be able to hear it over the roar in her ears.

Hit me in the face if I ever take this long to respond again.
_____

As Margarita’s mouth parted into a perfect ‘O’, Abby offered a reassuring smile.  Together.  They would stay together.  There wasn’t any other way Absinthe would rather have it.  Margarita was hers now, not anyone else’s.  Not the Evergreens.  Not Rathbone’s.  Not the Gods, for they were cruel.  She was hers, and Abs was Rita’s.  They could protect each other far better than any adult could because they understood each other.  That was the important thing.

Yeah. We should get out of here.

The pale child couldn’t agree any more.  With an enthusiastic nod of her head and another wiggle of her rope-like tail, the slender bag of bones rose off of her haunches and looked to her Fairy Goddess friend. 

Race you,

Her mildew eyes seemed to say as she lowered herself to the ground, preparing to prance away.

(( im only capable of gentle pats, sorry ))

Absinthe took initiative over their plans, turning and swiveling towards the clearing’s general direction before assuming a position unlike that of a mere walk. Rita recognized the signs of a building race from when she’d had one with Lees, all that time ago. Now Abs roused in her that same competitive air.

Her tail lashed once behind her in a devilish manner as the stepped up to the plate as well.

“I’m not easy,” she warned, eyeing her friend. Her skinny, starving friend. Looking too much like Dionysus in her white coat and grim demeanor. Rita clammed up suddenly, giving a hoarse swallow before turning back towards the forest.

Of course she would go easy on Absinthe. If it meant keeping her from hurt, Margarita would do anything.

She waited for the green-eyed girl to start.