Ember

Ember is ancient. She's been alone for longer than she can remember and it feel like forever. Ember runs. She's run miles over her indeterminate existence and she's good at it. But even the wizened oak bends it's branches to to the wind over time and when the white wolf found her in the woods, he offered her something she had wanted for a while now. A Home. A warm place to sleep at night. Family. Ember accepts.  

She meets a wolf, black as the night and just as biting. She's nursing three puppies when Ember settles it. Mara is smart and not to be played with if you don't know what you're getting yourself into. Ember doesn't realize how much she likes her until Mara howls at the top of her lungs for Ember to run, and Ember flies, scaring a grouse right into Mara waiting jaws. Her friend jumps around with glee that Ember has never seen on her before, and that's when she realizes she made the right choice to come here all those months ago. 

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The wound is deep. Ember doesn't remember when the antler broke her skin. She doesn't remember staggering home on her packmates shoulders. She doesn't remember collapsing in the middle of Mossy Hollow in front of Snowdrop's balking frame. 

The first time she wakes her skin is hot and cold at the same time and he head is full of cotton seedlings, begging to burst. She can smell blood and sweat, lots of it. 

The second is smoother. Ember groans and realizes she's in the medicine cave. It still smells of blood, but the scent of herbs is stronger. Her body feels more weak than feverish, she wonders if that's a good sign. A cool tongue swipes over her forehead, and Ember looks up to see Mara's concerned brow. 

"Good morning?" Ember rasps. 

"It's night." Mara laughs without making a sound. "You've been in and out of it for a few days."

"Heavens," Ember grunts, and glances at her abdomen, where an old poultice lays dry and crusty over a sewed up wound.

"A racoon did it." Mara explains. "It was amusing to witness. He kept dipping his hand in the water pool. I never would have thought racoons to be fussy."

She lays down next to her and starts licking the fur away from the wound. 

Ember's ears flick back. "If you've been here this whole time--" 

"My sons are more than capable, Alder's party is shaping up to be quite strong." 

Ember bites her tongue and ponders. "I'm not used to being cared for." 

"I know," Mara whispers. "Neither am I."

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