We All Must Pay a Price

T

his was not the first time she had felt this way before, this potent sense of helplessness consuming her heart, gnawing at her soul. Oh, why was she so young, so foolish, so subject to the whims of others? Could she not be stronger, braver, larger?

Perhaps if all her naive dreams would come to pass, she could have saved her sisters from the soldiers. They were violent and crude, unnecessarily forceful, imprisoning the only family she knew. They did not care that she, a little yearling, would be left to fend for herself in the cruel world. She knew not long they would be imprisoned, and she suffered from that anxiety-ridden uncertainty.

Juniper sobbed for a little while, letting the tears sting at her eyes in the cold. No one stopped to see if she was okay; no one listened, perhaps frightened by her initial outburst. But she soon had enough, and she lifted herself to her paws, her mission to find this “Gwendolyn” character at the forefront of her mind.

But, oh, she ached. She had been trampled the night before, and even as she wandered through the streets over the next day, the pains did not diminish. She needed a healer, and she did not know whom she could trust.

@Gwendolyn

art by BADMAN and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

By the time the news had traveled to Gwen’s ears, the squabble had grown cold. A rebellion, one sure to leave victims on either side injured, had occurred at the castle. For the politics of it she cared not, only that an ache had begun in her chest as word spread like wildfire of the protest. The discomfort had quickly traveled, forcing her limbs to act before her mind could think to comply. Abandoning the negotiations before her, the fae found herself gathering her things in a rush. Herbs and small trinkets were scattered into the hide haphazardly, the fae unable to swallow around the urgency trapping her throat in a vice. Wares packed and pouch secured around her, she began her hurried dash for the castle grounds.

The air bit at her nose as she ran, numbing her flesh as it was exposed. Of all days, this one was particularly bitter, as if Winter realized it would soon fade and tried in vain to take as much life with it as it could. It had very nearly taken her, the weight of grief another burial beneath a snow-covered hill. Gwendolyn would not allow it to do so, however. Goddesses paid no mind to such temperamental elements, so why should she? The fae rounded a bend, shoving her way through a couple speaking engagedly as she set her gaze upon the castle. Unlike most things, the earth was trying and failing at claiming the mass of stone. Towers rose alongside trees, standing strong despite their crumbling exteriors. She didn’t dare imagine what kind of carnage might lay inside.

Slowing to scan her surroundings, Gwen stopped completely upon noticing a young fae wandering the streets. If her battered and scared appearance was an indication, then the price of such protests had claimed children as well. Puffing slightly for breath she approached the girl, halting a healthy distance away and lowering herself to the girl’s level. “Hello young one. My name is Gwendolyn,” she said softly, trying not to startle the youngling. “I can see you’re hurt, would you mind if I took a look?” Her heart broke to imagine what she’d seen, wanting nothing more than to comfort the child as a mother would. Violet eyes scanned the girl, noting injuries as she remained in her crouched position. As much as she desired to get to work, she would not encroach on her space without consent.

@Juniper

Table by Peachyy.

S

he wandered and wandered, paws traversing the bustling city, wolves seeming to carry on with their lives even after the events of the night before, perhaps whispering, gossiping, prattling on and on about the protest—but they did nothing, unawares of the child who do nothing but keep moving. Juniper felt helpless, the pang of loneliness aching her heart, stinging her eyes, and she knew not what to do. So long as she did not have her sisters, she was homeless and and friendless, the darkness nipping at her heels.

Both Rhiannon and Nimue had been taken, brutally, by the army, imprisoned and locked away for merely sharing their opinions with the crowd. Truthfully, Juniper did not understand much of it, but no matter their purpose, she did not feel her sisters were violent or of a malicious mindset. Surely, they only wished to make change, positive change that could only help people like themselves, these nomads that did not seem to fit into the ideal model of a society that the King so curated.

She continued walking, forcing one paw in front of the other, pushing on, summoning whatever courage she had. In reality, she had very little, but she gathered her timid resolution, shivering in the cold, hoping to find someone who might be willing to take a look at her wounds—still, she felt too shy, too afraid to ask. Juniper licked at her paw, the cut numb in the wintry air. It had stopped bleeding many hours ago, but it still looked the part of the nasty gash.

Then, a miracle happened. Someone approached her, and even though Juniper did not think it a blessing at first—she cowered, ears pressed back, tail tucked in fear and uncertainty—she quickly learned the name of her savior: Gwendolyn.

Immediately, her posture changed as relief flooded through her veins, her lips curling into a smile. “Gwendolyn!” she cried, closing the short distance between them. “You’re Gwendolyn! You’re here, you’re here! Nimue told me to find you! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” She looked at her paw, among the rest of the her injuries, glad of the offer. “W-will you help me?”

@Gwendolyn

art by BADMAN and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Upon the breath of her name, the child’s demeanor changed. Slowly the guarded light left her eyes, giving way to the bright, lovely spring hues containing the warmth she must reserve for those she held dear. Gwendolyn’s own violet orbs widened, taken aback to be valued so highly from a child she didn’t know. Perhaps it was more relief than anything, the fae was sure she would have collapsed into anyone with a friendly face were she that young and startled. From the looks of her, there had been more violence at the protest than she’d initially thought. Concern deepened her brow, creating furrows as she looked the girl over and noticed her favoring a paw amongst other injuries.

At the girl’s mention of Nimue, the answer to Gwen’s unvoiced questions suddenly came to light. Ah, this girl knew the other fae, then. She’d had a previous encounter with Nim, one that had left her questioning quite a bit about herself but, more importantly, making her feel not so alone in the world. With a soft smile, Gwen lightly laid her head over the girl in comfort to try and calm her nerves. “It’s all right, dear, you’re safe now. Of course I’ll help you, I’m a healer after all.” Undoing her pouch from around herself, she set it on the ground and opened it to reveal the contents. A bit of herb here, some polished shells there, moss and leaves making up the rest. “All right, now let me see that paw for starters,” she said, beginning to examine the nasty cut.

Tutting softly, Gwen turned to her herbs for a moment and began compiling what she’d need to treat the pup. Soon, her paw was wrapped in long leaves and a disinfecting poultice applied to the wound. For the small nicks and scrapes, she applied the leftover of the concoction she had made prior. “There,” she cooed. “That should help ease the sting and keep your wounds clean. Now, for the injuries we cannot see, I will whip up something just for you, young one.” Gwen took a shell, placing it hollow-side facing up. “What is your name, little dove? You said you were friends with Nimue?” She questioned, crushing herbs and combing the juices into the shell with water from the dampened moss she carried with her.

Once the mixture was complete, the fae turned slightly from the girl. It wasn’t always pleasant to watch what came next, but it was wholly necessary to help her. Taking her small stone, she pressed her paw atop a sharp edge, feeling the blood well against the soft pad. Raising it over the earth, she allowed the blood to drip, eyes closed as she prayed to her Goddess. Please, she said silently. Grant me this favor to heal this girl, Ancient One. The drips ran one, two, three, the final one causing a lightness to float throughout her and warmth to settle within her heart. Clotting her paw quickly, Gwen looked to her potion and knew it had been blessed though it looked no different. “Here little one,” she said, bringing the shell towards the girl. “Drink, and all will be well.”

Coding by Peachyy.

R

arely did she welcome the presence of strangers, not so readily and certainly not with such relief, but she had felt so alone and frightened during the events of the past twenty-four hours that she was willing to take a chance on anyone—and especially someone whom one of her sisters recommended—who showed her any morsel of kindness in this cruel world. Thus, she openly embraced Gwendolyn and her arrival, brushing all of her anxiety aside so she could have the assistance she so required.

The idea of being a healer was one of interest to Juniper, having taken some lessons from Moro in the past, though she had to admit that listening to conversations about herbs was difficult for a pup of her age. Perhaps now that she was older, wiser, more patient, she would be a better fit for the learning process. Juniper watched Gwendolyn, carefully tracing every movement, every decision with her eyes. “Thank you,” she said as Gwendolyn wrapped up her paw and addressed the other wounds on her body.

Truly, she felt better already, even just knowing that there was someone here at her side who would not do her harm. “Nimue’s my sister,” she said. “W-well, not my real sister. I don’t have any parents—” Well, that was not entirely true. Juniper’s mother and father could very well be alive and healthy—she simply did not have any contact with them for reasons she did not have the heart to explain. There was a reason why she was with Rhiannon, Nimue, and Moro, and anyone else would join their coven. “Nimue’s like family to me, but s-she—” Juniper swallowed. “She’s gone. They took her.”

The yearling did not even realize that Gwendolyn had turned around, preparing an herbal concoction for her to take, but she was grateful, nonetheless. The smell was stringent, terrible, really—not much unlike that bitter willow root that Moro once invited her to try. However, Juniper was not in the mood to argue, and even if she were, how could she possibly reject a healer’s kindness? She held her breath and took a large gulp, trying to drink the remedy in one go as not to have to taste it on her tongue for long. “T-thank you,” she said again, though she was certain the expression on her face gave away her disgust.

@Gwendolyn

art by BADMAN and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

N

oticing the interest in Juniper’s eyes, she made note to show the girl more tricks of her trade later. With a small smile she remembered herself at her age, a young girl brought before a grumbling old crone. Clodagh had been rough with her at first, bidding her to do this chore or that. She had always known of the elder wolf’s tenderness for her, however, in the softness of her eyes as Gwen watched her work. When she was ready, she had learned the trade herself, but she supposed she could teach Juniper small things that did not require the toll her craft demanded.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she said gently. At the mention of Nimue, however, her brows pinched together with concern. A sister. The fae had not mentioned a sister but, then again, they’d only met a small handful of times. Perhaps Nim had left the detail out to protect the young creature she cared for now. “I’m sorry to hear she has been taken, Juniper. We shall counsel the Moon Goddess for her safety and her swift release.” Knowing the details of the revolt, she believed Nim was on the losing side and now imprisoned for her crimes. As unsure as she was that the punishment was just, politics could not be her main focus at the moment.

She watched as Juniper swallowed the bitter tonic, imagining how it might taste. Gwen cringed out of sympathy but smiled warmly as the girl thanked her. “It is bitter, I know, but you should feel much better. It will give you the strength you need to get you to somewhere safer.” She hoped that, until her sister came to collect her, that the safer place might be with her. Gwendolyn turned to gather her things, organizing the herbs and containment items upon the hide.

A glimmer caught her eye as she gathered her things. She then noticed the shell, glittering opalescent in the light. Gwendolyn smiled as she uncovered it, turning to Juniper and offering it as a gift. “If you would like, little dove, I would like to look after you until your sisters return. Unless, of course, you have somewhere safe to go?” She inquired, knowing it was likely she did not. “If you would wish to, come. I would like to get a hearty meal for you.” Nodding along the road, she drew her pack around her and led the girl home to food and warmth before her hearth.

[Exit Gwendolyn]

@Juniper

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

G

ods and goddesses, prayers and hopes, summonings and counsel—these were all familiar to Juniper, for her sisters were practitioners of such spiritual arts, drawing upon nature and the power within the soil and among the trees. They whispered to one another, requesting wisdom and strength from the gifts of the earth. Thus, at the mention of the moon, Juniper’s ears perked up, the familiarity a comfort to her. “Yes, please,” she said. “I think I would like to send the Moon Goddess a message, too.”

While Juniper appreciated Gwendolyn’s concern for her taste buds, she only smiled and nodded. “It’s okay! It’s really not so bad,” she said, forcing her lips into an awkward smile—in reality, it was quite bad, but she did not want to seem unappreciative for the assistance and care.

To Gwendolyn’s final question, Juniper’s eyes lit up. An offer of care was something that she could only be grateful for. “Oh, if that’s okay, I’d like that. I-I don’t know anyone else.” Her stomach grumbled, rather loudly, and she gave her newfound friend a sheepish grin. “Food sounds great. I haven’t eaten in… well, a while.” And she followed her caretaker, a flood of relief in every fiber of her body.

She would be okay.

[Juniper exits.]

@Gwendolyn

art by BADMAN and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck