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Wildlife crossing at Parco Naturale Migliarino San Rossore Massaciuccoli, Toscana, Italy Photo: Carlo Cafferini
rinnahtheskinchanger
She swallowed thickly, initially, gaze flicking to the blood on the ground and in the water. Hopefully he would be willing to let this go, to forgive her for sullying such a sacred place.
The next words out of his mouth held no disapproval, and she had to sigh with relief. Rinnah listened to him, brows furrowing a bit. The skin changer felt something nagging at the back of her mind. Each name he spoke made her feel like she did know him, that he was important to her. One hand came up to rake through her hair, trembling slightly. Who was he?
Her head snapped up when he said he remembered. He remembered all of them? All of who?
A faded memory came up to the surface. She had been playing in the forest with her sister. They’d seen…a stag, unlike other than the two had ever seen before. The little skin changers had watched for a bit, before running home to tell their parents. Their father had taken them into his lap, cuddled them close as he told them stories.
No…not stories.
“I…remember something…” Rinnah rubbed her temples before her hands fell down into her lap, “Herne. I don’t remember the rest, though…except that you’re important.” She swallowed thickly, “Why are you important? My dad told us all sorts of things, but I can’t remember them…”
Herne crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees, his head tilted to the side as he watched her struggle with her memories. Of course, it was quite a long time ago, and maybe staying away from them had been a mistake... Ah, he couldn’t claim to be the best of fathers, indeed...
“Herne, yes. That is one of my many names.” He scooted a little closer, now almost certain that she no longer saw him as a threat. “I always kept an eye on you, but eventually... I thought you were lost to me.” He took a deep breath, and looked down at his hooves. “Important? Well... I guess I made rather important mistakes, yes,” he snorted. “Like thinking mankind wasn’t beyond help in the first place. Like burdening your kind with the purpose of guiding them.” He took a deep breath, and released it in a shaky sigh, slowly reaching out to tilt her chin up and look into her eyes. “I believe I owe you a long story, and an even longer apology.”
//
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rinnahtheskinchanger
Rinnah was rightfully conflicted when the hare was offered to her freely. She’d come to be wary of gifts, as they almost always came with a price. He looked rather earnest, however, and even worried. Perhaps it was best that she take it. After all, it was still rude to refuse an offering, and that might serve to anger him.
Her body tensed as his hands descended upon her, and frightfully waited to see whether or not the man was to hurt her or not. Rinnah looked to the hare again, gaze darting to him for a moment, before snatching it up in her jaws. It was held between her paws as she tore into it voraciously, just in case this person decided that they would rather take the food back. Ears twitched as he spoke, glances thrown his way to make sure things remained as promised. The wolf’s jaws even slowed a tiny bit at the realization of pain ebbing, thought she was still hard pressed to consume her meal as quickly as possible.
Once finished, and his hands had moved far enough away, she changed to look human. She was decidedly much smaller in this form, at only five feet (equal to the height of her shoulder as a wolf). There was a decent amount of blood on her face from the meal, and she wished to wash it off. Rinnah leaned forward, and dipped her hands in the spring before rubbing her face clean.
After a few moments, the question that had been burning in her mind forced its way out. Her voice was a bit rough from disuse, but still understandable.
“Who…are you…?”
Bright green eyes never left the wolf girl as she finished her meal. He was looking for wounds he might have missed, for any sign that she might attempt to flee or attack him. Pain did corrupt the kindest souls, and she would be no exception. But she did seem to relax a little, and that, he thought, was a promising start.
He knew very well that Skinchangers were not more vulnerable in their human form than in their animal one, but he had not expected her to be so small – he towered about two feet over her now, and that certainly wasn’t going to help her feel any less wary of him. He looked down at his own hands, contemplating the mess they had made as she cleaned up in the spring, his ears twitching at how rough her voice was when the question he had been expecting finally came.
He took a deep breath and looked up at her again. “I do not know which of my many names you know me by,” he said softly. “I am Cernunnos. Herne. The Horned God, the Greenman, the Oak and Holly King. And although I do not know your name, I do remember you. I remember every single one of you.”
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Under the still surface of grief throbbed dull anger; the Oak King was mourning yet another failure, and soon might be mourning another loss. The forest had a multitude of eyes, and all of them were his; he could watch the wolf approach, the ragged, (barely) living remains of his last attempt to put humans back on track. Where had it all gone so wrong? He had given his troublesome children mentors, guides, friends, and they had turned them into their victims.
She had entered his sanctuary, his hiding place, that place in every forest that one could only find after getting lost. She was at the core of his realm, and for her, that meant salvation. Herne stood up from his oaken throne, his movements slow and ponderous as he treaded through the blossoms, the dead hare dangling from his large hand. The clearing whispered around him about the newcomer, guiding him to her, and soon he found her and his heart broke just a little more.
“Welcome home,” he simply whispered as he came to kneel by the water next to her. He set the hare down on the ground in front of her and ran his hand along her bony spine, seeking to alleviate some of the pain from her many wounds. “Welcome back where you belong.”
She’d let her eyes fall shut, enjoying how the cool water soothed her throat. Her tongue soon stopped, however, and she allowed herself just to rest. It was nice, here, on the soft grass, with the sun warming her fur. Rinnah considered herself quite lucky for the first time in a long time. White ears twisted at the sounds of movement, but couldn’t be bothered to take a look.
This changed, however, at the sound of a voice, and her eyes cracked open, gaze lazily moving to catch sight of the one who had spoken. Rinnah could hardly do much more than to blink, taking in the somewhat odd visage. Had she grown up around more skin changers, perhaps she would’ve seen something like him, but it had only been her parents and sister. The hare in his hand was quite an enticing sight, though the wolf would not move an inch towards it.
Rinnah was jolted out of her quiet thoughts by the touch of his hand on her spine. She let out a startled noise, flinching obviously, though unable to move very far. It wasn’t her fault, really, nor was it his. Such a thing couldn’t be helped. However, it seemed as though she were started to relax beneath his hand, somewhat. After all, it wasn’t like he was human.
She watched him a bit warily, now. It was worth noting, however, that her eyes had cleared a bit, looking decidedly less dull, even a bit curious. Rinnah licked her chops a bit nervously, glancing toward the hair for a moment.
Herne looked into her eyes for as long as she would hold his gaze, hoping that she could see, in his eyes, that he felt nothing but affection for her, and joy from her return, in spite of the painful circumstances.
“You can eat,” he said softly. “It’s a gift. It won’t indebt you to me in anyway. If anything, you would be doing me a favor – no one ever comes here to die.”
And, with those words, he let go of the hare, making sure to leave it within her reach, and began to run his hands over her wounds, careful not to hurt her more than she already was, as a low healing chant rumbled in his throat.