As yall know, I was obsessed with Hawksong and the rest of the Kiesha'ra as a kid. So when I found this write up the author did of the ahnleh, I knew I had to turn it into a tarot spread.
My Spin a Sakkri spread is good for immediate advice on a current decision or problem you're facing. The she card frames the present moment, the point of decision. o'she reveals a past point that is still influencing the present. a'she is one of many possible futures. Ahnmik illuminates that which binds you, freezes you, or perhaps stabilizes you. Anhamirak liberates, burns, and sparks change. And the Free Will card speaks to how you can impact the course of sheni, the ever-flowing line of time as it marches through Mehay.
If all of that made actual sense to you, congratulations, you're a nerd :P Come talk to me about having your own sakkri spun, and come check out all of my other spreads on my ko-fi page.
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I'm gonna ask for a Wolfcry snippet and I'm not afraid to do it full knowing it will expose how obsessed I am with the concept still
(In response to the âWIP Memeâ game, where I promised every ask about a WIP gets YOU a snippet and makes ME do a 15min writing sprint for it.)
Rav, it fills me with so much joy to know you are still cheering for this story. Of course, you may have a snippet. In fact, I am incapable of writing snippets. Have a big 'ol chunk of a Twilight and Wind scene.
[Wolfcry Synopsis: Twilight overuses his wolf form to avoid emotional situations. What good will crying do anyway? It doesnât fix things. It only generates relief, catharsis, a signal to others that you need help, embarrassment. But wolves canât cry. And before long, neither can Twilight.]
~~~
âWolfie?â
Twilight freezes.
Wind is staring up at him, eyes suspiciously glossy in the firelight. The sailor worms a hand out of his blanket and gives a little wave. âItâs nice to see you hanging around,â he whispers, careful not to wake the others. âIf youâre looking for Wild heâs two people down.â Wind points out the direction.
Twilight doesnât move. He wants so badly to help. Is there no way to make things right?
Wind looks confused. âDo you- are you not checking on Wild? I thought you were his wolf?â
Twilight snorts at that.
Wind smiles. Itâs a bit shaky but Twilightâs heart warms at the sight. He takes an unconscious step closer to Wind.
The boyâs face shifts, a hopeful expression lightening his features. âWould youâŠlike to stay with me for a bit? If you want?â
And what else can Twilight do in response to that? He settles himself next to Wind, careful not to force direct contact with the sailor if he doesnât want-
Wind presses himself fully against Twilightâs side, a sigh of relief whispering out of him. Fingers press into the thick fur at Twilightâs neck and rest there, not petting him, but holding on. They both lay still, the minutes passing by as the dying fire crackles. Twilight almost believes that Wind is drifting to sleep when he hears the whispered words.
âI hate this.â
Twilight keeps his body still and his breathing steady, but his ears prick forward to catch every sound.
Wind continues, his voice low and harsh. âIâve fought plenty of monsters. Iâve gotten hurt dozens of times. Iâm not afraid.â Windâs free hand, the one not still buried in Twilightâs fur, curls into a fist. âBut IâŠâ
Twilightâs heart sinks.Â
âI close my eyes and itâs right above me.â
He had wanted so badly to believe he had made things right. That Wind truly was fine. But that had been a selfish wish and this was his punishment.
âThereâs no time to react. Thereâs no time for anything and I hate it.â Windâs voice hitches at the final word and he presses his face into his sleeve.
He wants so badly to say something, but Windâs shoulders are shaking and neither of them makes a sound. If Twilight were human he could have done many things. Like pull Wind into the tightest hug he could manage. Like bend down close and promise to watch over him properly, the way he should have done in the first place. Like tell Wind that he was strong and brave and that the tears he now cried did nothing to diminish that.
Like whisper that he was sorry. Please believe me, Wind, Iâm so sorry. Iâm trying to make things right.
Wind finally sits up on one elbow, wiping roughly at his eyes. âThis is stupid! Sorry, Wolfie, you donât have to listen to me.â A guilty look passes over his face and he glances around the campsite before letting out a little sigh. His next words are low and conspiratorial. âAt least Twilight is still taking a round in the trees. I donât want him to know.â
Unease squirms in Twilightâs belly. His desire to help wars with the knowledge that he is being sneaky, however unintentionally. I shouldnât be here. I shouldnât have heard this. Should I leave him alone?
Wind is still whispering to the wolf, unaware of the secrets he is spilling, head tilted close. âI just canât say this stuff to him⊠or the others. Itâs hard enough getting them to treat me like an equal.â He takes a deep, calming breath. âIâm okay now.â
Twilight gives him a level look.
Wing glares back and hisses lowly, âWhat? Thereâs no way I could ask one of them to stay with me at night. Theyâd freak!â Windâs cheeks flush. âPlus, thatâs super embarrassing!â
Twilight hesitates, caught up in the new found knowledge and the underhanded way he had gotten it.
Wind turns his gaze out to the surrounding woods. The weak light of the fire barely penetrates the deep shadows. Windâs breaths are deep and even, carefully controlled. But he has a white-knuckled grip on the edge of his bedroll, a wooden knife handle tucked mostly out of sight under the fabric.
The wolf huffs and lowers his head to the ground, making a show of getting comfortable.
Windâs eyes snap back to Twilight and go wide. âWait. Youâre staying?â
Twilight doesnât move.
ââŠall night?â
Death mountain would have been easier to budge.
Wind ducks his head down into his blanket, but not before Twilight catches the open relief shining from Windâs face. The younger boy keeps his gaze down as he settles in again next to the wolf, not saying another word.
Soon, Wind drifts off to sleep. Twilight keeps watch. He keeps watch the way he should have done the night before: all senses alert, using what was given to him to the best of his abilities.
No attacks come that night. The only disturbances come from Wind himself. Three times the sailor jolts awake, his breathing harsh, his hands clawing out into the dark. Every time, his fingers sink into soft fur and hold on. Windâs eyes lock onto the wolfâs and see him unmoved and on guard. Every time, Wind finds his trust in the wolf rewarded. He is being watched over. He is safe. And eventually, breaths evening out, he falls back asleep.
Twilight does not sleep. He watches the forest. He watches the changing of the night guard as the other heroes take up positions and silently observe the wolf in their midst. First Time, then Four, then Legend. Their gazes feel heavy and oppressive to Twilight, but they do not ask him to give up his vigil.
The night stretches on and still he watches. Despite the guardian at his side, Wind twitches and squirms through a troubled sleep.
Twilight did this. And it makes him want to scream. It makes him want to run until his muscles are burning and every breath brings searing pain. It makes him want to cry.
