A Question She Had Never Asked

[Mayan]

((Hello, dear. Well, I'm back! Don't worry, I'm not asking for my job back. You're doing a wonderful job! I just want my fortune told like any other wandering varg. )

Morning in Transylvania. The sun was sending fingers of light out over the horizon, testing the land for its worthiness. Finding everything in order, Fenris rose without protest. The pines glowed with fresh radiance and the birds began to trill, testing their voices for the long day of singing ahead. It was through this virgin woods that Mayan prowled. She reveled at each step, for it was like coming home. Her heart was full to bursting with the happiness she felt, for at the end of her journey lay home and her daughter, Cinder. Since the day she had first found the pup at the entrance to her cave in the Vale, Mayan had loved her more than any of her other adopted children. Cinder had also stayed with her for the longest time, far after her other children had faded into the dark. Mayan realized with a shudder that she could not ever recall their names. With her mate, Blackfire, killed by a bear, Cinder was all she had left. And when she had heard that she had taken over the Vale, Mayan had been overjoyed. There was nothing to do but come back and see her. So, now her paws were carrying her straight back to home. A thought made her falter in her stride. What if she can't forgive me? It sent an icicle plunging into the depths of her stomach. Another thought immediately followed. But it wasn't my fault....I left because I had to, didn't I? Didn't....I? She stopped completely in the middle of a sunlit glade. Why had she left? She hadn’t really thought about it at the time; she had simply gone out for a short walk one morning and hadn’t come back. Was she really that callous and irresponsible to leave her home, her job, and her friends behind? The notion made her miserable. Of course Cinder wasn’t going to forgive her; there was no reason to. Well, if she was going to go near the Vale at all, she decided she had better come up with some kind of disguise. At the edge of the glade there was a small muddy stream, Mayan strode over and rolled in the thick black muck at its bottom, completely obscuring her white pelt with its crisscrossing black scars. Next, she found a small patch of wild garlic. Trying not to breathe, she ate some of the zesty plants. There. That should cover up her scent and make her unpleasant enough to be believable. Smacking her lips at the unpleasant taste and trying not to shade the hardening mud from her fur, she continued onward toward the Vale. She reached her destination a few hours later. By then, the mud had flaked and cracked enough that she looked like a crusty old gray wolf. The garlic masked her scent well, without being too overpowering. Now for the final touches. Mayan remembered a technique that Neit of the Balkar had taught her long ago: how to see without your eyes. Mayan knew that her bloodred orbs would give her away, so she closed her eyes and rubbed dirt over the lids. She let her other senses open to the world around her and almost felt like her eyes were open. For the last part, she adopted an arthritic hobble and a quavering warble in her voice. Now, she looked for all the world like an aging, wandering varg with barely enough strength to catch a mouse. She staggered down the path to the entrance of the main clearing where she called out loudly with her new voice.
“Seer! Is there one here who will tell a poor old varg’s last fortune? I have heard tales of the young charcoal varg who replaced the white one with ruby eyes. Can she help me?”
Mayan sat in the clearing and waited with baited breath.

[Cinder]

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from A to where you'd B
It's only finger lengths that I see...

She was dreaming, and she knew. The young Seer was a cub again, standing beside the pool with an older she-varg. Her fur was purest white, and laced with jagged black scars, and her eyes seemed to be flickering with wildfire. Cinder looked down into the pool, past her horribly wounded face and into the icy depths. Her eyes narrowed- she saw nothing but water.

"I can't see anything, Mayan," she confessed. "How do you see so much, for just one Varg? I don't understand..."

The white wolf smiled sympathetically. "It is a fragment of the Sight, Cinder. It had been bestowed upon me to answer the questions of all Vargs who seek me out. It's my blessing, and my bane..."

Her words faded, and darkness enveloped her. It was a dream, a memory. Nothing more. Her adoptive mother had vanished seasons ago. Mayan would not be there when she woke.

I touch the place
Where I'd find your face
My fingers increases
Of distant dark places

As she floated in the dark, she tried to reach out with her mind once more to her mother. She had the gift too, and she was more practiced in it than Cinder was. It was all new to her, and it had taken weeks to only begin to master the art of Fortune Telling, and even longer to understand it. She still couldn't understand it, no better than when she had first met Mayan. Again, she called out to her, through distance and time itself, and as always, she could never get through to Mayan. Perhaps she was dead, or maybe she just didn't want to be found. Was it possible for her to block out others with the gift?

There was a beckoning howl from the clearing, and it startled Cinder into consciousness. Her body jerked, and there was a splash and a suffocating coldness around her face. She gasped, and water flowed into her mouth and muzzle. She lifted her head, and staggered backwards, coughing and sneezing violently. The fit ended, and she stood there, shivering and panting. She realized that she had rolled over while sleeping and had laid too close to the pool. Her body had partially fallen into it.

And now there was someone outside waiting for her services. Cinder sighed, watching some water droplets roll of her nose. She didn't want to look into the pool again, or see into a varg's past or future. She would send them away- for today, anyways.

As she exited the cave, a wall of invisible energy slammed into her mind. Cinder's gift had often brought information from her visitors to mind before she even laid her eyes on them. But now she heard no thought, no name, no past. Just a firewall of great power. But the old she-varg before her looked anything but powerful. Her gray fur was crusted with earth, eyes blackened, limping, stinking... she looked like the walking dead.

But there was something about her. Something different, familiar. It wasn’t her powers that gave her this feeling- it was far deeper. She just couldn't place her paw on it. Perhaps, she wouldn't send her away. Yes, she would find out more about this downtrodden varg. And so, with dripping fur, the scarred, achingly thin Seer emerged from the cave.

And miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground and I
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

[Mayan]

Mayan was hard-pressed to maintain her disguise as Cinder emerged from the cave. She could tell from her scent that the young varg had changed. There was the smell of hardship and of famine. She wanted to fling open her eyes and run to her daughter. She wanted to lick her muzzle and make her into a pup again; to calm her nightmares and tell her that everything would be fine tomorrow. But that was a fantasy. So, Mayan kept her eyes closed and head down, feeling her way carefully across the clearing, trying to recall every rock and plant. As she neared, she could sense a feeling of wariness emanating from her daughter, as well as a bit of the Sight. The old white varg immediately put up her defenses, retracting the little feelers she had put out and filling her mind with inconspicuous thoughts. She had no idea just how finely honed her daughter's abilities were, and took no chances. Without the slight aid that her Vision lent her, she now felt more isolated than ever. To distract Cinder, she spoke in a raspy warble.
"Ah, I can smell that ye have arrived, Seer. Will ye tell my fortune? I have nothing for payment; the only prey I am able to catch nowadays are mice and rats, barely enough to keep me going."
She smiled lopsidedly and pretended to scratch at fleas with a hind leg. Mayan then cocked her head, as if just noticing Cinder's emotions.
"Does old Itza interest ye, young one?"
She carefully used her birth mother's name. noting ironically that if she were still alive, she would probably look like Mayan's disguise.
"Ye flatter me! Perhaps 'tis the remains of my healing aura that ye sense. I was once the medic for the Frecne pack, and quite a good one as well. Maybe 'tis why I've lived so long."
Frecne was a dying pack when Mayan was just a pup. Perhaps her explaination would be good enough for the young Seer.
"Now m'dear, shall we continue before these old bones decide to snap?"

((Ehhh, sorry. Horribly short and lousy post. I'll try to do better on the next one.))

[Cinder]

The grey elder’s crooked smile was returned hastily. “Hello,” Cinder said, voice raspy from disuse. With a bow of her head, she greeted the mysterious varg. “I am Cinder, the Fortune Teller of the Vale, and I am at your services.”

She lifted her head, once more, her separately colored eyes blazing with hidden frustration. This varg… who was she? And why couldn’t she receive any information from her mind? Her thoughts were interrupted as the she wolf spoke once more, knocking her out of her trance.

"Does old Itza interest ye, young one?"

Itza, so that’s her title? Cinder gave her head a shake to clear her thoughts, as Itza explained of past healing abilities. She listened, nodding her head in acknowledgement to her words, and when she gave a humorous attempt to continue with the visit, Cinder paused.

This varg didn’t fit the form she was in. Now she was sure she had to be another varg. She nodded to her words nonetheless. “Yes, you’re right. Come with me into my cave. You can rest, then we’ll begin.”

She turned away and flicked her tail, beckoning Itza to follow. She moved slowly, allowing her visitor’s limping gate to go as carefully as needed. They came into the shadows of the cave, dully lit with glittering crystals, and a name was whispered, clearly, in her mind.

Mayan…

Cinder paused, and glanced at the varg who called herself “Itza”. Was it possible that she was… Cinder hid the suspicion quickly, and addressed the elder. “There’s a pool at the back of this cavern. Go and sit beside it – have a drink if you’d like – and we’ll get started.”