Hope and Hopelessness

[Red Moon]

Outside the Cairn's bawn felt eerie. There was certainly that sense of being exposed, among the corpses of trees, but with it came the inescapable feeling of dread. Nothing lived here. No spirits were spared the cataclysm that struck this place in the Sept's absence. Now, only the skeleton of the forest remained, and silence reigned.

Kaito scanned the landscape so spoiled by atrophy and couldn't help feeling responsible, despite everything. While it was true that their cairn, too might have fallen if they had remained, seeing what had happened to it while he was gone was devastating. If they had stayed would this place have had a better chance? What would the cairn itself look like? surviving had never felt so cowardly or unsatisfying.

His hands ached. He'd spent the day clearing debris, laying the corpse of the land to rest, and searching. For any signs of life, for a clue, for an enemy - anything that could make sense of all this. Only a year had passed, but already the rules had changed so much.

The bar had been proof enough of that. The brawling club the leeches had formed had welcomed them with open arms, even the one who had managed to spot Kaito sneaking inside. and while it served their purpose to let them fight, it should have been clear why he and the others had come in the first place. The vampires left in this place seemed oddly comfortable with the change.

Kaito's thoughts turned to Julia again. Had she survived in the city? Had her captors? He wondered how much point there was left in searching for her when so few vampires, as anyone knew them were left.

The ground was cold, not as it was in winter, but as a shell devoid of life felt. He could only hope that today, his sacrifice would make a difference. Kaito closed his eyes, remembering how the forest looked just days ago, by his perspective. He focused on that image and drew from deep within himself, pulling on his connection with Gaia and infusing his gift with hopeful memories of the life that once flourished here. His hand began to feel warm as the transfusion of gnosis gathered around his palm and fingers, and seeped deep into the ground.

When he removed his hand, his print remained, filled with light and warmth and smelling of life. And in an instant, it was gone again, soaked in as if by a sponge, the earth once again losing its vibrancy and the warmth of life fading.

It's hopeless.

Everything. This place, their fight, life, and any hope of finding Julia again all lost. ...At least for today.

He felt close to the edge, and helpless in the face of all that's changed. But still, Kaito refused to fall. Maybe there was nothing he could do, and it certainly seemed that way to him, but the will to survive remained, as always. Perhaps tomorrow will be different. Until then, it was important to remain hopeful. That was the only thing they had managed to bring back with them, and the others; the ones who had been left behind in this mess knew it.

Kaito felt a wave of fatigue wash over him, the same he'd experienced last night and the night they'd avoided the catastrophe. He lifted himself off the ground and began walking back inside the cairn to rest. Tomorrow, he'd try again.

Tomorrow, he'll hope again. Maybe something will happen.

Maybe...

[Nate]

Cold. A year later, and his heart is still cold.

Only a few moments ago, Samson's tribe-mates were wiped off of the mountain, and now only bones remain, if even that. Only a few moments ago, the forest was lush with life, and now everything was dark and wasted.

"I despise extremes," Samson said to nothing.

"This coming from a Wendigo?" A memory echoed in his mind. "A people who thrive in extreme cold?"

"The absence of something does not make an extreme. It takes effort to reach either end of the spectrum. A lack of good is apathy, not true evil. A lack of evil intent does not make good."

The lack of spiritual energy was not through a lack of trying. Samson had been pouring his heart's-blood into the earth, to watch it soak into the dirt and fade away. Samson was not the only one, he could feel the echoes of others in the area doing the same. The winds carried the voiceless songs of a few who refused to give into the despair of this twisted world.

But the earth still was cold and lifeless. Lifeless, not the natural sleep of the Autumn season. The lum, spirits, were starving.

Something was siphoning the energy away. Something with a deeper hunger than Wendigo himself. Something that needed to be hunted and removed before the green could heal itself.

An Uktena warrior who had given her life in a great service of this Caern. A pack-mate killed in his burrow by an impossible bullet. A Sept of tribe-mates, gone to dust and ash. How many more wounds could Samson's heart take before it was cut out of his chest?

"Don't forget, Brother, I am always with you," a faint voice whispered in the cold wind. "When your living heart carries too heavy a burden, just turn to me."

Till the day he died, Samson would always have his Heart of Winter with him.

And the wind whispered, a killing winter is fast approaching.

[Athena Fire-in-Snow]

Echo pads up behind Samson, wearing her wolf form, the better to feel the earth beneath her feet. She presses her white furry flank against him, rubs her head against his leg, then sits down next to him, leaning in.

She sits there, wordlessly sharing in his pain and grief, facing a chill future with her packmate by sharing her warmth with him.

[Abby/Blood Offerings]

It was almost too much, looking out at the wasteland beyond their borders. Seeing the poor hungry spirits. They had to find out what had done this. What was keeping it this way.

But for now, she was doing her best. To keep the spirits coming in to a manageable level. It was so very hard

[Nate]

Something that Samson often forgot, was that a burden shared was a burden lightened. It was certainly a good thing that he had a loyal pack beside him, and wise elders around.

Does it have to die? They had asked Samson. He did not have an answer that was not born of rage.

A storm is coming, an old saying amongst many people. Wait long enough, and it will be proven true. But it can't rain all the time, another wise one once said.