[Present]

Adolpha had gone to Mayor Kelo the next morning. She wasn't quite as determined as she was during her conversation with Quince, however. Rather, she was second guessing every step that she took down the dirt road, feet crunching against cracked mud and pebbles. A pit of nervousness filled her stomach up, and she found herself glad that she hadn't eaten breakfast. She hadn't even had the nerve to make herself morning tea, and her hands fidgeted restlessly at her front.

Despite this, she wore something a little more elegant compared to what she usually wore. Being back home, her weight had started to return, a bit of pudge at her stomach and beneath her chin and along her thighs. She didn't mind it, for it was a sign of prosperity and abundant food and good health. She wore a black cloak this time around, waving at her feet as she walked, with boots lined with sheep's wool and a pale cream tunic. Her healed arm ached less than usual, and that gave her a bit more confidence, as if she could truly seize this warm morning. She had a bit of hope that her arm would one day heal completely; a hope she had never had before. The pains came and went, but they seemed less frequent now than when she'd first arrived in River's Bed. The torture of it all lingered, but it felt more distant on the warm morning.

She walked down the street, a bit jittery as her nerves continued to tingle, and then walked up to that familiar door. But before she could even place her hand on it, Kelo opened the door.

"Why, hello, Adolpha," he said with a bit of shock, a bit gruffly. "I was just coming to find you..."

Her heart sank, "Why? What happened?"

He chuckled, but she could sense a thick nervousness behind it. "Why don't you come on in? And my, I'd like to say that you look nice this morning. Did you have any big plans?" The question felt like it was made just to ease her, but it only made her even more nervous. The pit in her gut continued to dance around, like she'd been on a mule for many hours too long.

"I was coming to see you," she said. The Mayor led her into the familiar building. Today, it felt particularly dim compared to the bright, hot light outside. He gestured, and Adolpha politely sat down in the seat in front of his table. He sat behind it. "What is it?" She asked again, urgently. A thousand concerns flew through her mind at wrecking speeds, but she tried her best to gulp them down.

Mayor Kelo sighed, speaking slowly and softly, but he remained completely honest, "We heard news from Danica and Ajax today. A courier brought us a scroll from them." He pulled the scroll of paper from the floor, setting it on the wooden table between them. Adolpha just looked at it, blinking. "For you."

"Did... something happen?"

He cleared his throat, "Nothing bad. Just read it." Adolpha's tongue felt heavy in her mouth. Suddenly, she felt as though she couldn't get enough air, like her lungs refused to expand, like her throat was closing up completely. Her lips were a thin white line, her expression stoic and pale and sweaty. Were they hurt? Did something terrible happen in Adam's Peak? Her mind and chest spiralled with paranoid uncertainty. It was sickening. With trembling hands, she slowly took the scroll and unravelled it. It felt incredibly heavy in her quaking hands. The ink blotted on it was smooth and precise. It was written in no rush, and clearly written with affection. Just seeing the smooth ink strokes managed to calm her nerves slightly.

So, she read:

Adolpha and Quince,

Danica and I (Ajax, in case you'd already forgotten about me) have stepped into a good place here in Adam's Peak. It's cold, and right now it's getting colder as the dry season settles in, but it feels like home to me. We're making a huge difference. I help in the mines, and they've already elected me as a manager for the miners. I make decisions, I collect the ores we find, and Danica helps us to smelt them and build tools. She helps manage prices and distribution of supplies, and helps the farmers and traders, too.

After much thought, we have both decided to stay in Adam's Peak. Permanently.

We will visit very often on trading routes. I will see you both in the upcoming weeks.

I wish you a great harvest and a great day.

With much love,
Ajax and Danica.

She sat, flabbergasted for a moment, eyes widening as she read the paper, and then narrowing as she finished it. Her disbelief and frustration and grief melted away into intense, hot anger. An anger she hadn't seemed to feel in a very, very long time. Without a word, she stood and slammed the paper onto the table, her chair's legs squeaking against the floor as she shoved it behind her. The chair fell onto its back with a clatter as the furious woman stormed out of the building, slamming the door behind her. Every inch of her bubbled with venom. How could they? How could they just abandon her and Quince like this?

Mayor Kelo rushed out after her, calling, "Adolpha, wait."

She flipped around, her coat trailing like a tail behind her, unaware of the scene she was causing in the street, "What?!" Her nails dug into her palms, her hands in tight fists as her sides. She heaved with every hot breath.

"I have something else for you." Then, almost amused, he laughed, more genuine this time, "I thought you might react this way." Her bubbling rage began to simmer, and she let out an exasperated exhale, her stiff body softening only slightly. The wound that Ajax and her sister had opened would fester, but for now, she kept it beneath the surface, neatly locked away.

"What?" She asked. She hadn't intended her voice to waver as much as it did, nearly trembling. As the anger subsided, the emptiness and loneliness took its place, and her eyes became sheen with wet at the edges. She refused to let any tears fall. The Mayor took several close, thoughtful steps towards her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. He looked down at her, but he didn't look down at her. Instead, he looked at her with nothing but fatherly affection and genuine kindness. It melted her, and she continued to slowly relax.

"I have a job for you."

Suddenly, Adolpha remembered why she had even gone there, and ever so slightly, she brightened.

"I thought that it would do you good," he continued.

His mouth opened to speak again, but before the words could come out, Adolpha blurted, "A guardsman?!"

He chuckled, "You know me too well." Then, with a wink, "Or maybe I know you."

Everything else melted away, and her face lifted into a smile, "Thank you!"

"Now," he said sternly, "You know for a fact that I am keeping you out of anything dangerous. But we could use someone with your experience and skills on patrols or in case of emergencies. There's not anyone else I could trust more with leading my guardsmen than you."

"Leading?!" Adolpha felt like a little kid again, being told her drawing was so good, or that she was learning so fast with a little wooden sword. Even despite the anger and sadness lingering in her head, she couldn't help but beam. She was enough. She was worthy.

"Yes," Kelo couldn't help his own smile. "I will overlook everything. You come to me if you're uncertain or if you have any questions. But I want you to manage the primary guardsmen of River's Bed. Tell them where to go, what to do, what places to search... I know there are holes in our current routines that I don't see. Weaknesses, that I know you'll have an eye for better than me."

She couldn't help herself. All of the emotions swirled, something like pride sparking within her for the first time in years. She leapt and hugged him tightly around the waist, and he held her back.

When she released, she was still beaming, but her eyes widened, "I have to go tell Quince!" Then, she thought of the letter, and her widened gaze grew a little more serious, "Oh, I have to go tell Quince!" Without saying another word to Kelo, she raced back into the building, and quickly grabbed the scroll from the table. Her hip hit the chair with a sharp, painful shock, but she ignored it. The chair was a little more dramatic and knocked back over onto its side with a clatter. Kelo couldn't help but laugh as he watched her race out and back down the dirt street, her coat flapping behind her like a flag. He rested a hand on his hip, taking his time watching her go.

It had been a very long time since he'd seen her so full of life, and he felt very confident in his decision. He trusted her more than just about any other person in town, and he knew her to be a hard worker. Lately, she had just been tucked away, both literally and emotionally. He could tell it from the way she cracked under the slightest pressure, the way she just now exploded at a seemingly casual letter. Something else was hiding beneath her crust.

As curious and concerned as he was, Kelo didn't press. He never would. He just wanted her cracks to fade, her trauma to heal. He only ever wanted the best for her. Now, he gave her purpose, a job to do, a job she could be proud of. His gaze softened, almost darkened as she disappeared down the street, eagerly knocking on Quince's door as if in a panic. He hoped this would help her. He hoped it would be enough to pull her back from the ledge. But with Quince beside her now, he smiled. Kelo knew that Adolpha, eventually, would be alright.

He slowly turned, satisfied, and walked back into the abode. Exasperated, he lifted the chair for a second time.

Quince opened the door, a bit confused, and Adolpha was glad that she was home. She hadn't wanted to run around looking for her so early in the morning.

"What is going on?"

"News," Adolpha said, as if she had no air to explain. Her expression was something wild, a mix of excitement and concern. She appeared frazzled, almost frantic.

"...Okay...?" Quince spoke with uncertainty, but she didn't seem nervous. She wore a raised eyebrow, a suspicious gleam lingering in the blue of her eyes.

Adolpha managed to calm her quaking nerves, slowly walking into the familiar, warm cottage. No fire was lit on the warm day, but lanterns flickered, emitting an orange glow across the rug and plush sofas. Adolpha sat down, and Quince followed, shutting the door behind her where Adolpha had just bursted through.

"Where's your parents?"

"Working," Quince said plainly, sitting down beside her on the comfortable cushions. "What is going on?" Her face still wore that confused and curious expression. Adolpha sighed, staring at the smooth coffee table in front of her.

"Mayor Kelo gave me this." She still held the scroll in her hands, but only now did Quince pay it mind. She handed it to Quince, and she took it with dark, tender hands, slowly unravelling the yellowed paper. She read it, eyes scanning and widening slightly. Surprised, but not concerned. Not afraid, not worried. Just... a bit surprised. After a bit of heavy silence, Quince rolled the paper up and set it on the table in front of her knees. Her features softened slightly.

"I'm happy for them," she said, but her voice was unusually tender, unusually quiet. Something else lingered there, and Adolpha knew it immediately, for she was so familiar with grief.

"It's okay," Adolpha comforted her, but she didn't believe the words even as she said them. "They will come and visit us." Without thinking, she placed a hand on Quince's, as if that could fix everything.

"I know," Quince said. She never broke, never let the floodgates open. Her eyes remained hardened and steady, never teary, never blurry. Adolpha wondered how she could do it, how she could be so brave, so strong and resilient. Everything that Adolpha ever wanted to be. "Was there anything else?" Quince asked, finally looking up at Adolpha.

"Oh, yes!" Adolpha chirped, suddenly remembering the good news she'd been given. Her body practically glowed from the joy of it, something that felt wrong and unusual given the circumstances. Still, it felt good, and Adolpha allowed it to fill her, to brim at her edges and overflow. "Kelo gave me a job. I didn't even have to ask!"

"As a guard?" Quince asked, face brightening.

"Yes! Not just any, but the leader of his guardsmen."

Quince laughed, "Oh, Adolpha! I'm so happy for you!" This time, she said it with such brightness, so genuinely. She wrapped her arms around Adolpha, pulling her close in their excitement. But the second that her warmth touched Adolpha, Adolpha's heart jumped. She took in Quince's fresh pine scent, her warmth, and her weight, inhaling deeply. Quince lifted her head from the crook of Adolpha's neck, a bright grin on her face. Then, she pulled away. Adolpha didn't move for a second, lingering, as if the moment was too fresh to become a memory yet. Something felt hollow within her, but she kept it hidden behind her mask of a smile. The warmth was replaced with cold, and the cold that now touched her skin felt brittle and biting, despite how warm it really was. Yet, her face felt hot, blistering hot, her cheeks pink.

Something she hadn't considered before now was what having a job entailed. Being a guardsmen was busy, with long days. Adolpha wouldn't have the same time on her hands as she did before now. She wouldn't be able to do this, to burst into Quince's house unspoken, knowing she would find her there. And Quince would not be able to find Adolpha or greet her at any given time. No more late-night romping as wolves, no more getting wine drunk whenever they felt like it.

Some things felt like they moved too fast, and yet it had been months since their return, and Adolpha still hadn't really settled back in to their home. She considered that Ajax and Danica likely felt the same. It was no wonder they had suddenly found a home in Adam's Peak. They had a purpose there, a life.

She thought of her daughter. She missed May, and wanted to tell her the good news. But like Ajax and Danica, May had built a life for herself— all by herself— and it was a life that didn't include Adolpha. Adolpha suddenly thought, with a harsh, gutting pang, that things had been so much easier, so much simpler during their time of travelling. When May was far away from her, Adolpha didn't have to constantly worry. She didn't have to consider why May hadn't come to see her, or why she didn't want to see her. She didn't have to make excuses for her daughter, trying desperately to reason why she didn't want to see her. Being somewhere else, somewhere far away, the answer to her constant tumble of questions would always be the same:

It is too far for her to travel.

And that would be a valid reason, an easy reason. Much easier for Adolpha to accept than considering that May simply didn't want to see her anymore. And as sure as the sun rising, Adolpha understood what she wanted her first task to be. She wanted to help with the post-war efforts, and she needed to get away for a while. When her eyes focused again on the present, Quince was looking at her with those wide eyes expectantly, like she had noticed the twitch of Adolpha's jaw, preparing to say something that would make the air denser.

And she did.

"How would you feel," Adolpha suggested slowly, "If I took a trip to Jasper?"

"Jasper?" Quince asked, taken aback by the suddenness. "Why would you do that?"

"I could take a few guards, some mules with supplies," Adolpha shrugged, trying to play it off as a careless suggestion. But Quince knew that she was considering it heavily. Adolpha's blue eyes were focused on it, her lips pressed close together in concentration. "They could use the help. I know they could. And I want to help."

"I'll go with you," Quince said immediately.

Now, it was Adolpha's turn to be taken aback. Her eyes widened a little, and she suddenly was aware of how close Quince sat beside her. Their legs were pressed together, warmth seeping between them, and Quince's whole body was turned towards Adolpha.

"I'm not sure," Adolpha said hesitantly.

"I am," Quince said, smiling. "I want to help, too."

"You do so much here. Your family's farm is important..."

"My parents would be fine taking care of it for a little while. They already do most of the work, anyways. And you need someone you can trust to go with you."

"I'll have the guardsmen," Adolpha protested, but she wasn't quite sure why she was protesting. Of course she wanted Quince to come with her. More than anything, she wanted that.

"But you don't know them yet," Quince pointed out. "I'll go. I want to help."

Adolpha sighed, easily defeated, "Okay."

• • •

Adolpha had gone to Mayor Kelo the next day. It seemed like it was becoming a daily habit, visiting him unannounced. He never seemed to mind. She sat in that chair— the same one she'd knocked over twice the previous day— while he sat behind his desk.

"I've decided what I want to do," Adolpha said plainly, flatly. "Yesterday, I walked River's Bed and our posts. I think it's well secured, right now, given the circumstances. But I want to visit Jasper. I want to see how they're fairing these days, and I want to bring them some supplies and bring with me a few guards." Quieter, "And Quince."

Kelo nodded thoughtfully, a hand touching his stubble, which had begun to grow out grey, "I see." The silence settled for only a moment before he decided. "Alright. This sounds like a good idea. I'm sorry, but I can't go with you."

She raised an eyebrow, "I wasn't going to ask you to."

"I know. But I want to know how Jasper is doing, as well. Make sure they have enough supplies to get through the dry season. And—" he paused, "I don't think you need to bring the guardsmen with you."

Adolpha stiffened, feeling that familiar, fluttering nervousness fill her chest, "Sorry?"

"Jasper won't need guardsmen. They will need food, tools, farmers and mules. You can ride there on mules, in a line. Load them with supplies. You can come back as a wolf. It will be faster that way. Stay as long as they need you to."

"We can't spare any farmers," Adolpha said.

He nodded, "I know. But we can spare a few crops for them, just to make sure they have enough." He sighed gruffly, and continued with an air of seriousness that Adolpha wasn't used to, "There's something else."

"What is it?" She sat forward in her chair, concerned. The anxiety that crept up on her was fast and nauseating.

"I want you to travel past Jasper, to... Virulent's Forest."

Adolpha's eyes widened. The swirling emotions all fell to her feet. She could almost hear them clatter on the floor as she was left completely empty and drained of blood.

"We want to renew it. The people there are good people, Adolpha. They had been living in tyranny. Now, we're under just as much of an obligation to take care of them as we are of Jasper and Adam's Peak. Jasper will help you with this task. They want to reestablish the town, renaming it Jillian's Hope if the Saurions there agree. But they will need people. They need you."

Adolpha didn't even have a moment to catch her breath. She shot up from the chair, the poor wooden thing clattering to the floor, and raced out from the building. The walls had suddenly closed in on her, suffocating her, and the blast of fresh, warm air from outside felt like life itself. Adolpha gasped, hands on her knees, mouth gaping like she couldn't make the air go down. Her eyes watered, her lungs aching as if she were drowning once again. No matter how fast she took in air, it expelled just as quickly, leaving her breathless and lightheaded.

Not wanting to make a scene in the street, Adolpha raced. She had no idea where to go, and her brain was spiralling too fast for her to decide or think about it. Instead, her clothes fell behind her as she leapt and landed on all fours, muzzle stretching and paws thudding as fast as they could take her. Kelo bursted out after her, "Adolpha!" But did not pursue. Soon, the red wolf had sped down the street and disappeared somewhere out of sight. Leaning down to gather her clothes, Kelo shook his head, sighing frustratedly.

The wolf panted, tongue hanging out longer than what she thought possible. A bit of white foam formed at the edges of her black lips, a side effect from the intense, panicked breathing. Eyes flickered from left to right in a fast sequence, her chest heaving and legs feeling as though they were on fire. Her mind continued to spiral, so fast and blurry she couldn't seem to place a single coherent thought. But she could easily place the emotions, tumbling about like sharpened rocks within her. Fear, hate, frustration. All of the things she'd felt during their travels. Desperation, grief. It filled her, numbing her limbs, aching in her core.

Slowly, her paws came to a stop, and the wolf sat somewhere she didn't recognise. Trees rose around her, and a distant stream tinkled beautifully. But the roar in her ears drowned it out.

She sat on her tail in the yellowed grass, panting, the tears getting lost as darkened lines in the red agouti fur on her cheeks. Her large ears pinned against her broad head, as if that could ground the thoughts or stop them from spinning around.

Then, the betrayal settled in like red hot fire. How could he? How could he even suggest that she return to Virulent's Forest? After all that had happened, how could that have even been a thought in his mind? It didn't matter if they changed the name to Jillian's Hope. It didn't matter if the Saurions were good people. It didn't matter that Adolpha was the one who had saved them, who had given them all new lives.

Ware died there, in that forest, surrounded by those pine trees. Yakob had died there, after haunting it, after haunting her for so long. Virulent had been slain there by her own bloody hands. And Nautis... The devil himself once seemed to rule that part of the woods. There was no salvaging it, no saving those damned people who once followed him, who once fed off of him in the name of power. And Adolpha's largest betrayal had occurred in those very woods, the moment she realised Mother Nature had led her astray.

Now, she only had her friends and her sister, but even they were beginning to leave her. After all that Adolpha had done to save Danica, and now, in the aftermath, Danica was gone. And for what? To pursue some remnants of what could have been a normal life? Ajax was gone now, too. He'd abandoned not only Adolpha, but his very own sister, brother, and parents, too.

Adolpha's daughter had all but abandoned her. Granted, Adolpha felt deeply as though she deserved it for all of the ache and pain she had caused her precious daughter. But that realisation didn't make the agony any easier for her to bear. The weight threatened to push her into the dirt, and her sobs came out as half-formed whines and whimpers in her wolf self.

But her hung head lifted, ears pricking to a sound behind her. The wolf peered up with wide, glassy eyes at a black wolf standing behind her. The tall, cattail grass parted like a grand entrance for the dark wolf. She stared right back at Adolpha with dark blue eyes, gaze soft and understanding. The silence stretched between them like a thread pulled taught. It tightened, luring them closer together.

With her wet muzzle, Adolpha stood and took a hesitating step towards Quince. The black wolf took her own soft, padding steps towards the red. Words should have been spoken, but neither canine could bring themselves to even breathe. The air still hung, dense with all that was left unsaid. That familiar, rhythmic beat of Adolpha's heart echoed in her ears like a panicked drum. Her paws felt like they didn't touch the ground at all, instead floating.