#this gave me motivation to write tysm /gen pos

[spinnysocks]

TRICK OR TREAT !!!!!!!!

YIPPEE!!! have a wolfquest oc thing :]

Blackwell closed her eyes, contently wrapped around her five little pups. She could feel her mate's fur against hers where their backs touched, the soft rise and fall of his body comforting. Sleep was quick after a long day of reinforcing territory.

In her deepest dreams, Blackwell saw the stars shimmer before her. They were so close, as if they had come down from the sky to greet her, yet so far away. The space around her was painted the darkest of nights; nothing was distinguishable but the stars, until shapes began to appear around them. First, a wolf just like her. And another. Pups appeared. Many of them. Then, as if the moon had cast its light over some shady moor, dozens of shapes were in front of her. Bison, mule deer, moose, pronghorn and, of course, elk. Young, elders and those in the prime of their life. Eagles soared — golden and bald. Figures of coyotes howled into the night. Foxes trotted. Cougars crept. Bears stood on their hind legs. Cubs stayed close behind their mothers. Hares scattered, looking like the stars themselves with their pure-white winter coats. Beavers carried their branch loads between their teeth. Every creature of the land was laid before the black wolf's very eyes. She stared at the first wolf and herself stared back. This different her had stars in her eyes, a youthful look long forgotten by Blackwell's current self. In that moment, she could feel her age; her legs were bony, her muzzle was grey and her vision was beginning to dim. The stars were telling her — your time is up.

Blackwell did not expect to wake up. One of her pups licked her muzzle and she opened her eyes. The pup was prancing in place, whining and begging for food — but the adult wolf had no more to regurgitate for her. Even if her world was going dark, she had a family to look after that couldn't go on without her. Blackwell glanced at her mate. Sentry was up and playing with his pups, playbowing as an invitation to chase and running from them. When they begged him for food, he had no more in his reserves either. Blackwell stood. Her time wasn't up just yet.

Hunting an elk and chasing away a bear had gone faster than she expected. Albeit, they woke up in the night and it was almost dawn now, but the old wolf couldn't feel the time passing anymore. Newly-named Dahlia looked at her mother and Blackwell looked back before grinning at her little pup. It was time to say goodbye. She licked Dahlia's face submissively and cuddled her larger body up next to her, the pup whining in delight. Blackwell did the same for Almond, Jupiter, Sentinel and Glacier. They all wagged their tails at her, innocently unaware of how their lives were going to change. Blackwell chose not to worry as she approached her mate, wagging her tail low. Sentry immediately picked up on her lack of confidence and licked her face, nuzzling against her. They stayed that way for a few moments before Blackwell pulled away; her mate didn't understand either, he was too young to see wolves go from old age. She gave him a final lick before trotting away from her den, her family, her life. Sentry watched her retreating form, blinded by the rising sun — he must've known she'd be okay alone.

The black wolf followed the sunrise until it led her to a field, filled to the brim with spring's colourful flowers. Blackwell found herself sinking easily into the soft grass as she laid down. Instantly, her life came before her in her mind. She remembered Ranger, her first mate, and she remembered their first litter of pups. Grief pooled into her heart again as she thought about how many of them were in the stars before her — none were gone from illness or disease, rather brutally lost their precious lives in a battle or a hunt while raising their own litters. Mouse and Stag weren't even granted pups of their own. The only one to survive to four years was Everest, but even she had so many troubles that she couldn't bare to have more pups than her first litter. At least she was still alive with her mate, somewhere out there. At least her pups weren't left with only one parent. Blackwell prayed that her grandpups were safe, that maybe she'd greet them with wagging tails and licking muzzles if they had already travelled to the stars. She pushed past the thoughts of her first litter — she couldn't grieve over them and them only when she had five more. Many of her later pups didn't even make it to summer. And yet, the seasons kept moving every time she lost. She kept surviving, even when Ranger did not wake up from his sleep. She kept moving, even when grief swallowed any affection she could have for her new mate whole. She kept living, till she learned to love what she had here and now. A sixth litter — something most wolves could only dream of. A blessing. A piece of joy, just like when her litter before that accepted Sentry as their new father. When she could finally open up her heart again and allow the love of her family to flow in. That was life to her.

The sun rose higher but her vision grew darker. Her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. She closed her eyes and she was not afraid. She was peaceful, happy and glad to live such a life.

i just. wrote all of this in one sitting o7