April 5, 2004
Over two months have passed since Rock and Duskwater left the holt to parts unknown. A long period with no contact from the two brings about fears and unanswered questions.
Firemoss bolted awake. Her body was covered with a sheen of cold sweat, and her breath caught like jagged shards of firestone in the back of her throat. Her eyes darted around the darkened room in a panic as images from a recurring nightmare burned in her mind. It took long moments for her to get her bearings; to realize where she was.
**Duskwater!?** she sent, willing her mind to cover the vast distance that now separated her from her missing lifemate. Her mind touched nothing. She received no response. She hadn't received a response to her sendings for nearly a moons' dance and a half.
The pale glowing firemoss next to the plant shaper's bed did little to bring her mind back to reality. The darkness in the den still felt oppressive and frightening, so she groped for a stub of a tallow candle from near her bedside and lit it instead. She garnered no warmth or comfort from the flickering flame or from the gentle reminder it provided that she was safe at home.
"Safe," she hissed as her heart thundered in her chest. "Is Duskwater safe?"
"Mother?" The voice came soft from the darkness at the bottom of the small stair leading down to Clover's room. At first Firemoss thought she was hearing things, but when she looked down the archway toward Clover's bed, his jade eyes were wide open and twinkled at her in the candlelight.
Firemoss wrapped herself in a bedfur and softly made her way down to her son. She set the tallow candle in a small hollow nearby and, mustering a smile, sat down on the side of Clover's bed.
"Did I wake you?" she whispered. She didn't dare send for fear she'd reveal how shaken up she was. She kept her voice low so as not to disturb Wolfstrider who was sleeping in his room upstairs.
Clover nodded, and he looked frightened. Firemoss reached over to brush a stray wisp of hair from his face. "I'm sorry. It's all right. I just had a bad dream, that's all."
"Did you dream about Father?"
Firemoss blinked. She hadn't expected that question, and wasn't sure how to answer it. She didn't want to tell him the truth, because it would make him worry. If she said yes, she would reveal her own misgivings about Duskwater being gone. Instead, she opted to avoid the question altogether.
"It doesn't matter, Dimples. It was only a dream. It's still early yet - try to go back to sleep."
She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand and went to rise, but Clover reached for her arm. He wouldn't let her go that easily. Other people had dreams that told them things, he knew. Dreamshadow had told him once that dreams could be more than pictures you saw when you were asleep. Even though he was terribly afraid that his mother would tell him news he didn't want to hear, he had to know.
"Mother," he implored, "did something happen to father? Is he all right?" Concern creased his brow. "Will he ever be coming back?"
Firemoss felt a pang in her stomach at the sight of her son's worry. She searched inside herself to try to find the right answers to his questions. She wished she could think of something that would make Clover feel better and ease his mind, but she could find nothing. No soothing, comforting answers seemed to exist.
She blinked back tears and finally spoke. "Your father and Rock are far away. Far enough away now that even strong sending can't reach them. No one really knows where they are, or when they will be back."
In the pregnant pause that followed Firemoss' words, her son's demeanor changed. Worry melted into a different emotion - a cross between anger and sadness. Firemoss instinctively went to put her arms around her son, but he shrugged her away. Instead, he rolled on his side to avoid both her comforting and her gaze.
"Why did they have to leave?" Clover blurted. "Why did they go so far away that we can't talk to them anymore? Doesn't Father know that we need him, too?" There was sorrow in his voice, and Firemoss knew he was crying even though she couldn't see his face.
"He -" Firemoss began, but her voice broke before she could even begin. Clover's questions were breaking her heart, even though she had been wondering the same things herself. She stopped, biting her lip and desperately trying to hold in tears of her own. She couldn't cry now. She needed to be strong for her son. She squeezed her eyes closed, took a deep breath, and tried to clear her mind.
It hurt that she had no answers to her son's questions. She didn't know why Duskwater and Rock had been gone for so long now. She didn't understand why her mate chose to be out there when he surely knew his family needed him here. Perhaps that was a selfish thought. Perhaps it was wrong to feel angry that her mate was out comforting Rock when he was so depended on here. But it tore her apart inside to see her son crying like this because Duskwater was gone.
"Be strong, Dimples," she hoarsely whispered, wanting to say something, anything to make him feel better. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he kept himself turned away. With her own lip trembling, she willed her strength to him. "Everything will be all right. You are at home and safe and are loved. And your father loves you, too."
Clover said nothing more, but his body still shook from crying. Firemoss could only sit there helplessly as her son's tears quieted down to sniffles and he had cried himself back to sleep.
Firemoss let her own tears fall then, when she was sure no one else would see them. She sat for a long while at her son's bedside and wept while she gazed down at him. She didn't want Clover to worry. If she could, she'd take his worry herself. But even though she wanted to shelter him with her very being, she knew she couldn't. Not this time.
She finally rose from her vigil at her son's bedside, feeling drained, and plodded back up to her own bedroom. Movement from the back den caught her attention. Wolfstrider was standing at the doorway, gazing sympathetically at the plant shaper. Her own eyes met Wolfstrider's for a moment; she opened her mouth to say something, but fell silent. Instead, her gaze fell to the floor. She felt hollow as she walked to her bed, lay down, and snuffed out the candlelight.