Trapped (Robin x Lazarus)

He was lucky to be alive, but he wasn’t sure how long it would last.

An autumn thunder storm had swept across the lands the night he left Fellfang territory behind him. It was mountainous around here, and the booms echoed so loud off the peaks that it hurt his ears. The black wolf wasn’t easily spooked, but these were not normal times for the runaway Arynian Ranger. He was paranoid, confused, his mind reeling from a conversation with the mate of Seven’s late father. And now a thunderstorm, the one thing that Seven feared the most, chased him from known territory and into the uncharted wilds. Eluding once again, just like she said, only this time permanently. It seemed that she haunted him everywhere...

Finally he saw a cave by a cliff base and dove inside. It was small, but it worked to shelter him from the wind and rain, and the thunder was muffled by the thick stone walls. He laid down by the entrance, watching the rain outside…

He didn’t know when he had dozed off, but he was abruptly awoken by a rumbling. Geez, that thunder is insane… he thought, groaning in annoyance and covering his head with his paws. But the rumbling continued. And it didn’t stop. It grew louder and soon the ground began to shake. Pebbles and dirt showered his head and he looked up, realizing in the nick of time that he had to move. He scrambled backward as larger rocks began to fall from the roof and soon a cloud of dust blinded him and the roar of falling stone filled the world.

Next thing he knew he was on the ground as the dust began to settle, and it was almost completely dark save for a few shafts of light coming from what was now a huge pile of rocks blocking the entrance to his cave. He got to his paws, gasping as he felt sharp pain in his forepaw. Must’ve banged it… he thought, looking down at his sore paw mournfully. Then he looked up at his situation. Rocks… he tried to shoulder some aside, to move some, to do anything, but after getting past a few the rest were either too big to move or they were wedged in place by rocks outside. He limped up to where there was a little window to the rest of the world between some rocks. It was day by now, the rain had stopped. He stuck his good foreleg through the opening, trying to feel where he could move some rocks aside so he could better make his way out. There seemed to be none where he could reach. He pulled his foreleg back in and stuck his nose out. He couldn’t fit more than his face out of the hole. “Hey! Hey, anyone out there?” Lazarus called, hoping some good samaritan could be nearby. He breathed in the fresh air as he waited for a reply. But none ever came...

It went on for days, perhaps three, filled with pacing in the dark, and then uselessly shoving at some rocks, and then calling out for help. Boredom and fear was a strange and awful combination. He had nothing to do in here… and also nothing to eat. Some puddles from the rainstorm had helped him with thirst at first, but they were dried up by now. His forepaw was feeling better luckily, a persistent throb more than a sharp pain, but Lazarus was in no mood to look on the bright side, so the pain really bothered him. He had gotten trapped on a ledge once, in the heart of Aryn territory, and had been helped up by a passing packmate. But he was here, miles from home… miles from anyone. He’d die here… and no one would even notice. Not until weeks had passed and his pack began to realize that he should have returned by now. He hadn’t thought of it before, but then they’d probably send search parties out for him. He’d be long dead by then. And if all had gone well, I’d be alive and well and they would still search… That made him feel pretty selfish. He hadn’t even thought about anyone looking for him. For the first time he hoped that Seven would tell his parents what he had done. Then no one would waste the time.

He stared out of the little hole. What he wouldn’t give to see Athena or Daphne or Lawson come bounding around the corner… heck even his father! Any of their familiar eyes he could look into and know that it’d be alright, that they’d be getting help, that everything could go back to normal… Nothing’s normal anyway. Maybe this is the best time to go. I had a good run, but there’s nothing for me there anymore, nothing for me anywhere. But as the time went by, hungry and lonely and hurting, the looming threat of death creeping ever nearer, he slowly began to wonder if there really was nothing. Because no matter what he said, or what he thought, every other issue he had was dwarfed by how much he didn’t want to die. And there was only one place his mind kept going back to, one place where he wished more than anywhere else to be right now. And it was the exact place he had left behind…

With his nose poked out that little hole, he did what he did many times every day, howling out, “Hello!! Anyone out there? A little help! Please?... please…” His voice would fade away hopelessly at the end and he would gaze out his little window, staring at a world as empty as the sky. Or as empty as Teva’s brain, he snickered in amusement, thinking about saying that to her, and imagining the look on her face…

Similar memories or imaginings of his family and pack were what kept him going. He probably looked insane to a passerbyer, muttering and smirking to himself (though what he wouldn’t give to see a passerbyer anyway). Not for the first time, he imagined Seven bounding through the trees and coming right up to him, ‘How’d you get yourself into this mess, Silver Butt?’ she said, her beautiful blue eyes alight with laughter. “You know me…” he’d answer his imaginary Seven with a grin. When he closed his eyes it was almost as if she really was there. But of course when he would open his eyes she would be gone again, and his smile as well, so he kept his eyes closed for a bit longer, savoring the fantasy…

---

The sound wasn’t really discernable and Robin wasn’t even sure what creature had made it. She stood frozen in the cover of the edge of the wood, staring out into the sunlight, a spindly rabbit carcass in her jaws. She waited for it to come again, eyes searching the area around her without turning her head. When it didn’t come, she continued her path back to the fox den she called home. The small wolf had a lot on her mind, not the least of which: the impending threat of winter. What was she going to do? Her last winter was spent with a skilled huntress who fed her and kept her warm. She managed to keep herself alive on her own throughout the summer, but it all just sounded so much more survivable with a pack to keep her going.

The sound came again, louder this time. She could tell it was a distinct yell, but the words were garbled and indecipherable, lost over distance. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. She picked up her pace, eyes darting between the trees to her right and the slopes that lead to the mountains on her right.

She stopped again when it came the third time. It was saying something new, there weren’t as many dips or turns in tone. She still couldn’t understand the call, but it hung in the air, riding on breath of desperation. Her thick brow furrowed in confusion. No one would be advertising their whereabouts like that if they were chasing after her, or anything for that matter. The sound was louder still than the previous two cries; perhaps she was closing in on it. Slowly now, quietly, she continued her path, pivoting her slightly rounded ears every which way to catch any more possible shouting.

The hollow echo hit her almost directly, having swept down from a point on the mountain just to her left. The voice was clearer, she could hear the timbre, but it didn’t have the thrust of the first few outcries. Eyes straining, she scanned the slope from bottom to top for any sign of another wolf. No one.

Her grip tightened on the rabbit and she expanded her field of search, looking for any other wolves or animals that might also be seeking the source of the sound. She half-expected another wolf to come peeling out from behind a crevice at a full-sprint towards its source, because she could have sworn she heard--

“Please…”

The faintest so far, but dead ahead. It was. It was cries for help. So why wasn’t anyone coming to help them?

She folded her ears back and continued to wait for someone else to heed the call and step in. The young she-wolf was no rescuer, nor any kind of hero. Her nature made her question the sincerity of that pleading, and she wasn’t about to risk her life to bum-rush into an ambush, even if only to satisfy her curiosity.

Robin had been working on her impulse control, but it still needed work. She did not reflect on this fact as she made her way up the mountain. Her mind had managed to wander back to winter, of all things, as she made her way towards the suspected source of the voice. Stopping every now and then, she scanned the areas hidden from her view down below, but found no signs of life beyond the usual chipmunk tracks.

“Help…” the feeble cry was practically above of her. Black and red fur bristled in surprise and she stared into the face of the mountain, unblinking. Switches of long wild grass blew in the gentle breeze and she tried to block them from her mind. She tried to see anything hidden in the rocks, the shift of a pelt, the flick of an ear, the glint of a nose…

A shadow moved in a deep crevice several leaps up and to her left. Swiftly, her wide paws carried her to a landing above the opening of the crevice. She tried to inspect where the wolf might be able to come out after her, but the hole didn’t look big enough for even her to squeeze through. Out of the occupant’s direct line of sight, she laid the rabbit down to speak.

“Who goes there?” she questioned in a deep, gravelly voice, an imitation of what she thought a tough wolf sounded like. She sprinkled in some flavor to suggest she wasn’t alone: “What do you want from us?”

---

Lazarus’ ear twitched when he heard a noise. The wind no doubt. He opened his eyes anyway, glancing around the outside world, or what little visibility he had of it. Nothing. He let out a sigh. Freedom is so close… yet only my paw can reach it… he mused in dismay, sticking his forepaw out of the hole just to feel the breeze on it again. He heard another noise, and yanked his forepaw back into his prison. Could that sound be… movement? A day ago, maybe he would have been howling hopefully to the potential stranger, and he had indeed done more than a few times. But it had proved to be nothing. By now he dismissed almost anything, unwilling to get his hopes up just for them to be dashed again. It wasn’t until a voice spoke that he realized just how much he was expecting to die here, because he honestly did not believe it for a second. His ears strained forward in surprise, half expecting that he was just hearing things. When the voice continued to demand what he wanted from ’us,’ finally the black male was able to shake off his shock and answer. “I-uh help! I want help!!” he replied. A new energy filled him and he used his uninjured forepaw to scrabble at the inside stones, “I’m stuck in here and can’t get out!” He didn’t have much care for who they were, or if they could be dangerous. All he knew was that maybe this tough-sounding female and her crew could get him out of this mess! His silver eyes were shining with joy as he pressed his face against his little hole, trying to catch a glimpse of his hopeful rescuers.

---

The desperation that spilled from the tiny hole in the rocks was unmistakable. The fervor and apparent surprise with which he responded was unpracticed and unabashed. Robin folded her ears back, realizing this was no ploy and she did indeed feel an obligation to help the poor soul. At least is most likely wasn’t a trap.

A wiser wolf would have been able to tell her that her gullibility and suspicion worked at the wrong ends of her nerves. Everything about this situation that screamed a wolf was in need of help still made the black and red wolf wary, whereas the story of a phantom muskrat that plucked the hairs from your butt while you slept would have been logged as unequivocal fact in Robin’s book. As a result of her inverted truth-sensory system, she kept on her guard as she came around to the front of the cave for a better glimpse at the hole from a safe distance.

“If I--we--” she corrected herself quickly, “help you out of there, do you promise we won’t be harmed?” She knew there was likely no way he could guarantee her safety, but that was what the rabbit was for. Instead of eating her prey the moment she caught it, Robin often toted it with her until she reached closer to home. She had never come face-to-face with another wolf on her hunts, but just in case, she devised a plan to drop whatever she was carrying as a red herring. She could run faster without it, and she hoped a fresh kill would be enticing enough to distract another wolf into eating it rather than running her down.

Still, she attempted to tease more information from him to satisfy her worries. “How long have you been trapped? Hasn’t anyone come looking for you?”

---

Finally his hopeful rescuer strode into view. She was black and red, small with round features and bright amber eyes. He smiled broadly at her in greeting, his tail wagging hopefully. She still looked uncertain. But where were the others? Eh, they must just be to the side, Lazarus didn’t care to try and analyze this situation, or size up her words or the meaning behind them. All he knew was that she was his one and only chance at survival. “Harm you? After you save my life? Of course I won’t.” he said, getting a bit more confused. If there were numbers with her, would she be so wary of a single trapped wolf? And he thought back to her misspeak at the very beginning of the sentence. Maybe she was actually alone. Her fear made more sense. After all, she could barely see what he looked like, and no wolf could guess his skill or intentions by just his voice.

He calmed down a bit, realizing he would have to gain a bit of trust before she would offer her help. If she can help… She was a small wolf. But many of the rocks were small too. He hoped that she could shove enough aside for him to be able to push his way out. And if that didn’t work then well… he’d worry about that later. First he had to get that chance from her. “I’ve been trapped for a few days now…” he said. It took a moment for him to go on. He didn’t know who she was or if she knew of Aryn. But surely declaring himself as a Ranger would make him more trustworthy than saying he was a roving loner with no one to care…? But then what if she saw someone in Aryn later, and reported this incident and his pack put together that it was him? He was far enough off course from Fellfang that this would point rather strongly to his desertion. If he told her that he was just some loner maybe he would be less trustworthy but then at least she couldn’t make any unwanted connections. And also this could be his chance to officially restart his life. After all, this loner female doesn’t know him, he could tell her anything he wants to be and to her that would be him. And from now on he could be the new him, he could have the new life he was dreaming of…

But what life..? What life have I been dreaming of? There was only one life on his mind as he laid waiting to die. But he couldn’t go back, not after what he said to Seven, not after what he had done to his friends and family. But maybe, if this wolf did see an Aryn wolf and tell them about him, it would be for the best. Then they can know where he is, and what he’d done, and they would know not to waste their thoughts on him any longer…

And then of course there is still the fact that this probably sounds better. “I’m a Ranger of Aryn. No one would expect me home for over a week or more.”

---

The black and russet wolf’s plump tail hung limply behind her as she tried to size him up through the hole in the darkness, but she could not find enough of his frame in the view. But when he expressed apparent ignorance at the thought of harming her -- not because of her supposed backup, but because of her role as heroine -- she visibly exhaled and her demeanor changed. Boastful chest and exaggerated hackles deflated substantially, and her head hung to straighten her spine in a more submissive but comfortable position.

“Bummer,” she mumbled half-sincerely, not backtracking to pinpoint just what about his brief soliloquy was such a ‘bummer.’ Her interest in what he had to say, despite having prompted it, was immediately lost. She was too busy solving the stone puzzle in her head.

Golden eyes flitted across the pile of rocks that had apparently trapped him. Rockslide...  Cave-in, she ascertained with regrettable confidence. During her entire summer and fall living in Heyl’s cave system, she was taught time and time again how best to recover from a cave-in situation. But she never thought she’d actually encounter one that wasn’t staged. Her toes tingled with realized anticipation: there was work to do.

Quickly she set about testing the heap: some smaller rocks were easy to move out of the way, but others suitably weighted for her size were wedged beneath larger stones that supported the haphazard pile.

Still prodding about, her face was nearly level with the peephole but she did not offer eye contact when she said absently, “Sorry, did you say your name was Ranger? I missed that bit.” Titles did nothing to impress her these days and, like a juvenile, she made a point to rub others’ noses in her distastes. Turning away, she could not help the grin that crept up on her. For once in a long while, she held the upper paw, and it felt good. But the situation was dire, and she knew feeling like top-dog wouldn’t last if she couldn’t actually free this ‘Ranger’ from his stone prison. Moreover, she had to own up to her dishonesty. Casually, of course. It was no big deal, really. Right?

“And, oh yeah. I fudged the truth a little; you’ve just got me to get you out of there.” She hoped framing her willingness to still attempt his rescue might stave the contempt for her bluff. “Can’t be too careful,” she half-explained. The little wolf stepped back and took another hard look at the work yet to do.“...This might take a little while.”

---

He laughed half heartedly at her response to his woes. “Heh, you don’t say,” he answered in amusement. Bummer was a good word for it. A good word for him in general, really. He watched her as she studied his predicament, testing rocks and shifting things. All the while he had his face shoved against his little window, watching her. She was rather close to him, he could see the folds in her forehead as she looked down at her work with focus. But she did not spare her deep amber eyes for even a glance up at him. His silver eyes followed her movements as best he could with his limited visibility, eager to watch her progress and gauge his likelihood of getting out of here.

He paused when she asked him to clarify, sorta missing the joke. “Uhh no Ranger is my task in Aryn. I’m… Lazarus.” he said as he watched her turn away. He bit his lip, wondering what she thought about all this, and if she could help. By now he had half-thought she might be alone anyway so it was no real surprise when she admitted as much. “Ah, well.” he replied with a shrug and an easy smile. An army of wolves would have been ideal, sure. But with his luck so far, he also was not going to take this stroke of luck for granted. There was a wolf here who wanted to help him. That didn’t have to happen, it didn’t seem likely to happen, but it had. He was given a second chance… hopefully.  He continued, “You’re way more than I thought I’d get.”

He nodded when she said it might take a while. “I’ll help how I can, but not much I can do, see…” he stuck his forepaw out of the hole then took it back in. He was long legged and thin, so his foreleg easily fit out as far as his elbow nearly. But little good that did if he couldn’t maneuver it. Still, good for the wolf to know in case he could somehow offer support in his own rescue efforts.  

---

She continued to puzzle over the rock structure, lip curling indelicately as she lost herself again in thought. Her ears pricked up more than usual when he repeated himself, satisfying her mild indulgence to put herself above him already. A smile weighted with guilt did not last long.
Robin turned when he offered a look at the reach of his forepaw from the alcove. From her vantage she could tell that it hung perhaps a bit weakly. He was spindly. “Well, Lazarus, Ranger of Aryn,” she facetiously imitated him with a mild snort, but said in a warmer tone, “You may want to keep all limbs inside your compartment for this.”

Without another word, she disappeared from his view.

Gone for several moments, she was not concerned for how her sudden, undeclared flight might have affected him so near to rescue. Well, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere.

Soon, soft shuffling and mildly-annoyed growling announced her return as she wrestled with a large tree branch on the rocks above Lazarus’s cozy abode. Twigs and sticks snapped as she stripped it nearly bare.

“Okayyyy-” Her face suddenly appeared in the hole, upside-down as she leaned over the ledge above, and their snouts briefly bumped. She pulled away nervously and tried again from a safer distance. “O-kay, I’m going to plug up this hole with this branch I found. Don’t, uh, let it poke your eye out.”

Having been blessed with her suspicious coat color and winning personality, puphood friends for Robin had been in short supply. Rocks, however, were never in short supply. As a pup and even as a juvenile she would spend hours toying alone with rocks on the steep mountain slopes of both Highvalley and Heyl. All things great and small fell prey to gravity’s inescapable clutches, but rocks were best (if only for their availability), and now she saw little to no difference in this scenario from her childhood pile-up, apart from the grander scale. Building small-scale mountains of her own, she would trigger their own mini-avalanches and watch them fall away, sometimes losing pieces forever. The key was near and dear to Robin’s way of life: the right leverage is an absolute must.

As it was, she could not help from prying, winter again returning to her mind as she bit off the last of the twigs for a smooth surface.

“So… how does Aryn feel about, you know, outsiders?” She attempted to play off her genuine curiosity by quipping, “I mean, how long do you have to be gone before they write you out of the family?” She snorted audibly at her own humor as she readied the branch.

---

Lazarus realized with her reminder that it was indeed a good idea to keep his legs within. Any shift in the rocks and my little window would close, anything within crushed. Hm… maybe I do need to think more about consequences, like Seven says... That was a lesson he was learning the very hard way… though he would not pay with his foreleg today, he decided as he tucked his front paws close to his belly.

Suddenly the loner was gone. Lazarus let the silence fall for a moment. Maybe she was just thinking, but after a few moments he stuck his nose to his window, trying to peer around and see her. But… was she gone? Naw, she seems cool, and she said she would help… she wouldn’t leave me. At some point, though, it was a second too long, and the young male felt a spark of panic alight in his chest. “Uh… you there?” he asked, his voice shaking a bit. There was no reply. He couldn’t handle the idea that she was gone, though, not after how very high she had thrown up his hopes by appearing and seeming invested in helping. But the seconds that stretched without her were hard on the black wolf. Did I dream it? Did she even exist? Ugh… maybe all for the better. He deserved it… after what he was doing to his pack. What he did to Seven. Besides almost killing her. He remembered the look in Moth’s eyes when she was told that her mate had died, the pain that was almost palpable. Would Seven grieve for me if she knew I was dead? Would she be as upset? Lazarus hated to think about that. So much had changed in their lives. But him dying… that would be the biggest change yet. There was something so massively final about it… it scared him even more than running away. I guess I always knew that I could go back… well I can’t. But I could. If I die, though, I really can’t. But even if he did survive and go back, there was no way it could ever be normal again after everything that happened. Right…? Either way, I have to make it out of here first, or else I don’t even have that option. He let out a whine, “Hey?” he called again, sounding a bit more urgent.

In all, Robin had been gone mere minutes, hardly any time at all, but it hadn’t felt that way. Lazarus perked his ears when he heard the sound of her labored growl and the snapping of twigs. He was as overjoyed and relieved as if it had been hours since he last saw her. “There you are!” he exclaimed, his tail wagging furiously within the shadows as he tried to catch a glimpse of her through his window, shoving his muzzle right up to it. But at the same time her face appeared and their noses bumped. He flinched back, blinking in surprise, then met her upside-down gaze with a smile, moving closer again as he listened to her. He nodded, backing up to avoid the branch. He was strangely anxious, though. That window had been his life for the past few days…  and now she would plug it? He gulped but was silent. Whatever she was planning, it was his only chance.
The loner’s casual conversation helped soothe him. Even if he didn’t like the subject. “Uh, well, outsiders infiltrated our pack and stole one of our members and nearly killed others so… I dunno Aryn’s a little uptight. But if you’re nice enough… my parents give most anyone a chance.” he said, wondering if she was looking to join. He licked his lips a bit as he went on, to address her clarification. “I dunno about me… I had a younger brother who disappeared. He wasn’t written out of the family even though no one expects him back by now...” They had grieved for Hawthorn when he disappeared one snow storm. It hadn’t been easy for anyone, even he remembered the grief well. Lazarus was different, though, he had written himself off, but unless Seven told someone then no one would know, and they would mourn for him just the same. He felt shame when he thought of it like that. Can I really do this to them?

---

The branch took careful maneuvering to position it near the hole. Many attempts were had to balance it as Robin brought it closer to the target. She listened to his story, ears flattening out on either side of her domed skull. It got dark immediately. The pack nearest her den-site, Vale, seemed to express a similar worldview of outsiders. The universe apparently did not want her joining ranks any time soon.

Briefly, Robin reminisced about the lap of luxury into which she was born, and longed for home - for her own extensive family. At the mention of his brother’s disappearance, she felt deeply for him - for both of them. She understood an intrinsic need to run your own course, and not look back. But the memory of incalculable loss left in his brother’s wake rolled over Lazarus to open his wounds anew. Robin had no idea what Lazarus’s brother’s timeline was like, but it might as well have been yesterday. To what magnitude had her parents felt it when she left them?

Then she remembered. There were still wolves of Highvalley searching for her. Whatever it felt like, it still plagued them to this day.

Standing there with the branch clenched in her teeth, she stood in silence, simmering in her own shame and regret.

An attempt to justify her own disappearance from her homepack fluttered through her mind and she said to the trapped wolf of his brother, “Yeah, well, maybe he’s better off wherever he is now. No offense, but if you couldn’t find him, maybe he doesn’t want to be found. Ever think of that?” she huffed, her pelt bristling. “Move back,” she ordered unnecessarily as she plugged the hole with the branch, blotting out the last of his light.

She rose her voice so he could her hear as she continued her rant while she climbed up to a stable surface beside the branch: “I mean, like, if he absolutely needed to, he’d come back, wouldn’t he?” Robin dared not offer an alternative scenario in which this Ranger wolf’s brother was dead. “Maybe he just… wants to go do his own thing,” she fumbled, her tone losing conviction.

A sigh escaped her, head hung in condemnation. Quietly, Robin murmured as a reflection on her own bullheadedness, “Or at least you’d think someone would care enough to actually try to find him…”

An ugly resolve welled up inside her, and she knew she would not be able to outrun it for much longer. Her toenails dug into the rock as she rose on her hind legs and braced herself on the branch. Lifting her voice so he could once again hear her, Robin finalized with bittersweet sincerity, “You’re lucky your packmates would come for you.”

She eased her weight down onto the branch which gave a weary groan. The thicker end within the cave began to lift up to dislodge one of the larger rocks.

---

Lazarus was a bit surprised by Robin’s reaction. She sounded quite… invested in his story, by the way she was defending his lost brother. “Maybe…” Lazarus said doubtfully. Due to his youth and disability, and apparent happiness in Aryn, the black wolf and most others likely assumed… the worst. But it was nice to think that the young wolf had found a new life, and was still out there somewhere, happy and safe.

He moved back when ordered, the light all but gone as she positioned the branch but still he could hear her words. She definitely by now sounded like she had more skin in this game than just a casual loner passing by. The emotion in her voice; defensive, frustrated, upset. Lazarus was a dense wolf, but he could gather enough from this wolf’s words that gave him clues about her story. “We still talking about my brother, here?” he said to himself with a nervous laugh, his voice quiet so it hopefully wouldn’t travel to the loner’s ears. Probably best if he didn’t risk upsetting the one wolf in the world who would help him. Either way… it sounds like she knows what it’s like to leave your family behind... Just like he did…. He had hoped that over time such guilt, frustration, sadness, would all pass away. It hasn’t for her… she’s hurting. The branch lurched as she prepared to do whatever it was she was planning. “You’re lucky your packmates would come for you.”

They would. They definitely would. Look at all they do for each other, all they’ve done for me… He thought of his pack, who had stood by him his whole life. They fed him and protected him, trained him and played with him, fought off deadly foes for him and yanked him up cliffs when he was stranded. Above anyone else he thought of Seven, how she was always right there when he needed her, when he didn’t need her, through everything. She played with him, talked with him, risked her life against a huge loner when he had been too stupid to keep his damned mouth shut. Still she stayed by him. Until he went too far… and then farther still. She had been special. She had set him apart from the rest. And look how he repaid her. How he repaid all of them. Maybe things would never be alright again in Aryn, but they would certainly never be alright out here either. At least there he could try… Out here things would change, everything all the time over and over again, just what he hated. Things would change there too, get better and worse, but one thing at least wouldn’t change… there were people who loved him. And who he loved. … I have to go back.

Feeling awash with despair and surprised to find tears in his eyes, he had to tell this loner who he really was, what he really was doing. How badly he messed up. “I-...!” The branch creaked again, the rocks began to shift. Whatever the she-wolf’s plan was, she was doing it right now. He scrambled back as rocks began to dislodge, in the dim light it was particularly hard to see which ones were about to come tumbling down, so he was just a little too slow to notice one rock that crashed toward him, making his ears ring and filling his world with chaos. A powerful blow, as hard and cold as ice, struck his side as he dove away, and he let out a piercing yelp, though he didn’t even hear the sound through the rumbles, and next thing he knew he was smack against the wall, panting for breath, a sharp pain in his side. His silver eyes were wide with fear as he watched the rock settle, giving way to an eerie calm with shafts of bright sunlight spilling into his little cave, filtering through the thick dust. “H-hey..!” he realized when he tried to call for her that he didn’t know the loner’s name. It didn’t help that it hurt to speak. He picked a random name based on what he had seen of her. “Hey, Red Face!?” His way out was finally clear but he was too scared to move, his side hurt and he didn't know what was wrong. But even above that right now he was desperate to see his savior in tact.

---

Robin leveraged the branch forcefully in an attempt to better control the spill, but the emotional wolf misjudged the stability of the cave-in. This was no pile of pebbles.
The branch nearly pulled out from under her as the rock it wedged against gave way and fell inward, to her horror. Nerves danced as she tried to readjust to prevent further cave-in, and the landing on which she was balanced began to give way, and did she just hear him cry out in pain?
Her mind released itself from her: she had no thought or judgments now, only actions.

Robin abandoned the branch as it sank away with the flow of the rocks, and saved her own skin by maneuvering above the cave entrance. The rocks and boulders clattered as they knocked each other around, some flying down the side of the mountain to continue their journey from the initial avalanche. The dust rose in a single huge billow like smoke, and hung there in the still and quiet air.

Lazarus’s voice cut through it feebly: Hey, Red Face!?

A year ago she would have fumed at the burning insult: now it was nothing more than an apt observation, and moreover a sign that he was still alright! Or so she’d hoped.

Robin scrambled back down the rock, quickly pawing smaller stones out of the way at the cave’s mouth. The sun’s setting light tried to spill into the darkness, but was largely blocked by the dust and her own shadow. She continued to swiftly dig out the mobile stones, squinting to adjust her eyes to the darkness to see him. “That sort of worked, right? Lazarus?”

His form came into view and she breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t buried under a pile of boulders. “And it’s Robin, by the w…” He didn’t lift his head and rise up as she had expected. In fact, he stayed quite still. She folded her red-rimmed ears back.

“Talk to me, Ranger,” the pushy wolf demanded of him as she dove into the darkness to meet his form. Pressing her muzzle against his neck, she felt both a pulse and his breath. He was indeed still alive, but clearly not all was well.

Stepping back to both give him space and inspect his figure further, she bit her lip. A wave of horror rolled over her and twisted her stomach into endless knots. Oh, what have I done…

---

Lazarus heard scrabbling at the rocks by the entrance, trying to sit up, scared for the loner. At least she’s alive, but is she buried in the rocks?? A sharp pain sent him right back down on the ground, though. No sitting up… not yet… ow… he winced, dropping his head on the ground and just breathing. Was the pain getting worse? He heard her voice, calling to him, telling him her actual name. Robin… it fits. he mused, thinking of the male robins with their bright bellies that well matched her fur. He didn’t reply at all at first; now that the adrenaline was fading away it hurt to breathe, nevermind talking!

Her voice grew louder as she came in to meet him, ”Talk to me, Ranger,” she pressed her muzzle against his fur. He flinched slightly. It had been a long time since he’d felt another wolf so it was weird. But this whole situation was weird too. Something was wrong with him…  and it was scaring him.

Robin had stepped back, and wasn’t talking anymore, and Lazarus started freaking out enough for him to ignore the pain and try to respond anyway. “I-eeeeeii” his breaths were shallow and he winced as he tried to sit up again. He quickly decided to stay down. Maybe he just needed time. Or maybe it’s just going to get worse… and I won’t be able to move… and I’ll die here… he flushed, getting pretty freaking scared now, but resolved to still try and play it off as no big deal. He lifted his head, he could do that at least. “It worked, yeah, look, there’s the outside!” he said too excitedly, pointing stupidly with his muzzle at where Robin had just come from, perhaps the first clue toward his rapidly escalating mind explosion. He laughed nervously as the air seemed to grow thinner. “I just… I just need a minute.” Just a minute… a minute right? Right??

After the guilt-heavy journey to Fellfang that had nearly drove him insane on its own, and the several days of rotting away within the cave thinking he’d die, and now this physical pain (something the rarely-injured Laz had difficulty toughing out) to layer on top, Lazarus was at his breaking point. Whatever thin cover of cool he had on before was wiped off totally in this moment. His breathing grew rapid, making the pain worse, and he starting looking around suddenly as if forgetting where he was and his limbs beginning to shake. His eyes then found Robin, noticing her as if for the first time, and then one thing became the most important thing; He had to tell her. Right here. Right now. Because if he didn’t say it, would he ever have the chance again? “So… so I’m not in Aryn. I’m not. I ran away. I ran away from home, I left them, I said I was going to Fellfang and I did, I did and I met this girl and she’d been a loner and she was so cool and then this kid who blames himself for his pack, how is that his fault? Huh?? You can’t PICK your family, it’s not his fault that he can’t change his pack of adult wolves when he’s some dumb pup, and then he blames himself for it? It’s totally insane!! It’s insane. And then I saw my best friend’s dad’s mate but my friend’s dad is dead and I had to tell her, I had to tell her, ME tell HER that her MATE is dead. It was like… like… a year ago! He’s dead now, alright?? So why isn’t he gone? Why do I still have to tell people? Why didn’t someone else do it? She was so… so… “ he flinched a bit and drew his head back, as if he had something stuck in his eyes, briefly pausing from his nearly incoherent rambling, but then he plunged right back in, “so he’s dead and she’ll never see him again and Seven won’t see him again and Seven hates me because I almost killed her with an elk and I left her, she's an orphan, a double orphan because first she was all alone as a pup and then she came to Aryn and got a new dad and then there was this thunderstorm but then her dad died but she’s still so sweet… and I left, I looked her right in the eyes and she looked at me and she listened even though I’d hurt her before and I told her I was leaving and not to tell anyone and she won’t. I know she won’t because she’s my best friend so they won’t write me off, they’ll waste all their time, they’ll look for me, they’ll try to find me and they never will because I’ll die here, I’m totally dead, I can’t get back, they can’t take me back, I’m dead, I’m better off dead. Dead, dead, deeeaaad.” he lowered his head trying to continue his babbling but his rapid breathing was getting worse and much more painful as he was basically hysterical. He couldn’t talk anymore, so focused on getting oxygen which he was super convinced was running out and he was sure that he was suffocating. He had all but forgotten that Robin was there again.

---

The noise that first came out of Lazarus troubled Robin and hurt her ears, but then he spoke coherently… sort-of. Her brow knitted together with concern and she glanced towards the sunlit sky briefly before side-eyeing him in his apparent state of mild delirium as he marveled at the outside world. He was probably just dehydrated, she figured.

But then the diatribe came.

As his monologue began, Robin thought she could follow him, but his words leapt from point to point in a way that didn’t make complete sense to her -- but he was still going! So he must have known what he was talking about? In a feeble attempt to prove she was still with him, she nodded her head sympathetically despite her confusion.

When he finally stopped, she tried to find any words of comfort for him: There, there, or I’m sure it’ll be okay, but when she opened her mouth to speak, it was apparent this poor sack of feelings was far from empty. He kept going, his words spiraling farther and farther away from the world in which their corporeal forms took shape. Robin’s corporeal form took a wary step backward. Maybe someone actually left this guy out here? She tried to push the thought aside, as well as her fleeting concern for her own safety. Lazarus was badly hurt - in more ways than one apparently - and needed help. His seemingly unending confession to her was a concern in itself, but her ears failed to hang on any of his words. She was not wont to involve herself in the personal matters of the lives of others, and truth be told he was growing rather tiresome.

Robin’s attention piqued at the quieting of his voice. He seemed to be losing steam for his own soliloquy as he repeatedly squawked out an appeal for his own demise. Robin pressed a smile for him and tilted her head curiously as he hyperventilated. Finally, she had found a wolf more dramatic than she. Robin lifted a paw and deftly smacked him across the face with it -- not too hard, he was already in pain, but with just enough force to get his attention and stun him to stillness.

“Are we all done, then?” she crooned sweetly at him. “Just breathe a moment.”

---

Wherever Lazarus had been before, he was snapped right back into reality at the firm blow that smacked him full on the face. His head shot up, his silver eyes wide and blinking in shock as he stared at the offender, finally seeing her again. He still didn’t speak at first, registering the presence of the small she-wolf in front of him. ... Robin, he reminded himself. She was smiling (too) pleasantly, asking if he was done. “Uh…” He shook his head to clear it, then looked at her again “Yeah…” The pain was still throbbing but it wasn’t as blinding as before, he realized now that he wasn’t in a panic. Lazarus had never felt anything like that before… never ever. Such overwhelming fear, such suffocating terror. But he kept his silver eyes locked on Robin. On that smile. That overly sweet, mildly irritated smile of hers. He liked it… somehow she had sat through all of that, and still clearly she didn’t think he would die. If he had been her, he likely would have taken off within the first ten words. She was a better wolf than him. Breathe… just breathe a moment… he repeated in his mind. He lowered his gaze, looking at his long forelegs stretched out before him, dark black fur frosted with pale dust, scraped up in a few places but he barely felt it. Then he looked at his side, his thick fur ominously in tact compared to the damage beneath. Damage… he winced, feeling sick as the fear began to creep up again. He quickly looked back up at Robin. She was still there… still smiling. He smiled a bit in return. He needed her to stay. At least for a little while.

The deep breaths were paying off, and he felt his heartbeat slow. Could that be what Seven feels during a thunderstorm? It was upsetting to think about Seven experiencing what he had just experienced. He didn’t want her to feel that kind of pain, and fear, and as if she were all alone. Lazarus rarely put much effort into sympathizing with others, but there were times when he was forced too, and it put him to shame every time. Terrible shame. For everything. I can’t live like this. I was stupid to think I could live like this… and that’s not even taking into account the fact that I can’t WALK.

He had to walk, though. It had been a while since he had eaten anything, or drank anything, so he didn’t know how he would make it home if he couldn’t hunt. But he had to try. At least if he died along the way he would be closer to Aryn, easier for the search parties to find. He owed them that mercy if nothing else. Unless there is someone who can help me home… Lazarus was a selfish wolf, but even he couldn’t ask that of Robin. She had done enough for him, she had given him a shot. He had to assume he was on his own from here. He tried to sit up, moving carefully. The pain was there, it burned and it throbbed but he was determined. There was something more important than the pain, now that he could see it. He managed to get his feet under him, and slowly he rose. Unsteady at first, but he managed to keep himself up. “Robin,” he said at last, finally ready to speak more coherently. His words may be irrelevant to her, but he had to say them aloud. For himself, if for no one else. “I lied to you. I’m not in Aryn. I was, but I ran away. It was a mistake. I have to go home.”

---

The way he tried to recover himself moved something within Robin. She watched as his eyes searched their surroundings, and then himself as he tried to control his breathing. The episode did not continue, and the truth of his predicament dawned on her. Her ears slowly fell as she realized what had just happened: he hadn’t been having an overly-dramatic or deranged mental breakdown. He was having a panic attack. Lazarus was terrified.

Feeling more empathetic for this hapless wolf (and quite guilty for hitting him,) her breath caught in her throat as she wanted to reach her trunk of a neck out to steady him -- but he was still very much a stranger. But she had saved his life.

As he slowly rose to his feet, long, muscular legs briefly quaking from the pain he endured, she reached for him. She placed one leg behind his to steady him and supported his neck with hers. “Sounds like we’re even, then,” she jested in an attempt to lighten his spirits, poking at his lie that had follow hers.

“I don’t know where Aryn is, but you’re not going to get very far in your condition,” Robin sighed, resigning herself to look after him, a first for her. “I’ll get you home, Lazarus.”