Bramble woke, groggy, as the first light of morning slanted sharply across her eyes. One blink, then two, and the world still didn’t seem focused. Nothing seemed focused. Even Bramble herself, though clearly aware of her own identity, felt like little more than a rock suspended in muck. The only constant was the warmth at her side and the calming way it shifted against her ribs with each breath; in and out, in and out. She sighed and leaned into it, still half awake, comforted in her drowsy peace.
But peace was a fleeting thing.
Memories prickled behind her eyelids while she lay there half awake and basking in the early morning sun. Without warning, they flew open, wincing against the flood of daylight immediately. The legs stretched out next to her own were familiar for a thousand reasons and suddenly the rise and fall of his chest next to her own was not a comfort but a shock that made her heart thud loud and painfully into her ribcage. She had woken up next to Fern before as pups a hundred times, as friends at least a dozen, but never like this.
Her breath caught in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut against the realization, frantically trying to recall the how and why, as if digging through her murky thoughts would give her the courage she needed to face her best friend when he stirred next to her.
It had been the fermented berries at the root of it, that was always the way of it with these things. The sickly sweetness still sat on her tongue like a wicked reminder. But beyond that, what had happened? That was the real question. She remembered Chase the Fox, that too sweet girl, and the way she had brushed up against her side.
“I saw that Fern is dressed to match you,” there was a question in the statement. Bramble remembered the smirk on her mug and the way she had been so perplexed by it.
“Ah, yes.” Bramble had been swallowing a mouthful of berries when the red wolf interrupted. “Coincidental, I’m sure.”
“Oh, please, that was absolutely intentional. How long are you going to feign ignorance, my dearest elder?”
The weight against her side increased and she found herself staring down into Fox’s eyes. Her head tilted and her smile suddenly lecherous in Bramble’s memory.
“Feign ignorance over what?” She remembered the way she had tried but failed to put venom into the sentence, the way she had wanted so badly to chastise Fox for plucking at rumors. She remembered the way it had come out hesitant, instead, as her pale eyes sought out Fern across the crowd of heads around them. He had smiled as their eyes met and her heart dropped to the pit of her belly. The fleeting laughter of Fox dwindled away and Bramble remembered the way her weight disappeared with it, throwing her off balance.
She tilted, began to fall -
And there was Fern. Shoulder to shoulder, he was teasing her, she could hear the tone even if she was having a hard time putting words to it. She glanced up at his eyes and met humor staring back at her, she even thought to laugh at herself but couldn’t. She remembered the way her cheeks had felt too warm, the way she had stared into his eyes so long that suddenly, his humor was no longer present.
That look in his eyes was so intense that Bramble opened hers again in the waking world. She could remember the how - but why? Fern still slumbered at her side while her heart was raging a war within her chest. A thousand emotions were fighting within her - guilt, shame, awe, nervousness - and it was, at last, too much. As carefully as she could, she pushed herself to her feet and tip toed away from her slumbering friend. Glen’s Brother.
Fern was the only soul in the world that had kept her sane and now, out of the blue, he was threatening to overwhelm her. It wasn’t his fault, though. Was it hers? She didn’t know.
Ashamed of herself for leaving before he was awake, Bramble let her feet carry her away. She didn’t know what path she was following or who could help her make sense of it all. She didn’t know anything except that she needed to move, to run until her lungs gave out and she was too tired to think about any of this.
When she was far enough away, she bolted, running blindly away from her life-shattering night.
(Word Count: 776)