Here's a happy little turn for our dear Weezie. u_u

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Weezie ran down the path, stumbling over rocks and fallen branches. She didn't dare stop to catch her breath, or slow the furious beat of her feet. The tumult of emotions inside needed an outlet or she felt she might burst from it all.

The trail did not seem familiar, but she wasn't sure if that was because of her pace, or the direction she was heading now- down instead of up- or if she had in fact chosen the wrong path. It did seem steeper than she remembered, at some points dropping to such an angle she nearly tumbled headlong down the hill. Deep ruts and ditches tried to trip her stumbling feet as low branches smacked her across the arms and face as she ran, puffing for breath.

Finally the screaming of her lungs and the stitch in her side brought her to a gasping halt. Her legs were shaking, threatening to buckle out beneath her as a wave of dizziness swept dark curtains over her vision. Weezie clung tightly to a nearby tree, blinking away the blackness until only spots remained- little black stars twinkling over the pinewood standing silently before her. She gulped, wishing for some kind of moisture to wet her parched throat.

Why did you do that? She asked herself as the pounding of her head calmed enough she could stand on her own. The moment was over, the heat of her rebellious decision, and she was left only with an emptiness inside. It felt good actually- almost a relief- after boiling for so long, to finally feel still.

Gingerly she took a few steps forward, pressing a hand to the stitch in her side that tore with every breath. Just gonna take it slow for a little while.

She smiled to herself despite the discomfort of her exhaustion. Percy was here! He was really here! She hadn't lost him, she would be able to see him again soon. She wouldn't be alone, she'd have something- someone- still to live for. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter through the branches overhead, and the chilly mountain wind felt pleasant on her fur. She was almost happy.

It was a log. A huge, old, rotting log, stretched across the path. Some mushrooms were growing along it, sheltered from the harsh wind by its bulk, free to enjoy the warmth of the sun shining down through the gap the old tree's foliage had once filled. Dead leaves filled the crannies of its branches, bits of its massive body rotting away into dirt. It had obviously been there for a long time. Not that the log itself was a problem for Weezie, she could have easily climbed over it and continued on. But now she knew for certain she was headed in the wrong direction. There had not been a fallen tree blocking the path to the mine, she would have remembered climbing over it. So Weezie frowned at it, sitting for a moment's rest on one of its large sprawling branches. Great. She thought. I've wasted all this time now. Will I even be able to make it to the camp before dark?

She stood up with a sigh, turning to face the way she had come. One foot in front of the other. Up the hill and over the fallen leaves and gravel. She remembered the lake at the edge of camp and wondered if she'd be able to get a drink from it. Maybe there would be a stream along the way? She scrambled over a particularly steep rise, leaving the rotten log behind and out of sight. What would they do if they caught her? Had they noticed she was missing? Would they catch her? Would Percy still be alive when she finally reached him? There was so much to worry about, it overshadowed the joy of before like grey clouds over a noonday sky. She felt it begin again, starting with an ache rising from deep down inside. Could anything ever be happy again? Or would it always be like this? Like waves crashing against the rocks. But Weezie didn't feel like a rock. She felt like one of the waves, crashing itself against an unchangeable truth and shattering into a million pieces, only to reform just to do it again. How many times could she break before it would be too much?

The sun was getting low on the horizon when Weezie finally stepped over a rise and saw the camp sprawled outside the ring of pines. The sun shone a deep gold, dark shadows cutting through its glow thrown by the solemn pines that watched the end of her march. She had found a stream to drink from on her way down the proper path, which cleared up the doubt over whether the lake was even safe to drink from.

"The long, low, white building on the south side." Weezie muttered under her breath, squinting around the scattered buildings for any sign of trouble. But the camp seemed empty and silent, save for the hollow sound the wind made as it moaned around the rough buildings. Weezie found what she guessed was the medhut, and reached towards the door with a trembling hand. Should she knock? She wasn't sure, but she found she was already slowly pushing the door open so she may as well continue.

The inside of the medhut was painted white as well, the floor made up of wooden boards smoothed by all the feet that had walked across them. A few benches slouched against the walls opposite each other, a sorry excuse for a desk and a very tired looking doe set against the third wall. She had her eyes closed with a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders and tucked under her chin. Her head drooped to one side then slowly back upright again as Weezie stepped into the hut and let the door swing gently shut. Weezie looked around the room, unsure of where to go next. She had never been inside an “official” place of medicine before. Any cuts or ills she and Layra had suffered their mother had treated for them. This couldn’t possibly be the hospital room though, she knew, as there were no beds and no sign of Percy.

Uncertainty, she walked towards the sleeping nurse. The doe showed no signs of waking, her nose whistling loudly with every breath. Weezie frowned. Should she wake her? She wasn’t sure how long her detour in the woods had taken her. Were Delia and the other nurses back yet, and if not, how much longer would they be? What would they do if they found her here? Would the nurses report her to the administration? She peered around the sleeping doe. She was rather certain she wouldn’t need help to find him, and wasn’t even sure the nurse would be of any help anyway. So she stepped past her and trotted softly down the hall beyond her.

Turning the corner she found herself in the sickbay. Beds lined the room, their heads set against the walls with just enough space between them to place a chair or a small table. Most of them were occupied, bandaged rabbits sleeping under the off-grey covers. She wondered how many of them were survivors of the wolf attack last night. After a few minutes searching among the beds Weezie finally found the buck she was looking for. She sank down to her knees at his bedside with a whimper. “Percy,” she trembled, finding his limp hand underneath the blanket. “I- I’m so sorry I left you. I’m back now, it’s okay.” She wasn’t sure if he was the kind of person that needed comforted, he had seemed so confident and sure before… when he had been awake. Would he ever wake up?

The nurses had wrapped his head all around in bandages, she couldn’t even see his face anymore. Would he be scared when he woke up, and found himself blindfolded like this? Weezie sniffed. Her limbs trembled under the effort of standing again.

“I’ll be right back,” she patted his hand. “I’m just going to grab a chair.”

She sat beside his bed, close enough to reach his hand in case he did wake up, and ate the rest of her breadcrust from lunch. After she swallowed the last bite, she told him everything that had happened to her since they split up, from the ugly faces Captain Jert had made at her to her stumbling run through the woods.

He was in a coma, Delia had told her, unaware of any of his surroundings. He couldn’t hear or feel or see anything. Weezie wasn’t too sure about that, but even if he couldn’t hear her she still needed to tell somebody what had happened, and if he could hear, wouldn’t he want to know?

“I suppose I should leave now,” Weezie said, looking down at the sleeping buck. “Before they find I’m gone and I get in trouble. But I don’t really care, and I don’t want to leave you again.”

She looked down at her filthy hands resting in her lap, her blue skirt stained with dirt and blood.

“I don’t want to care,” she whispered.

She waited for some kind of response from Percy. Anything. A twitch of the ear, a shift of his hand, a slight frown. But there was nothing. It was like he was dead, and Weezie realized like a slap to the face- she was still alone. She smeared the tears out of her eyes as she stood from the chair.

“I’ve got to go now, Percy, before they find me,” she said with a catch to her voice. “You have to rest now and get better, okay?”

She gave his hand one last squeeze before she turned to go, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“I need something to hope for,” she said softly.