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Whisper the Wolf was not a morning person.
The statement was not self-evident. Not many people would ever see Morning Whisper; a spectacle in its own right. In the past, during a darker time, you’d have to search deep into a thicket and stumble upon a rinky-dink tent to even chance a glance at Morning Whisper. A paraffin lamp flickered, barely hanging onto the last of its oil. Cold dew settled on the leaves. Birds chirped. The sunrise cut its way through knobbly branches, serving as an unheeded alarm clock. If you managed to find such a scene (a big if) and decided to take a peek inside the lonely tent, you’d discover a young wolf wrapped up in a sleeping bag, covered in blankets and a pillow strategically placed over her head. Most likely, she’d ignore you; dozing was too important. However, her five little aliens would not take the intrusion as lightly, leaving you to be promptly murdered. Such is the fate of those who attempted to spy a Morning Whisper.
Her room at the Restoration was much homier than the tent. Real beds. Indoor heating. A toilet. Morning Whisper more than happily took advantage of these luxuries. You’d discover her as she lay now, bundled in a fluffy fortress of duvets and comfort, with random limbs flung out akimbo. Blue perched on her forehead. Her four other wisps had discovered various nooks in the blankets. During the early hour of… eleven o’clock in the morning; Whisper found herself in her usual ritual. Lying awake and thinking.
The ceiling was especially interesting this morning, as it was every morning. She breathes slowly, and stares. Whisper’s mind never stopped wandering; through life, circumstance, friends and foes. Through how she transformed from an idealistic mercenary to a sullen, broken guardian. From that stagnancy, to the here and now. She was snuggled up in a warm bed, surrounded by friends whom she’d die for, Mimic was a non-factor for the first time in her life, and the gutting pit of despair where the spirits of her fallen comrades resided in… no longer existed. The Neo Diamond Cutters carried their torch proudly. There wasn’t any more grieving to be done. She found herself smiling more often. And, of course, there was Tangle. Where would she be if Tangle hadn’t been the most annoyingly persistent, recklessly enthusiastic, inspiringly brave and perfectly pure-hearted thorn in her side? Not here, that’s for sure; nestled underneath four blankets and sinking into a memory foam mattress. By all accounts, she should be content.
So why wasn’t she?
It was not as if she was unhappy. Whisper knew that pain like an old friend. Or enemy? She hadn’t quite decided yet. Instead, the sadness had been replaced with a listless feeling of absolutely nothing. Just a thrum of ennui that sucked the wind from her sails; and that didn’t make any sense at all. Her wounds were healing. She could laugh once again. So surely… fulfilment should follow? That’s what Jewel’s self-help books had promised her. It’d be due anytime now?
Whisper’s claws gripped the sheets tightly, plucking at errant threads. A spot of paint on the ceiling had become congealed. The mark dribbled and dried, left halted in its tracks. Was that where she was at? Spinning her wheels until she inevitably fizzled out?
She rolled over to avoid that nasty train of thought, opting to lay her snout on her pillow and squeeze her eyes shut. Blotting everything out seemed preferable to paint job existentialism. Whisper huffed at the silliness… she wasn’t fizzling out anytime soon. The future was bright. She should feel excited, but emptiness still swirled. Had the bastard octopus left scars too deep to fade? Where was her well-earned happiness?! Are you broken?
A barely perceptible whine escaped her throat. Blue, ever emotionally vigilant Blue, took notice and nuzzled deeper into her fur. She never wore her mask in bed, so she could only assume the quiet gibberish they spouted were words of encouragement. They might’ve well been sweet nothings for all she cared- the wolf’s face twitched in disappointment at herself. Nice going, Whisper! Taking those who care for granted again. Squeezing Blue into a vice-grip hug was her wordless apology. The motion caused the wisp to let out a shrill squeak, like a dog’s toy, and that offered some modicum of comfort. She was just a damn dog at the end of the day-
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
“Whisp, you in there?”
Her traditional 11:05 circling around the drain was interrupted by a certain-
KNOCK… KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
“I’m not leaving ‘til you answer, Whisper. Lanolin’s orders.”
-lemur. Curses. Whisper kicked the covers off herself, sending her wisps flying out to cast light over the dim room like an impromptu disco. She possessed no reason to rub sleep out of her eyes (she’d been awake for ages), nor really to get dressed. A hoodie sufficed, and once Whisper had successfully pulled back her hair into a ponytail, she swung open the door.
Clad in her usual sports gear, Tangle shot Whisper a double-barrelled finger gun as greeting. The cocksure, lopsided grin on her face betrayed the softening of her gaze. The cynic in Whisper saw it as pity; she probably looked a bit dishevelled when compared to the perfectly groomed lemur. The realist in Whisper discarded the cynic. Tangle made it no secret that she adored her, those amethyst irises sparkled whenever the wolf made her presence known. The romantic in Whisper told her that must be something to hold onto. Still… emotional bupkis.
“Hey…” Tangle snapped her out of her trance. “We were meant to meet for training today? You didn’t show up so Lanolin got worried. I told her you were good…” She paused. Those sparkling irises flicked up and down in a quick once over. “You are good, right?”
Whisper nodded a bit too aggressively, as if Tangle’s question prodded her into a bobble-head.
“M’fine. Jus’ overslept, that’s all.” A lie, and not a particularly convincing one either. Whisper willed herself to stand a smidge straighter; to open her eyes a tad wider. Anything to remove suspicion. A stealth master must understand how to hide their feelings and stick them in an inconspicuous cardboard box. Tangle simply tilted her head down to level their eye-line, her tail whipping behind her. She wasn’t buying it. Whisper balked. “Cyan clicked the snooze on my alarm”. A chirp of protest came from behind her. Ignore, ignore.
“Do you mean that?” Tangle murmured with a tinge of concern.
“Yes. I promise.” Whisper flounced at the inherent accusation and hoisted her wispon up in a desperate attempt to kill the awkward (well-intentioned) needling; clicking a few buttons here, turning a valve there and viola. The weapon roared to life with a mechanical whirr. She had a gun now. Not even Tangle would argue with a gun.
“I’ll be with you guys in a moment. Bear with me.” she muttered quietly. Tangle pursed her lips, choosing her next words carefully. Her tail continued to flick itself into a knot.
“Can I come in?”
Oof. That slugged Whisper in a place she didn’t want it to. And when Tangle smiled, not with a shit-eating smirk, but with the subtle lift to the corner of her mouth; warm, caring… the wolf did feel something.
Whisper blinked and forced what she hoped was an easy expression and gestured for the lemur to enter. Tangle surveyed the room, slickly throwing up a pillow and kneading at it. So typical that she required something to fidget with.
“We’re going clay pigeon shooting. Boss gal thinks it’s a good idea to expand our repertoires.” Tangle spun the pillow on her finger. “Should be a slam dunk for you!”
“Sure.” replied Whisper curtly, tucking the corners of her bed in and causing Tangle’s ears to flatten. A sting of guilt threaded its way through the wolf’s body; not enough to retract her barbs, but still… enough to make her feel worse for swatting away at Tangle’s enthusiasm. Despite that, the lemur was undeterred, bounding up to Whisper with gusto.
“Does that not sound exciting? You could try out different types of wispon projectiles. Maybe we’ll even see if Maggie is compatible with your wispon!”
“I s’pose?” Whisper’s nonchalance froze any momentum. The pillow flopped onto the floor as Tangle crossed her arms, pouting in defiance at Whisper’s barriers. They were in a deadlock – the wolf’s walls were high and impregnable. Luckily, Tangle was a fantastic climber.
“Whisp, I know what you’re going through.”
Whisper’s eyes flew open at that. Instantly, a defensiveness began to bubble within her chest.
“This has nothing to do with Mimic.”
“Never said it was Mimic.” Tangle said, before staring off at a corner and rectifying. “Well, I guess it’s a little bit of Mimic. A little bit of… everything, I guess.” She grabbed Whisper by the wrists and led her down onto the edge of the bed. The wolf tried to wriggle out of the clasp, but Tangle’s calloused hands were reliably sturdy. “You’re adrift, ain’t ya?”
Her friend’s casual accusation skewered Whisper’s stomach. How did she know? Am I that obvious? Instead of arguing the point, like she so desperately wanted to… Whisper knocked her head back in faux protest.
“It’s only Morning Whisper.” she groaned. Deflection worked… attagirl Whisper…
“Dude, I’ve seen Morning Whisper. This isn’t her… it’s more than you not getting your full eight hours.” Whisper’s wrists were released, and their hands met each other in a tight hold. The wolf found herself latching on for dear life, Tangle’s voice soft as she pressed forward. “I’m here for you, Whisper. Always will be. If you don’t want to tell me now, that’s fine. I understand. But… just know that if you need someone to talk to – there’s always me. That’s a Tangle Patented Promise!”
To the lemur’s surprise, Whisper met her gaze with full, blue openness. For a second, Tangle was swimming through molasses. A second further, and a resigned sigh pulled her from her reverie.
“There’s nothing wrong, Tangle… and that’s the problem. I don’t feel angry, or sad, or scared or… anything, really.” She fiddled with her bangs. “Spent so long chasing him, missing them, fighting Eggman… now that it’s all finished…” Tangle nodded.
“You don’t know what to do with yourself?”
“Exactly… So many years I dreamed about the peace I’d feel once I was free from the burden.” Whisper let out a choked laugh. “Didn’t expect this. Y’know? I expected…” She stalled. Tangle listened. “I don’t know what I expected, jus’… not this. I thought I’d be happy.”
Silence broke out, Whisper pulling her legs into her chest. Tangle wasn’t looking at her; she was staring out into space. Not intensely… but pensively, searching for an answer that she didn’t have at the tip of her tongue. Brown hands stroked at grey fur. Had she gone too far? They should’ve been firing off at targets, bantering it up whilst Lanolin restrains her irritation. Anything but this. She’d scream, but her throat had screwed itself shut.
“I getcha. I really do.” Tangle finally hummed. “But life doesn’t work like that.” A flick of an ear and a furrowed brow clued her into Whisper’s confusion; all that was needed was a tiny pat of the palm for Tangle to provide reassurance. “Lemmie guess what you’re thinking- ‘that doesn’t sound like Tangle at all’. Correct read?”
Whisper nodded. “Like a book.” she added bewilderedly.
“Yeaaah… There are times where I feel the same sorta thing. Ever wonder why I choose to swing about the building at silly o’clock in the morning, or go for a run to Spiral Hill and back, or eat strawberries at random intervals, or hang out with you or Jewel or Lanolin, or simply be myself?” Tangle paused her gush, sensing whether Whisper wanted to interject.
Nope. The wolf was enthralled so the emotional support lemur took her cue. “It’s because they make me happy, so I go out and do them! Rain, snow - doesn’t matter! What you’re fighting, Whisp, is not unhappiness… it’s the absence of happiness. So, the trick is to find it yourself.”
Whisper chewed a lip, many objections ringing through her head. Everything hit a bit too close to home.
“It can’t be that easy?”
“Depends. I’m very lucky, there’s so much to life that brings me joy. I do have it that easy. But I can’t blame you for writing everything off, either. ‘Cause life has been really cruel to you, Whisper.”
Tangle suddenly wrapped her arms around Whisper… who started to shake ever so subtly. “Half the battle is getting out of bed, seizing an opportunity or making a plan; and saying: ‘today I choose me’! Unfortunately, those aren’t things that’ll drop into your lap - you gotta be the one to lead the charge and grasp ‘em. Don’t get me wrong, it can be really hard… and your friends will always be there to give you a boost; but it starts with you.”
The shakes became very intense; an extra-squeezy tail hug was desperately in order. “It’s a battle, sure… that you will win, Whisp. You’re so, so strong.” Encased in a spiral of fluff and comfortableness, Whisper let herself calm. This was much better than a memory foam mattress or a mountain of duvets. She buried her face into the silky fur.
“I… have to make happy happen?” came her muffled voice, the tremors all but passed.
“We make happy happen.” Tangle retorted, peeling herself away from Whisper and squishing the canine’s cheeks. A quiet giggle bubbled out of Whisper’s mouth as she attempted to re-submerge herself in the tail fuzz. Wrestling her away was no small feat for Tangle, she too had to resist the urge to stroke cream-coloured facial fluff. “No, no! Let’s start planning first!”
Whisper at last relented.
“Planning?” she said with a slight tilt of her head. Tangle un-winded her tail, freeing them both from the impish appendage’s terrible (cozy) embrace. Room temperature now seemed sub-zero. It was a boon, then, that both their cheeks heated up, red hued and toasty. Grey hands clapped themselves together.
“Well, what makes you happy? Anything and everything, let’s go do it!” Tangle pumps her fist in the air. “We can even play hooky and miss training today?” she added slyly. Whisper looked as if she was considering it when-
“Let’s go target-shooting. Imagine that Lanolin spent all morning putting that together.”
“No doubt. Stressy sheep. She needs more yoga and less coffee.” Tangle was on the precipice of another long-winded tirade as she kicked herself off the bed and stretched her back out. Whisper felt on the precipice of something too… though she didn’t exactly understand what. It was a flippy-floppy, knotty kind of feeling. Bubbly and light. With a start, she realised that the chasm had filled itself with rushing passion.
Make happy happen.
“Besides…” Whisper eventually squeaked out. The dissertation explaining ‘The Effects of Caffeine on Ovine Specimens’ halted dead in its tracks. “I’ve already got what makes me happy. She’s right in front of me.” And with a characteristic nimbleness, she scooped up her mask and coat, re-adjusted her wispon, pecked Tangle on the cheek and flew out the door.
The lemur’s heart stopped for a second; her tail twisting itself into a love-sick pretzel shape. The blush on her face immediately broke into an elated grin, as she followed the wolf’s tracks.
“You can’t just do that, you jerk!”
Whisper’s room at the Restoration was much homier than the tent; but at this moment? Its purpose was served. Contentment was to be found elsewhere.