So, I don't know what this is, or where it is going. I felt compelled to write after being overjoyed that there are readers that follow my writing. This is for you. This is an original work of which I do not have an outline for. That being said, I do not know how long it will be, or how often I will update it. I am at a loss for a better title. If you, reader, think of something better suited. Please allow me to consider it. And, I have no beta.

Trigger warning for violence, possibly non-consensual, implied, abuse, etc. If I missed anything that may possibly be triggering, please, please, please, let me know. I will try and keep triggers to a minimum, and will try and remember to make sure they are in place.

Italics are either an internal monologue or in certain instances, dialogue or a flashback.

Artio is a bear goddess in Celtic mythology. She is the goddess of nature, fertility, bears and was worshiped in the region of Gaul.

A FOUND HOME

Mud

xoxoxo

"You'll know." She said nothing further, moving to follow her tadpoles deeper into the brush, never once looking back over shoulder.

Her companions moved forward seamlessly through the woods, tumbling in and out of every tiny stream and puddle of mud they could, days of rain making their forward progress phenomenal. The woods were bordering on becoming a swamp so much rain had fallen. So yes, her companions were over the moon with so much water to inhabit. She on the other hand found she was at once distracted by the rain, but also enamoured by the woods as they passed through them. Her progress was slowed by that same rain that the tads, she liked that, the tads, were frolicking in, now that she had been walking half the day. They, she, would have to rest soon, but she knew she was also buoyed by the energy that her body absorbed from the earth. It wasn't something she could survive off of indefinitely, it was more of a failsafe that she discovered purely by accident. Being in prison, contained within concrete and steel, kept that power at bay. But now her energy stores were in the process of being replenished.

She flapped out her wings, considering the action a safer and quieter option than whistling or shouting to garner the tadpoles attention. She held up the bag in hand and motioned for them to join her. She scanned the area, looking for a spot not in the water, her eyes dropping onto a fallen log just up off the left of the trail they seemed to be on. She gave the log a nudge with her foot, determined to not be eaten by something that wasn't truly a log. Satisfied with her dead log, she sat down, settling the bag and its contents on her lap. Peering inside there were five small bundles, she could only surmise that it was some kind of food, wrapped in a heavily waxed brown paper, secured with twine. She shook the bag around, checking for more than the bundles. With three of the tadpoles gathered at her feet, and one sitting either side of her, she's hoping that there is enough food to last them their journey, or The Village is a lot closer than she thinks.

The tads rocked and swayed in tandem, moving easily each left and right, much like reeds along the river's edge, ebbing bobbing with the current. Sitting there on the log, and fishing out one of the bundles, She was able to get a better look at her charges. All of them appeared to be a mix of frog and merfolk. She realized they loped and half walked because their legs were melding into a single fin, but was incomplete, their arms taking up the slack as none of them were no longer able to walk upright. And like many children, they adapted to what their bodies were capable of. All of their torsos were a combination of shaded green skin and shimmering black scales that provided them, she now realized, a certain amount of camouflage in damp and woody underbrush. Their faces were still that of children, bright eyed and innocent, but gills had begun forming on each of them, extending from about their ear lobes down to the tops of their shoulders. Their eyes had all retained their natural color, but definitely had taken on a more amphibious look. The Twins, two boys sitting at her feet and to her left were a brown eyed rambunctious pair of brothers, The boy to her right was the jailer's son, Petit, was shy and she suspected, a bit engaging once he was accustomed to your presence, had dark blue eyes. The last two were girls, Dorothy and Glinda. She's not sure how she knows that they are female, had each taken up a position on either side of her on the log, both had hazel eyes, and were as easily as rough and tumble as The Twins.

Unwrapping the bundle in hand, She discovered a small dark brown brick of food, cut into six equal pieces. The Tadpoles seeing what she had, began to vibrate in place, their eyes swirling and softly humming their approval. Reminding her of the honeybees she once raised, busying themselves along the warm summer days. An easy smile crossed her features as she watched their reaction, soaking up the warmness and joy they were emanating.

She handed them each one, the boys almost inhaling theirs in two and three bites, the girls were a bit more dainty, seeming to savor theirs a bit more. She held it up to her nose, wrinkling a bit at the overly seafood odor. She took a small bite, one eyebrow raised in surprise that it tasted much better than it smelled, having a bread pudding consistency to it and found it quite filling. She ate quietly, extending her wings up and over her head to shield herself from the rain, the Tadpoles taking advantage of the cover as well and snuggling in close around her. She shook her head, chuckling to herself, and settling her wings down around them all as she kept watch, popping the last bit of her food cube in her mouth. "It's just rain."

She woke with a start, mentally berating herself for dozing off. The Tadpoles were already awake and moving about, happily slipping through and around the undergrowth that was nearly a foot deep in places. "I'm certain this is referred to as a swamp." Just over half a day into their journey, and she was definitely tired of slogging through water. She followed the Tadpoles without question, all seeming to know which direction they needed to travel. If she herself gave enough thought to the direction they were travellilng, she could also sense a something. It was in the earth, but she let that go for later speculation. And based upon her current energy levels, whatever was contained in those food cubes must be providing them all with a bit of extra punch. They were moving quickly, in spite of the weather. She was hoping that based upon their food supply, the Village was at best no longer than a five day stretch. Hopefully.

After day one of their escape, the Tadpoles didn't seem too interested in the food cubes, as their was plenty of fresh foraging to be had. If the Village was farther than anticipated, she could make what she had available last, as she has operated on far less. She quickly shrugged that thought away, and focused on her now.

Day three in their journey, and they travelled in relative quiet. The children, she really needed to stop calling them tadpoles, but it brought a smile to her face, were well behaved and all seemed to be aware that they needed to be careful. Whatever their parents had said to them, they took to heart. She rarely called out to them, as they stayed within an easy proximity that she could spot them quickly. She was steadily alert to their surroundings, particularly manmade noises or sounds, glad for the canopy of trees shielding them from the possibility of being seen from overhead. She was under no illusion that humans would be hunting for her. And while she could live without the persistent rain, it was helpful in covering their tracks. The Tadpoles were able to travel with almost no trace, riding on and within the water that flowed through the woods. For herself she was able on occasion to flit through the underbrush if there were moments when the woods were not quite as dense. But she considered it a troublesome effort, so she continued to slog most of the time. She had gone to sleeping amongst the lowest hanging boughs she could find, tired of sleeping in the wet. She remarked to herself that, "It was too much like sleeping in a tub. And not even a comfortable tub." The Tadpoles would sleep huddled together around whatever tree she was sleeping in. She noticed that they were acutely attuned to each other, sharing a much deeper connection, than just their mutantcy.

She was waking up slowly at the moment. Her eyes closed as she listened to the children's chirring. She was learning the meaning of all their different sounds of communication, and they were definitely up to something. She was lowering her feet toward the ground, peeking an eye in the direction of the boys, when a child sized fist wad of mud struck her in the forehead. She raised a hand and chirring turned to giggling as she had now managed to smear mud across the rest of her face.

"Okay. You realize that this means we all get to take a bath, later." She eased her feet further down until they made contact with the ground. Leaning in with a free hand she pulled up her own muck ball, heaving it toward the boys as they ducked beneath the water. There was movement from the corner of her eye, as she reached down a second time, realizing with a foolish certainty, she had been had. Dorothy and Glinda ambushed her, both landing squarely on her back. She would have laughed out loud if not for gaining a mouthful of water and mud. Off balance enough she was immediately inches deep in mud and water, having barely enough time to inhale and hold her breath as she pressed herself up to the surface. Blending in with the varying shades of muck, scrunching her nose at the amount of earth and mud soaking her wings. She had moved onto all fours when the amusement of the morning dissipated, a frown taking over her features as she looked in the direction they had come from. She didn't question what she was sensing. She knew that sensation and her latent intuition of it all kicked in. A grim realization of impending danger moved through her bloodstream, as easily as the waters swirling around her body. She was inexplicably firing on all cylinders and rose to a standing position so quickly, she dislodged the girls in the process. They immediately began fussing and chirring at her, splashing her all the while with renewed vigor.

Her head swiveled around, eyes peering through the brush and woods for a danger she could feel, yet not see. She scooped up the girls, one under each arm, making her way onto her feet.

Her blood was humming and it in turn caused her skin to ripple. She fluttered her wings, removing as much water and mud as she could. If she had to fly at this point, she was not going to fair well getting airborne. She gave them one final hard snap, gathering everyone's attention.

She didn't bother trying to school her features into any semblance of calm, and hey, everything is fine. They didn't have that luxury in a world that would keep them imprisoned, or worse.

"Hold on, I'll put you back down in a moment." The chirring had taken on a menacing tone, vibrating the air around them. She could just make out the soundwaves, and it scritched the quills of her wings. "Shh. Stop that! I know." She took steps toward the boys, tossing the girls onto the ground to join them. She kept her voice down and knelt down next to them. "Listen. I need you to run. Get to the river. And don't come back this way." She held her wings out and embraced them all at once. Tiny hands caressing her face, she allowing herself to be in the moment. One day. "Now go. Run!"