King Elk Forest tell me again how rome burned, how our bodies became the sun

It is the bugle sound of the King Elk that awakens Mato from his slumber. He jolts awake as the haunting noise bellows out again and again like a spooky siren’s song. Apple green eyes close for a moment longer as he lingers, still upon the cusp of slumber ( for the sun has only just begun to rise if the soft golden light that breaches the canopy above is of any indication ) and in the pause between he dozes back into sleep before it sounds again, low into the morning air before Mato jerks awake again and rises to his paws, following the eerie sound, worried that something may be amiss with the mighty beast. As Morwinyon moves through Tindómë’s forest and pauses as he nears the King Elk’s favored spot, black, leathery nostrils flaring as he takes in the scents. More than one elk now lingers in Tindómë’s forest: the King Elk has made himself a small, humble harem and the estrus scent is unmistakable as it rises from the cow that the ethereal warden of the forest has attracted. A younger male lingers, too, but Mato has a suspicion that so long as the King Elk draws breath he will not allow the young male to breed.

In the absurd need ( and perhaps his own fleeting embarrassment that he did not understand sooner ) to give the king elk and his harem privacy Mato does not linger long. He ensures that the small harem is ok ( and thinks he may make it apart of his daily routine so he can watch the development of the cow should the pair’s copulation take ) before he turns and heads anywhere but near the rutting elks. If they were lucky Tindómë would see new life, a child of the mighty, otherworldly warden. Which prompts the druid’s line of thinking more directly to breeding pairs and whether it is something he would give permission to. There was only one breeding pair to the pack, currently, and though it is the very last thing Mato wishes to think about he considers that his grandfather’s days of siring children are likely behind him.

Naturally, the empyrean’s line of thought flickers to his own, yet undetermined potential relationship with @Brienne and what a future together might hold. If she wanted. If they wanted. She is a constant in his life, a surprising collision with a bright star that he’d never anticipated but could not easily be parted with now; and though Mato is artfully skilled in avoiding his feelings he has grown to care for her. Deeply. And cannot help but think that it’s about time he ceased dancing around what has become an inventible truth to him. She’s already met his family after all ( despite the embarrassment they have been to him that day ). The druid seeks her out unsure if he’d or the King Elk had woken her or if he would find her where he left her to check in on Tindómë’s warden.