Otter Creek WHERE IS MY BABY

Koume had been gone for too long. 

She allowed her children to wander, knowing that the experiences that came from their own exploration outmatched anything she could muster, sitting them down and lecturing them. They had always come back by night, and even if she did not see them, she knew they were still close.

Of course, as they got older, their wanderings would lead them farther and farther for longer and longer, but she always knew, always expected, that they would come back.

But Koume hadn't.

Fear clung the young mother, as she sniffed desperately for any new scent on the borders, any smell of her eldest child. There was none. It had gone on for days, now weeks, and she knew she could not stay and wait for her daughter. She howled for her brothers @Cicero, @Damien, and her uncle Miraak, and @Vandal. She didn't know what to call him, but she knew that he could and would help. She was ready to simply leave, but she knew she could not leave her sons @Ganondorf and @Vaati, or her remaining daughter Kotake. She could not lose them too.

The natural order of things was that youth sometimes left and sometimes vanished. In such young fragile age it was not uncommon for wolves to simply pass away, or get lost and then pass away, and Sheogorath had thought little of it. Not that he would ever tell anyone such things, of course, for he was far too aware of social conduct to make such slip-ups. Still, he considered well that Potema been blessed with many, and who knew how many were still here today? When his sister howled he heard the distress in her voice and he did wonder what it was for.

He showed up though, ears perked forth with a look of sympathy and question on his face while he waited for his sister to tell him what was the matter and, more importantly, what she expected of him now.

Seemingly not the best at the act/feeling of caring, Damien had failed to ever fulfill his goal of being the pillar in the spiderlings' lives. They had grown without a father, yet Damien himself —knowing the difficulties of such disgrace from experience— had done little to fill that space, and now the consequences of his negligence started showing.

He rocketed himself through the dark woods, feeling the anguish carried in his sister's voice, but never did the thought of Koume cross his mind. "Potema," he barked as he gathered with his siblings, avoiding eye contact with Cicero the exact same way he'd been doing for weeks. Still there was concern in his eyes and the panic in Potema's could only make it all the worse. "What's happened?" he asked, taking a few rushed steps towards his sister as he tried to decipher what on earth could be making her so nervous.

Silver ears heard Potema's call ring out from the borders of the territory and instantly the Tyro's head turned to face in the woman's direction, but it was the distress within her tone that swiftly stirred the brute into movement more than anything. And without any further thought, Van's socked paws were carrying him toward the borders, his pace gradually quickening with each step as he silently weaved through the tall, darkened trees of the forest. And as he ran, his mind began to whirl in thought. But there was only one question he found himself asking. What was troubling her so?

Before long, bright sapphire eyes fell upon the sight of Potema, though as he observed more closely the Tyro noticed two other wolves had already gathered about her - having answered her call before him. Still, he silently approached regardless, his ivory socked paws slowing in pace as they continued to guide him toward the group. Quietly, Vandal moved into the small gathering, his tail swaying low behind him as his ears flicked back against his head, gradually coming to a halt to one side of the white woman, his cold eyes peering to the nightly colored male as he spoke, asking the same question that he also sought the answer to.

Cicero — Sheogorath? — was the first to answer her call. She was lucky that he said nothing, the question being answered instead by Damien, the eldest. As soon as the white-eyes wolf arrived her gaze shifted quickly to him, and she opened her mouth to speak in answer. Vandal's quiet presence at her side stilled her voice, and she offered him a small smile before answering their questions both voiced and silently asked. Koume is missing. She has been for a few days now, She thought she would be able to get through the words smoothly, but her voice hitched, choking down sobs that threatened to rise despite her tearless eyes. I do not know where she might have gone, She doubts, for instance, that she would have travelled to Moonspear in search of her father, for she had spoken little of Charon ever since she took Koume and Kotake there in their youth.

By her response — or rather, lack thereof — Sheogorath realised that it might be harder than he thought to get through to his sister after all that had happened. He was considering as he looked at Damien, who too avoided eye contact, that it might be easier to just leave this place behind, for it seemed evident he would find none of the satisfaction he sought here. No matter how loyal he remained to his siblings, they seemed to avoid him like the plague and no matter how enticing, perhaps it was time to let them go and spread his wings. Or try a little more forcefully at plucking the fruits one last time, if he was going to go, anyway.

To Damien, he nosed his brother's neck briefly and shallowly without a touch of affection this time, and he murmured, "Soon," as a reminder that his time was running out or he would be outed — it was a last effort to get what he wanted the peaceful way or maybe he needed to up his game and take more drastic steps.

His thoughts were diverted by Potema's sad eyes and he looked at her with a sympathetic frown as he heard the distress in her voice. Koume, then. "Where was she last seen?" asked Sheogorath, deciding to focus now on finding the child as another last-ditch effort — but this time in favour of pleasing his sister rather than his brother and in a much different manner — and thinking of further steps later.

The grey wraith that joined them got a quick glance, a polite acknowledgement, from the dark prince. There wasn't a name to his face yet, but Damien had seen him about the forest a few times already and he was accustomed to his presence. There had been too many setbacks in Damien's ruling of the forest and for that reason he had decided to stay back in the shadows until a plan was thoroughly schemed to retake what was rightfully his, but Damien hadn't seen the down side of his decision before making it, and his ties with the members of Blackfeather Woods had seen a deep damage that would perhaps make for a disadvantage in another moment. That and the fact that his ties with his very own relatives was not the best either. Especially with his brother.

His approach, unwelcome, sent chills running down Damien's spine, electrifying his ruff as the warm whisper caressed his face. He knew what Cicero wanted, and he knew the consequences of not giving it to him, but Damien had never been covered in such a way and he needed to think things through before giving his brother some form of response. For now he stayed still, gave the creep a sideways glance, cold, barren, and shook the thought off his head to address Potema's distress first.

He had the best intentions to help, really, for as strange as the sound of that might be. But some things he simply was not prepared to deal with. How could you lose her? he growled, feeling the anger suddenly boiling as Potema revealed what was troubling her. They were the seed of Blackfeather Woods' future, the Melonii legacy! Maybe it was the anxiety that Cicero had managed to spark within him with his cold touch speaking, maybe he was right in his anger and Potema was to blame, but in that moment Damien simply could not cope with his disappointment and frustration.

Sorry for the wait <3

The silver and ivory male remained silent, head dipping some as Potema offered him a small smile as he'd settled himself closer. He watched Potema quietly, ears arching forward, listening to her voice as she began to enlighten them of what was troubling her and when the penny dropped, Van's cold gaze averted toward the conjurer's brothers as they went on to ask the questions that needed answering, especially if they wanted to mind the missing girl, Koume. And as he stood amongst those gathered, Vandal's cold sapphires gazed around the group, silver ears swivelling a top his lean head as he listened to the much darker male's question sound out, but with more of a growl.

For a moment, Vandal almost felt his eyes narrow, but the feeling passed as the tyro's blue stare slowly averted to the quiet, panicking form of Potema, a sympathetic expression taking over his features as he watched the fearful mother calmly.

Potema shook her head, the memories of that day both obscured in memory's shadow and bright as the sun Magnus above. She went off to explore, as they always do in the morning. I rarely pry in their adventures, but I follow their scents from time to time to make sure they are safe. The last I had of her scent was on Vaati's pelt, but he didn't know where she went, Even Kotake, her twin, bonded with the girl since birth, didn't know where her sibling was. It had been odd, but Potema was trusting her in children's sensibilities. Perhaps too trusting, as it seemed.

Potema's hackles raised at Damien's raised tone. It was far from the comforting rumbles she had expected from her closer brother, and it angered her more than upset her. You are just as much responsible for her disappearance as I, The priestess hissed, her remaining eye flaring in to a flame of blue fire at the dark prince's question. Her voice decresendoed into a whispered growl as the resentment and fury from months past preceded the anguish she felt now. You wanted them after all,

cameo!

Vaati is present, lingering somewhat to the side as the family rushes forward, three uncles and a stranger; both groups of which, he does not know well enough to recieve their compassion. It instgates a silent scowl within his expression, that they suddenly take such a dire interest in the whereabouts of their family only when they are gone; they had not barely sought them out before the disapeerence of his sister. His silvertongue begs to be heard, to call them out on their hipocracy like he has not before, but for the sake of his mother... he does not. Yet. The Dark Master snaps, turning to his mother with a rage Vaati does not like. Instinct kicks in and, despite the unimpressive measure of it, his ears snap back against his skull, baring his teeth in a protective stance against his uncle whom, he does not particularily care for. Koume's plights are her own; and he holds very little compassion for her dismissal of their home. It is not the burden of their mother, and it is not the place of an absent uncle to question their upraising. He does not even blink as his mother confesses the nature of his birth; that too, is not for him to question. Instead does his eyes train on the larger male, staring him down with a severity that warns him of the road he threatens to take. It is once that will guarentee Damien a place within his blackbook, a place that will come back to bite him, one day.

Damien was impatient as always, focussing on Potema's responsibility when it was not her fault. Even Sheogorath could see this. One step wrong could have meant that only two out of three or even none of the three of them had stood here today, and Meldresi couldn't have stopped them. And it happened. Things like this were tragic, but they simply happened.

"Lay off, brother. You know as well as I do that it's not Potema's fault," he said, stepping in and baring his teeth in warning.

As for the matter at hand, Sheogorath realised there was little evidence and therefore little real manner to find her. "If we split up we can comb the territory and its surroundings systematically," Sheogorath suggested, but he left the ultimate decision in Potema's hands. He wasn't too sure they'd find the child this way, but at least they would have tried.

Had she stepped back, had she just accepted Damien's pointless anger as it was and leave it to rest like the rational being she was supposed to be, then perhaps things wouldn't have tuned so bad. Weren't it for Cicero's intervention then Damien would have apprehended his sister in the midst of his temper. He did not want to, he truly didn't, but the mirage in which he was submerged by anger made things really confusing.

His own hackles raised like everyone else's, and his ears pointed forward like two black, threatening spikes. His own growl joins the chorus, a low growl, meaningless, pointless. The spider was right, it wasn't Potema's fault, but it was unlike the dark prince to admit being wrong, so he pushed it. You do not give me orders, he snarled, You may be my brother, Cicero, but you're still beneath me. Make sure you never forget that, he added, pressing forward with a threatening step.

If Koume is not brought back to Blackfeather Woods unscathed I will make it your responsibility, he stated, putting the weight on Cicero's shoulders and probably making everything even worse..

Damien was not a good uncle. Perhaps it ran in the family, perhaps it was a curse bestowed upon the Melonii, that none of them would ever be an appropriate parental figure, worried more about themselves and appearances, things hidden in shadows perhaps, than the real values of family. Damien left his siblings to find Koume themselves that day feeling that he had freed himself from the responsibility. He believed, in his own twisted way, that should they find her alive it would be because of him, that he would be her hero and everything would work in his favor.