Dragoncrest Cliffs swell of the sea

Thuringwethil is most thankful for the discussion with Wildfire about the bird that followed her from Drageda to the Caldera with a riddle of an omen simply to plant doubt into her mind. It worked, in a way. The fall she made to Vaati in the war, despite their overall win, had been skewed and forced her off her game. It opens up a whole new light since her return, relief in her system once more, and even the worry about their new neighbors is at bay.

It does not stop their new routine, or keep her from the borders, as she searches along the northern border this time, following the scent of @Étoille. When it breaks away from the edge of their claim further inland, she alters her course and trots smoothly through the redwoods until she comes upon him, chuffing for attention once he is spotted.

 Since arriving to Drageda his  life has been a series of tasks, a peculiar circumstance of timing. Faced now with having no set goal, no path to scout or pack to infiltrate, Étoille isn't sure what to do with himself. Heal, sure. In a prior life, the opportunity to laze about for an extended period of time would have suited him greatly, even, but he's grown so used to having something to do ... it just feels odd to him.

So he wanders the territory aimlessly until heda intercepts him. "Bonjour," the titan greets. He pauses, and then adds, "how do you greet someone in your tongue?"

Wildfire had been through this phase three times now and was pretty certain she could spot the pattern. Trying not to get ahead of herself, she calmly plucked herself from within the hollow redwood, stretched in the February sunshine, then sniffed the air and began tracking her mate. Her heart thumped in her chest despite the slow pace she enforced on herself and her mind was spinning on its axis. But the Feisripa did her best to remain calm as she closed in on the commander across the woods.

The Heda was not alone. Wildfire licked her lips when she saw Étoille. She offered him a polite nod then turned to ask Thuringwethil if she could speak to her privately for a moment. But even as the words were to spring from her tongue, she pressed her lips together. Despite the frantic feelings running amok within her, there was no hurry. She drew in a deep breath, mustering patience.

"Hei," she breathed, unaware that she had just inadvertently answered Étoille's inquiry.

He turns and greets her, a word she is not familiar with but he has spoken more than once to her. His follow-up question confirms the suspicion but she does not have a chance to respond as Wildfire does, popping up out of nowhere. Thuringwethil turns to her for a questioning moment, though it only seems appropriate she is here for this moment. After a beat, she looks back to Étoille with a dip of her head. “Hei. Or heya,” she says, though they sound like the common tongue in that regard. Many of the words have their similarities. “Bonjour,” she says though the word does not fit in her mouth and it doesn’t sound the same. She smiles awkwardly in apology. “That is the greeting in your tongue?”

He dips his head as Wildfire approaches, not recognizing her greeting as the answer to his question until heda repeats it. Hei ... he would not have placed that due to it's similarity to 'hey', but he tests it out anyway. "Hei," the titan repeats to Wildfire, his accent giving the syllable a slight flourish. 

"Oui," he answers heda, not particularly bothered by her clunkier pronunciation (after all, he mangles their language with his distinctly French intonantion), "yes." He glances between the women, wondering if Wildfire seeks heda's company alone, but beyond a questioning look does not offer to remove himself yet.

Normally, Wildfire would have found this conversation—a bilingual exchange—at least somewhat fascinating, even if she would have a terrible time following along. But with what was on her mind at present, she found it very mundane. She didn't say that, of course, still managing to muster her patience even though she desperately wanted to blurt out, "I'm going into heat again soon!"

Something else popped out of her mouth. "Heda, did you know Étoille's mother was French? That's the language he's speaking." French is the language of love, a voice in the back of her mind whispered, reminding her starkly of her predicament. Wildfire drew in a sharp breath and remembered to smile, the expression coming across as more or less genuine.

The small talk exchanges between them and she awkwardly smiles, listening to Étoille repeat the greeting and say something else, translated to yes. It is not weird on his tongue but their words are clunky and simple, at least, instead of the smooth way she’s heard him speak once or twice. When Wildfire offers an explanation, with a fact about the brute she does not know, she turns to look at the fiery woman with a slight cant of her head. “French?” she asks, glancing back, but feeling like she can’t work her way out of the chit-chat to her real purpose for finding her friend.

There is something happening in this benign exchange he can not quite put his finger on, but suddenly he feels uncomfortable. "Oui," he repeats, his rumbling voice awkward. He glances between Wildfire and heda, and dips his head slightly. He clears his throat. "Er." Hm. "Shall I ..." The steltrona trails off, unsure how to exactly say "fuck off from this conversation and leave you and your wife to talk", but makes a vague gesture indicating something along those lines.

Wildfire doesn’t answer her question for clarification and she’s left confused, though Étoille agrees—or makes the sound that he agrees—and then offers to leave. Her eyes widen a little, glancing to her mate and back again, before she stammers out a hasty, “oh, no-no, I was looking for you.” Thuringwethil shifts awkwardly. Last year, Wildfire approached Dio and took care of the awkward part but standing in front of the wolf she wants to ask, she isn’t sure how to exactly do it. She’s always been to follow through but something feels weird and she can’t explain it. Certain that she looks like she’s lost in the last few seconds of panic, hoping to keep him here, she clears her throat. “Well, we were. We were wondering if you’d sire our litter this year,” she asks, and does her best to hold her gaze when she’s never felt the need to break away before.

Étoille blinks. He blinks again. Of all the potential outcomes this strange but harmless exchange of pleasantries had, this is not one he thinks he could have forseen.       

Fatherhood is not something he has contemplated for himself before. If the time were right, if he had a lover, perhaps, but as it is, his tendency to float unattached through life has prevented him from delving too deeply on the subject. Although this is not a conventional instance of fatherhood. This is more.. a donation of sorts. 

Which brings him to his second thought: why him? Étoille knows heda appreciates his contributions to the pack, but surely there are other men available, men who are part of Drageda's culture. There's Dio and.. 

Huh. It is mostly women, isn't it?

Abruptly he realises he's been quiet for too long and clears his throat. "Er, I am... flattered," he says, flustered. "If - if that is what you want, I - of course." "Why me" is probably a rude question -- would come off not how he means it -- so, without any real reason to say no, he might as well just say yes off the bat. 

This is a weird, weird day for Étoille. 

Despite Wildfire's best efforts to make small talk and not imbue the conversation with a weird sense of urgency, Étoille seemed to pick up on something unspoken and offered to leave. Before the Feisripa could decide how to react, Thuringwethil spoke. With only a brief preamble, she vocalized the request the two women had only decided on very recently. Wildfire felt her heartbeat quicken immediately, her attention snapping to Étoille.

He went silent for what felt like an age, during which Wildfire held her breath. When he hesitantly agreed, she nodded. "It is what we want," she replied. Only then did the air gush out of her lungs. "Mochof, Étoille." She licked her lips, then glanced between her mate and their would-be baby daddy donor. "I guess now's a good time to let you both know that I'm pretty positive I'll be going into heat within the next few days. I recognize the signs now."

He takes a moment to answer and Thuringwethil stiffens, uncertain what’s going to come out of his mouth. They’d been rejected once before but they never held any ill-will toward them after, instead moving on to someone else. If he were to turn them down, too, she supposes Dio would fall next in line. Before he speaks up, she glances to see if her wife has any apprehension before she looks back and waits.

The first few words don’t sound all that promising, but he falls into agreeance and her tail shake a few times over her spine, taking a step forward with a nod but pulls back from getting too close. Wildfire thanks him and Thuringwethil nods once. Tt is a surprise she thinks she’ll go into heat soon, having barely time to digest the information, and her smile fades a fraction before she shifts back but finds she doesn’t really have anything to say.

Awkward.

Well. Well. His uncertainty still lingers, but a slightly vain impulse rises in him too and he has to resist the urge to preen. "Mochof," the titan repeats, curious (a thank you, he has to guess, but?). And then: oh. Étoille glances at heda, waiting to see if she'll say something about this new information, but she doesn't, and he doesn't know what to say either. But he can't just not say anything. "Ah," he settles on, "that is.. good to know." Is it? Not that he's worried about his ability to perform, of course.

 "So, er, you will.. call for me when it is time?" He guesses. He's not exactly sure what's expected of him beyond the actual .. insemination .. but he cannot imagine it will be any more awkward than it is in this moment. He'll roll with it.

It wasn't unusual for Wildfire to say something that caused awkwardness. For whatever reason, she found it more entertaining than embarrassing at this particular point in time. She glanced between the discomfited Étoille and the shifty Thuringwethil and openly laughed.

"Yes, it's going to happen soon. We'll come find you when the time comes," she assured him, eyes still sparkling with gratitude. "And full disclosure: Heda will be present for it." She had to bite her lip to tuck back the snort that wanted to break free. If only she had known the term "ménage à trois," Wildfire would have made the obvious joke. But zut alors...

The brute thanks them in her tongue and her ears swivel a little on her head and he tries to figure out how everything will play out. Thuringwethil only nods her head to the question but Wildfire puts voice to both of them and, to her fear, informs him of her condition. It had been the same last year, with Dio, and it hadn’t necessarily been what she wanted but keeping Wildfire comfortable is what matters, especially when it comes to this. She tries to mask the discomfort with the situation but she offers Étoille an awkwardly apologetic look that she really didn’t want to be there and hopes it won’t… make him change his mind. Heda turns away then, finding something else to look at while the close up the exchange.

end here? lol

Oh, boy. As if it could not be more awkward. He feels as uncomfortable as heda looks, his own gaze turned away. Very interesting snow they're standing on. Menage a trois is the furthest thing from his mind, as the initial confusion/pride fades into a vaguely awkward sense of resignation (although, truth to be told, he is excited in his slow, dull way -- it is a big ask, after all). "I will await your call," he says at length, forcing his gaze back to Wildfire. Unsure of what else to say,  he dips his head and waits to be dimissed (hopefully. Please.)

Quelling the urge to giggle at the mounting awkwardness, Wildfire glanced between Thuringwethil and Étoille before smiling and saying, "Mochof," again. "We'll call you," she also affirmed before nudging the commander, dipping her smudged snout at their future donor, and slowly padding back in the direction of the redwood tree.