Shy Deer Steppes tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

She could not make up her mind whether she wanted to return home or continue to roam.

Madhu had never wanted for roaming. Neither parent had been strict with her about it—hell, her mother had encouraged travel, even. She'd seen a lot already in her few seasons, and she knew she would see more and more as the seasons progressed.

She ought to return to court, to inform her father that Moonspear had received their message.

And yet. . .she lingered.

Madhuri surprised a group of vultures that had gathered around a carcass; their black wings beat furiously as they took to the sky, but she persisted, sniffing around the frozen body—

Bones picked clean.

She was hungry. Perhaps not hungry enough to stoop to carrion. . .but if she was to continue wandering, she needed to find something to eat, and soon.

She'd left Sumac once more, this time only for a day trip down the valley. It was hard to say yet whether new life has taken hold, but all the same, the black bear was driven to find a good place to make her den.

There weren't quite enough trees in this area. There wasn't quite enough anything, to be frank. Still, something drew her steadily along, until gradually, she realized she was following a scent. She paused, drinking it in with deeper, huffing breaths and a curled black lip —

"Madhuri?"

It seemed impossible that her granddaughter should be here in this place. The black bear was gripped by a premonition — none of her offspring were where she thought they were. But there was no telling if this was paranoia or preternatural insight, so she set it aside. One child, at least, was near at hand. Easy turned in a right circle, scanning her surroundings — and spied a flock of vultures clattering away, startled.

With her heading marked, the black bear loped toward the disruption. Sure enough, a pearl was hidden among the sands.

"Chhotee ranee," she called out, warmth blooming in her chest. It had been some time since she'd been able to see her only grandchild.

Was that? It couldn't be. And yet. . . Could it?—

"Chhoti rani." The voice was true. Madhuri stepped toward her grandmother, a large smile blooming over her face at what the woman had called her.

I wish, the yearling said ruefully, though not without humor. In Mynydd, I am twysoges—'princess.'

She touched her golden muzzle to Easy's cheek, affectionate. She'd butted heads with her mother, sure, but there was no love lost between her and her maternal family—nor even with Eldest, really.

How are you? Madhu asked, cocking her head. And what brings you so far from home?

And, for that matter, was her mother here, too? Her uncle? Her cousins? Madhuri's head spun slightly, suddenly, and she took a moment to steady herself as she contemplated the prospect of an unexpected—and slightly off-putting—mass family reunion.

"Bah! Ni, I say!" the black bear exclaimed, greeting her granddaughter with affection. "You will always be queen of Mynydd to me."

And what was she doing here instead of Mynydd, Easy wanted to know! Her curiosity was poorly disguised, but she gave the girl a chance to either keep her secrets or bring it up on her own. She was grown, after all, even if it seemed just yesterday that she'd been small and underfoot.

"I am well," she said, measuring the girl suspiciously with her eyes. Was she eating enough? "You will be a niece again this spring. Must I still patiently await the day I become a great grandmother?"

Kids these days! None of them wanted to settle down!

"As for home — the nest was empty, so I thought I would check up on Valiant and Arjun. They're out this way, up in those moon packs." Had Madhuri heard of them? "I thought Anjali might be going to visit you, but I sent a message when I left all the same. They must have just missed you."

Or perished on the way. Easy hadn't been particularly attached to that messenger, however, and he was easily pushed from her mind.

What Easy said was treason in Mynydd—but they were not in the kingdom. Madhu held her head high, basking in the glow of the praise.

Ah, really? she replied, to news of her status as niece, and then— Grandmama, I've yet to have my first heat. Shall I make the seasons run faster?

She listened to news of home—well, her mother's home—with patience. I have not met Valiant or Arjun here, but perhaps soon, she replied. I came bearing news of our king's death—my grandfather Llewellyn, the Restorer. Did you hear of it?

Probably not; the wolves of White Spine and Round Valley were nomads, and hadn't paid much attention ever to court gossip. My father, Taliesin, is king, now, she added.

And me, a half-blood princess. A bastard.

Will you settle here, Grandmama? Madhu asked, canting her head in query.

"I don't see why you won't," Easy sniffed, waspish. But there was a bright gleam of mischief and affection in her eyes that said she was not truly disappointed.

Truth be told, she was not disappointed to hear about this dead king, either. Any other grandparent was competition, in the black bear's eyes. She tried to look sympathetic. "I hadn't; I am sorry to hear that," she lied, far more interested in the next tidbit. "How is your father, after all this?"

What she meant was, How is he treating you? She tried not to be overbearing about it, but she had made no secret of her suspicion that they did not feed or pamper Madhuri nearly as much as they ought to in that place. They were uppity, in her opinion — although she had spent precious little time in the kingdom.

"Right here? Probably not," she answered, her voice wry. "But perhaps in the meadows a little further north. I am getting to be too old to climb those mountains." But this was not what she wished to discuss. "And what about you? Are you heading back to Mynydd?"

She saw through the false sympathy but thought little of it. Why would Easy care of the king's demise? Nevertheless, she accepted the condolences.

Father is king, she answered matter-of-factly. He is well. And he sent me here to inform Moonspear of Llewellyn's death. Grandfather took refuge there once—did you know?

A pause, to gauge interest, then she continued. I. . .not yet. I think I will still travel, she admitted. Maybe we'll settle close by. I would like that, Grandmama, she admitted, smiling.

Her posture had relaxed, normal affected mien dissolved into her most natural state. Kind, pleasant. 

So you really are having children again, Grandmama? she queried.

It was not strange for Easy to think of her granddaughter as the daughter of a king. It was the kingdom part that was a little stranger to her, but really, it was her blood that deserved it if it was anyone. She couldn't help but glow with pride and satisfaction when she was reminded of it.

I didn't know," she admitted, her head tipping to the side. "But I do know that we sheltered a princess of Moonspear when I was a much younger woman. Morningside did, when we lived at Dawnlark. It's funny how these things go, isn't it?"

The smile that warmed her features when Madhu told her she would not be returning to Mynydd had little to do with her pride or satisfaction. It was hard not to see herself in the young woman, at times — but it was harder still not to see someone even more beloved.

Impossible, in fact.

"I would like that, too," she said, her smile bright. "You could come and visit any time you like to tell me about all your adventures."

She would not ask Madhuri to stay with her — but she didn't think she had to.

"And yes, it looks like it," she said with a laugh, though it was hard to tell what was baby weight and what was just regular Easy weight. "I doubt I'll be the only one in the family. Valiant has a lady friend, now. And Arjun leads his own pack! They'll be flocking to him like crows on a carcass, mark my words!"

She pressed her paw over Madhuri's.

"You must promise me you'll break a few hearts while you're away from your kingdom," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Kiss a boy. Have some fun."

Her eyes and smile lit at the coincidence. Funny, indeed. As if there was some sort of divine connection between the two. 

And as for the rest—

I will. . .make the most of my time here, she promised, albeit blandly. But her gaze twinkled, and the left corner of her cheek tucked tightly inward. She meant mischief. Oh, Grandmama. I cannot believe you're here!

And expecting! Her eyes lit briefly upon the dark belly before returning to Easy's face. Who's the father? she asked baldly, cocking her head.

The two women shared a look that spanned the generations between them, and Easy laughed, enchanted to the core with her granddaughter.

"Neither can I, to tell the truth," she replied, her head swiveling in the direction of Blacktail Deer Plateau. "It's been a long time since I've truly thought to settle in these lands."

Her head whipped around at Madhuri's question, her eyes wide and scandalized.

"Never you mind!" she chided, though the effect was questionable, due to the broad grin she couldn't quite fight off her face. "He was strong and pretty — that's all that really matters, isn't it?"

Tall and pretty and far too close in age to her granddaughter, but that was for her to know, and for Madhu to speculate however she pleased.

"But I am traveling with a young man named Sumac," she went on, her tail whisking. "He's quite handsome himself, you know. And single, and so polite! You ought to meet him."

Easy's grin concealed nothing. It had been a good time—and now her grandmother was pregnant again. She said a silent prayer for the woman's health; she was older, after all, and nothing in this world was guaranteed.

Hmm, she murmured in reply to talk of Sumac. Is he a prince? Or some wayward royal?

She would accept nothing less—truly. Her time in Mynydd had spoiled her rotten, and even if she were a bastard princess, she'd cling to the latter part of that title like a spider monkey.

The black bear scoffed, scandalized but still good-natured.

"He's much better," she insisted, but it was clear she would not push Sumac on her granddaughter any further. She leveled a severe look on the girl — one that was spoiled by the obvious admiration in her eyes. "I hope, for both our sakes, that you will not be forced to find there are more important things in the world."

In the mean time, she would keep her eyes open for a nice prince.

"Enough about boys, then," she went on, turning in a slow circle and zeroing in on something in the distance. "Let's hunt, shall we? I'd like to tell your mother that I at least saw you off with something in your belly."

More important than status? I don't think so, grandmama, Madhu said reasonably, chuckling a bit. But she let it be, seizing upon the chance to hunt a bit before she left again.

Let's do it. What game? I'm sure this prairie has a lot to offer, she added.

She fell in step beside her grandmother. Easy had never made her ashamed of her "commoner" bloodline; on the contrary, she was proud of the blood she shared with the woman.

Proud to stand with her, run with her, hunt with her.

A shame that blood did not run blue.

The black bear's response to that was an indulgent smile. Truthfully, she hoped that Madhuri would bag herself a rich one. A prince with titles, a king — Easy believed that she deserved nothing but the best. It was just a matter of determining what was best that always got so tricky.

"I'm sure we'll come across something," she said. "We can chase down a few rabbits between the two of us, if nothing else."

The two women trotted off to hunt.

Shall we fade this one? I'd love another when I am a little more settled into my routine!