Herbalists' Cache Got caught, both hands on the smoking gun

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Mae was quiet as she and @Akavir parted from Hearthwood. It felt oddly like leaving a piece of herself behind — but it wasn't quite as bad as leaving Swiftcurrent Creek had been. She didn't regret her decision. She just wished it could have been different.

Her mood lightened considerably as they neared the valley, however. It was easier to turn her thoughts to other things. So uh... She glanced at her father. Lilitu and Arielle. Tell me about them. One of them was at Swiftcurrent Creek now, from what Akavir had said, and Mae had no intention of walking into this unprepared.

They had departed the willowed forest and began the trek home. The outcome of his visit had been the last thing he had expected to occur—and for the first hour or so the man felt he walked on eggshells. As if anything he said would change her mind—would remind her she despised him.

Would turn her from him.

But the warmth in the sun begun to stir relaxation into the Mayfair’s taut muscles—the reminder that spring was now upon them, and soon, the leaves would return their world to the lush paradise he longed for.

An ear flickered in the direction of the girl’s voice—a thoughtful rumble escaping him as he considered his words, though he did maintain pace. She felt her eyes upon him, and he dared a glance to her as well. “I was born in the creek… My parents left it behind and I dispersed from them. That’s where I met Ibis… my mate. I went to live on the mountain with her in… a kingdom of sorts, I suppose, where she birthed our girls, Arielle and Lilitu.”

It was hard to withhold the disdain in his voice when he spoke of the Empire. The corruption of kingdoms, it seemed, still lived on.

“That was years ago, now. Lilitu found me when I first was reclaiming the creek. She said she would return—but she only did so now.” The corner of his lips flickered downward as regret flooded him. He had known something was wrong—he had searched for her. He had failed, again. “She endured a bear attack. But she’s home now. I haven't seen Arielle since she was about your age, if not younger.” Again, regret. Again, the haunting of guilt shrouded his features. "She went missing, when we tried to found ourselves a new home and pack. The Empire... I had to get the girls and Ibis away from its corruption. When I went to look for her, I got injured, and separated from them all..."

He launched into a little summary of his life. Mae hadn't expected it, but she wasn't about to complain. The creek was a birthright of sorts for her family, it seemed, and her father's retreat from what sounded like tragedy after tragedy. Injury, corruption, missing children, a bear attack — and more had happened since, Mae knew that. Did it ever end?

She had more questions, but suddenly she wasn't sure she wanted the answers. She could guess at them anyway.

Mae fell silent, turning her gaze back to the path ahead. Asking her father questions was a depressing game. She wasn't sure she had anything better to share, though.

Mae was silent as he shared the depths of his life with her—some of the worst parts of it, at that. She did not respond—her eyes focused on the path before her, and with that, he allowed the topic to drift. Likely—a blast of her history was hard to hear—and when she was ready, he would share more.

“Someday,” he offered, clearing his throat as they continued, his own eyes facing toward the path before them, as if the smooth grasses, dirt and rolling hills were more dangerous than the extremely rocky path of their reconnection to one another. “We should go to the ocean. Your great grandfather had once ruled a pack there. Donnelaith.”

He wouldn’t mind seeing the sea, again. It had been some time, now.

Her great grandfather. Why should she care about some dead old man and his dead old pack? It was true that Mae wondered sometimes about her heritage, but not now. Not today.

Still, she could tell that he was trying. Arric said he would take me to the coast, Mae said after a moment. Late spring or early summer. You could come too.

I've been there on my own a couple times already, She added, recalling her lone excursions to collect gifts for Reverie. It was okay. Got sand in my ears though. Mae didn't particularly like sand.

Did it feel as if Mae shielded herself in this moment? Yes—bringing Arric and the other man’s planned promise seemingly placed a buffer between them—as if Akavir would once more let her down, but it was okay… Because Arric had promised her.

He rumbled his consent—while he would have hoped for a more meaningful trip with Mae, it would be a lie to say he didn’t dread more silent moments just like this.

They had much healing to do.

“I’d like that,” he offered to her—and if Arric went back to the shores, it was possible he would need some backup after last year’s mishap.

He felt a small smirk tug at his lips at her admission—“Never liked the sand much myself. Or the salt in my fur.” But, it was something to explore—and he wanted to reassure her he wanted to show as much of the good in the world as he could.

Even if all he had done was bring about the bad.

Mae nodded, silent for a few more moments.

I was gonna go over the mountains when I left. See what's out there. Stopped by Kvarsheim first, Her eyes were fixed firmly somewhere in the distance. Her voice had gone distant, but she kept talking. Mae hadn't told anyone this, not a single soul, and she'd never planned to before now. Skáld asked me to stay. I said no. I think I hurt his feelings.

Then I left, and every fucker who saw me from there to the mountains tried to kill me. Still don't know why.

Story time with the Frostfur-Mayfairs was so much fun.

Kvarsheim.

His lips curled back in a light sneer, though he spoke nothing on the matter—the less he saw of them, the better. He would have inquired why she felt the need to visit them… but it wasn’t as if they hadn’t given the Creek plenty of assistance and kindness in the past.

Too bad that had been blotted out by one of their own attacking his subordinates and then coming to their border to demand punishment for said subordinates.

He didn’t know who Skald was—it was probably for the best.

Instead, his lips downturned more at the information of just how her journey went. Solemnly, he gave a soft sigh. Defeated acceptance, maybe. “I’d like to say that surprises me, but it doesn’t.”

He bit his tongue in that moment—refraining from sharing his original vision of the creek with Mae. What was the point?

It had long become nothing but a feather in the wind.