Wolf RPG

He wasn't home, but that suited Harlyn just fine as she set to work spreading the coniferous boughs around the edges towards the mouth of the den.  She initially had not been able to bring too much, but a quick taste of the air and the right twist of the wind made it easy for her to find a little copse of hemlocks just a few minutes away.  A couple of trips back and forth and she had a pretty decent collection adorning their den, both on the inside and piled neatly on either side of the entrance, swiftly growing frosted with the snow that was weaving its way through the tall trees.

Happy with her work, Harlyn crept out of their home to sit just outside the den.  The wood was quiet and growing dark as the long Winter night stole upon it.  She shut her eyes and began to hum to herself, prayer weaving through her mind and coming out in the wordless music she sang.  Mordecai would hopefully be home soon, and she was quite content to wait for him while little snowflakes fell into her fur, some melting, others simply clinging to the longer guard hairs upon her back where her body heat could not quite reach them.

When the overcast sky above him finally produced some wintry precipitation, he had made the move to guide himself back towards home. Though the slight hitch of his gait remained, he moved with much more ease than the week before. It made traversing some of the more winding courses of the woodland easier, though he had also tread into it for the illusion of cover it provided. The bare canopy above him did little to negate the dusting of snow, but there were also the pockets of needled timber that offered relief. It relieved more than just the passing of the wolf; the birds tucked away to the interior of the trees chirped and shuffled.

From there, it did not take much time at all to find where he had been housed, though needless to say that Harlyn had taken it upon herself to discover it; he would have much preferred to bed down where the snows did not pile too high, but the allure of warmth from another had long won him over. He spied her relatively easy against the pallor of the Hollow, tucked away near the den mouth that had curiously changed since his earlier departure. He gave pause to such a change, though his gaze lingered on more than just the yuletide trimmings. An ear turned back as he surveyed her, not entirely certain what had changed about her but nonetheless intuitive enough to lay his assumptions to rest.

With a hushed woof from between the underbrush as he pressed on to close in their distance, his greeting was simple; his tail waved merrily behind him, his head sinking low to reach out and nudge her fondly. He had not completely excepted to find her retired to their shared accommodations so soon, but it was a welcome sight all the same. Little doubt to him, she would soon be prodding and probing, tending after him and wounds he could not see, or reach; he would make his attempts to delay them all the same.

Harlyn had lost track of time as she waited, watching the snow and allowing memories of years past drift through her mind.  His voice brought her back without startling her, and she turned to settle her gaze upon him as her tail wagged softly.  Her tongue flicked against his face as he reached for her and she growled gently as she leaned against his touch.  As she pulled away, her eyes began to roam his frame while her nostrils twitched to gather his scent.  His wounds were healing well, but Harlyn was not likely to stop her routine inspections of his condition any time soon - likely not until there were fluffy little puppies toddling around her paws to distract her.

Which reminded her... "I have news..." Harlyn said, unable to contain the smile in her voice, "But first, how are you feeling today?  Be honest, young man."  She dipped her muzzle and canted her head to give him a stern look, though there was humor in the smoldering embers of her eyes.

A thin smile spread itself warmly across his countenance as she responded with warmth, though it may have been fiendishly shy in some regards as well. But he didn't get far in delaying in the inevitable inquiry to how he was, though her breadcrumb dropping of news had baited his curiosity. Mordecai hardly opted to bite the bullet in that case, only relenting to turn his blindside to her as he gently twisted his body around hers.

"Why don't you tell me," he murmured, edging his cold nose into the warmer reaches of her neckline. This too was a clever ruse, as he tested his own ability to distract her from fussing over him by preening her coat. He figured his own actions would speak for him more — he was certainly feeling well enough to try and instigate something here. Whatever it was that seemed off about her, he liked, and connecting the dots between that and whatever news she could have possibly had did not interest him.

Maybe finding out whether not he could get some and delaying her tending after him did, though.

He seemed ready for the question, and he came equipped with a plan for avoiding it.  Harlyn frowned playfully at him, rolling her shoulders.  She was very tempted to let herself be seduced by him.  Her heat was long over, but she still felt pretty frisky.  Maybe it was the baby hormones, maybe it was the fact that she just felt excited.

She leaned into his ministrations despite herself.  She still wanted him to answer how he was feel, but... "I suppose if you were on the brink of death you would be behaving yourself better..." Harlyn murmured, turning her head to nuzzle the soft fur at his throat.  She still held back the information that was clearly intriguing him.  She couldn't just give it all up now, could she?  "Unless you've gotten an infection and it's addled your brains, making you more devious than usual."  She nipped at him gently.

A chuckle escaped him as she returned the favor ever so slightly, ever entertained by her response. She was not without wit either and it too was one of many things he enjoyed from her company. Mordecai lifted his head to graze his muzzle across the crown of her head. He rested it there, almost tempted to preen there as well, but his rejoinder was swift to come in its place.

"And you'd let that happen to little ol' me?" he murmured, only then offering her a tentative lick to an ear. "I thought you already knew my brain was addled." And of course, given the state of her nature over the last fleeting few days leading up to his own misadventure, it may have been a keen assumption to wonder if it hadn't been.

Mordecai had a very good point.  Harlyn would never have let something like what she'd suggested happen to him.  She'd never allow a wound of his to get infected in the first place, let alone permit it to spread and do further damage to his system.  She wouldn't let it happen to any patient of hers truthfully, though it would have destroyed her more were she to fail him rather than some other wolf.  He was her future.  Which reminded her...

"Addled just enough to my liking," she confirmed with a grin, leaning slightly back to look at him with tempered mischief in her eyes, "We should probably do something about that though... I'm going to need you to have your wits about you in about... hm... maybe a month, give or take..."  Putting on a thoughtful look as  though distracted from him, though she was simply trying to bait him further.

Addled just enough for her liking, he should have suspected that from the start. She had always had her sights set on him, though for how long he had never speculated. For him, the start of their unusual, at least somewhat, team had been borne out of his departure from the Spine. Where he had thought she had simply not wanted to stay beneath Cara's rule had evolved into something far more, and even in the end where there had parted she had returned to his side. And Mordecai had been fine with that, much in the same way he found himself fine with their unspoken arrangement.

An arrangement that he remained unaware was about to change in a not so unexpected way. "My wits are always about me," he answered cheekily. "But daresay I ask what the prognosis is?" Knowing her, she was liable to tell him he was going to keel over in the next month because he was delaying her from tending to him. And that was what he anticipated in the few beats of silence that proceeded her reply, and already he worked to match her wryness.

Harlyn snickered softly as he claimed that his wits were always about him.  She knew that it was true (for the most part), but it was fun to tease him.  Her heart began to pound harder with anticipation as he murmured a few more words for her.  Her reply came blaring to her mind, but she hesitated to say it.  How would he react?  What would he do?  What would happen next?  And most of all.. What did any of that really matter?  

"You're going to be a father, Mordecai," Harlyn informed him finally, turning her gaze softly to his face earnestly to see his reaction with her heart in her throat.  How was that for a prognosis?

It wasn't quite the response that he expected, a point no doubt made by the tension that gripped him in her embrace. It explained much and in a way, did not entirely strike him as some sort of world-ending surprise. But it wasn't a total expectation either; it left him breathless for just a moment and reeling for longer to find words. Little doubt stood in the way that it explained more than that, as he felt certain she only shared that information because she knew for sure. There had been much bigger things at play when they had changed locales, a much longer game that had been resting at the back of his mind that had begun well before they had even left the confines of the plateau so many months ago.

"That's quite a condition," he said finally and surprisingly wry. The tension he felt ebbed away slow, but steady. But it too, plateaued out as he considered reality rushing in. It was sobering. "You're certain? A month?"

When he responded finally, it was with a taste of that familiar humor of his.  The panic that had tried to grip her the moment she'd said the words dissipated, leaving her with a wagging tail and a slowly growing grin.  He seemed to be taking it well in spite of the tension she had felt in her body only seconds earlier.  It was, she realized, more than she'd hoped for, and in her joy she overlooked the tension as it grew back in his frame.

"Yes," Harlyn replied almost breathlessly, "I felt them today.  It seems almost too soon for it, but I have no doubt what it was..."  She felt the gleeful tingling in her throat as she remembered.  It had been faint, unbelievable, but unmistakable.

In spite of his concerns as they toiled on the back burner of his mind, joy did enter his being. It was an infectious sort coming from her and as he withdrew to better look at her, his own tail waved easy with it. She did not seem entirely different to him, but there was something there that he had perhaps disregarded before. It had not been the sort of thing one picked up on by mere observant alone and whatever that particular feeling, or aura about her there was seemingly suited her.

"You were waiting here so you could tell me, weren't you," he decided.

At least above all other things, that made the most sense to him why she had been keen to hang around waiting to see when he'd make his way back. His routine was probably clockwork; go around until he was worn and then retire for a bit. Rinse and repeat as necessary. Even in spite how well he healed and continued to do so, Mordecai did not possess the stamina to go endlessly as he would have liked. The revelation flip-flopped his emotions effortlessly, and his concerns went along the wayside in his confidence.

"I suppose this means we have a bit to plan," he went on to say, rounding back to her.

Harlyn took his question more as a comment and she lowered her chin with a meek smile as she flushed.  That was exactly why she had been waiting for him, though her original intention had been to celebrate the solstice with him.  The changing of the seasons had quickly become the furthest thing from her mind the moment she'd felt their little bundles squirming inside of her, though, and even now she would have been hard-pressed to recall it.

"Yes, we do," Harlyn admitted when he mentioned planning.  There would be much to do - prepping the den, building caches nearer by to ensure they wouldn't have to go too far to keep her fed once the puppies arrived, making sure she was well-fed now to ensure that her milk was rich and thick, and making sure the pack was made aware so that they knew to step up their work as she would soon be forced to step back from it.  But for now... "But not right now, I think," she said after a beat, "Right now, I think maybe you hold off on the planning and the prepping and the fretting and the running and just.. sit and be happy with me."  She closed her eyes and placed a gentle kiss upon his muzzle, leaning back to gaze adoringly at him.

While she affirmed that they did have much to plan, she merely wanted his company for the time being. And that was a request he could give in to. His jaw clicked shut for effect as he settled down beside her, reclining far easier to his haunches than he had in a while. And while it may have been easy for him to stay quiet, his mind was well beyond inclined to keep going. So to distract himself from such a rabbit hole, he let his solitary gaze linger on the expanse of land that was out ahead of them both. Land that right now was easily picturesque as a quintessential winter. But eventually, that gaze could not help but slip back towards Harlyn, studying her features curious and warmly.

Mordecai settled in beside her, acquiescing to her request not to give in to the need to fall into business mode and begin the prepping for their litter. There would be plenty of time to plan, and probably plenty of time to do some panicking as well. But for now, Harlyn was eager to keep it at bay. There was much about their situation that was stressful, but there was so much more to be excited for.

"They're going to be so small," Harlyn murmured happily. It was an obvious comment, and of all the things she could have foretold about them, their size was not exactly the most interesting. There were plenty more thoughts going on in her mind, but for now she left them to her imagination.

Her commentary came not long after he had rested his gaze on her, and he felt the stirrings of faint mirth spark at such. Yes, they would be small; naturally he pondered how small they were right then and there. It was a mystery of life that he would not come to understand and to some extent, experience for himself. Once upon a time, they had been small too and through some sort of magical happenstance they now found themselves as bookends to what would hopefully be another generation.

"They won't stay that way for long," came his answer after a thoughtful pause. As with all things, they would grow and change. They did that now, he suspected. His seemed a dour statement aloud and he sought to amend it cheekily: "But I suppose it isn't too early to place bets on who they'll take after more."

Harlyn grinned at his response.  Her mind had already begun to wander to what they might look like once they grew a little.  She had no doubt that she wanted her boys to be as handsome and charming as their father and her girls to be as kind-hearted and strong as her mother had been.  Maybe they'd get her grandmother's sharp wit and sass, though hopefully not her grandfather's short temper.

"I feel pretty confident that they'll be brown," Harlyn said with a small smirk, "And they'll have eyes.  And ears.  And teeny tiny noses!"  She poked the tip of her nose against Mordecai's as she said it, chuckling softly as she pulled away.

"I would hope that they would have four feet, and at least a tail," he went to add. Her nudge had been all it took to prompt him into thinking of more things. Though in seriousness, he hoped that they would come out well. He hoped they would survive. But the solemn thoughts were left to be scattered and pent up until another time, and so he pressed on.

"But brown? Why not grey," though who could really guess how they would come out. Harlyn had more darkness in her coloration than he did, but he had managed to inherit some of the red from his mother. Genetics were certainly something he could ponder over, though he hardly knew the science behind it. Whatever they ended up, that's what they would be and so on and so forth.

"Or perhaps they would be both."

Harlan chuckled softly as he responded to her humor with a bit of his own. She nosed his fur of his cheek fondly, watching as his expression grew pensive. She wondered what he thought of, but he voiced it soon enough leaving her no more room to wonder. His query made her smile, though in truth it felt like there was very little in this moment that could make her frown.

"Ah, but we Cinderlochs are never gray," she said theatrically, pulling out the full welsh accent that she'd learned from her grandmother but didn't often allow to tine her dialect, "Shades of brown that sink to black, but never a touch of gray. We are wolves of the earth, not of rock and ice." Harlyn dropped her drama after that, grinning before leaning in to preen the fur behind her mate's ears.  Mordecai leaned into it with a happy growl, and Harlyn was content to let the conversation meander as they happily continued making plans for their childrens' futures.