Rannoch snoozed by his father, tuckered out from an adventure in the day. It was midafternoon, now, and both Rannoch and his father rested in the Summer sun for a time. Cypress and Eshe had been laying there, too, amongst the group; she moved to rouse the boy whose likeness was more to her than his father, and then quietly gestured to her side and drifted toward the forest.
As Cypress and Rannoch grew, Eshe’s role in their lives changed — their need for her did not lessen, but it shifted in a palpable way. In their infantile stages, her boys had required little more than heat and nourishment, but they had needed it constantly. Now that they were ambulatory, they spent a great deal of their free time with each other or on their own, expanding their respective horizons step by tremulous step — and although Rannoch was more outgoing in that regard, seeking company in wider circles than his older brother, both of them were equally comfortable meeting and talking with strangers. Their playful tussles for dominance were more frequent now, setting the groundwork for the wolves they would become; Cypress was learning to use his leaner build to his advantage but hadn’t quite gotten the hang of things yet. It was good to be alive, he felt, turning his face toward his mother, the sun of his universe, with a sleepy smile and an eager whir of his whiplike tail.
Rising to his paws with a soft, slightly wobbly push of his paws, Cypress stretched out each of his legs individually with a stork’s gangly stride and then trotted eagerly alongside his mother, saying nothing — he didn’t want to risk waking Rannoch. The boys loved one another, but cherished any one-on-one time they could glean from their doting parents. “Hey, dawlin’ Mama,” Cypress piped up when they were out of earshot, adopting his mother’s southern charm with ease, “you so pwetty today!” He wagged his tail as he looked up at her, the force of his wriggling nearly knocking him flat in the hindquarters.
Eshe smiled at her son, her tail waving wildly behind her once they were out of earshot of the den. Her son mimicked her word-choice, she often called her babes her darlings, and her heart warmed to hear him regard her as she regarded him. Her boys--all three of them--were the light of her life. She felt she could not live without a one of them. They had adopted Lucy into the fold, and Eshe adored her, too--coddled her, when permitted, to boot--but her love for Rannoch and Cypress was a fierce thing without limit.
How sweet of you to say, honey!
She kissed his brow gently, her tail loosely swaying, now. And you are handsome as ever, my lovely little prince. Though I can hardly say little anymore, can I!!!!!! Why, you've gotten so big already, sweetpea,
gods, to her, it was true! Wasn't it yesterday he was a mewling little thing? What would you like to do today...?
Archiving this. We can have an updated one if you want! ♥
Greedy paws splayed clumsily over his mother’s shoulder and flank as Cypress ran ungainly circles around her. “Mama,” he entreated her, using the full force of his misty blue eyes, “when Noch’n me play I always lose. I wanna win, Mama.” He darted in, nearly tumbling over himself as he feinted a shadow nip toward one of her graceful wrists. Unless she expressly allowed it, Cypress was exceedingly gentle around his mother and treated her like fine china; still, she was a wolf — and a lean one at that. Surely she could teach Cypress in her own way how to fight and win his battles against his brother. “I’m not big enough,” he said, and his thin shoulders slumped despite her sweet compliment. “How’m I gonna win if I’m never gonna be like Noch — and Paw?” He clamped his lips at the last word, for it had cracked in an embarrassingly babyish way, and his eyes had filled with tears. “Mama, teach me,” he begged. There was nothing he wanted more.