Rannoch and
@Mannoah had done a good job in avoiding each other. Rannoch, who was still getting used to the territory, spent most of his waking hours outside of the den as he attempted to familiarize himself with the territory. But, for some particular reason, he found himself lounging lazily in the den past mid-afternoon. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he just felt the need to stay in, despite how beautiful it was outside.
With everything that had happened in the past few weeks, Rannoch had taken much time for inner reflection. With the help of Deirdre he had been able to to learn about good and evil and from Skellige he had learned to love the sea and her blessings. Beliefs wise, Rannoch had completely different ideals than he had in Neverwinter. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but, he supposed that there wasn’t much he could necessarily do to change his experiences. He attempted to re-focus his thoughts from the past and towards the future. Now that he was here, what was he going to do about his future? Was he to still be a Guardian? Or did fate have another path for him?
He sighed, curling into a ball as the though laid heavily in his mind.
Mannoah was irritated. Unlike Doe, she had been experiencing morning sickness in full force - only, it did not just happen in the morning, as she was just finding out. The dark woman almost didn't make it out of Skellige's den before emptying her stomach onto the gravelly beach with a loud gag sick splat. And then, feeling particularly dreary that day, she turned her blazing eyes toward the little gray intruder with which she shared her palace, looking for a bit of sympathy.
With a quiet harrumph, she plopped her bottom down and waited for the gray child to pay some sort of tribute to her sorry state.
It was in the midst of his deepening thoughts that a sudden, unappetizing, sound broke the silence that the two had shared. His eyes widened and he turned his head to face Mannoah. As his sights laid on the pregnant woman, he also soon found the remnants of her last meals upon the den floor. His face scrunched up and he jumped to his paws quickly as he looked from the floor and towards the woman quickly, at a loss of words.
There was no sympathy in his eyes, only confusion, as he finally settled on the somewhat familiar woman. “You… okay?” he asked awkwardly shuffling back a step. “You… need help, uh, cleaning yourself up and getting that taste out of your mouth?” He took a step forward, offering the woman a smile. He had never been around a pregnant woman before-- though this fact was still unknown to the dense child-- and he would soon learn that this type of woman was an entirely different creature.
Mannoah was, by nature, an easy-going creature. She had seen much in her time and was rarely ruffled by things she now considered trivial and mundane. The disdain of others was under this category, as were famine and death. But somehow, in her state of heightened emotion, vomiting became a very big deal.
It did not take much encouragement from the boy. She'd seen his disgust and confusion first, but as soon as he smiled at her, Mannoah swooped down on the perceived weakness - her long limbs carried her swiftly toward the other, and though she was larger than he, she did her best to tuck herself against his chest as she laid down, legs folding underneath her like a newborn fawn.
Words meant nothing between them, so the woman gave a soft whine - half demanding and half pleading. Pay attention to me, she said, twisting her head to set the full force of her burning gaze upon him.
He watched her carefully, looking for any signs of her wanting to go with him so that he could attempt to help her clean up. Instead, she moved to shrink herself against him. Taken aback in that moment, Rannoch looked to her with surprise. What was he supposed to do now?
His mind raced as he looked down to her and was met with look of demand and pity. Frowning, he attempted to think about what he did when he had tried to calm Lucy when she had been scared. After a moment or so passed, Rannoch reached over hesitantly so that he could place his head on top of hers, knowing that that had always calmed his dark-furred friend when she was distraught.
Lingering, as uncertainty came upon him, Rannoch hoped that this was what his denmate wanted.
He did not seem to appreciate her nearness. So be it. Mannoah began to furiously groom her paws and forlegs, which had not been tainted by her vomit but seemed offensively soiled to her all the same.
Sand. Mannoah hated sand.
She paused when the small wolf finally reacted, placing his head atop hers. Nonplussed, Mannoah flapped and ear to feel it brush against his face. So this is what passes for attention, here, she thought, one lip curling up over her teeth in a show that was more disapproval than anger. But the pup could not be faulted for his paltry attention-giving skills. Perhaps he had not been taught, or perhaps it was simply not yet in him to seek the approval of a woman. (Eventually, he would learn. They all learned.)
"Bueno," she snapped - That's enough! - pulling her head away and raking a sharp stare over the youth, as if by the power of her burning gaze she could force him to understand her.
Bueno!
His head jolted back in the moment, confused by her reaction. Hadn’t this been what she had wanted? Or, perhaps, he had done it wrong. He was all the more confused by the word she had spoken, as her common tongue was not one that he had heard before. Mentally, he flailed desperately at his den mate’s reaction, but he attempted to hold his composure on the surface.
“I-I’m sorry?” he squeaked, his ears flattening and his gaze averting, unsure what else to do in that moment.
His obvious floundering and eventual look of contrition was enough to appease Mannoah. Privately, she began to feel a little bad for her short temper with him, though she found herself feeling surprised that such emotion was still possible for her. Though her time on the earth had been relatively short, it'd been no les full of contention than the lives of those much older. Remorse for her own actions was not something she often felt. It was dangerous to regret things.
Outwardly, she allowed only pity to show on her face. With a tiny sigh, she arranged her ears into a more friendly position and attempted to copy the boy's action, setting her own head against his in an awkward
pat-pat.
Feeling weary, the woman stood and drew away, going to bury her vomit in the sand to keep the smell from bothering her too much. Her own actions and emotions were confusing her. She was not usually one to seek comfort or to give it.
His wavering confidence was relinquished as the older woman put on a more sympathetic face. He appreciated this greatly and showed such appreciation by returning his smile upon his features. This lingered until she drew away.
Without another word, Rannoch stood and followed after. “Here, let me help,” he offered with a swaying tail. Despite how gross it would be, he wanted to help.
Together, they covered up the small pile of vomit. Later on, when it was dry and hard, Mannoah would take it to the sea to properly dispose of it. For now, though, she was exhausted. Her whole body felt like a wreck - bloated and hungry and full at the same time. The emptiness that filled her was not one that she thought could be quenched with food or drink.
She was beginning to hate this shore, these beings inside her. Hate the way Skellige seemed not to care. No one did - and the small wolf hadn't. Not until today.
"La vida es tan fea," she whispered to the boy, taking comfort in the fact that he could not know what it was she was saying. "Estoy cansado de ello."
Once the deed had been done, Rannoch looked onto the expecting mother hopefully, curious to what would happen next. Would they part ways again in favor of their own interests? He was expecting this just before he spoke. As he was about to turn and return to his nest, she spoke to him quietly in a tongue that he had never heard.
He frowned, unsure how to follow up. Of course he wanted to be there for her, but, at the same time, he could truly understand what she was attempting to express. So, for a lack of better words, he replied just as quietly in way of an apology.
“... I’m sorry.” His ears flattened and he looked to her, wondering what she would do next.
When she's said her peice, the boy said his. They might as well have remained silent for all the good it did them. Anger and bitterness bubbled up in the dark woman, and she turned her head away from the other in an action that was almost petulant.
Golden eyes burned and welled with tears, but she would not let the other see her cry. Picking herself stiffly off the ground, Mannoah stalked down the beach, far and away.
Dumbfounded by her next actions, Rannoch did not move to chase after her. His stare was blank as his ocean-like eyes followed her fleeting form and for quite some time the child lingered within his own mind and wondered what he had done to make her leave like that. Eventually, he curled up into a ball and attempted to sleep off his concerns.