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mild PP to set the scene, lmk if this isn't okay <3 @Dacio

along the edge of the cliffs sat a boy. except, he didn't look so young anymore. he looked older now, hardened, as stoney as the gray that coated him. he sat and stared out over the water, moonlight reflecting off the ocean, stars glimmering overhead. drageda was peaceful, quieter now than it had been in a while. 

she approached him, appearing to be made of moonlight herself. she was lighter now than she had ever been, even in life, and the freckles danced upon her nose like the stars in the sky. inverted, she was, as if the sky had fallen inside out onto her coat. her green eyes glinted, shining green like august leaves. her voice, though, sounded the same. and it called to his back. "dacio..."
The rhythm of the sea against rock was a balm to Dacio's weary soul. He drank deep the sound of each wave as they reached out to Drageda's proud cliffs and, despite his internal struggle, he appeared entirely at peace as he gazed out over the endless water.

For the first time in weeks, his mind was quiet. While he wished for nothing more than the moment to last forever, the young Gona knew better than to cling to it. Everything good was temporary and the worst lingered. Life had taught Dacio this time and time again in his seven short months of existence, enough to make him feel that he harboured enough heartache to last a dozen lifetimes.

Inhale. All that he could do was recognise these quiet moments and appreciate them when they arrived. Exhale. The fleeting periods when he could simply be, when he could cast his woes to the wind and breathe again.

Beneath a full moon, the sea rippled in shades of midnight illuminated by ethereal blue. Clear skies offered views of another world: an endless navy littered with swirls of milky way, peppered generously with stars that glittered and twinkled in some faraway place. Dacio lifted his chin to admire the scene for a while before he closed his pastel eyes and think of gentler times.

"Dacio..."

A feathery voice, unmistakable, called to him from behind.

He sucked in a breath, unprepared for the sudden swell of emotion to surround his heart and tighten his throat. Brow furrowed, he kept his eyes firmly shut. For all his dreams of Portia, never once had she spoken. At times he was fearful of the awareness that she did not and recalled how fiercely he'd hope for her to acknowledge him in his past visions, despite not knowing how he'd respond.

"You are not real," the boy said out loud. "This is a dream."

He couldn't look at her, because he was scared to be hopeful. He was so afraid to hear her speak his name, and look over a shoulder to see the emptiness of a space where she should've been.
portia smiled, but her expression deepened from sadness, her green gaze settled upon his own dark features. his voice, whether or not he meant to, was pained. the way he looked away from her, the way he spoke. hardened. pained

"are dreams not real, my gona?" she asked so softly, so sweet, standing still before him, "look at me. i am your mother."
The voice called to him once more, though he hadn't expected the sharp insistence of her tone. He hunched his peppered shoulders and huffed, defiant. Dacio had never been a disobeient child but now, hardened by battle and tragedy, he was a shadow of the gentle boy he once was. An uncomfortable silence followed his mother's demand, one alive with the anxiety of a boy who'd knowingly wronged his mother, before his pallid eyes fluttered open and he cast his gaze across the glowing blue sea that stretched as far as he could see.

If this is a dream, he willed, and inhaling deeply as he tried to mentally prepare for the terrifying sight of a drowned wolfess that he imagined his sire had seen that fateful day on Drageda's shore, then let it be a good one.

Hesitant, the silver Gona gathered to his paws. He took his time to turn around, afraid of what he might see, and he focused on the rapid increase of his own heartrate. Blood coursed his veins so rapidly that he felt his head grow light, as was evident in the sway of his step. Mouth dry, Dacio blinked upward to look upon something that took his breath away.

Portia stood before him, far more vivid and glorious than he remembered. She appeared brighter than ever, her peridot gaze smiling up into his own wide eyes of a more muted shade. A creature made entirely of moonlight and without imperfection, untouched by the horrors of the world: a true embodiment of vitality. He stifled a sob and swallowed his heart, which had managed to rise and lodge itself in his throat.

"I miss you every day," the sterling youth croaked a whisper, overwhelmed suddenly by the urge to reach out and fit himself against her. His very visible distress kept him rooted, however, for fear that she might turn to smoke should he dare touch her.
"come to me," she said gently, looking upon him with all the love in the world, "i will not go until you wake." she would not come to him, she could not bring herself to harass him -- not when the matter at hand was so sensitive -- but she longed to hold her son again. her only son. 

"i've missed you, you are doing so well, i am so proud of you," she told him that time, her ears pressing forward. she could not see much. everything she saw was blurry and appeared in a fog, but she could hear. she kept tabs on every wolf she could -- nosier in the after life than she was on earth -- but portia was not present anymore, and she never would be.
It was strange to look down upon her, when all he could remember was to look up. Dacio had grown considerably since his mother's disappearance, having reached a period of rapid growth that came with adolescence - so much that he far surpassed his remaining sister. He'd always been destined to outgrow the females of their family, but he couldn't say that he liked it now that he stood before its matriarch. The simpler times as Goufa were what he most longed for in those breathless moments when he found the unconditional love in the vivid emerald of Portia's gentle eyes staring right back at him.

Her voice beckoned him closer, but he found himself temporarily incapable. To make one wrong step might rouse him, and he felt so desperate to hold onto the sight for as long as the dream would allow. Fear rooted him there on the cliffs, fear that this would be the final opportunity to gaze upon the speckled features of his most beloved parent. Dacio trembled, his joints locked beneath the tension that tightened each muscle on his frame, as he sought the courage to take that first bold stride forward.

At last, his paws carried him closer. He felt as though he floated in her direction, light-headed and dizzy, but the steps did not cease. Everything else around him fell silent and, ears pricked forward keenly, the young Drakru ducked his muzzle and hunched his shoulders to tuck himself snugly into his dam's inviting embrace. Her warmth enveloped him. Dacio breathed out heavily into her fur which he buried his snout roughly amongst, and let his eyelids close over to better savour the closeness that he'd found himself yearning for most in recent weeks.

He remembered what it was like to be small again. He remembered how she'd kiss his brow when the thunder frightened him, how she'd lulled him to sleep on his restless nights. How she was always glad to see him, no matter how badly her leg pained her or how depression had gripped her following Dalia's departure. Dacio had always relied on her to brighten his own day, and could only hope that he'd been capable of providing light she so needed in her own time of heartache - even if it hadn't been enough to keep her.

"I need you," he said, crouching lower in a desperate attempt to press himself closer. "Why'd you have to go?"
he came to her, finally, after much hesitation. portia could not say that she blamed him. heda had once told her that her own mother had visited her in a dream -- perhaps many, and relatives other than her mother. portia had believed her, sure, but not until now could she even begin to understand it. she didn't even understand now. how she manifested herself in dacio's mind was beyond her knowledge, even though portia loved to say she knew it all. the boy   crumbled into her breast, leaving portia silent. his warmth was just as it was when she was alive. he was the same boy he was when he was a child. 

but it was so different now. in so many ways. it would never truly be the same. never again. 

he pressed himself closer, talking again. portia pressed her chin to the blade of his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut as she held him tight. "i didn't mean to. i didn't want to," she said gently, quietly, painfully, "i was sick. i didn't know." she didn't. but she was better now. she said this. "i am better now, my mind is healthier and my leg does not pain me." 

there was silence -- from portia, regardless of if dacio responded -- for a moment. she relished in the moment, holding her son. she didn't want to, but she pulled herself from his embrace, finding his pale green gaze in her own vivid one. "you do not need me, hun. you are your own wolf, capable of so many things on your own and with the rest of drageda," she told him, as sweetly as she could, but she wished she was with him. and it hurt that she wasn't. "i need you, dacio," she then said, green eyes searching his, "i need you to do me one favor, one last time, please."
@Portia, sorry for the wait here!

Her voice was featherlight and delicate - a balm to his wounded soul - and Dacio gave himself permission to relax into her embrace. He cast aside the knowledge that this couldn't be real, that sooner or later he would rouse from slumber to face the world without her once again. Instead of dwelling on the impossible thought of having to bid her a solemn farewell, the young Gona did his best to fix his attention to the here and now.

Portia shared with him something he didn't want to believe: that she'd been ill, and in death she no longer suffered. He'd blamed Sequoia almost instantly for his greatest loss and, though he did not voice his opinion on the matter, he knew he'd carry the resentment for the rest of his days. Dacio listened quietly to what his speckled parent had to say, body trembling beneath her touch as he clung desperately to her in fear of her slipping out of his grasp.

Even when she slackened her hold on him, Dacio was unprepared. He wasn't ready to let go, and with a strained whimper he scooted toward her as she stepped back, but she was swift on her paws. Her vivid eyes rose to seek his own, and he blinked away the threatening haze of tears to better look upon her. She assured him softly that he'd fair fine without her, that he didn't need her, but it didn't stop his heart from yearning. "Anything," he whispered hoarsely in response to her request as he reached to touch the tip of his nose to her own - eager to maintain contact with her. "Anything - for you."
"find your eldest sister."

her voice was careful as ever, soft and sweet and steady -- but worry filled her breast, that her son would hold too much resentment for poor dalia that he would ultimately not want to seek her out. "dalia is along the coast still, i've sensed it, but i cannot travel to her as i have to you," she told him with a flick of her pale ear, "tell her all that has happened." dalia deserved to know. sequoia had left without a trace -- without a goodbye -- and it had hurt portia so terribly. dalia had at least said goodbye, even if it hurt all the same. 

"i think she has suffered something -- i don't know what, i can't see very clearly," she continued, her brow furrowing. that dacio would find out how dalia faired was enough for her poor, restless spirit. even if tragedy had struck, she just wanted to know her eldest daughter was safe. "my sweet gona, can you do this for me?"
"Find your eldest sister."

His ears lifted and brow arched in surprise. Why? Dacio wanted to hiss, but gritted his fangs instead. While he didn't resent his older sibling in the same manner as his piebald littermate, the young Drakru could not deny the bitterness he felt at the mention of her. Everything had spiralled out of control following her departure from the cliffs. While not wholly responsible for their mother's death, Dalia was not entirely innocent.

He didn't want to leave home, not even for a little while. He didn't want to go looking for the sister who'd put her own selfish wants before their family. He didn't want to leave his father and Opalia behind to wonder when he might return. He didn't want to care. Dacio averted his pale eyes and turned his face away to cast his gaze out over the glowing blue sea to ponder how best to reject the Fisa's request.

But when he looked at her again, he knew he could not. Lobes pressed back against his crown again as he sought the bright emerald of her stare, and he emitted a breathy whine as he crept forward in attempt to fit himself against her once more. "I will find her," he murmured, letting his muscles slacken as he shoved the thought of his mission to the back of his mind in favour of holding onto what was left of the time shared in Portia's embrace.

When he woke to cool darkness of Hougeda, he was painfully aware of the hollowness of his chest. Blinking away the sleep in his eyes, Dacio looked around the dim cavern with disappointment; the soothing light was gone, and the warmth had seeped from his aching bones.