The meeting had been unexpected, and while the woman had ushered her children to the safety of their den once more, there was a small part of her that was also relieved, despite what she conceived as Mahler’s betrayal to his word. There had been no glares sent the way toward her or her young—Takiyok’s cold stare had not been missed, but the frigid woman had never been warm to anyone but Mahler and Stigmata. It did not sit well in her breast to be under the reign of the arctic matriarch, but for now, she felt at least her children could grow along in peace… until it was time to remove them.
The thought had seeded itself to her mind in the days after Stigmata’s death—without the General here to hold her, and Mahler as the only wolf she truly trusted, there was no reason to stay. Except her pups were still so young.
She feigned ease to her children as they half-heartedly played nearby. They missed their father desperately—unable to truly grasp what it meant that he was gone and could not return. Coiling beneath a nearby tree, she watched them with a gleaming eye, feeling Mahler’s presence before he came to her sharp view.
She could not decipher the way he looked to her—no sooner did the bristle of her lip begin that he shushed her, and it was the respect and friendship she held with the man that did so without question. He spoke his reasoning—he spoke of elevating her as well, and he was correct in his assumption—it certainly felt like a ploy to placate her for now.
Did he not worry the two women would go further than merely butting heads in pack gatherings, if they would need to work with one another? Or was it his hope to keep stern watch on both of them?
Finally, she chose the most diplomatic route, for now—while she sorted out the internal ache of her heart at the prospect of leaving behind the lake Stigmata had stolen her away to. “I disagree that her status is given simply from her longevity within these mountains. But I trust you, Mahler.” She paused, considering leaving it at that, and yet her eyes levelled upon him squarely. “I’m asking you not to take advantage of that trust. It’s not something I give lightly.”
Feline-like movements would see the sylph push herself to a gentle sit, her eyes still upon him as she studied the marks and scars across his face—he too had seen his own hardships and she could only trust he took experience from them to guide Diaspora. “If you believe it wise to place me as Pionier, I will do my best to meet your expectations.”
For now, she would bide her time and hold on to the decision of the best future for her children. To see how Diaspora would grow from here.
She could not find the words to respond to his own. Her eyes beseeched him as she felt the wilting of her heart in reminder of her beloved’s passing. They had found one another—and then he had been taken from this world. Taken from his families. Taken from her arms.
And so the sylph was Pionier—whatever it entailed and Mahler’s vision was in the aftermath of Diaspora’s loss, she was uncertain. But she would navigate it as it unfolded, and keep her worries to herself for now—while keeping careful watch upon not just the children, but of the other adults reaction to her children.
There was a reasonable part in her mind that knew her comrades wouldn’t harm her litter—physically, though, was not where she truly dwelled. It was their emotional acceptance she sought, and the she-wolf exhaled sharply, her eyes blinking as the fire seemed to die within her gaze as she swivelled her muzzle toward the General, finally broaching a dreaded topic when regarding the scouts. “We seek to move, then?”
He had already dispatched scouts. The thought was sobering, and she turned her eyes to him, unafraid to reveal what she truly thought on the matter, no matter how much it bared her soul to the gargoyle. “It hurts,” she admitted, her gaze moving from him as a frown pulled at her. “But it’s time.”
fade with another round? <3
"it is," mahler agreed, a heavy breath pressing from his chest as if he had been weighted with stones. "i came upon you unannounced, ketzia," he rumbled, "and for that i apologize." a gentle dip of his muzzle. "vould you allow me to make amends by bringing you a meal?"
Yessss. Xoxo
“Your company is always welcome,” she admitted honestly. Besides her children, the stalwart General was the closest thing she would describe as ‘home,’ though the very thought of it would steal her breath. She had relied before upon Stigmata—had relied on others far too many times. She was not willing to place herself in such a precarious position again.
“I’d much rather we find something to feed Diaspora,” she suggested, though before waiting for his answer, lissome form began to lope quicker, eager for a hunt. Whether it was to steal more of his time or to simply cast her mind from turbulent thoughts, she would not dwell on it.