Wolf RPG

Since Atticus's awakening, Peregrine had barely left his brother's side except to toilet. He ate, slept and breathed every breath next to his recovering sibling. Blue Willow was there too, of course, and the two of them couldn't stop beaming at one another. Peregrine found himself hoping they would seize this second chance at a life together and tie the knot just as soon as Atticus fully recovered.

Pondering that, Peregrine decided to give them some time alone together at last. He reluctantly left the Healer's den site, meandering through the woods in search of one of his two lovers. He was oblivious to their recent standoff. He was oblivious to everything except his joy and gratitude over Atticus's improving condition.

Peregrine's absence hadn't gone unnoticed, but Fox had allowed him time with his braindead brother. Eventually, though, she knew that he would break away from his sibling and get back to the same-old, same-old. Not that anything in their lives had ever been anything close to being dull. She had not mentioned her encounter with Lasher, and now that Atticus was "awake," she saw no reason to. Blue Willow and Atticus would get back together, and whether or not they had pups was an entirely different conversation. They wouldn't be bastards. Whether or not they would be born at all... well, that was still up for debate.

“How’s he doing?” Fox asked, approaching Peregrine with all the delicacy that she could muster. Touchy-feelies were not her forte, but she wanted to know if Atticus was all there, partially there, or still just as useless as she had ever known him to be.

When Fox appeared, he wanted to sweep to her side, twirl her around and dance in the leaves already accumulating on the forest floor. He suppressed that wild urge, though he pranced up to her excitedly and nudged her snout with his own, tail waving to and fro hard enough to produce an audible whoosh, whoosh sound.

"He's gonna be okay, I think. He's improving steadily. I'm so happy, I could shit kittens!" Peregrine reported. "Sorry I neglected you the past couple days," he added. "What've you been up to, firecrotch?"

He greeted her with a happiness she had not seen in awhile. It was different from the happiness that they shared, that much she knew. The mental image of Peregrine shitting kittens was so absurd, Fox forced herself to forget about it as quickly as the thought flashed into her mind. To his apology, she grinned, though she'd hardly felt neglected. Sure, they were a couple, but that didn't mean they had to be stuck up each other's asses day in and day out (even if they had been just like that the first few weeks).

“Let’s see,” she replied, pondering what had happened between then and now. “I named somebody a Dingle-Berry Expert.” That alone would surely pique his interest. She wondered if perhaps their children would get titles as grand as the ones their mother wore. Nicknames between the Alpha pair seemed commonplace from the day they had met, so it would come to reason that their children would be given them as well.

Her news was so ridiculous compared to his own, he could've found the relative immaturity absurd. Instead, Peregrine burst out with a laugh. He might be three years old, an Alpha male and a father, yet he would never be too old for good, old-fashioned toilet humor.

"Oh, yeah? Who's that?" he wondered with genuine interest. Then something occurred to him and he quirked a brow and added, "And how did it come about, exactly...?" Had someone been inspecting his wife's derrière?

"Some dude named Fang. Said he and a few others were setting up shop in a creepy forest," Fox replied. She'd never been a particularly good listener, or she would have caught the name of it. "Anyway, this Fang dude was rubbing his butt on the ground and acting like it was no big deal. I asked him if he had a dingle-berry, and somehow that devolved into him being a Dingle-Berry Expert." Fox grinned, amused by her own story. She had a feeling Peregrine would be amused, too.

"Remember when I was on the Board of Proper Border Patrol?" she asked. It had been a long time since then, and although reminiscing was not something Fox did often, she was always happy to strike up a conversation about old times with her beau. She slid into a down, and then gently tugged at Peregrine's forepaw with her muzzle, hoping to get him to snuggle with her.

"Some dude," she said and Peregrine felt a single flicker of petty jealousy that quickly disappeared. It wasn't just that her story was both silly and innocent — and it was both of those things — but his jealous tendencies of yore had really faded these past few months. Hell, he'd once hoped to share her with another man, so what did he care if some random checked out her assets?

When she mentioned their first meeting, he snorted. "I do." He didn't protest when Fox coaxed him to the ground. He lay beside her, leonine, nearly twice as long as his petite, redheaded mate. "I really wanted to kill you that day, at first. I'm glad I didn't." Peregrine chuckled under his breath, kissing her brow lightly. "I remember thinking that you were going to get yourself killed and that it wasn't a bad thing to remove your genes from the gene pool..." He grinned. "And now I'm going to have your babies!" Or the other way around. But whatever.

“I just thought you were good at your job,” she said, pausing to preen a tuft of Peregrine's fur that was out of place. She hadn't been wrong about that. It was clear that Peregrine had retained the plateau quite well, despite all that had happened to it. Still, there were moments when she wondered how differently things could have turned out. It was wasted energy, but she could not help herself. She tried to imagine what it would be like if she was laying aside Haunter, preening his fur instead, nestled in the heart of Swiftcurrent Creek.

Silently, Fox wondered if Peregrine thought the same things about Hawkeye. She wasn't dead, but she had faded from the plateau. It was no surprise (and no loss in Fox's mind), considering she had once reigned supreme. Now, Hawkeye had nothing. Fox's stomach dropped at the thought of anything similar happening to her. “No matter what,” she said suddenly, “I’ll always be yours.” Nothing, Fox decided with certainty, would change that.

"I was. I am," Peregrine agreed in a falsely pompous voice, still chortling, when her next words caused him to sober slightly. He tipped his head and searched her face, wondering what had prompted that comment. Was something on her mind... or was this just her roundabout way of echoing his recent declaration of love? He wondered but didn't ask.

"Samesies," he whispered instead, laughter in his voice, though he nuzzled her to demonstrate his sincerity. Hawkeye was the furthest thing from his mind. They were nothing to one another now, aside from co-parents. And their pups scarcely even needed them anymore. "You and I, we're going to live happily ever after, Mrs. Redleaf-DiSarinno," he promised with his mouth pressed against her cheekbone.

Fox sighed happily, pressing her small body against Peregrine's gigantic one. For a little while, she was content to just lay in silence. Considering the storm of turmoil she usually brought with her, Peregrine seemed to have toned things down a bit. She wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Was she getting too domestic? Fox's most natural state was causing a shitshow wherever her feet took her, and while she'd done a bit of that at the plateau, she'd managed to keep herself from getting in too many fights.

Her mind wandered this way and that, and eventually she spoke up. “So now that Atticus is awake, does that mean he and Blue Willow…?” Are gonna hook up? Fox was more comfortable with another legitimate litter to grow up alongside her own, even if she thought it would be easier for Blue and Atticus to go elsewhere. She knew that it would be taken the wrong way, though. Fox only wanted what was best for the whole lot of them (or at least she would phrase it that way).

A companionable silence stretched between them, during which Peregrine shifted to make himself more comfortable and closed his eyes. He began to drowse, though his mate's voice tugged him out of the murk before he could truly fall asleep. Sitting up slightly, he wriggled his nose in response to an itch and blinked a bit sleepily.

"...will tie the knot? Yes." He only now realized what this meant about Lasher's offer to Blue Willow and the disagreement it had bred between the two Alphas. Peregrine wondered how Fox felt about the pair of them having a litter — they wouldn't be bastards, after all, and that seemed to be the major sticking point — but he didn't necessarily feel like talking logistics right now.

"Life is good, babe," he said simply. They had each other (and he had Lasher too); Atticus was awake; his brother and Blue Willow could be together. Yes, Junior was gone and it seemed her littlest sister had followed in her footsteps. But Peregrine had come to terms with this part of life: his pups would grow up (sooner than he thought) and make their own way in the world. And though he didn't deign to replace them the way Junior had accused, he did look forward to filling the emptying nest with his and Fox's litter just a few months from now.

She nodded, but Fox didn't press for further details. She wished that Haunter had—No, she couldn't think like that. It wasn't fair to Peregrine, her future children, or anybody who surrounded her now. Hell, it wasn't even fair to Haunter. What was done was done. Haunter was gone, and in that moment, she swore to stop asking what-ifs to herself. It was only bringing her down, and Fox knew that she had to stop herself. Peregrine was here, and he wasn't leaving her. Not like Haunter had done.

“What were your parents like?” she asked. The question wasn't important, and she probably wouldn't remember half of what he said, but hearing his voice was good. As much as she hated it when other wolves went on and on, she simply couldn't get enough of his deep baritone. It was likely the only voice of reason she would ever listen to.

Her question seemed like a non sequitur but when it came to Fox and Peregrine, nothing was too strange or off limits. Peregrine took a moment to yawn, then knead his toes in the grass, then against her, before answering.

"My dad was quietly powerful, easy to like and respect. But Mo? Not so much. I take after her more than him. You would've liked her, I think. She had quite a mouth... and an infamous temper. She came by all of that honestly, though. She was totally abandoned as a pup. My grandfather, Sven, adopted her after her parents and siblings disappeared on her. The only one who didn't leave was her sister, Peregrine. And her brother, Osprey, eventually came back. Mo hated both of them for a long time but obviously, in the end, she respected them enough to name us after them."

Peregrine licked his lips and wondered, "What about yours? Your name is Fox and you have a sister named Robin. Let me guess. Your parents' names were Hamster and Elderberry?"

As Peregrine began to describe his mother, Fox came to the realization that she was... basically his mother. The thought was amusing, and she wondered if he had realized it. Then again, Fox hadn't come by her personality due to her family fucking up. Instead, it was just innate. She'd always been a trouble-maker, and that hadn't changed as she'd gotten older. The fact that Peregrine and Osprey were named after their mother's siblings was funny, and Fox wondered if they had looked like their respective namesakes. Probably not, considering nobody else seemed to hold that tradition.

“Coon and Delilah,” Fox replied, the words tasting foreign on her tongue. “Dad was born and raised back home, but Mom… she was from somewhere else.” Fox couldn't remember where. She searched for words to describe them. “They were always pretty strict about stuff, I guess. Maybe that’s why I grew up to be such a rotten little thing. I've also got a stupid lazy sister named Dove and a pretty average one named Finch. Robin's brother is Bandit; he looks just like our dad.” The boys, of course, had the Thistlewood name. It was only ever given to the boys, though Fox had never really understood why. "Tradition," was the word that echoed in her head.

Fox didn't seem amused by his joke but he found it funny and that was all that mattered, right? Lips curved, he listened as she described her parents and a few of her siblings. When she referred to herself as rotten, it amused him.

"I have a sister named Coon. Well, Koontz," Peregrine said. "I don't know where my parents came up with that one," he thought aloud. "Would you ever wanna name our kids after any of them? I like Delilah. How hilarious would it be if we called our firstborn son that? Gender conventions can go to hell," he quipped, figuring Fox would likely not feel the same way.

Fox cocked her head to one side when he asked about how to name their children. “You know how I want to name them, silly,” she replied with a goofy grin before sobering for her next question, “and can we… can we not name them until they’re older? At least a couple weeks?” she asked. Fox knew that most parents named their children as soon as they popped out. Fox, on the other hand, hadn't been named until she was roughly two months old. “It’s bad luck to name them before they start eating meat.” And while Fox typically wasn't superstitious, she didn't want to do anything that might put her future children in danger.

“I guess you can name one of them if you want to. As long as it’s a good name. I don’t get why your family just keeps using names over and over, though. Osprey—the one who’s your sister—seemed to put a whole lot of weight on names.” To Fox, a name was just a word used to easily identify somebody. The fact that there seemed to be multiple wolves running around with the same name was odd to Fox. Especially when they looked nothing alike.

Peregrine blinked at her question. He found it immediately off-putting, though he didn't answer right away, letting her finish. She seemed to object the idea of traditional family names, despite wanting to observe the traditions passed down her own family line. Peregrine smiled patiently.

"I'm not down with that," he admitted. "I've raised kids. Even at a few weeks old, they're developing rapidly, including their language skills. Not only that but... the idea of refusing to give them names is like treating them like they're not persons. From the moment they're born, they're individuals with identities. And they're beloved. Trust me, the moment they arrive, you'll be over the moon for them, firecrotch. You won't be able to help but name them.

And I named Osprey after her aunt to honor my sister. I'm pretty sure she feels the same way as you but, well," Peregrine said with a shrug, "I love her dearly and wanted to keep the name alive in the family. The original Osprey meant quite a lot to my mother. They were at odds as kids but he kept persisting and she finally accepted him. She took care of him — he was disfigured from the time some wolves kidnapped and tortured him — until he vanished, never to be seen or heard from again."

Fox huffed, unconvinced that she would change her ways just because they would be her children. But she didn't argue. If he wanted to name them all before she was ready, that was his perogative. She could call them whatever she wanted, and Peregrine would have to deal with it, she decided smugly.

"Spooky," she replied to his last sentiment about his uncle Osprey. She wondered if the Ospreys of the family were just prone to disappearing. So far, it seemed that Uncle Osprey, Sister Osprey, and Daughter Osprey had gone off and disappeared at one point or another. Though Fox couldn't recall if Sister Osprey had notified Perry of her departure or not.

"So what's this story about the penguin?" she asked. "Osprey said something about it, but she wouldn't spill the beans."

The sudden change in subject gave him whiplash, if only because it was such a total non sequitur. The story about the penguin? He didn't know anything about that... Oh, wait, he thought then, a memory resurfacing from the murk of his brain. The penguin! Ha!

Outwardly, he feigned innocence. "Penguin? I don't know about any penguins. But that might be a fun name to set aside in case one of our pups takes after their Uncle Crete," Peregrine mused.

Fox gave him a pointed look. "Don't act like you don't know!" she then said, nibbling on his shoulder. "Osprey said you would know what I was talking about." Her nibbling turned into playful bites on his foreleg as she tried to squeeze the story out of him.

Penguin might be a rather good name, and Fox thought it might suit a penguin-looking pup, should they have one. She tried to imagine one with a white stripe down its belly, but being the unimaginative wolf she was, she didn't get far.

"Oss likes to spin tall tales," Peregrine countered evasively. It was true enough. His sister was a storyteller at heart, a very imaginative woman. It was entirely possible she'd made up some crazy story about a penguin to tease Fox.

Speaking of teasing his wife: "Do you even know what penguin is?" He stuck his tongue out at her, then nipped playfully at her fiery cheeks.

She rolled her eyes and shoved him with a single front paw. If he didn't want to tell her, well, then she would just have to be in the dark about that particular incident. Surely, if they spent enough time together, she would have plenty of embarrassing stories to gather about him.

When he questioned her knowledge on penguins, she mock-scoffed and huffed. “How dare you question my knowledge!” she said, taking a moment to gnaw at his shoulder. “Don’t you know I’m an expert on all things animal?”

"Oh, reeeally?" Peregrine purled in reply to that lofty allegation. "Did you know Mo — my mom, that is — was like a walking encyclopedia on birds? She told us she hit her head and just woke up with this crazy vast knowledge. That's where Flightless Falcons gets its ranks. You'd pick a bird, any bird — even a penguin! — and she would magically know its Latin name. My rank, Sulcirostris, was some type of cormorant."

Fox listened, wondering if he was spinning some tale or telling the truth. She figured it probably didn't matter one way or the other. “She sounds like a real hoot,” Fox replied with a grin, hoping Peregrine would get the terrible pun. If not, well, perhaps she would just have to tackle and tickle him until he laughed at her jokes. “Who’d have guessed that a fox and a bird could get along so swimmingly,” she mused, yawning with her last word.

"You would've liked her a lot, I think. Either that or the two of you would've been at each other's throats constantly. I'm not sure which. You're both hotheads," Peregrine mused with a fond smile. "I miss Mo. Although she was a spitfire, she was a good mother and a fantastic Alpha. I like to think I take after her."

"Sleepy?" he teased when she yawned. "How about the bird boinks the fox and they spoon afterward?" he suggested. "Or... maybe in the reverse order," he amended, sprawling on the ground with a contented groan, letting all his limbs go limp and his eyelids droop.