Restless, she paced. Her form wove through trees, purposely brushing against the toughened trunks of the trees, trying to relieve the sense of fiery unrest she was beginning to feel.
Her heart quickened. Her stash of herbs was nearby, and she wondered—idly—a suppression of sorts possibly placed there. She could not recall—could not remember in this very moment she felt so constrained.
A soft whine escaped her, crooning to a spot Tamar frequented, wondering if the Morphe was around when she needed a friend.
that flame licking the back of one's legs.
tamar knew it.
her flanks had begun their gentle thickening.
she came at once to meadow and looked warmly on the woman.
"speak to me." her pale eyes were encouraging.
She knew what this was—she had never given to the temptation of it before—and there had even been a time when her heat seemed to have dwindled away—whittled to nothing by stress and heartache, no doubt. A flash of gem green eyes set within proud inkjet features haunted her still—another whine given as Tamar spoke, pulling her gaze sharply up, seeking her.
“I’ve always tried to repress this, since my young days it was so miserable to deal with,” she allowed, her shoulders arching in a stretch—restless, claws grazing at the snow covered ground as she sought Tamar’s friendly warmth—pulling strength and reasoning from her as her snout tried to nestle closer to the woman’s cheek, her ear. “What should I do,” she murmured, the question lacking—and yet everything. Reyson desired a family—was he ready for one?
Was she?
…. And… would the other men in her life stop haunting her?
tamar nodded.
"you should take them," she said, arms encircling her loved sister. "do not have children until you are ready. until you are certain. i was with arsenio. and if i had not been sure, i would not have done this."
she smiled. "he will wait. you have a life to love one another and to have children."
Tamar crooned to her—her words pulling the logic to the surface. Surely, her time of child-bearing was coming to a close, but the end truth came from if she felt so uncertain, what business did she have trying to raise children?
She curled closer to the woman, settled by her presence and warmth, ruminating on the fact that Tamar had known almost instantly with Arsenio. Meadow loved Reyson—of course she did—he was the first she wished to share news with, to seek for company. But that did not make her emotions simple, as one believed it should. As it was, perhaps, for him.
And yet that small nagging fear kept her arms up, a shield—always a shield against him. “I’m afraid I’m keeping him in limbo… That if I admit I love him, he will leave me, as... they always do. That if I don't tell him I love him... he will leave me...”
tamar did not know this pain.
and yet she felt it.
"it is hard to have your heart so open," the morphe murmured. "but i think it is harder to live so guarded."
it required more effort, she supposed.
"whatever you choose, i know it will be the right thing."
Would it, though? Mollified only for the moment, she stole the rest of her time with Tamar in silence, busying herself by preening at the woman now, assuring the health of their matriarch and her pregnancy, and every so often, brushing her cheek to the other woman’s—gaining a strength in her presence and friendship.
Decisions would need to be made. And it would turn out Meadow's decision would not be of sound logic.