Whatever happened with Lestan, Reverie knew that she would need to speak with
@Akavir — and soon. So she parted reluctantly from the man she loved (so strange, to think of him that way!) and sought the Creek's alpha. She was cautious as she passed through the territory; though the scent of Swiftcurrent was on her even more thickly than that of Kvarsheim now, Reverie was wary of being in this place that was not hers. Kvarsheim wasn't really her place either, but Bjarna's blessing eased her tension some.
Nothing helped here. She startled at every noise, once even fleeing in a panic when she thought someone was approaching. Her experience with Riverclan would never truly leave her, she felt. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe she ought to be wary of packs.
The squirrel dangled haplessly from his jaws—meagre in its offering, and yet any sustenance for Jakoul was better than none. He moved with a certain swiftness in the direction the dark coywolf had determined was perfect for her birthing—but the pale golden features of Reverie intercepted him momentarily—his eyes falling upon her slender and skittish form, and he slowed, dropping the meat to his paws before studying her openly. “Are you feeling better, Reverie?” He wasn’t sure what to make of the pretty girl—a wisp of a thing that somehow had caused a bit of a ruckus between two of his pack mates—somehow, he did not know a thing about her and yet their paths had crossed a couple of times now.
Akavir was not difficult to find, nor difficult to approach. He asked if she was feeling better. No, not really, she thought, but that just wasn't what you were supposed to say when someone asked. Still a little - shaky, but I wanted to find you. To apologize,
Reverie ducked her head slightly as she said it, ashamed all over again. I'm sorry I caused problems for your pack. If there's anything I can do to - make it up to you, I'd like to try.
They had brought her here, given her food, and she wasn't even one of them. Most likely for Lestan's sake, she thought. It had to be annoying for Akavir, right? At least, that was the assumption she made. Easier to think of herself as an annoyance than to consider the possibility that it just wasn't as big a deal as she thought.
She spoke of finding him to apologize—to make it up to him, and Akavir found his brows arching in mild surprise, slightly confused by the offer, though feeling a twinge of amusement as well. She was such a shy thing—as if misplaced in this world like a puzzle piece and trying to find the point in which she connected and belonged.
Youthful.
“I don’t make a habit of having wolves repay gestures of general kindness,” he rumbled, eyes fast upon her. Assisting a wolf that had fallen ill, even if only for a spell, was hardly something he found groundbreaking. “Kvarsheim is an ally and as such, it’s well-being is important to us.” And, it was clear, she was important to Lestan, in the very least.
He rejected her offer, and though it was a kind rejection Reverie couldn't help but feel slightly crestfallen. She didn't want to be a burden, especially not in the name of Kvarsheim. It wasn't her place anymore. She could have said any of these things, or all of them, but she felt it best not to argue with Akavir's generosity. He was related to Lestan, after all, and she wanted to make a good impression!
Well, I -
She realized she didn't know what to say. Ultimately Reverie settled on a simple Thank you.
It felt more meaningful than it had before, when she'd been so distracted by Lestan. Before she could stop herself, she added, So... you're related to Lestan?
Redundant, really, but she was hoping for clarity. She never had asked about Lestan's family, and she didn't know that she ever would after seeing the way he'd crumbled when she'd asked why he left the fire lake.
She seemed to understand—or did she? His eyes looked over her closely, wondering of her. She remained a mystery to him, but when she questioned his relationship to what he assumed was her beau, he gave a small smile—an opening for conversation, apparently. “Somewhere in our family tree,” he confirmed, though he wasn’t quite sure how. Cousins, likely, somewhere in there.
With a casual nod of invitation, Akavir bent down to grasp the squirrel, leading her toward the area Jakoul had made her home—though it would seem the she-wolf wasn’t here, for the moment, and so he deposited the meal for her at the entrance of her den for when she returned—perhaps he would have time to find something larger to feed the woman. Something far better than the rodent.
With a cant of his muzzle, he began to wind closer to the river, eyes tracing the waters. “Lestan has seemed interest at our family history,” he shared, finally, crouching closer to the edge of the waters, waiting to see if any fish would come by. “I plan on taking him sometime closer to the forest my grandfather ruled for a time, nearer the ocean. Maybe you’d like to join us?”
Sometime—when he had answers regarding his daughter’s arranged marriage to a man in Akashingo, and when, perhaps, Jakoul had settled into motherhood. Spring.
So Akavir wasn't sure how they were related. Reverie wondered at that; she'd never known her extended family or anything about them, only that her parents hated them. What would it be like to have such an extensive family? She thought of what Lestan had said about spring, and promptly pushed that notion away. She was still too young to have children!
And besides, Akavir was speaking of the ocean. A forest beside it, teeming with the history of Lestan's family. Reverie didn't think twice before she agreed. Oh, I would love that!
And she meant it, truly. Reverie offered a smile, settling by the river where Akavir had led them. Does it have a name? The forest.
She could see that he was hard at work feeding his packmates, and remembered then what Lestan had said. He was expecting children here.
Her own thoughts wandered once again. Suppose they went to the ocean and stayed there? Suppose she and Lestan started their own family in that forest by the ocean? It was a sweet thought, but an impossible one; a future that could never be. Reverie, after all, could not stay. She sobered slightly to remember it.
He was surprised at how excited she was by the prospect of traveling with he and Lestan—whether it was curiosity, or a bout of wanderlust, he couldn’t say—but it planted a seed of knowledge within the man that he logged away for the moment.
“The forest was called The Sentinels. The pack was called Donnelaith—though it disbanded when there was a forest fire.”
She settled nearby—her excitement previously had been radiant in many manners, but now, he could see her thoughts settling, and he wondered of it as she began to wilt slightly before his very eyes. “If traveling is something you enjoy… Lestan is a fine diplomat and if Kvarsheim was in agreement, perhaps the two of you could do some scouting of other nearby packs for us?”
Plans for the future. Reverie tried to maintain some of her brightness, but she felt her mood darkening with each word of Akavir's. This was — exactly what she wanted! All of it! Lestan wanted her with him, and Akavir was offering to let them travel together, and she could have none of it. Because of Tybault, yes, but because of her too; because of what she was.
She was the girl in the reverie, and the thing about dreams is that they always fade.
Akavir reminded her of Atlas, she decided. There was a clarity to him, a steady focus like the deepest waters in The Gilded Sea where the light shone through endless blue depths and illuminated everything within. A rare sight; Reverie had only seen it once. She thought of that now as she answered. If Lestan wants that, I - well, I already travel a lot,
Spoken in the tone of an explanation; Reverie would never say no to these suggestions. But doubt gripped her when she thought of Lestan and his wants. Do you - think he would want to?
Surely Akavir had some basis for suggesting it, right? Maybe Lestan had said something to him. But if not... well, Reverie wasn't certain she wanted to be the one to ask him about this. What if he said no? She didn't think she could bear it.
She seemed uncertain if Lestan would be agreeable to the thought—Akavir himself didn’t know the other Mayfair perhaps as well as he should, but rather than dwell on it as if it were a worrisome thing, he lifted his broad shoulders in. A gentle shrug. “Guess we’ll just have to ask him,” he offered, casting her a sideways glance—he could never get a read on this girl—it unnerved him in a way.
“What are your favorite places to explore or travel to?” He knew next to nothing about her—not where she originated, and only that some strange drama shrouded her with her brother. But he knew she lit up noticeably at the thought of exploration and scouting—and so, he was determined to explore the uplifted spirit of his comrade’s friend, rather than her spiraling woe.
Akavir didn't know. That unsettled her a little, but then Reverie remembered that Lestan had asked her to stay in Swiftcurrent Creek. She just couldn't. It was difficult to keep it all straight in her thoughts, to remember that he did want her and it was she who was —
Focus on Akavir; he's talking to you. Stupid, inattentive girl —
She glanced down at the water briefly to collect herself, and considered his question. Her expression was thoughtful for a moment. I don't think I have a favorite,
Reverie admitted. I love all of it, especially if I've never seen it before. But - it's about the people, too. I've met so many, since I left - since I came here. I think, more than any place, that's my favorite part.
I met a girl named Dwin from an enchanted forest - Brecheliant. And a man, Phox, who lives in the mountains! His pack is called Epoch. I got lost there,
Her nose wrinkled a little at the memory. She was trying to recall something worth telling, because she felt her answer was lacking. Akavir had wanted to hear about something from her travels, after all. I was taking a message to his daughter, Fennec, in Mereo. It's this - canyon, it's all red and it looks very dry. It reminds me of The Gilded Sea, except it was all gold there, not red, and very flat. And - oh, there was this boy - he scared the daylights out of me! He was trying to play, and I - well, I screamed and fell and it was a terrible mess.
Reverie laughed slightly to remember it. Her whole experience in the mountains had been rather unfortunate, but she still thought of it fondly.
She talked—a lot, mind you—and he listened. Aspects of the story meant little to him in that moment, for he did not know her past, or much of her to be honest. The Gilded Sea was the name of a place he had never heard of—but what did perk his interest most was Brecheliant—and he felt a sting of guilt and resentment for the pack he had left behind… and the pack which had allowed his daughter to be bartered for a political marriage.
It would seem the rambling girl, whimsical in many ways and nonsensical in equal fashion, enjoyed traveling, and given her and Lestan seemed joined at the hip, despite their different packs, Akavir made a mental note to give the younger Mayfair more leeway for travel—perhaps it was something that could bring a contentment to the girl.
He remained in her company for a few more moments. A quiet discussion—but soon he would dismiss himself, looking once more to find soft furs to line the chosen den of Jakoul, and what she desired.