Wolf RPG

Reverie was certain that she must be dying. For hours now, so many she had lost track, she had been plagued by cramps. It felt as if her body had begun a rebellion, displeased with its own leadership and determined to overthrow her. At first she had only grimaced and shifted every so often, silent in her discomfort. By the third hour she had started to pant and pace and whine. Eventually she figured she was driving @Lestan crazy, and excused herself.
As soon as she was alone she began to cry. Reverie stopped to lean heavily against a tree, to rest just for a moment. It was difficult to hold on to any thought over the constant alarm bells sounding in her mind: it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. How could she be anything but dying when it hurt so very much?
Pregnancy was horrific.

He remained a shadow outside the den of @Jakoul. Lingering, but never announcing himself. Not yet. It wasn’t that he did not wish to see them, but only that he remained uncertain where he stood in the dark mother’s eyes—their union one that held no clarity for what it had meant nor it’s purpose, spare for the three babes that nestled against their mother’s soft belly.

And so he would not impose.

When he moved away from the distinct smell of milk and baby, it was with a sense of silence falling over him—a pause given, when the air filled with pained panting. His eyes narrowed—his pace quickened—and he found her, then—withered, laying against a tree and tears wetting the creamy silk of her cheeks.

“Reverie?” His voice tested the silence—announcing his presence, as a concerned glance was given over her.

Akavir! Reverie startled to her feet, hackles flaring in surprise before settling just as quickly. Unlike Arric, she had no illusions of testing Akavir. If he wanted to come near to her, he would, and it didn't matter how she felt about it. But she desperately did not want him to. A pained whine slipped from her and she pressed back, against the tree.
I'm sorry, I - She realized she did not know if Arric had told Akavir of her pregnancy. It would be obvious if he only looked to the swell of her sides, but Reverie did not want her alpha to have to infer such things. Did - did Arric tell you yet? That I'm pregnant?

He had surprised her—the startle and jump caused him to wince inwardly, though his eyes were sharp upon her—concerned, but something that could easily be misconstrued as stern. The whine she drew from her throat stirred an ear to flick, alarmed, but he did not move to grasp her and check her over.

In truth, he just didn’t know her very well—and any conversation he had with her had been fleeting and confusing.

“What—“ But she apologized before he could ask her what was wrong—and when she announced her pregnancy, only then did the swell of her sides become obvious  to the man. He paused—studying her. “No, he didn’t,” he offered, now finally drawing a step closer. “But it’s not him I would expect to hear it from, but the expectant parents to be—“ He stopped then, realizing the potential of having misplaced his words. They were Lestan’s weren’t they?

He exhaled, a prominent shadow as he considered before him. “Would laying down help? Can I get you anything?”

The parents. Yes. Her, and Lestan. Reverie felt dizzy at the thought. Akavir was kind, at least; he seemed to want to help. I don't know, She said softly, still out of breath. But thank you. I - we didn't mean for this to happen. I haven't even gone into heat! It felt strange referencing something she didn't know the first thing about, aside the fact that it existed. Had Reverie known that heat was the scent which had drawn her and Lestan together that day by the lake, she might have felt differently about many things.
Have you seen your children yet? She asked, partially to distract herself, but there was genuine warmth and curiosity in her tone. They're beautiful. Reverie loved them in her own way, she thought. How could she not, after witnessing their entrance into the world?

She perplexed him—she apologized—a claim then that she hadn’t even gone into heat and Akavir quickly dispelled the light frown those words had initially clouded his features with. He would wonder at her age—her inexperience, perhaps, having her not realize what it had felt like.

Or, perhaps, her rather whimsical and dream-like nature had kept her from knowing.

Reverie wished to change the subject—the mention of his own children drawing his discomfort closet to the forefront, though instead he offered her a small smile—one that wouldn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not yet,” he offered, eyes intrinsically studying her. “Jakoul has been protective of them. But I wanted to thank you for being there for her.”

Because the shadowed waif had indeed needed someone—even if it had not been him she had reached to.

“Reverie, we have an agreement with Riverclan and Kvarsheim… We can get you looked at by a healer or someone who might know more.” He paused—waiting her words—drawing her back to the focus of herself.

Pregnancy and pain seemed, after all, something that should not be taken lightly.

Reverie returned his smile in spite of her distress; a smile meant to be gentle and comforting, because she could see that Akavir didn't really mean his own. Oh, you don't have to thank me - I wanted to help, She always wanted to help; it was only that most of the time she just couldn't. Most of the time she was incapable of helping even herself.
His mention of seeing a healer visibly heightened her stress, however. Reverie took in a slow breath. I've been thinking about it, She admitted. But I... well... Akavir, there's something I should tell you. Something she absolutely did not want to tell him. But he had a right to know, as much as Arric did.
I don't like telling people, Her voice turned a little hushed, a little nervous. But it's important that you know. There's - something wrong with me. There are a lot of words for it but I think most people just think I'm - crazy. Ever since my sister died. And I've had a lot of bad experiences with healers trying to fix me since then, so... I don't really trust them.
Which is why I haven't seen one yet, Reverie sighed softly. But I'm trying to get past it. I just thought you should know because - well, I know I act strangely sometimes. Like now, not wanting to see a healer when I know I should.

Oh—she was something, surely.

Her confession was both equally endearing and entirely frustrating all together. “We can have someone present—make sure they stay on the topic at hand,” he offered, deciding entirely to skip over the fact she just called herself—inadvertently?—crazy.

Or, that others believed she was.

He wouldn’t have necessarily used the word to describe her… Flighty, whimsical, immature… A dreamer.

He also didn’t know anything about her, truly. She was in Kvarsheim and seemed to be quite smitten with Lestan—enough to jump ship here. She garnered Arric’s attention and friendship—and seemed to hold enough compassion to her pack mates to look out for them in the ways she could.

None of it was a topic he was going to touch with a ten foot pole.

“Do you have a den your comfortable in? If you want help finding one and digging it out… If you’re in pain already you should be taking it easy.”

Reverie wasn't sure how to feel about Akavir's response to her. He was considerate enough, but only in the way of someone with good intentions; it didn't feel like he really cared. She got the sense that he was a good person at heart, and that counted for something, but Reverie suddenly did not want to be near him. She didn't know what to do with this utter lack of warmth. It was difficult not to question her place here at all when she felt no connection to the man who led them, despite her best efforts.
As quickly as she'd opened up to him, she closed herself off. Thank you, but I - I'm sure Lestan will help me with that, Reverie forced herself to stand on her own, shakily, stepping away from the tree. I should go back to him, he's probably worried... If Akavir didn't have anything else to say to her, she was ready to abandon their interaction and remind herself, in Lestan's company, what it was like to be looked at with warmth.

He was about to say more—mention, maybe that Jakoul would enjoy a close neighbor—when suddenly, like a light switch, she shut down. Shaky—insistent now that she return to Lestan.

And there it was—that flighty dismissal she seemed to do so well.

He gave a small nod and grunt—pale eyes watching her as she left. He would have offered to help her, but he had a feeling that whatever he had said had triggered the girl from offering him intensely personal information to suddenly whisking away from his presence.

She remained an enigma to him for yet another day.