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+--- Thread: Bitterroot Valley if these are life's lessons (/showthread.php?tid=66558)
if these are life's lessons - Angel Oak - November 19, 2025
backdated a few days or so
It was time. She was as healed as she could hope to be, and her endurance was nearly back to the way it had been before. Angel sought out @Sega with a pale fox fur draped over her shoulders. One she'd made for herself — the first she'd made for herself, actually."I've decided what my mother should have," she said as she drew nearer, her voice and her eyes quite steady despite the trepidation that kicked like a rabbit in her chest.
She would head out today regardless, she decided. She didn't know if her mother was even still pregnant, but if there was any chance she might make it to the birth, she had to try. And she'd done as much as she could here, filling caches and marking borders. Not a debt repaid, but a deposit paid down.
She would be returning.
RE: if these are life's lessons - Sega - November 23, 2025
the pale fox pelt catching the morning light like snow caught in motion. he took her in quietly— the steadiness of her step, the strength knit back into her frame, the resolve sitting firm behind her eyes. healed enough to walk. healed enough to choose.
he rose to meet her, broad shape steady as the trees around them.
her words drew a slow nod from him, no surprise in his face— only understanding.
hn,he murmured, deep in his chest.
good. mother should have what you carry.
his gaze traveled once more over the fox fur, the care in every stitch, then returned to her with something close to pride.
he stepped aside, leaving the path open to her.
you go,he said simply.
wind safe with you. feet strong.
a pause— then his tone softened, warm beneath the rough edges.
great sky here when you return.and quietly, too,
i will be here.
RE: if these are life's lessons - Angel Oak - November 24, 2025
For a moment, Angel was affronted. This? She gaped at him, feeling wrong-footed as he denied her the chance to ask him for her mother's gift. She decided that he must have misunderstood.
"The fox fur is for me," she told him, offering a sheepish smile. She stepped toward him, effectively shutting the doorway he'd opened for her. "To keep me warm on the way there and back. I'd like for my mother to have the pelt that I helped you with."
Her blue eyes were intent on his face.
"So that she will see that you are good, strong man," she told him. "So that she will feel confident that the wolves I'm with can take care of me. That you can. Not that I need it — but that's how mothers are."
She searched his expression for signs of what he wanted. She'd come to a number of decisions in the days since their last real talk, but she knew little of what was on Sega's mind.
RE: if these are life's lessons - Sega - November 24, 2025
sega watched her for a long, quiet breath— the way she stood there, earnest and open, offering him trust as easily as most offered doubt. it stirred something deep, something he hadn’t felt in seasons.
he stepped forward, slow enough she could stop him if she wished. when she didn’t, he let the fox fur at her shoulders slip beneath his paws, the soft brush of it warming his pads. gently— almost tenderly— he pulled it higher, tucking it close around her neck and chest. his muzzle brushed the edge of the pelt as he worked, his breath warm against her skin.
when he stepped back, it was only by an inch, his eyes still on her, softened gold.
then he turned, retrieving the other pelt— the one she had asked him to give her mother. brushed and gleaming, carrying both their work. he placed it before her as if placing a vow.
she have this,he said, steady.
she see strength in you, and in wolves who walk with you.
a beat. his gaze held hers, warm as ember beneath the frost.
i watch your steps,sega added, the words almost tender.
and i wait for your return.
RE: if these are life's lessons - Angel Oak - November 24, 2025
If she'd been at all uncertain of her feelings before now, they were cemented in this moment. A heady rush of his scent washed over her as he drew near, and her skin prickled under the warmth of his breath and his touch. There was no natural way to lean into it, but it still felt magnetic, somehow, as if she was being pull toward him wherever he was nearest to her.
Instead, her smaller body tremored. Just once, just faintly, but perhaps he was close enough to tell.
Angel breathed out a silent, shaky breath as he turned away from her, her heart beating strangely against her breast. When he turned back to her, though, she was ready, and placed her paw firmly upon the pelt, claiming it. Her blue eyes lifted to his, the intensity of her searching now closer to a challenge than an inquiry.
"I will step more carefully, this time," she told him, her voice a bit cheeky. On a whim, she pressed forward to touch her nose to the underside of his chin. Just briefly, hardly more than a tap before she pulled away. "But more swiftly, too."
Then, with one final look and another wag of her tail, she picked up the pelt and was on her way. If she lingered here any longer, she would never leave!
Thanks for the thread! She will be back soon!
RE: if these are life's lessons - Sega - November 24, 2025
sega felt the tremor— small, fleeting, but real— and something in him answered it, a quiet pull low in his chest. her nose touched beneath his chin and the breath he drew in was sharp with warmth, sharper still with the ache of letting her go.
she stepped back, tail wagging, eyes bright with promise. his own gaze held hers, steady as bedrock, even as her teasing words curled through him like smoke.
when she finally turned to leave, pelt held secure in her jaws, he watched her go— watched the pale sweep of her moving through the valley grass, watched the last flick of her tail vanish between the trees. he stayed rooted long after she disappeared, letting her scent thin on the wind, letting the place she’d stood cool.
only when the silence settled did he breathe again.
a low hum rolled through his chest, softened, almost fond. then he turned, paws carrying him toward the northern rise where the caribou paths cut through the frost. the herd moved early this season; he would track them, mark them, keep the valley fed for when she returned.