Sleepy Fox Hollow Lilac and gooseberries.

Much to her disappointment, the Fox Hollow had failed them.

When last she roamed there with Blodreina, it'd been brimming with promise. Nyx pressed on through the territory that afternoon, frame narrowed by hunger and looking for prey that she doubted would be found. Even her trips beyond Diaspora's claim had been fruitless, yet some small hope kept her searching.

Stigmata's dream of Diaspora taking reign over the range was swiftly coming to an end, as the mountains themselves seemed eager to evict those who remained. Nyx, having did her best to remain in the background in the weeks since their dispersal, abandoned her hunt for food with a defeated sigh and began another for any new information that @Mahler may have.

he had nothing; she would find him staring off unseeing toward where diaspora had been, where the graves of kazimir and blodreina and his own brother lay crushed beneath felled rock, hateful despair rising to choke him. her appearance shook the general from his reverie; he settled his focus upon nyx instead.
"how are you?" the gargoyle asked, pensively; he hoped she would not ask after him, for he had aught to tell. "i sent our newest scout out, upon a mission beyond the far mountains. if she returns, ve might have a new home."

She found him, taking note of the faraway look on his dark face as he gazed off into nothing. Nyx thought she saw something then that stirred something within her, some small inkling of familiarity. Pausing to stand at his flank, she twitched a whisker in curiosity as she pondered this.

It was when Mahler turned his proud crown to look upon her with an empty stare that the agouti Ostrega felt her heart skip a beat that was almost fearful. Wylla was the memory that sprung to the forefront of her mind as she studied the General's face, a male version of Wylla.

But this was not the first time Nyx had compared Mahler to the coastal wolfess who'd once been her Alpha, and the pieces of a puzzle that was dropped before her so suddenly were swift to fall into place. How was it that she had not recognised him before? How was it that he had not remembered her, and the dark secret that continued to haunt her?

"I'm fine," she answered after a short delay, but before she could even think to ask after him he went on to share with her how he'd requested their latest recruitt to venture into unfamiliar territory to source a new place for Diaspora. Had Nyx not been distracted she might have felt some judgement from him toward her with such a comment, a suggestion of her poor efforts as a scout had brought them to this useless land. "Oh," she said, "I wish her luck, then"

"are you?" mahler murmured in a controlled blurt, neither seeking to control his words nor wishing them to truly fall. were any of the diasporans 'fine?' could they be such with the land churning beneath them and their children beginning to starve? he did not know if that sort of thing was indeed possible at this time.
"i vish that i had not left the sea,"  mahler murmured after a moment. how he had not recognized nyx before, he did not know; the last he had seen the woman, she had been swelled with children. the shadowpriest himself had existed outside the realm of grimnismal; he knew not her shameful secret, nor what had become of those the bear had scattered.

Diaspora suited him better than Grimnismal ever could, she felt. Nyx felt the weight of her guilt as it settled on her peppered shoulders, recalling how she'd been too preoccupied in seeking the attention of their Beta to even care to learn his name. Their encounters had been brief ones, though the length of time it took to rouse this recognition spoke volumes of her arrogance.

"Do you remember me, Mahler?" she asked of him when he spoke of the coast, an almost fearful wonder swimming in the bright hue of her irises. Do you remember what I did?

"yes," mahler murmured, settling the hard gems of his eyes upon her. fear there in her eyes; he wondered at it. "it seems so long ago," the gargoyle grunted, lips curving in a brief smile that did not linger. "but it vas no longer my home vhen vylla left."
let that part of him finally be dead and buried.

He fixed her with a firm stare, one that was enough to have her thrust her ears backward. Nyx wanted to shrink beneath the scrutiny of his lilac gaze, wished for the ground to consume her, but knew no such luck would ever come for her.

Instead, she swallowed her heart that rose to nestle in her throat, and turned her face away. "It was," she responded, unable to mask the sorrow in her tone. She'd changed and aged considerably since her carefree days among those in Grimnismal, and felt a surge of guilt at the sentiment to his comment that followed.

It had been Nyx' confession of an illegitimate pregnancy to Wylla's brother that pushed the young Alphess to depart their coast. Of this she was sure, for their paths had never crossed again.

"I..." was it safe to discuss her slaughtered babes with him? Could she lie, tell him that the coywolf was responsible for their fate? Nyx closed her mouth then, taking a moment to contemplate, as she sought Mahler's rugged features once more. "My litter perished there," she said gently, sadly, choosing to leave things vague. After all, she didn't know what kind of relationship he might maintain with the coywolf and her followers.

mahler's countenance softened; he regarded nyx with a mingling of knowing sorrow and surprise. "i did not know," he murmured softly. how she must have suffered! and though he could not bring himself to tell her the answering tale of his own brood, the gargoyle despite his feeling of awkwardness, reached toward the young woman all the same.
touch — necessary for healing, and mahler was struck by how long it had been since he had felt it from another in a manner unsultry or placating.
the talk of wylla had sprung up to flank his heart with pain again; he did not pull away from it, nor from nyx, desperate to allow the resounding silence its chance at a barrier against such things.

He did not know. 

Good, she mused. He did not have to.

And so Mahler reached for her, moving to touch her likely out of pity, but she drank deep this tender display as though she'd never experienced such a gesture. Nyx would let him be close to her, be kind to her, for in her yearning for connection with another she could not allow such an opportunity to slip away.

"Nature can be cruel," she said softly, solemnly, "to give such blessings then rob us of them before we have the chance to appreciate them." Her words felt heavy, though were not untrue; she could've enjoyed her children, had the timing been right.

​Yellow eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her smooth forehead to the General's strong neck, savouring a rare moment where she could allow herself to be vulnerable.

a large sigh raced through mahler, expelled itself into nyx' silken ruff as he lay his muzzle there and felt the pain of her truthful words.
for him it would always be the regret around his children, though mahler did not suspect they could have lived even with his intervention.
it was then the agony of being a coward with which he must exist. lips tensed; he shut his eyes tightly and leant into the warm frame of the woman nyx.

Oh, how she longed to let go of the past. It haunted her often, poisoned her mind so that she believed herself undeserving of happiness. A lump swelled in her throat then, as Mahler exhaled into the dense fur of her ruff, and she found herself wondering what grief he too might've experienced in the time between Grimnismal and now.

Swallowing, Nyx sank into the General's warmth and let him be close to her. Hold me, she willed silently, fiercely, almost fearful of the cold that would envelop her should he move away; help me feel alive again.

A tentative kiss then, a flick of her tongue to the base of a charcoal lobe in a desperate gesture that she hoped he would not reject.

some part of mahler was prepared for the occurrence, his inherent arrogance assuring himself he was wanted by most she-wolves. this confirmed several times over, though he was nothing if not a man of breeding, seeing only scorn for those who bragged of such things.
but it was the gentler part of mahler that answered nyx now. blinking in the consternation that followed, for despite his initial pride he had truthfully not expected her reaction, the gargoyle considered the repercussions of such a choice.
still utterly swayed, mahler drew back to seek control of the situation, but also assure himself nyx wished this for true.

He withdrew from her, but she did not allow the air between them enough time to chill. Nyx emitted a soft whine, a desperate sound of yearning as she swept sideways toward him with ears thrust back. Her tail, lowered submissively, twitched with anxious anticipation of the embrace that she so suddenly sought to find herself within.

Her flank brushed Mahler's own and her muzzle trailed through the course slate and obsidian of his ruff, breath hot on his cheek as she manoeuvred to taste the fur at his throat with a suggestive preen of careful teeth.

why could he not be spontaneous, candid, reckless? selfish, even — nyx offered the very thrumming fibres of her lithe frame, and he answered her with the masculinity of his own. mind ever plagued by 'what if,' by the aftermath of such an action, of what the she-wolf truly wanted. 
ach.
mahler shoved everything aside in a frustrated waterfall of collapsing mental tomes; he swept her closer, a growl guttering into his broad scarred chest before he rose and chivvied her into the sidelong brush, pressing his muzzle into the plush of her shoulderblades as they sequestered themselves from diasporan eyes.

He responded as she hoped, and leaned into her willingly. If there was any reluctance in his movement, in his touch, Nyx did not pay enough attention to take notice. From within her breast came a low rumble, an inviting sound to accompany the smoothing of her tongue at his throat as she delivered tender kisses in the fleeting moments between evocative nibbling.

Mahler was not Lycaon, her mind screamed as he gathered and moved to encourage her away to someplace more private. While Nyx had never given herself the chance to even learn to love the father of her very unexpected, unwanted litter, she had cared for him. Guilt maintained the solemn thoughts she held for him and, as the General thrust his muzzle between the dense fur at her peppered shoulders, it took some effort to keep from pretending he was Grimnismal's pale-furred Beta.

This wasn't about love. It was about feeling something other than the daily thrum of her grief. It was about release.

"Mahler," came the tawny Ostrega's soft murmur as she tilted her head back, hawkish eyes blinking closed with the suggestive sweep of her feathered tail against her companion's thigh.

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the whisper of his name surprised mahler — he was suddenly unsure of himself. aurëwen lulled him until he was all but insensate, drunken. but nyx kept every sense and synapse on alert.
he was overwhelmed, seeking a tether; it was she, and he felt new, fumbling. but he was not. a removed mahler watched himself draw nyx back beneath his belly, into the circle of his forearms, seeking the vital warmth of her nape.
he returned to himself in that moment, steadying her beneath his larger frame. another moment, perhaps, and the situation might have wakened some logic, but he took it to join them in the first step of an ageless dance that had not lost its newness for mahler.

It had been long over a year since Nyx last played her part in this embrace. As Mahler shifted to align and join their bodies, she sucked in a sharp breath as memory, not pleasure, flooded to the forefront of her mind.

The roughness of teeth of her nape; scraping of claws at her underbelly; awkwardness of an inexperienced duo exploring the opposite sex for the first time, not knowing that such an encounter would bring them to ruin.

Lycaon, but not Lycaon.

The tremor of guilt and regret passed quickly, cast aside in favour Mahler and this moment - one that she so desperately wished to hold onto, yet some part of her knew that his touch would grant her only temporary resolve. It was the best she could hope for, she supposed, so may as well make the most of it while it lasted.

She could hear the thrum of a rapid heartbeat pulse in her splayed lobes, feel its source make attempt to escape ribs that caged it. Rhythm took over and at last Nyx allowed her muscles to slacken somewhat, her shuddering exhale enough to communicate a willingness to continue.

she relaxed to relinquish control, and mahler swept them both into the movements that would pin the pair in impending release. it was different, he supposed, annoyed that his brain could not merely enjoy as his body did, eagerly responding to the warmth and yield of nyx' frame.
careful not to allow himself fancies upon which his control might flee, mahler nosed into her guard hairs, letting out a rough breath as the sensation at last began to mute the spill of thoughts.

His sigh, hot at the back of her neck, sent a shiver coursing the length of her dorsal and set her skin aflame. Nyx shuddered beneath his weight, soft breaths huffed through gritted fangs with each stroke, as focus on her grim past finally began to lose its grasp.

Here. Now. That was where her attention shifted. Right where she needed to be.

Cat-like, the tawny Ostrega arched her spine to settle firmly in place against the General's undersides - an eagerness to fit herself as close to him as their embrace would allow in the search for a familiar relief she so longed to find.

together they fought off the pall of guilty distractions; mahler held her more firmly, his egress harsher, motivated to drive the breath from both their bodies. and still andraste's face lingered, the coy, loving smile upon her lips. firmly he closed his eyes, chanted nyx' name inside his head, until her flesh became his became hers became heat and melt and 
the gargoyle nudged his crown against her hackles, experiencing the viscerality of this union, so unclouded by fey glow and sweeted words. he and she, not wolves of diapora after all, but the last clasping remnants of grimnismal.
of lycaon.
of wylla.

Fade soon?

Warmth.

It bloomed in the pit of her abdomen, and she shuddered with a reluctance to embrace it. No, the tawny wolfess willed it away with gritted teeth and splayed lobes, not yet, not yet, not yet!

But her silent pleas went ignored and when the release came, it was as glorious as she remembered. Nyx let go, satisfied, and cried out as satisfaction swept the tension from her taut nerves.

A moment of life breathed back into her, wonderful and tragic all the same.

ofc! <3

in a panted quiet they moved; his body began to tighten, and the last of his stoic veneer broke with a hot nip to the back of nyx’ neck.
her cry was unexpected; it spurred the general into a spate of rough thrusts that drove him finally into the last of it, and he muffled the moan that gathered in his throat against the arch of her throat.
breath shuddering, mahler rocked back upon his hindlegs, pulling the bulk of his weight from nyx’ spine as he waited for them to be parted.