Sawtooth Spire a river turned to blood

quellcrist was gone; noted in a way that could only be duly. there was a part of wintersbane that wanted to go search for her and a part of him that wanted to stay here; that was bound by duty and the knowledge she was an adult now. this wasn't the first time their paths had veered off. split. she was a woman capable of making her own choices and sagtannet needed him ...and he had vowed to the young astraeus — not that he was sure if the boy could hear or understand him — that he would take care of him. the morning is overcast; the stones slick with the recent spring shower that had passed them over the night. wintersbane watches his steps as he patrols; mindful of the treacherous fall that leers up at him like the grin of a titan.

As the time to whelp drew nearer, Nyx felt her anxiety heighten. She did her best to hide away from packmates, choosing instead to roam the reaches most familiar to her - those that she knew to be quieter. The last thing she wanted was to attract attention from others, considering a fast approach to motherhood that had ended in disaster once before.

There was great difficulty in believing that she was safe in Sagtannet. She and Wylla had not properly acquainted themselves since the latter's arrival in Diaspora, and to have successfully avoided her sharp tongue for all those months had been the only real shred of luck that she had. Nyx knew better than to find comfort in it, however, as life had proven more than capable of shitting on her good fortune. Mahler had vowed to defend her and their babes no matter what, though the thought of another robbing her of them was rooted deep.

Yellow eyes lifted from the ground at the sound of another, and the tawny Ostrega pricked her lobes forward in surprise. She recognised the powerful frame of the one leader she'd not yet properly met, having seen him from a distance and at the presentation of Wylla's offspring. With this opportunity to have a better look at him, she was swift to decide that Wintersbane was a handsome creature. He held a stature that rivaled that of Mahler, and Nyx took an extra moment to admire his heavy steps and proud crown as he meandered along in her direction.

a figure approaches — a woman; draped in stunning golds and creams. a heavily pregnant woman. he knows her as nyx, as one that arrived with diaspora but has never had the chance or found the opportunity to properly introduce himself to her. he doesn't mean to avoid the members beneath him; has no excuse to for he has not ( to his knowledge anyway ) fathered any cubs and was not preoccupied. not as much as he'd like to be, anyway. the jealousy is still there, still seething beneath the surface of his carefully composed facade made easier to pull off each time by the scars that mar and paralyze those particular muscles of his face.

glacial gaze casts over the wilds that yawn beneath the tower of their spire; admiring like an olympian ( hades, if he was to be associated with any sort of god ) peering over his domain. it is not long before his gaze finds its way back to nyx and he greets her with a low, rumbling chuff; unable to help but wonder what brings her out to the borders in her condition. not that, presently, it appeared like they were in any sort of danger of having unwelcome guests.

Wintersbane turned his head to regard her quietly, and Nyx twitched a whisker as she quietly observed. She lowered her gaze out of respect for his title, unsure how he might react to her intrusive stare, though she dared to peek up into his handsome features once more as he greeted her with a low rumble.

At her beige hocks, the tip of her peppered tail curled. Wintersbane made no further move to approach or engage in conversation, so Nyx was content to dip her muzzle politely in response and carry on with her wanderings.