Swiftcurrent Creek wild women don't get the blues
always an angel, never a god
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#1
Private 
for @Marcus but not opposed to a surprise interception! set at the outskirts/border of scc territory

The days roll on and before long, dates become meaningless as the cicadasong blends afternoon and evening. Mid-July boiling; the only relief coming from dips in the rushing waters and a lonely den at midnight.
Tasks; menial, grey. So many thoughts swirl around in the gamma's mind, and above all, they circle back to Silvertongue more often than not. The attachment grows, the sweetness ever more succulent. A constant plague of longing, of worry. Akavir, too; concern, for him and the daughter he has yet to find, and a desire for closeness that she might never have with him.
Today, she marks the edges of the territory as a distraction. In pursuit of guardianship, her back arches as she brushes her scent along tree bark. Tallgrass is rolled in, blades spat from her mouth with a puff of air. The mid-afternoon sun hangs over her head like a curse as she sits with her back pressed against a trunk. And here, as she gazes out in the direction of the meadow, she wonders who else is out there. What their presumably comparably simple lives must look like.
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#2
going to assume at least one of his two children came back with him/he found them and is building a relationship with them until I find someone to play them!

He left because he had too. The unknown scared him when it came to his children. They were under the guardianship of an unstable woman, and though she was their mother he did not trust her judgement. She allowed a man she barely knew to take his place and his pride aside, he worried for their saftey. It was by sheer luck that he found them, well and not completely against allowing their biological father back into their lives - without their mother's knowledge.

But his life that he had made for himself in Teekon Wilds sat heavy in his mind, and so he returned. His children were near, but today Marcus took a few hours for a selfish errand. 

It was not hard to find her. The directions she gave him were clear and her scent soon became strong. There she was, under a tree just as he had first found her. "Wren." The man called carefully from a distance. He began to carefully close what space was left between him and the tall woman.
always an angel, never a god
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She knew that voice. She knew that face, too; the strong jaw, the golden gaze; the broad shoulders and cinnamon-splattered body.
Shock, at first, and then something like anger, and something else like discomfort. It'd been months since she'd last seen him — he'd left her for so long! And here he is, crawling back to her, new scents radiating from him and still wearing that same charming smirk.
A coldness curdles within her stomach. Why now, when she was building a life? Why now, when she was busy? Why now, when she'd found—
Marcus, she blurts, a flatness to it, shifting to her feet as the fur of her nape bristles. what are you doing here?
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He noted her reaction and was not surprised by it. But he surprised himself at the annoyance he felt. She bristled so quickly at his return, without knowing why he had left. As if he would abandon his children for the rest of their lives and completely start anew? He could never. 

No matter how he felt, Marcus decided it was best to hold composure on his end. He did, however, stop his advances. Her eyes, once large and round with admiration for him, now narrowed under a furrowed brow of skepticism. He shifted from his usual laid back demeanor, instead presenting one of a professional caliber. Like he was approaching any other wolf on their territory. He was an outsider, and he understood this. "I came to see you." He offered simply, tired from his journey both physically and emotionally. If she did not wish him to be there, he would not fight her on it. "Is this a bad time?"
always an angel, never a god
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#5

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Is this a bad time?
Wren did not know if there ever would have been a good one.
Twisting, turning; so many emotions the creekwoman had next to no idea how to grapple with. Where did he go? Why had he been gone for so long? Why now was he here? Why was he treating her as if she were a stranger? Why, why, why—
Bristling, dumbfounded, eyes glazed with the storm of relief and anger and fear and everything that had come over her. Salty and tangy was the taste of her mouth as, after a disconcertingly long silence, she opens it to speak.
Marcus, you can't just-- abandon me for several weeks and then show up at my door, narrowed eyes, bloodshot. Gentleness had long gone out the window, and in its place came the red-hot searing rush of unbridled anger. I-I have a life here. I'm not just, some bitch you can fuck and make empty promises to and then abandon. Are you outta your fuckin' mind?
Not again. Not again would this happen to her, not another man. Not again.
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#6
The words cut deeper than he had expected. Never once had he considered Wren something to just throw away. His annoyance quickly melted into a puddle of shame that became sticky and heavy around his paws. He shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry. I had no intention of abandoning you. I'm- I'm sorry I left without telling you anything." Turning his face from her was the only thing he could think to do, his rosy cheek fur burning red hot with frustration. Why was he SO bad with women? Was he really that inconsiderate? Probably.

"I had to go get my children. You were never just a bitch to me. I was always going to come back. I know you have a life here and I don't want to tread on that... I just wanted to see you."

Just looking at her nearly pummeled him into the ground below. He was in a chokehold.
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The apology does not fall on deaf ears.
The anger morphs into something else entirely, cooled by a wash of her own guilt for her first instinct having been to berate him. He is stunned, understandably so.
Things are complicated for both of them, it seems.
There are so many things she could say and the first one that comes out is a garbled I'm sorry too.
Look, Marcus, her own eyes are now lowered, fixated on the ground in a desperate attempt to focus on much of anything. i-it's, it's good to see you. I'm glad you're okay. But you should... focus on your kids. and then, I don't think I'm capable of being the woman you want.
A long, long silence, and suddenly Wren finds herself struggling for air. Heavy, all of it, all of this.
I met a girl.
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He was not a man lucky in love. He felt happy for her though, that much was true. An air of relief sighed from Marcus, Wren was no longer on the war path and his hide was safe for now. However, in the same breath, he felt his chest tighten at the idea of missing out on something that could have been... nice. 

"You are very capable of being the woman I want. It was me that was never going to live up to what you deserve." A sad chuckle before settling onto tired haunches, his aging body no longer handled cross country travel like it used to. It would take a day's rest of doing absolutely nothing to rid his joints of creaky throbbing pain. 

"What's her name?" The question was coupled with a soft smile as Marcus began to stuff himself into the shape of a platonic friend.
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#9
But she was not.
I'm really not, Marcus, a retort, a broken laugh; one choked with the bile that began to rise in the back of her throat. no offense, but you don't even fuckin' know me. You don't know the real person that I am. I'm-- I'm dead weight! I'm mean and bitchy and.. mannish and I don't even got the looks to make up for it. I've got a laundry list of-- issues. I'm not someone you wanna make your problem.
Her expression grows cold, sullen; sunken eyes and flattened ears, a terrible frown that creases the corners of her mouth. That horrible feeling in her chest, everything, everything —
He asks of her name, as if everything is normal. As if this had left him unphased. And in her mind's eye is that beautiful downy face, that curved smile and long eyelashes. Silvertongue.
Her name's Bella, belladonna. and she's... smart, and beautiful, and cool. she knows me, and she has not run away. I don't think I deserve her. But, but I'm tryin' for her anyways.
The silence is fierce. An implication that perhaps he should leave. And if he did, Wren would not chase him.
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#10
I think this will be it for Marcus ;;

He decided it was best to not challenge the girl's perception of herself, at least not in the heat of the moment. Too many cogs were turning, too many emotions being spent. As soon as she began to soften at the thought of her mistress, Marcus dare not take the conversation anywhere else. He wished to keep her in a good mood.

"She sounds great." It wasn't difficult for him to remove himself, especially seeing the obvious adoration in Wren's eyes for this Bella. However, he did not wish to stick around to test his patience on the matter. After all, he had been intimate with her, if only for one night. Primal instincts to fight for Wren could only be bridled for so long. The grim silence gave him all the segue he needed.

"I'm glad I got to see you again. And again, I'm sorry for leaving like I did." His words trailed off to a mumble, once bright and sunny eyes looking rather dull and defeated... but still he smiled for her. "Take care, Wren." A last look at the woman, and he was gone with a tucked tail and flattened ears. Defeated again in love.
always an angel, never a god
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#11
;; <333 i loved their arc so much!! i'll absolutely be keeping up with him!!

He apologizes. Wren is not sure if she forgives him. But—
I don't regret it, she sneaks in; one last thing before he goes. be safe out there, Marcus.
She watches him leave until she cannot anymore, and silently, she herself disappears into the brush. Alone, she would be tonight, and perhaps it was always meant to end that way.