Swiftcurrent Creek ishq risq

the pups—or, at least, brook—were out and about more and more, which should lighten @Dawn's load considerably over the coming weeks. he worried about her. they said that pregnancy and motherhood changed a woman indelibly, and she had been withdrawn; aditya had seen very little of her beyond poking his head in the den.

he didn't want to see her change. he loved her: for having their children, yes, but he loved her for her, and he hated to see something he'd done to her have such an effect.

so, whilst stone and brook were engaged in some sort of game, he settled nearby, giving her a small whuff of greeting. kaisi ho, mera jaan? he asked softly, blinking softly into the darkness of the den where she presumably lay. mera jaan. he hadn't called her that in some time. it felt right, today.

the pain would not slip away, the terrible pains of childbirth a tangible memory and the constant ache of her body numbing. she cared for her children, loved them, but not in that sharp, almost painful way that was custom for her. no, this was a softer love, and should she be stolen away from her she would not feel the flames of grief but the heavy weight of sin. and yet.

here and again, snatches of that same dream - dawn-touched fields before her, the taunt anticipation, the smell of sweat and earth and fear. the knowledge that she was inches from sweet victory. and other dreams, too, of deep wealds and sun-brushed canopies, simmering twilights and petrichor. flashes, snatches of memories turned dreams, but they brought her strength. 

she rose at the sound, which in itself was unusual for large part of her wished to remain lodged in her den. the movement felt stiff, as is she navigated a body not entirely hers, her lackluster pelt and sharp ribs seemed as if they belonged to another, too, but she did not notice them. she eased back down onto her stomach when she stood half in, half out of the entranceway, and fixed waning gaze on him. "I am fine." came the answer after a moment, and her gaze twisted back to where her children played.

interestingly enough, she must have read the question in his voice and responded accordingly. yet even though the words were there, the emotion seemed lacking. it was a poor lie, he thought. adi frowned, eyes clearly troubled, but said nothing for a time, crossing his paws in front of him. looking terribly indecisive.

maaf karo, he said after a moment, apology etched deep into the lines of his face. main tumhein kabhi nahin dukhana chahta tha. but he had, in myriad ways. everything from their coupling, to his periods of absence, to the havoc he'd wreaked upon wheeling gull isle. he had hurt her, and there was no going back to what once was.

his gaze fixed on hers, whether it was aimed toward him or turned away; he needed her to understand. he needed her. main tumse pyaar karti hoon, dawn, aditya murmured. hamesha. jab tak hai jaan.

it was a truth he could no longer deny. whether she understood, whether she realized what he was saying. . .he had to say it. it could not, would not, be contained.

she didn't understand why he spoke entirely in his own language. words sparked recognition, every so often - sorry, love, you, - but she did not listen closely enough to decipher meaning from his words besides that. it took considerably more energy than it had initially, and so she did not shift her gaze from the children. she pondered dully over the fragments she understood, closing her eyes a moment as she did. 

"I'm tired, Adi." she said finally, though rose a moment later to herd Brook and Stone closer to the den's entrance, carefully guiding the pair with soft prods of her muzzle and low notes hummed under her breath.

i'm tired, adi.

that was it. that was all he received. i'm tired, adi. she moved the pups closer to the den's entrance, leaving him laying there, staring at the three of them. two wolves he could somewhat claim, and one he could not.

i'm tired, adi. would anyone ever reciprocate his words of love again?

main bhi, aditya murmured, just as wearily, and rose to his paws. with one final, yearning glance at dawn, he turned and padded off, tail all but between his legs.