Blacktail Deer Plateau and i’ll be right outside your front door on my 12 speed

nts: 5w 5d

Cupid had been keeping up with a very consistent schedule since he had returned from the river. Wake up, throw up, cry about how much life sucked. One shitty day after the next. He would've allowed himself to rot in his den if it were not for the poppy seeds he had stashed away.

At first he ate them sparingly. Two a day, three if he was more fucked up than usual. But as time went by he took more. Four, six, eight. There was a little voice that always scolded him for taking too much. Just like your stupid fucking mother, it'd hiss, You saw what that shit did to her and now look at you! Making the same mistake she did. He never understood why his mom stuffed herself with toxic shit until now. The high was amazing. It allowed him to escape his troubles just for a few hours and silence that little voice.

Cupid had just finished off the last of his stash. He'd have to drag himself back to the river later. For now he leaned back against a tree and giggled to himself.

Faces came and went within Rusalka as of late. A bunch of females just vanished, while others had joined swiftly after. Rosencrantz paid them no mind. He simply sat at the borders, chasing away any figures that wandered too near, and hunted for himself when the need arose. With prey returning, he had filled out once more and no longer the skeletal figure of who he once was. 

Though Rose didn't involve himself in much; but one figure, in particular, caught his attention. A pregnant female who clearly wasn't in love with the idea of bringing new life. He made himself sick off of herbs. Putting the foetus at risk on top of his own life. With a less than impressed expression on how the dark figure looked now, Rosencrantz approached and began to speak for the first time in what felt like an eternity. 

You're destroying the child too by doing this. The frown was deep on his face. He wasn't an emotional man, perhaps it was his age showing - but even he saw the beauty of bringing new life into the world. It was a blessing to be a part of such a thing.

Cupid took his eyes off the sky to watch the man approach. He mistook him for Aningan at first; they were both giant and pale. The only way he was able to differentiate the two was their faces; Aningan's was perfect and his wasn't. Cupid always enjoyed looking at men with scars.

He smiled a little, but it was briefly replaced with a frown when the man spoke. Future me will figure it out. He smiled again. Present me is gonna kick back, relax, and enjoy the moment. As he said this, he slid down against the tree and let his body melt into the floor.

His honey gaze hardened at the response he was offered. 'Future him' would worry about what past him did, deal with the repercussions. It was a classic selfish attitude, thinking things would either turn out okay in the end, or that they could ignore it until it went away. Explain that to the child. They disgusted him. Born with an addiction. 

Females had it hard during these times, there were cruel men out there who would do anything to spread their seed - but Rose still believed them to be blessed. To create. It was something men could never do, no matter how hard they may argue that they had a hand in this creation - their involvement was little in comparison. 

He wasn't even lucky enough to find a woman who would gift him such a blessing. Maybe he was just wasn't worthy.

What was Aningan thinking to let this one in? Pitty? Would Rose, should he had won the challenge and become Alpha... Would Rose have turned away a pregnant female? No. But certainly, he wouldn't turn a blind eye to the blatant disregard. And he wasn't. A lowly Delta, but he would at least voice his disdain. Do you hate it?

Why did every cute guy he meet have to be so horrible? Again, he frowned, a little more this time. Cupid couldn't brush that comment off as easily as the first one. It poked holes the wall he had built, but it wasn't enough to break it. His head dropped down, shook his head, and laughed to himself.

Hate what? He immediately regretted asking the question, so he laughed in an attempt to cut off any answer. So, what, did you just come here to lecture me? You're such a stick in the mud.

That extra heartbeat you're harboring. His reply was quick, sharp, he would not relent or back down. There was no pity or empathy. I've come to judge Aningan's decision. If you're fit to raise anything. So far, it both failed. Both Aningan's decision to bring this one in, and his ability to raise a child on his own once it filled its lungs with air. 

Or do you plan on killing it instead? His tone grew darker. Grieving almost at the thought. If this one didn't care for it while it needed its mother's uterus to grow, was it even meant to survive its birth day? 

Why did he feel the need to even interject, it wasn't even his. Why did it matter so much? Age was certainly doing odd things to his psyche, his father would be incredibly disappointed should he know. But still, he felt that need to protect something that could not do it itself. Innocent, vulnerable, someone had to care. Its time was quickly approaching, after all, judging by the size of her belly.

He didn't want to hear that. He should've turned away right when he saw the man coming. Cupid ate those seeds to forget his troubles or grow some immunity to them. It wasn't turning out the way he planned. His troubles came in the form of this guy and he couldn't ignore his words. His wall was beginning to crack.

Well let me save you some time and tell you I'm not. But that was obvious wasn't it? So why was he still here? And why did he have to keep talking? 

When he mentioned killing the baby, his features dropped. Y'know, that don't sound like a bad idea. He tried to laugh it off like it was nothing, but it just sounded like strained sighs. It's a win-win situation. I don't have to be a miserable sack of shit and this baby won't have to be raised by a stupid fuck up. Everyone's happy!

I have already come to that conclusion. The gruff tone of his voice trembled as he spoke, as hard as gravel and twice as rough to the ears as stone was to the feet. Selfish, self-centered, that's all he saw in this one's attitude. They would never fight for Rusalka, turn tail the moment they no longer needed the safety of a pack. Aningan made a mistake with his one.

With a grunt and furrowed brows, he stared daggers toward the pregnant individual. Hatred. That's what he felt. That fire that bore into his chest, demanding for him to do more than just stand here and talk. Unlike most of his fights in the past and future, this encounter was swiftly turning into something more than just an impersonal chat. Before you do that. He began with a sigh. Heavy, sluggish, as if he was regretting the words before they even came out. Call for me. I'll find someone else to care for it other than you.

Give it a chance at least.

He'd never admit it, but that didn't sound like a bad idea either. Pick anyone in this pack, no, this planet and he guaranteed they'd be a better parent than he could ever be. Of course he quickly disregarded the offer, thinking about how bad it would be for anyone to have to deal with children who shared his blood. They were destined to fuck up, it runs in the family.

Why are you doing this? There was a hint of anger in his voice that grew stronger as he went on. You don't know shit about me. You're not the baby's dad or anything. You're a stranger and you shouldn't give a shit about what happens.

Cupid pulled himself up on unsteady legs and stumbled forward. Why don't you mind your own goddamn business and fuck off?

He thought that maybe with the offer things would cool down a bit, the two of them would have an option that would please them both. Rose wouldn't have to turn a blind eye to a parent destroying the life they were blessed with. Instead, the drunken individual continued. Digging them a hole with which both would stand within stubbornly. 

As the other stumbled forward, Rosencrantz strode forward with strong strides, sure-footed - a stark contrast to the stumbling of the other darker one. Because you give Rusalka a bad name. Leaving a bitter taste in the air with your presence. He began, words drumming in his throat as his voice boomed while to towered over the other. Shoulders square while his golden hues stared down at the other with disgust. 

I don't give a fuck about you, but someone has to care for the good of the kid. He paused, letting his eyes linger on the bump swelling in the gut of this creature. If it were up to me; I'd slice you from throat to pubis if it would save the damned child within you.

When the man stomped forward Cupid did to. Well, he tried at least. It'd be more acurate to call it a clumsy shuffle. He looked like an absolute wreck; fur unkept, eyes glazed over, on the verge of of collapsing. Cupid looked so weak compared to the towering giant and he hated that.

He rolled his eyes at the mention of Rusalka. As if he didn't know that already. Cupid gave everything a bad name, it was just in his blood. That was the entire reason why he'd been avoiding everyone for so long. He briefly wondered why he thought it was a good idea to join any pack in the first place. The reasoning slipped his mind.

The threat was appealing to him. He'd love if everything just ended right now. Just fucking do it then. He balanced on his toes in an attempt to meet the man's gaze. He just ended up stumbling to the side. Do it already. I don't give a fuck.

This one's attitude was unbelievable. It infuriated him. More so that he was caught in the crosshairs of some kind of moral decision. The individual egged him on, and though he flinched, clearly itching to put his threat into action - instead, he offered a hideous toothy grimace. A plume of white forcefully exploding from nos nostrils as he snorted in frustration. 

Oh how he wanted to.

But it would be against his desires to see the whelp, or whelps, flourish someday. Three weeks. He began before turning his back on the pathetic excuse of a wolf. Someone like this made his glad an iron fist man like his father raised him in some way the way he did - at least Rosencrantz and his brother had some kind of head on their shoulders. Quick to temper, but at least they weren't this pathetic. In three weeks I will find you, and wait for the delivery. 

And take the pup to a milking female who would be willing to have him watch over them, and the pup(s) until they no longer needed teets.

He opted to tilt his head upwards. That way he could glare into the man's eyes and he'd have access to the throat he wanted to cut so bad. Cupid grew more impatient as the seconds ticked by. Just get it over with already.

Nothing happened. No teeth pierced through his neck, no blood stained his chest. The brute turned away and gave him a warning. Three weeks. Cupid didn't have time to wait that long. Whatever he was planning on doing, he needed to do it now. He was tempted to yell at him, or shove him, or bite him, but he stayed in his place.

Three weeks to enjoy life to the best of his abilities. After that, it's over. Looking forward to it, he said dully.