Duskfire Glacier Stuck in the middle

Time - 5:00 pm Sunday | Weather - light rain | Notes; @Imaq or @Tzila , I'll make another thread for whoever doesn't get to it first! 

Also pardon me for the late/slow replies I have gotten the job I've been after for quite a while, needless to say, I am pretty consumed with it! But slowly and surely I am getting my new schedule together!

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Hesitation hung thickly in the air, the flowing water being the dominating noise heard admits birds, wind, rain and the chatters of the woodchucks in the distance. Rye held onto some reservations about hunting since his last attempt, although memories of the accident still failed to find him, the hotah did not wish to make another mistake. Thankfully, the woodchucks were blissfully ignorant of Ryes presence as he hid in-between the tall cattails that littered the bank. The breeze had not betrayed the male since his arrival, it gusted opposite of the hotahs direction. He could deeply smell the groundhogs with each burst of wind, it rumbled his belly but the meal was not for him. One of the three females expecting would be the recipient of his meal, two if the bicolored man could manage to take down both that sat in the stream. The groundhogs both waddled up the stream, closer to him, his body quieted any movements and pulled him closer to the ground. The thudding of his heart echoed in his ears as the pair drew closer, the time to strike was calling and Rye swiftly answered. 

The other escaped but not without wounds to nurse, Ryes own did not scream in agony but merely grumbled at its sudden gosling. The thinner cut along his back was healed, the small wound having a half weeks head start to grow back its fur while his deeper, more harsh shoulder wound had yet to shed its final scab. The outer edges only had small patches of fuzz but nothing substantial enough to cover exposed, scarred flesh. Another scar to add to his growing collection, his first given by a fire and the second given by a woman in a territorial standoff. He was lucky to leave that place alive and lucky to stay alive after enduring a nasty infection. 
Rye began to head back to the glacier, his gait a speedy trot, his bounty hanging by its scruff in his maw. The hotah was hoping to run into Tzila, they had quite the catching up to do and of course Imaq. A weeks passing since their own coupling left Rye worried of if the ivory female would take to pregnancy. There was an incredulous amount of unexpected anxiety that came with the realization that he may be a father. Thoughts he had ruminating in his head for the entirety of the past week, but a budding stem of excitement and joy had planted itself in his chest. Each time his thoughts were brought back to the idea of fatherhood, the buds would fully blossom into pride and fear. A confusing mixture of emotion but ones he accepted as the normal emotional trials of being a first time father. If Imaq became pregnant that is, and Tzila? Well Rye was sure he wouldn't have to worry about being father to her litter, he was so confident that none of the little ones growing within was going to be his. How nuts would that be if it turned out to be the opposite, right?

With the hotah finally setting foot back into glacier territory, he went past polaris icefield and headed towards the cave system in hopes of spotting one of the females on his way there.

Rye was in luck, if it was Tzila he was hoping to run into. Already well within the cave system, the dark mother to be was at work. All he needed to do was follow the clues of her trail. Faint impressions of paw prints left on the ice told of her journey. Her scent was strong, laced with the sweet pungent drops of pregnancy. Fawn colored hairs not belonging to any wolf, also littered the path. Evidence of a new catch. Her victim had been a young deer, only several weeks old. Prey so small and caught alone, away from its mother, was simple for her to take down without assistance. The meal had long since been devoured, leaving only fur and skin for remains. These she would keep, but first, as Imaq had shown her, the pelt had to dry and cure.

It was still early yet, but at five weeks into her pregnancy, the cogs and gears in her head were already beginning to turn. She had been through this all once before. The first time she was inexperienced and perhaps even a little careless. Now, having learned from the past, she acted more prudently. Laying down on the cool stone floor, her slightly swollen belly was further testament to the growing lives within. A sudden jolt and a blink of silvered eyes. A soft sound of surprise. It was no more than a gentle flutter deep in her womb, the waves moving and stretching her in odd ways. She knew instinctively, without a doubt, that it was the pups stirring inside her. They were alive and well. And unlike last time, there was definitely more than two. She drew in a breath, gently running her black nose over the side of her stomach, where the potential future heirs and heiresses of Duskfire grew.

His movements were swift, paws met the ground with a soft thud and crunch. The everlasting snow atop the glacier ice gave hint to his approach and gave away Tzilas whereabouts, her scent changed but maintained to be identifiable for the male. A quiet hum of acknowledgment slipped past his conscience and past the hanging woodchuck, the shadow of a woman was pregnant. There was no uncertainty. A tiny speck of jealousy arrived and settled in the hotahs heart, an envious string of thoughts linked together in his mind, goading ideas of challenges. No longer were his legs moving swiftly, they slowed down to a mere walk and kept reducing their pace as the speck turned into a dark blotch. Hawk eyes scouted the icy cave, coming to rest on the outline of the entrance. The envy sickened him, though their relationship was complicated, Tzila was his friend and to devilishly harbor such a possessive mindset troubled him immensely. His troubles only furthered as confusion further muddled the murky waters. Had he fallen from his standings, into a pit of ferocious jealousy? Was he truly to blame for his break in morals? Rye refused to give his worries the dignity of being processed, there would be no conclusion to his broods because he had an inkling of an idea why his mood soured. 
Mother nature. She was anything but prude, only a confident, conniving being that sent nearly every creature back to their savage roots from time to time. Others roots were less asinine and more, practical, in the sense of furthering their bloodline or a more noble cause of wanting a family. And Rye? Well, naturally he was a good man, figures nature would tighten the delicate emotional strings into a sinister tune and play him like an orchestra. He was not obvious to her tricks and enjoyment, at least not totally but the hotah wasn't going to let his own known personal issues interject themselves where they needn't be. Ryes legs moved again, his decent into natures frozen cellar a cautious one.
There she was, her muzzle delicately skimming the top of her faintly swollen belly. A gentle decent ended with a small leap to the floor below, the vermin in his mouth bouncing obnoxiously around after Ryes landing. Small drops of blood stained the ground once the hotah settled after the jump, hopefully it would entice the belly of the vixen. However, the sight of the remnants of a fawn ripped the wind from his sails and he pathetically deflated. Despite that, and the fact his mouth was full, it wouldn't keep him from attempting to smile, his jealousy still yet to subside but again, that would not stop him from greeting a friend. Rye approached rather hurriedly, not wanting Tzila to need to get up from her position if she didn't have to and relinquished the fuzz ball from his mouth. He was willing to dote on her, Imaq and Lane too, it was his secret pleasure to indulge in when he could. Yes, he was a little one sided with his doting but it was highly likely Wintersbane, or any other male Rye knew, would raise an eyebrow to their special treatment. So sticking to women (and sick patients) was preferable and less trouble, sometimes.
"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, sitting on his haunches. His question quickly followed by another. "Are they okay?" The number was unknown but Rye assumed it to be more than simply one, as was the normal in his mind.       

Glancing up, silver eyes flashing with alertness, Tzila was quick to acknowledge the arrival of another pack mate entering the caves. The masculine scent that flooded in her nostrils told her who it was. Rye had come to pay a visit. Tracking her down, bearing a freshly caught woodchuck as a gift, for her, presumably. Her brows knitted when she saw him deflate at the sight of the fawns leg by her side. Just as swiftly as he swooped in, dropping the offering by her paws, she reached up. Extended her muzzle to him, brushing the cool touch of her nose tenderly along the lighter hairs of his throat. "Don't worry about that. It is just skin and bones. I'm only saving it to craft into a pelt." She hummed softly, trying to assure his bruised ego.

He really needn't go to so much trouble, tending her like this. He and Wintersbane both. Last year, Tzila had kept active up until the very end, although Astaroth did offer his assistance. This...she wasn't used to it. But it actually was kind of nice. She beckoned him to come lay down beside her, attentive eyes tracing over the healing scars wrapped around his shoulder. "I am well. Ravenous and a little uncomfortable, but nothing I can't handle." She replied with an easy smile. "They...they are getting more and more active by the day. They're vigorous." Leveling her eyes with his amber ones, she shared a deep look. "In fact...I just felt one kick, right before you came in." She leaned in closer, letting her lips rest at the outermost rim of an ear. "Maybe they know..."

He met her half way, gently pressing into her muzzle as it slid across his fur, a small smile lifting and brightening his golden eyes. Tzila attained her goal, Ryes ego was soothed and he was more than willing to lay at her side. Quietly, he reveled in her presence. Her voice as smooth as marble to his ears, and pacified any stress in his wound or on his mind. For a moment, he let himself breath in deep, her scent following after the sharp, frozen air. The last time her aroma graced his nose was, well, a night he would not forget for sometime. 

Tzila broke the silence with her answer, her sterling eyes locked with his and had Rye at full attention, his own golds staring back her attentively. As she drew closer, her lips resting at his ear, a shiver traced his spine and readily competed with his heart in speed. The vixens words felt like it belonged in a fever dream but the pulsating pain from his wound sharply assured him it was no dream. Rye readjusted himself as to face his packmate, there was alarm in his eyes but also confusion. Was she suggesting they were going to be his? "Are you saying.. They're mine?" His voice edged on frantic but still, he attempted to keep his composure. Rye was certain Wintersbanes scent was on her first, they were supposed to be the alphas offspring, not his own. "I smelled him Tzila, I smelled Wintersbane on you. They—" Couldn't be his. That would be impossible.. He had the talk, his parents told him everything. "Could they?" He asked shyly, alarm and confusion etched into his eyes turned into whatever emotion embodies 'oh shit'.       

With a low crooning sound of affection, she beckoned him to come and lounge by her side on the refreshing coolness of the stone floor. His tension and uncertainty seemed to melt away, the bruises to his ego fading. She breathed in deeply, sampling his masculine scent that she knew so well. Just...being here with him put her at such ease. Made her feel naturally peaceful. 

Her little message seemed to have re-ignited some form of alarm in him. She shuffled towards him a couple of inches, the tips of her ears flickering up and down. Visual cues to put him at ease. But Tzila was also going to be honest. Hiding the truth from any of her pack mates would only lead to complications later down the line. "What I am saying is, is that it is possible." She made an uncomfortable face, the muscles around her hips tightening. The pups were pressing down, wriggling more as her heart picked up just slightly. "Wintersbane may have gotten to me first, but I was still fully receptive when we coupled. I have heard of a few cases where pups in a litter can have different fathers..." She ended with a smile in her voice, to give him hope.

Nothing made any logical sense, one minute he was rife with jealousy and the next Rye felt regret, fear even. Imaq complicated things, although it was yet to be confirmed she was indeed pregnant, Rye was fairly hopeful they were to be parents before the sweltering august heat set in. He swallowed hard, a thick knot of anxiety settling down in the depths of his belly. A father to a litter and a half, Rye didn't want to believe her. He did not want to play with the idea that maybe he made a mistake, that maybe he was more irresponsible than previously imagined. The hotah scoured the females expression, hoping for any sign she was jesting and in his vein search, it was found. A smile in the woman's voice, one he (willingly) misconstrued as the sign and back to denial he went.

"No, that's impossible. It was too late.. I was too late." He paused, shaking his head. "Tzila, don't joke around like that." He warned, it wasn't a threat but more a plea than anything else. However, he was angry, at himself. He didn't understand why he wasn't happy, why his mind had changed so quickly. He felt crazy with the all the sudden ups and downs. He felt scared. Scared he made a mistake, that he wouldn't be able to amount to anything for Imaq and his maybe babies. Scared that if some of Tzilas turned out to share his colors, he wouldn't be anything to them either. Rye knew he wanted children but he wasn't prepared for what possibilities laid in secret for the future.  

Her expression morphed. Any lightheartedness fading from her eyes, replaced by a more serious, but not quite harsh, glare. She shook her head, dark ears pivoting back to add to the seriousness of her new look. "No, Rye. I am not joking." Her voice was low, honest. There was no blame, no accusation in it towards him. "There is every possible chance that some of these children will share some of your genes. I have seen it before. Order doesn't make no difference." 

Her thoughts drifted back to Wintersbane, and the growing feelings she had for the tundrian. To the day when she coupled with him, and then the next, with Rye. Instinct had guided her then. Mostly. But she still felt a close connection to the Hotah as well, in a different way. She wanted to assert herself, but not with dominance. To put his delusions to rest with her common sense. Whether or not it would work, was up to him. She looked him squarely in the eyes. "Look, Rye. Neither of us knows the truth. Not until they are born, and maybe not even then. But, regardless of who the true father is, I want you to be a part of their lives. If you think about it it is kind of unavoidable. We are a tightly knit pack, after all and that is just the way I like it."

His nostrils flared with a large exhale, the stresses his body held close to itself were exhumed with his deep breath but not entirely gone. Rye couldn't look at Tzila directly, the vulnerability that came with it was far too much to withstand, instead he looked just below her, at the ground. His eyes scanning the floor and the contents, looking at the ice and bits of rock that were melded together from centuries of wear and tear. Another deep breath in and a long exhale. Rye may have appeared to not be paying attention but the flickers of his ears and occasionally his tail, would hopefully prove otherwise. Tzilas words sunk into his heart like a rock would sink in water, one loud plunge and then the final settle for years to come and go. His lack of reaction, or deviation from his glare would have echoed that immensely. Long after her words had finished reverberating within the chamber, Rye still remained quiet, deeply contemplating his next words. 
After the final minute passed, his eyes would return to meet Tzilas. "What of Wintersbane? If one or more.. No, if all of them share my colors, what will he say? I have other," A brief pause to find a word. "Obligations to take care of here Tzila, I can't afford to be cast out." A small hint of his coupling with Imaq but that's all Rye wanted to give, nothing was a sure thing. He wasn't sure what to call it, Imaq was not an obligation but a need, a want. He couldn't and wouldn't abandon her if she was indeed expecting (maybe not even if she wasn't), if he had to fight to stay then he would fight till his muscles failed. Rye made his bed, now he was prepared to lie in it.   

OOC: Last post for me, so we can wrap this up.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Don't worry about Wintersbane. He wanted a family and that is what I promised him. He will accept these cubs as his own, no matter their lineage." She stood up, giving her fur a shake, freeing it of any dust. "I am sure he understands that we all may not have been as careful as we should this year. You are much too valuable a member of the pack to simply be cast out like that."

Fixing him with a meaningful look, it was clear that if she had to, she would back Rye up. But her feelings for Wintersbane were strong. She couldn't deny it. "Maybe never knowing the truth will be for the best." They were thinking too far ahead. Right now, Tzila didn't need to be stressing over this and neither did he. She would wait until the day they were born. Then, maybe they would have more answers. Or maybe even more confusion. Regardless, she would let nothing change the bond already between her, Wintersbane and Rye. They were of Duskfire. Tightly knit and in it together.

The storm had been quelled, the silent rumblings of his inner machinations could no longer subsist on his fears and were subsequently starved. Knowing Tzila had his back was a load off his mind, Rye felt himself physically loosen up as his muscles relaxed from their tense state. Deflating considerably as the large pockets of air released the withheld oxygen, it was surprising for Rye to feel himself hold so much of his stress literally within his body and not entirely notice. "Okay," He said, voice containing a bit of left over uncertainty. "Thank you Tzila. Even if none don't share my colors, I'll still be there to help out." Rye reassured his verbal commitment with a smile before excusing himself, saying his farewells, and leaving from the ice cave.