Dragoncrest Cliffs Spindrift

The temperature would drop and raise again as the coastline flirted with the change in seasons. Day by day the leaves on the boughs grew more colorful which signaled that it was time to hunt grouse.

The small birds were tricky prey. Loss after loss, Njord began to deveop a technique to catch them. I must teach this to the kids, the seafarer thought as he returned to the Greatpine to deliver his catch to @Meerkat.

Meerkat sprawled in a patch of sunshine, staring down at the tufts of dry grass between her forelegs. When Njord approached, she snapped out of her trance and smiled up at her husband and his catch. The expression did not quite reach her eyes.

But that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with their daughter. “Mom, I think I want to go traveling,” Mercy had told her just this morning. When Meerkat expressed dismay at the timing—her da had only just turned up again—the girl had looked away guiltily before coming back with,“I’ll come back! Anyway, you left your pack when you were my age, didn’t you?”

She would have to tell Njord about that conversation. For now, she sat up to properly admire the dead grouse he’d brought her and then slip her muzzle alongside her mate’s. She left little kisses along his jaw, expressing her gratitude not just for the food but for his presence.

He found his wife in respose. Sunshine made the wheaten-buff of her pelage glow like light on water. She looked almost ethereal.

Despite the scene’s serentiy and her smile, Njord could read her expression like water pulled away from the pools during low tide. Something stirred behind her warm gaze – but what? Njord first conclusion was self-centered. His return had rocked Sapphqiue’s boat and it felt like every relationship he ever had in the pack, including his marriage, was damaged in some way.

Njord did his best to bear the weight of these feelings himself.

The bird-hunter crooned at Meerkat’s attentions – wanting to return the affection, if it weren’t for a mouthful of sticky feathers. He took a seat besides her, and began to dress the grouse for Meerkat by pulling away the feathers from its breast.

“I can see there is somethin’ on yer mind,” he observed. “Share your heart with me?” Njord offered.

He pulled away to begin defeathering the carcass, which made her think briefly of making a game out of plucking a gull with Swordfish. Her heart smiled at the brief recollection, even if her mouth didn’t. It turned down a little more when Njord urged her to share with him.

Sucking in a deep breath, she confessed, Mercy wants to leave the pack, go traveling. She paused for a beat before continuing, I think I planted a seed, when I took them to Mereo. And I told her how my brother and I left our pack when I was her age. I was younger than her, actually. I knew this day might come and I told myself to handle it with grace. But…

It was easier said than done. Meerkat had so much empathy for Towhee of yore. In her own defense, Meerkat hadn’t gone off by herself; she had taken Bronco with her. Mercy had no such elder brother ready and willing to uproot with her. There was no one at all to accompany her and the mother knew, based on the contextual clues of the conversation, that Mercy wanted to do this on her own anyway.

Her eyes dropped as she made a second confession: I asked her not to go now, not so soon after you returned. I shouldn’t have done that. I always wanted to raise our kids to have agency, to be independent, and here I am, crying about it, Meerkat finished, indeed sniffling, tears bright in her eyes.

Njord listened thoughtfully as Meerkat spoke her mind, surprised by the turn her story took. He was thankful that there was enough trust left between them to be candid with one another, despite all the time apart. Finished with his plucking job, Njord nosed the forest bird, russet red breast revealed, to his partner. Perhaps a bit of food would help keep the tears at bay.

He kissed her cheek, afraid that he had sowed the seeds of trauma of abandonment in Meerkat’s heart. “Och, Mercy me," he quoted. "Dinna fash, my love… tis a big step worth cryin’ about,” he assured her – an attempt to validate her worries. “It’s been a hard week full o’ change. An’ we ‘av only been back together for a short time,” he added.

He bent down and picked up two tail feathers from the grass and began to twist them in the long ruff of Meerkat’s neck. “She has tha heart of her mother. An’ apparently some of her Da, too,” he joked darkly. Njord couldn’t help but wonder what their path would look like if he had never swam away. Would Mercy be more rooted in Sapphique? Would Meerkat feel better prepared for her departure? He kept these thoughts private.

“If there’s no stoppin’ the lass, one of us could travel with her for a while. Watch over her,” Njord suggested.

She cast him a watery smile when he nudged the freshly bared grouse to her, though she couldn’t bring herself to take a bite just yet. Instead, she bent an ear, taking comfort in her husband’s familiar, accented timbre. She felt validated when he reassured her that her feelings and her tears were both valid, though Meerkat still wished she hadn’t discouraged Mercy. That wasn’t the sort of mother she wanted to be.

But the wash of her tears and her sniffles both came to a sudden stop when Njord suggested one of them accompany their daughter. Perhaps, in different circumstances, she would have entertained the idea. She probably would’ve decided against it, in the end, as it went against her principles nearly as badly as trying to get her to stay home. If Mercy wanted to go, it was her decision to make, even if her young age did make it harder.

But it was all moot because nearly the instant he suggested it, Meerkat breathed in sharply and said, No. Her eyes lingered on him, sharp and bright. Absolutely not. You and I will never be part again, Njord Sveijarn-Corten. Somehow, her voice managed to come out tender and severe all at once, the tone of it absolutely brooking no argument.

Njord’s expression widened in astonishment of Meerkat’s decree, chin tucked against his throat from the bite of her tone and the full use of his name (he suddenly felt his flame fanned). Then, as a smile broke his feature, loud waves of laughter rolled from the highland man like thunder. It was the first time, in a long time, that he had felt catharsis like this. Loytalty, admiraiton, and joy for this woman overcame him. A moment of love found in a time of hardship.

“Then it will be so,” Njord agreed with a corsair grin. Meerkat would, forever and always, hold his heart in her paws.

His demenor calmed. “Our little lass out in the world…” Njord’s eyes turned skyward as he reflected. “Do ya think she will lead a clan of her own someday?” the father entertained.

At his loud bray of laughter, her ears fell back in slight surprise. But she began to smile too, then chortle along. For good measure, she put her teeth to the grouse and tore it, jokingly shooting Njord a look as if to say, I mean business!

Their laughter died down after a moment and Meerkat bit back a sigh. She drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She thought about her mate’s postulation and decided that, yes, Mercy most certainly had the boldness and fire that would make for a strong leader.

I just hope she’s happy, wherever she goes and whatever she does, the Laramite spoke softly, then busied herself with shredding the dead bird into pieces, though she did pause to add, And safe. Happy and safe.

“Happy an’ safe,” Njord echoed in agreement. He pressed his nose to Meerkat’s cheek. If there was a way to guarantee their young daughter’s safety he would make it so. Peril was no stranger to Teekon’s woods and the seafarer only wished he had been more present to become involved and help teach Mercy in the ways of the world.

“How about I catch her some game an’ we can have a family send off?” Njord suggested. “A full belly will ‘elp her through the first week.”

She had successfully reduced the fowl into smaller morsels, which she began to nibble. Meerkat didn’t feel hungry, though she would absolutely not waste this gift. While he had been away, she would’ve given so much just for Njord to bring her a meal like this. This bird not only filled her stomach but her heart.

When her husband suggested they throw a going away party for Mercy, she swallowed the latest mouthful of grouse down a thickened throat. She loved the idea, of course, and Njord made a solid point about feeding her. But that also served to remind Meerkat of the hardships their daughter would face out there on her own.

Yes, that’s a wonderful idea, she said in a small voice, looking away before finding Njord’s eye and making yet another confession. I keep thinking about asking one of her brothers to go with her… but I don’t want them to go, either. From the day they were born, I told myself to raise them to leave the nest. I really tried to bring them up to be able to handle the world. And I told myself to be ready. But I’m not. I’m not ready.

A single tear slipped free, running down her muzzle. Meerkat dabbed at it with a sigh, then smiled despite the heaviness on her heart.

But she is. That’s the thing. I—we did it. We raised our children to feel knowledgeable and prepared about the world, to venture into it confidently. Even though I’m kind of kicking myself for being a bit too successful at it, it’s comforting to know that Mercy is as prepared as she possibly can be.

Though Meerkat agreed with Njord’s idea, it was evident by the way her bronze gaze flitted away that not all of her concerns had been voiced. He slipped back into listening mode. Solutions were not needed now – only his attention.

“You are so brave, mo chride,” the husband observed as his nose brushed against her temple to smooth out a stray hair. “You ‘av been raisin’ her alone an’ teaching her the ways of the world. Mercy will carry that bravery with her when she fledges, I reckon. After all, she learned it from you. Tis the only reason I can watch her go… knowin’ she had you as her teacher.”

Njord paused introspectively. “Feels like jus’ yesterday she was openin’ her eyes for the first time,” he remembered wimsically.

His words soothed her, though more tears sprang to her eyes. When he spoke of the day the pups had first opened their eyes, Meerkat crooked a paw to press against her own eyes in turn. She drew in a wet, sniffly breath and smiled tremulously.

For a while, she didn’t trust herself to speak. But as Meerkat sat there, trying to steady her breathing, a realization slowly stole over her. Before his return, she had come to terms with Njord’s indefinite absence from her life. And not once had she turned her mind toward moving on to build a future with anyone else.

Now that he was back, Meerkat could look forward again: look forward to another litter in the spring, perhaps. She sucked in a breath, which caught in her throat, her chest pinching with a strange combination of fear and hope. Could she do this all over again?

Yes, she thought fiercely, I want to make more babies with this man. She had nearly lost him and any chance at more progeny. But now they could plan to grow their family more come springtime. Perhaps Meerkat could let Mercy go if she could clutch at the hope for more babes to raise in the new year.

Not that we can ever replace Mercy, or any of our children, Meerkat finally found her voice, but it just occurred to me that we can—we will—have more children next year, and the year after, and the year after that… Now her eyes sparkled as they met Njord’s. Maybe we could call one after your da.

Like a small squall, more tears came and then subsided. A few moments of quiet passed between them and Njord leaned against Meerkat as she found her emotional footing.

What she said next caught the seaman unawares. Guilt and shame’s ship stayed anchored in the harbor of his heart. Fear was there, too. How could he propose to become a father again after he had hurt the ones he loved most? His body tensed with conflict. He was happy. Loved. Cherished. Meerkat trusted him, even though he didn’t quite trust himself.

“I woulda blamed ye if you had said the opposite,” Njord admitted as he watched the precious twinkle of Meerkat’s eyes. “You av forgiven me, but I am still strugglin’ with recievin’ it.” Resentment from others in the pack had made this a difficult task, as well.

Yet, he held fast to the bond of their relationship. It steadied him like a rutter in stormy seas. Njord’s jaw clenched as a short breath exhaled from his nose. “There is nothin’ that would fill my heart more than bringin’ new life into this world with you, mo Suricate. I cherish you.” A glimmer into a new future revealed itself to him, then… and Njord was thankful for it.

She felt another stab of fear when he confessed that he wasn’t quite ready to receive her forgiveness. What if Njord refused to bear more children, after stumbling with his first two litters? Before her stomach could sink completely, he confessed that he would love the opportunity to parent with her again. Meerkat let out a small noise, more of a gasp than a sigh of relief.

I cherish you too, she murmured to him, eager to discuss this further but instead setting the topic aside for a rainy day. And I cherish our kids, present and future. I want to spend as much time with Mercy as possible before she goes. Meerkat took a deep, deep breath. Let’s talk more about that send-off party…

This might be a good place to fade? :)

Njord smiled warmly and bumped his head against hers as a cat would. “That sounds like a bonny idea,” the sea man agreed. With the grouse eaten and their worries ironed out, Njord turned his attention to planning a sendoff for their daughter with Meerkat.