Boartusk Heights maduro

the fledglings had grown so much.
arguably, too much.

the queen reminisces on when they were small, pressed against her belly. there was enough milk for all of them — she'd made sure of that — and yet they all fought for every drop. now, however, they know the taste of blood. their bodies are growing, and shifting — soon vincent will be a man, and her daughters will be women.

she leads the four of them now to the great hall, her nails sending ripples of sound as she deliberates her first orders for her children. she stops and turns with a sweep of her tail, and looks down at the four.

my children. a smile tugs her lips. you've all grown up so fast.. it's high time i release you from the nursery. reyna speaks quietly, delicately at first, eyeing each child.
you still have much to learn.. like manners. she glances towards vincent. ..and obedience. she narrows her eyes towards valeria.
but that will come with time. today, you'll be picking your rooms. she nods behind her. first come, first serve. pick carefully, my darlings.

@Valeria @Vincent @Candela @Nymphora puppy thread!!!!

claiming the second spot across from the grand hall

Who knew all that time spent cave-diving through the palace would come to use—Nymphora knew exactly which of the tunnels she wished to make her own. She wanted to be close to the grand hall, make all the important meetings, hear all the important words that were spoken and reserved for the older wolves.

The way the pampered fledgeling saw it, she was a princess, and therefore had every right to know what was being discussed—age be damned! She was plenty old enough to handle all sorts of things. 

She would turn to look over her siblings, see if they too were as eager as she was to not have to share a bed with each other. As they had gotten bigger, bedtime had become a mess, limbs sprawled about in every direction; it hardly made for a comfortable sleeping experience. 

Nymph would decorate her own bed, cover it in flowers and bones, and none of the other three were invited. She still held a bitter taste in her mouth after getting kicked in the stomach by one of them while they all slept a night ago- the culprit still unknown to her, and so they would take the blame that festered in her rosy gaze. 

Turning back from her sisters and brother, she looked up at her mother while she inched forward, permission was given, but she still hesitated. ...I want that one. She said quietly to the matriarch, pointing down the hall with her nose.

cameo!

No longer is Paloma fluttering at the flank of her Matriarca's side. This night, she follows behind the peppy trotting steps of the royal children, as their nails click against the cavern flooring. Through winding halls, it was time for them to seek out their own chambers. Paloma held back the deep sigh. Now, she would have four more quarters she would need to make sure we're kept in tip-top shape.

He is led alongside his sisters to the entrance of the grand hall, and it is there that their mother addresses them, the fur of her tail trailing along the ground like a silken dress as she turns to face them, their handmaiden obediently standing at the rear.

Vincent straightens proudly, lifting his chin at her comment on how much they had grown. Though the pointed look cast his way by Reyna as she continues to speak takes some of the wind out of his sails, but her son chooses to pretend he does not see it, instead staring down the halls where their new rooms lay in wait.

First come, first serve. Nymphora wastes no time in laying claim to her spot, and Vincent follows her gesture down into the inky darkness. He notes her quiet shuffle forwards and, with a cocky grin, darts out of formation to get to the inner chamber before her. "Not if I get it first!" he shouts, boyish laughter echoing off the stone walls.

What had mother said about learning manners?

she gives a passing glance towards paloma when vincent declares the same den as nymphora — seemingly without much thought. funnily enough, it is the ones most like their father that conflict.

nymphora had already decided long ago, seemingly, with how quickly she came to her decision. but she had no bite. there was no confidence in her decision, fine one as it was. this must change if she considers herself of nocturne blood. nocturne ferocity and confidence ran through vincent and valeria's veins. for nymphora and candela, they'll have to muster it.

reyna does not defend her daughter, craning her head upwards. instead, she watches keenly. well? what do you think?

if her daughters refuse to stand tall, then they must feel and learn what injustice is.

valeria and candela are welcome to jump in at any moment btw, but atm consider them NPC

Vincent's challenge would be met with a shrill, protesting screech as she took off after him. Nobody would ever scold him- so Nymphora saw fit to do it herself the only way she knew how. Her words were easy enough to disregard, but her teeth? Not so. 

She would shove him as they ran together, and be shoved in turn. He was faster, sure, but that was soon to bite him in the behind as she stuck a foot out to trip his own. This would be settled one way; a good old fashioned showdown. Nymphora rejected the race. I called it Vincent! get your own! she let out a little snarl.

Nymphora's banshee scream that rang out behind Vincent spurred him gleefully on, though his mood quickly soured as he heard the strike of nails against stone as she gave chase. Her shoves were easy enough to endure but his sister played dirty; he should have seen it coming. A single pale paw interrupted his stride, and Vincent was sent tumbling to the ground with an indignant screech of, "NY-YYMPH!"

Clumsily rolling onto his paws, the boy met her snarl with one of his own before he then launched himself at her, attempting to pull her onto the stony floor by one black-tipped ear. The claim on the room had been forgotten, replaced by the wound against his pride that needed to be avenged.

a slight amusement twisted a crooked smile onto the vampiress. precious things, beastly things. their fangs needed to be sharpened, afterall, if they were to be called nocturne. why not towards themselves with the mediation of their mother.

but her smile drops from a weight that dawns on her. how much had their father missed since their births? what was the point of marriage if she is the only one to watch as their fledglings leave the safety of her wings and clutch, to begin to fly on their own? why chase him here if she could've had them within her old palace walls.
when there were more? when they had so much more than now, where they continue to be trampled. disrespected. for once, the vampiress is reminded of her heart through an ache.

vincent. she calls out as he reached for a delicate ear of his sister. narrowing crimson eyes, the queen finally steps in. you will have your own room. the both of you have earned your keep. a pale paw separates the pudgy bodies from their tango. there are plenty of rooms to pick still, my son. but you will lose them all if you remain stubborn, and continue to fight what is not yours.

Nymphora let her frazzled fur fall back, and shot Vincent a smug glare as she puffed out her chest; the taste of victory sweet in her mouth, and the taste of blood absent, this time around. She bit back the urge to rub it in his face further, and instead let her eyes fall on Valeria and Candela, a subtle warning to them not to even try. 

Looking up at their mother, Nymph looked like she was fit to burst from the sheer joy of approval; she tried to wear this delight with class, and straightened her posture, pointed her chin, curled her stippled tail around oversized paws. She waited to see which room Vincent would be resigned to, now that he had been denied her own claim. She had half a mind to tell mother to stick him in the dark, wet one in the back of the palace.

He barely manages to pull his sister even partway to the ground before the matriarch intervenes. The urge to rip Nymphora's delicate ear tip between his teeth almost overwhelms him; to give her a mark to remind her against wounding his pride. Instead, Vincent begrudgingly releases with a ptoo! for good measure, and allows himself to be separated from his warring sibling with a graceful sweep of his mother's paw.

As Reyna gently reprimands him, all fury leaves the boy's eyes as he looks up to his mother with respect reserved for her, and her only. Though he quickly shoots a glare to his sister sitting so prim and proper, no doubt gloating over her perceived win.

"Then I want the other one," he mumbles dejectedly after a moment, motioning with a toss of his head at the first room, the one closest to the entrance of the great hall and to the right of Nymphora's claim.

Whatever.

In the future, when he inherited the throne, he would sleep in the most grand chamber, the one his parents currently occupied, and his siblings would be forbidden from even looking at it.

the boy, thankfully for her, relents from his sister. but there was no anger in reyna when he grumbled.
the same aloof pout of him. perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised when the mirror that was her son reflected his father. reyna couldn't help then but tilt her head with a chuckle and offer him a lick to his head. her precious, grouchy little prince.

ay, mi amor. you will have plenty more things to come besides a room. the queen cooed, before crimson eyes flicked to nymphora. she mouthed a "good job," so as her pouty son to not see her giving praise to someone other than himself.