Hushed Willows Mythic

@Tavi

Warbone guarded Octavia at his side like a secret, the bot of them traveling sluggishly as they crossed the threshold of the Keep. Privately, he felt the need to sequester her from the rest of the pack, stow her away so that only his eyes might capture her— but he was aware this his possessiveness was heightened in the face of her pregnancy; the promise of another generation, even if it was not his own legacy. He would not let himself cage the bird of storms, and he would not ignore his own Law. Still, it was with incredibly mixed emotions that he sought to take her to The Crook.

He did not wonder how long she would stay, only feeling glad that she was not alone in the wild. He let her take in the sights of his grove at night, and though their line of sight did not travel far into the beauty of the place, the tranquility of it all, woven with cricketsong, was palpable. "What do you think?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and resonating.

He had discovered her in the mire, and had been the only thing to keep her from losing herself. It was a strange thing this relationship — Tavi did not think to call it that, but the two of them had some sort of understanding, and Arkham was keen to rescue her, so she did not doubt his intentions. She needed him, and would follow wherever he led. As she passed between the willow trees that bordered his home, Tavi found herself void of thought entirely. Her body was tired, her heart in pieces despite her insistence to ignore the pain of it, and it took all of her energy to keep herself together as they moved side-by-side.

The trees hid them well. There was a grayness to the world now as she slipped about in the night-time, a bare illumination from the moon, and it caught upon the tendrils of many willow branches, silvering them. As Tavi passed beneath another mane of growth, she felt them touch upon her rounded sides and catch in the fur of her spine; it was a strange feeling, but not unnerving as she thought it might be. Then Arkham spoke — somber in among the shadow — and she felt a tired smile tug at her face. Beautiful, she shares with him, I've been this way before but.. I'd never come up this close.

It was very different from the grotto. The trees provided a sense of shelter which Tavi was in desperate need of, and there was no obvious threat — unless Arkham himself was the threat she thought suddenly, her ears fanning to either side of her round face as a sign of apprehension. Tavi quickly dismissed that thought as a figment of her tired mind, and then exhaled a long, slow, deep breath.

He nodded, finding a tense knot along his spine loosening at her appraisal, not realizing how her opinion of the place worried him. "It was a logical choice for me— tucked away, shielded on all sides. The view of it is just another amenity," he remarked fondly, unwilling to hide the pride of his choice. From the corner of his steel eye, he noticed the brief tuck of her ears, and he could not stop his automatic reaction to place a fond nibble in the space behind her ear. "You are safe with me," he murmured, unaware that he was a partial source of her anxiety. "Do you have an appetite? Or would you prefer just to rest? It is still a ways to the heart of my home... we may rest out here, if you feel the want for a break." There was much he wished to talk with her about, but he was cautious first of her mood. Not only was she hormonal, she was also exhausted both physically and emotionally. The last thing he wanted to do was to pressure her further with his own wants.

Tucked away. That was what she needed to be, now. Hidden from everything. It is perfect for her right now. She listens to him speak, and then feels a tremble in her skin when he moves in to comfort her; it has been a while since Reek had performed any sort of contact with her that wasn't a direct result of his own self-pity, his own sadness, his own anything, and Tavi doesn't know what to do when Arkham makes contact with her. It is foreign, and in her current state she finds it more than unwanted. But he speaks to her too, tries to calm her, and Tavi remembers that this is not the grotto. Reek is back there with the home that he built — and she is here, creeping towards the bosom of a stranger's backyard.

Arkham's many questions are met with an uneasy silence, as if each syllable must be absorbed and translated before Tavi can do anything with them. It takes a little longer than normal for her to process things but when she does, she is smiling again. Maybe it is just to stop herself from being sick — grinning pulls the face muscles in such a way as to counter the gag reflex, you see — because something inside of her is moving again, kicking at her from the inside out. She lets out a brief, Ooph, and staggers, her head lowering and then turning slightly to watch her swelling sides.

I think we need to rest. She finally murmurs, speaking with plurality so as to reference the unborn. The sensation gradually ebbs, and so too does her smile.

She reacted strangely, at first smiling before her expression contorted to accommodate a feeling he could not identify with. He watched her, his expression barely remaining neutral over the margin of concern he was experiencing, but was glad to acquiesce to her wish for rest. He made a small noise in his throat, leading her beneath the cradling boughs of the nearest willow, and then settled down at its base, watching the pregnant she-wolf without expectation. When she has settled into her chosen position, he perks his ears, wondering if she will express any hunger, but the moment passed in silence, leaving him to relax enough to speak casually instead.

"Would you consider leading again, after your children are weened?" he asked, watching her with a hooded gaze.

She looks to him when he calls, though it is a dim sound, and then moves to follow him as he leads her towards one of the many willow trees. Tavi ducks around the hanging whip-branches and slides to her belly beside him, then adjusts, but cannot get comfortable. Eventually she splays out on her side, her belly squished against the ground while her back presses lightly in to his bronze fur. 

Briefly, Tavi wonders if she'll get any bigger — but her thoughts are interrupted by his question, and she breathes a sight from out her nose. Maybe, is all she offers him at first, unsure of everything. Being a leader was a step towards chaos. She had not wanted it for herself, and yet now she was nothing. It would be difficult to adapt back to a life under someone else's rule. I'm not sure. the woman lays her head down on the grass, and her forehead aligns with Arkham's outstretched paws.

It is a lot of work, and.. I wasn't very good at it. Which to Tavi is an understatement. They had failed each other - Reek and Tavi together - and now she was wavering, having lost the confidence and bravado which characterized her sordid youth. She turned her mossy gaze towards him, watching the curve of his jaw and the sharpness of his cheekbone from upside-down. Is it hard for you?

"No," he said softly. "Leading is not difficult for me." He thought about what she said, and the events that had caused her to say it. He had only met her a handful of times, but Warbone had come across many wolves in his life, and over such a time one grew to know things. He shifted his head, looking down at her, studying her even as she studied him. Her face was drawn with anxiety, even in her relaxation, and the taut lines of her face bore clearly the unneeded stress of an expectant mother. It did not bode well for the litter she carried, and this thought drew his analyzing eye to the supple curve of her belly. She carried life within her— an exhaustive experience surely, and probably more of a miracle overall because of it.

The Solothurn breathed heavily through his nostrils, angling his head forward again so that he might resume his scanning of their surroundings. He would not have anyone approach them in this moment. "It is a pity you are not sure," he said after a while. "But you and your partner did not share the same values, making it harder on you than it should have been, so I understand why you might not want to return to the task." He glanced at her, finding himself keen on the way she lay, how soft she looked at this angle. "The first time we met, you were the only one of the two of you to have the appropriate reaction to my presence," he rumbled, his dead eyes flashing. "I think even then I knew I was fond of you." Octavia certainly had the makings of an unshakable leader, but betrayal from those closest to you tended to do irreparable damage at will.

He didn't yet know that Reek's deal with the Dragons had been the catalyst to their split, but all the same, he didn't imagine that it was the type of thing she had approved of, if he knew her as well as he thought he did. He decided to ask. "I am curious, though, of how you came to accept the deal he made with Thuringwethil. I was present when the pact was offered and accepted, and he did not take the time to consider it at all." He frowned at the memory. "But oh to be a fly on the wall of your den that evening. I am sure the pillow talk was wonderful," he jested impishly, licking his chops. Because surely if she hadn't agreed with Reek's decision, someone would've shown up at Sleeping Dragon to inform them the deal was off. Right?

Just realized my posts last night were GARBAGE and ridic short tho. I'm sorry >> lol it was like 4am, my brain was not having it

The fact that leadership had been thrust upon her may have caused some of the upset, she thought. Arkham explained his own view of things and Tavi found herself envious at first; he seemed capable, perhaps even strong, like he was built for such things. Tavi was so filled with doubt — she thought she wasn't built for anything anymore, save for being the broodmare of this unwanted litter. That too was undecided - her hormones were in such a state as to grant her some fondness for her round sides, and the sensation of the lives within her moving about was uncomfortable but not so hated. When the time came for the children to be born, she assumed things would right themselves. It was very likely, in her own mind, that these children would not survive past their inception to the world.

But her thoughts were a varied mess, and Tavi was swiftly taken in by Arkham's rumbling voice. It was soothing regardless of how he used it. Then, speaking of his fondness, Tavi felt an uncomfortable wave of something sweep across her. If it were possible she would have blushed rose-pink beneath the gaze of his attention. Their first meeting had been before the bulk of the stress, but she had always been an easily agitated Alpha. His presence had not been taken well by her — unlike now. How things changed.

I am curious, though, of how you came to accept the deal he made with Thuringwethil. Arkham casually brought up one of the many points of contention between Tavi and her partner (ex-partner?), yet all she could think was, What kind of name is Thuringwethil?

She ignored the queries for a few moments, reaching with her crossed paws at a nearby lock of willow; she felt her elbow joints pop pleasantly and the muscles of her sore limbs stretch. As she was re-crossing them, she gave him his answer - I did not accept it. It is why I left. Though she wished to keep herself removed from all things related to the grotto, it seemed as if this conversation would not deviate from it. The answer was short and sharp, and Tavi imagined that thoughts of the Larksong or of Reek would be twin thorns in her side for days to come.

Tavi took a deep breath to steady herself mentally, and then went ahead to explain, I returned and he said nothing of it. Then there were dragons on my land, claiming to be friends, and I gave him a choice, she couldn't even say Reek's name - how ridiculous. I assume Thuring-whatever did not like what she saw, because I did not hear from them again. But then, she hadn't given anything a chance. Maybe she had returned to the grotto with the hopes of sabotaging it? No, she cared for the wolves there - poorly but to the best of her abilities - and seeing them facing off against the Sleeping Dragon was something she could not stand.

If they were to speak of dragons, then she would be urged to ask about Arkham's history too; she watched his face as she spoke but then, when the lull came, shifted gears. What of you? Do the dragons hold you in high esteem or are you an enemy? To trade one enemy of the mountain for another - but they were further still from it, and maybe secret enough that she would be safe here.

His grey face changed; the stone slate suddenly becoming an ominous storm as she explained. He had smoothed it out of his expression by the time she had finished, but Arkham was not entirely free of the true rage he felt as he thought about the circumstances himself. His head continued to shift in stiff scans of their surroundings, and he knew he wouldn't be rid of the feeling without the sacrifice of blood. His teeth ached like they were coated with tinfoil, and he knew the ache well, remembering it unhappily.

She asked him of the Dragons, and though he still refused to look at her, he was quick enough to answer. "High esteem, of course," he answered pompously; because who did not hold Warbone in high esteem, regardless of whether they liked him or not. "But an enemy, perhaps too. A traitor, may be more like, but if they were hunting me, then I suppose I would have been found already. Unwelcome, I think would be the preferred term here." He sighed. Talking was easing him out of his vengeful mood, or perhaps it was the round-bellied Octavia that was most sobering to the craving beast. But he also knew himself, and he knew he wouldn't feel settled with it unless he asked her.

He moved slowly, angling his head so that he was looking directly onto the presented side of her face. He searched the hollows and the patterns there, and then he met her eye. "Can I kill him?" Softly.

Perhaps it wasn't as safe here as she thought. But it was far removed, as far as Tavi understood; she was no navigator and had never really delved too deeply in to the scouting trade, but felt like the dragons were at such great distance that they posed little thread. Perhaps they were distracted with their war on the maplewood? Or they had already turned their attention upon the grotto — Tavi refused to think about it. When Arkham loomed over her she felt spotlighted, and watched him, wondering about what thought may have crossed his mind.

Can I kill him? he offered plainly, perhaps anticipating a confirmation — she was in this mess because of Reek and there was nothing but animosity within her now, for him. The question passed in one ear and out the other, however, and Tavi lifted herself away from Arkham's devious expression, shifting so that she was on her belly and no longer so close to him. No, came her hasty reply, but then she lulled, as if considering. He is the father of my children and they deserve a father. 

Was that the only reason to keep Reek alive? It felt like a weak excuse. Whatever came of their union could be raised by any number of beasts, they could have anyone for their father. Tavi felt the pit of her stomach twist with the very thought of his death. With a darkness clouding her features, she turned her head and placed it on outstretched paws. Leave the grotto wolves alone — Reek included. He is suffering enough, knowing I am not with him. It felt as if she were trying to bargain for the life of a man she hardly cared for. Even now, far removed from the grotto and Reek's mess, she was trying to fix everything.

Her response did not please him, but it satisfied his violent uncertainty. Since he knew now that he could not direct his ire at the spineless spook, he would simply have to direct it elsewhere— and this was not a task Warbone considered difficult. He licked his chops thoughtfully, though snorted as she mentioned the Grotto wolves. He might've been offended, if he had thought she knew him better. "You think I would target innocent wolves in my vendetta against your paramour? Incite war for the repentance of a single head? I am vicious, my dear. Not stupid." He blinked slowly, perhaps smiling, though it was difficult to tell in the dark, and the dim shine of his eyes gave away very little. "I will not harm him, though, as you believe he deserves his life and I respect you... For some reason yet to be seen." Amusement tickled the fringes of his thrumming tone.

Perhaps she was making a mistake in holding Warbone back. What if she birthed her children and Reek came knocking? What if he found her, and everything went to hell again? Would she give up her children to this man because they shared a history, and the children shared his blood..? Did they really need him as a father figure. Perhaps Warbone would do, Tavi thought suddenly, her mind beginning to drift and go numb as she felt sleep tugging at her consciousness. She heard him speak and was soothed more by the tone of his voice rather than the words, and did not answer his question — hearing it as a rhetorical thing, but also being too tired to bother any verbal attempt.

Suddenly her maw parted, and she loosed a graceless little yawn. The feeling welled up in the back of her throat and pealed across her tongue, and then her teeth snapped shut with a dulled click. Tavi had much to learn about this place and the man who controlled it, but understanding all that was said here would take time, and she would need to rest properly. Her eyes began to droop as she lay there, silent but trying to listen, and then she mumured: Thank you, Arkham, although she did not know what she was thanking him for at this point. His hospitality? Maybe his promise not to harm Reek. Maybe something more, but she did not say anything else - drifting off entirely, moments later.