Stone Circle let nothing go to waste

It was still cold out, and though a lot of the worst seemed to have passed, Day had a bad feeling about the dark clouds gathering in the distance. They'd weathered much of the storm in the stone den that Steady had found, but they couldn't spend the whole winter in there, and there were a few new members he wanted to check in with before anymore inclimate weather found its way to the territory.

Standing beside Chaska's old den, Day lifted his head and howled for @Selkie and @Akuti.

Akuti hurried to the call as quickly as she could, though the snow reached up her limbs making it much harder for her to traverse the territory. Once she did make it to the larger brute who'd sounded the call, she took her steps with a bit more of a confident attitude. Her tiny bob tail stood straight up, not that it would've caught anyone's attention, seeing how short it was. Hello, she said in greeting. Akuti was much smaller than the male in question, though her ego made her feel as though they sized each other nicely. I'm Akuti. You are?

His call was answered, before long, by the tiny creature he'd seen roaming around the territory earlier that day. At the time, he'd almost mistaken her for a fox - she was lucky he'd caught her scent before trying to hunt her.

"Grayday," he replied, ears flickering as he briefly misheard the name she spoke: A cutie? No, Akuti. Pushing his silliness away, Day went on: "Have you found yourself a den, yet?" he asked, thinking it might be unlikely. The ground was too hard and cold to dig them, and the dens that they did have were all either taken or inadequte, except for this one. It still smelled full, as Chaska and Mirabelle had only recently run off, but Day was trying to forget about that. Filling this empty space might help.

Akuti's ears spun atop her head as she tracked both Day's words and the distant calls of an avian flock. She'd been keeping track of the prey animals, both alive and perished, and hadn't had much time to look for a den. It was freezing too, so it was unlikely that her efforts alone would've done enough damage to the ground for a den-sized space to be filled up. I haven't, no. Akuti gestured with her chin toward the empty den Day stood beside and lifted her brow curiously. This one's taken, huh? Scents still lingered around the entrance, and none of them were akin to Grayday's.

Ah, of course not. There was always something else to do - no one had time for digging in the middle of winter. It was one of the reasons he'd been so worried for Adeline. One of the many, many reasons.

"No, this one's empty," Day corrected, turning his head to study it. "It should be big enough for you and another - I hope you don't mind sharing. There's a few more new recruits, so one might need to bunk with you, if she hasn't found a place for herself already."

He could've introduced her to Krypton or Mara Susi and asked one of them to give her shelter, but Day counted on them to watch his kids, and he wasn't sure he could trust Akuti (or Selkie) around his kids just yet.

Ah, that's alright, Akuti assured him, flashing Day a kind and gracious smile, I don't mind sharing. You grow up in a family as big as mine and it becomes second nature. She poked her head around the corner and took in the den's atmosphere, checking it out and seeing what exactly it held. Who's the other one? If she had to share a den with someone else, she'd rather know who it was. Maybe then they could meet on their own accord and get used to one another before they had to commit to living with one another (not that either femme had a choice in the matter; the winter had taken away the liberty of sleeping under the stars). She could feel her (slightly less) swollen teats begin to leak, and she quickly shuffled inside of the den where she would be able to lay against the ground, away from anyone's judgement. Thank you, Grayday.

Day's nose twitched as the woman went and laid down, a familiar milk-scent whooshing over his face. It sent a harsh pang through his chest, but he merely shook it off, sending it flying from him like the dust off his pelt. He didn't feel like thinking about Amber, even though the rest of the world was intent on sending him reminders.

"Her name's Selkie," Day replied, thinking back to the conversation he'd observed between her and Steady. He didn't know if the woman would be sticking around, and honestly, he didn't really care. But as long as she was pack, Day was obliged to care for her, and that meant making sure she didn't freeze to death. "I don't know if she's found a place yet. Maybe you could ask her." He wasn't going to track her down. He would, however, wait here a bit longer to see if she showed up. "What's your family like?" Day asked, partially to be polite and partially because he was curious about the milk-scent. He wouldn't ask directly (it was probably a sad story), but he did want to know.

Selkie, Akuti repeated, Nice name. She smiled up at Grayday with a friendly glint in her eye, as the chap seemed to be of good company. He wasn't half bad at keeping up a conversation either, and for that, Akuti was grateful. Well my dad was a deserter, so I grew up with my mom and her other seven children; three from the first litter, five from the second, counting me. Akuti paused for a moment and reminisced on the happy times she'd had as a child, all the shenanigans she and her siblings managed to get into. Two of my sisters and I were given away to my first husband, which led to my first litter not too long after. Akuti then thought of her children, the squirming beans and their little squeaks. I had to leave home, so my eldest sister has them now. It couldn't have even been a month ago since I left, but apparently not all of me has gotten the memo yet. Akuti wasn't dumb, and she knew Grayday could smell the thick aromas of motherhood which surrounded her, so she figured it best to address the elephant in the room rather than allowing it to romp around carefree.

It was a weird story. Day didn't really know how to respond to the information, but his sorrow for her far-away pups helped to counteract the automatic arousal he felt whenever another whiff of the milk-scent reached his nose. It wasn't anything about Akuti in particular - it was just that heat-purity-strength scent of motherhood that'd always gotten to him while Amber was pregnant, and then even moreso afterward, when he'd watch her care for their young.

These thoughts were wistful, but not pressing as he contemplated her story, trying to find the right way to respond.

"That sounds rough," he said eventually. And, because he was a father - "Do you miss them?"

Akuti's smile faded only slightly when he asked about her own feelings on the matter.

Do you miss them?

Every single day. If she could've stayed, she would've, without a doubt. But things didn't always work out the way one wished they would, and she knew that Pihu was doing a better job at raising the children than Akuti ever could. Do you have any? She desperately wanted to get off of the topic of her youngsters left behind, and she realized that throughout their conversation, Day hadn't told her much about himself at all. Tell me; kids? Wife? Husband? It seemed important to add; Akuti didn't want to get her hopes up for a lost cause.

Yeah. He'd thought so. Day made a soft, sympahtic sound under his breath, but beyond that he didn't really have anything else to say. Thankfully, she steered the conversation along, and Day was always glad for an excuse to talk about his kids.

"Yeah, kids. A boy and a girl," he revealed, clinging to the subject. "My little girl's name is Dawn, and my boy's called Sunny. They look just like me."

His ears flickered as he finally digested the last word, and for propriety's sake, he shot her a stern look. No husband, he thought to himself, a little confused by the notion. But it was just a word, and Day didn't see any reason to comment on it.

He didn't seem to keen on answering the relationship question, which would've shot up a red flag i Akuti's mind, had he not told her about his two children. I like those names. Akuti was eager to meet the children, though she knew that Grayday probably wasn't too excited to introduce them to just any stranger. At least, she knew she wouldn't have been. They look like you, huh? Must be pretty cute then. How old are they? She was trying to be discreet with her flirtations, but she was a bold woman by nature and couldn't help but sneak her comment in.

My wife picked them. It was on the tip of his tongue, but Day held it back. Amber was not a secert - he'd never meant her to be, at least - but he didn't want to talk about her, either. If she wanted the story, she'd have to get it from someone else. "Yeah, me too," he replied, belatedly. "They're two months, now. Sunny's a little bigger, and he likes to explore a lot more. Dawn normally sticks by me or one of her aunts."

In his joy over talking about his children, he missed the flirtatious comment entirely. His mind had skipped right from They look like you to pretty cute, drawing no connection between the two statements. Yes, they looked like him, and duh, of course they were cute.

So far, all Akuti could tell was that when it came to flirtation, Day was thick as a brick. She sighed inwardly from both frustration and boredom. Maybe I'll see him wandering around then, who knows. Akuti added a small laugh for good measure, then cocked her head slightly to the side to give Day's physique a proper look over. I can count on seeing you around too, right? She wanted to know more about the mysterious male; where he came from, where he planned on going. Akuti lifted herself to a seated position, her legs barred in front of her. You're not half bad, you know? I can appreciate a sweet looker with a knack for conversation. She gave him a playful wink and a wide grin, then looked down at her paws.

Day made a sound under his breath - maybe agreement, maybe exasperation. She probably would see his little wanderer. Hopefully, she would intervene if he found himself in mortal danger.

Automatically, his eyes flicked downward when the woman sat up. Now that he knew she was lactating, he was ridiculously aware of her. Luckily, her legs were blocking anything that might've been distracting, and he was able to look back at her face without too much embarrassment or delay. His ears twisted backward as she went on, almost as if checking to see if she was talking to someone else. Maybe just to see if they were really alone.

"Count on it," he replied with a toothy grin, finally settling his rump in the snow outside her new den. His own legs barred nothing. "But you just caught me at a good time. I'm not the best conversationalist," he went on, allowing her compliment on his looks to slide, but unable to help correcting her about his interpersonal skills. She'd learn, in time.

Akuti watched Day changed his posture to match her own, though even sitting down he towered over her. She couldn't help but glance at his show, mainly out of curiousity if nothing else. Well, she began, it's a good thing that there are other things to do outside of talking. She was glad that he seemed to be catching onto her hints, though she was trying to step carefully so as to not over do it. Even if you aren't that great, everyone can learn. Here is where Akuti got pretty bold. A coy lilt was added to the back of her words, though she was quick to dismiss any further commentary between the two — If you don't mind though, I'm a bit tired.

A soft hum of agreement was his only reply to that. If he'd wondered where she was getting before, that uncertainty had ended pretty quickly. Now, his gaze was appraising as he waited for her next move. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to get caught up in whatever she was thinking, but Day saw no harm in flirting. Especially not when she smelled so nice.

But it seemed like Akuti was in a similiar place, where flirting was fine but anything more would get complicated, and Day found that he wasn't too disappointed to be dismissed. "Ma'am," he said in lieu of goodbyes, dipping his head toward her as he stood. With one last, fond wave of his tail, Day left the woman to her own devices. He'd left his little devils alone for far too long, anyway.