Ravensblood Forest We're bound to break and my hands are tied.

She'd remained hidden away in the weeks following the end of her heat cycle, actively seeking a suitable denning area deep in the heart of their bleeding forest. It was a premature hunt, but a hopeful one - with the potential of new life growing within her own womb, Durnehviir wanted nothing more than to be prepared.

When her abdomen began to swell, she would catch herself gazing over the gentle curve of her belly and remind herself, every time, that the one thing she'd never dared to dream of had become a beautiful reality. Soon, the dragoness would welcome her brood into the world, but after a month of prowling the woods in search of the perfect hollow to prepare for their arrival, Durnehviir realised she would never find what her heart yearned for among the evergreens of Ravensblood.

It still, and always would, long for the territory she'd been born to - no matter how often she told herself otherwise.

Hungry to look out over the place where Durnehviir's own dam had bore her and her brothers, she braved the neighbouring mountains to reach its highest points and turned toward the Eastern sunrise to look out at the wetlands that lay beyond. The new season had returned life to the land that always thrived, and the russet Frostfur breathed deep the crisp morning air to close her eyes with the bittersweet memory of Paarthurnax' gentle, smiling face.

The thought of returning to Swiftcurrent did not leave her after that and, finally plucking up the courage to approach her swarthy leader, she trailed through the forest in search of him. The thought pained her, for Constantine loved his forest and had worked endlessly to secure it, but she could not keep her own desires from him. She appreciated and valued his own honestly when he'd shared with her his history in Donnelaith, so now was the time to trust him with her own.

His brows were furrowed as he stared out toward the direction of the sea, knowing that while the waves were hidden from his view currently in the thick trees, that the scent of the saltwater encased the sequoias with its own dominant presence. What had once felt like a vast opportunity for the wolves of the forest had quickly become encased – the coast had become popular over the last few months, and while he wasn’t sure of the exact number of packs that had settled, he wasn’t keen on scouting them out, either.
 
It might not have disturbed him only a month ago – but now, with Durnehviir pregnant with his pups, and the small number within their ranks becoming glaringly obvious to any that might wish to rid the forest wolves for potential hunting grounds, he felt less risk adverse than he had before.
 
Turning, the swarthy wolf swept through the forest, his features stoical as his nose flared, seeking the she-wolf who weighed heavily on his mind constantly. He trailed after her – it seemed she had moved a lot throughout the day. But finally his fiery eyes fell upon the flames of her own pelt, appreciatively studying the gentle swell of her belly and feeling a surge of something powerful – protective nature, certainly, but more – love? She captivated him, and he finally moved toward her once more, his paws silent on the forest floor, though he made no motion to hide his presence. He uttered a low crooning noise from the back of his throat, sidling up to the she-wolf, his nose trailing the side of her pregnant belly as he inhaled sharply. “Durnehviir,” he greeted, his eyes flicking up to meet hers.

Durnehviir paused to lap at the crisp waters of a small stream that flowed through their land, stopping to rest for a time before she would resume her search. While the pregnancy made her glow, it put great strain on her body - recently, she felt exhausted much sooner than she anticipated. It hadn't worried her much until now, as she considered the desire to uproot and relocate.

Relief flooded her when her pale eyes spotted Constantine's swarthy figure through the trees, and she waited for him to close the distance between them. He swept toward her, his muzzle outstretched to caress the gentle curve of her flank, and pride tugged the corners of her mouth upward in a smile. Her tail gave a few soft beats and she shifted enough to bump her snout affectionately to his own as he made to meet her gaze.

"I was hoping you'd find me," she crooned and lowered her haunches to ease her aching limbs, reminding herself of the reason she sought him but unwilling to ruin their moment of peace just yet. 

She settled herself – fatigue clear within her pale, beautiful eyes, and his features knitted in to a light frown. “How are you feeling?” Worry tugged at him once more – they were a small group, and they would soon have their time manipulated by raising a litter. He had witnessed it before – pups bore a great effort from a pack of wolves.
 
Moving his stocky form to settle close to her, so that they remained touching, the Regal swept his muzzle down to press a kiss to her forehead, his ears sliding back to his skull in his worry. He had a myriad of questions on his tongue – to ask her to be his and only his, to make an honest family for themselves.. To see what she thought of the number of neighbours along the coast. What their plans were for their unborn children.. Instead, he remained silent for now, waiting to see if she sought him for more than just his company.

She could sense the worry in his tone. Durnehviir exhaled a gentle sigh and sank heavily against her companion's frame, smoothing her pale cheek across the proud arch of his shoulder. "I'm fine," she assured him, and set about preening the bold guard hairs near her muzzle. Her pregnancy had been kind to her so far, and she was hopeful for a stressless delivery when the time came. "We are fine."

Constantine kissed her forehead and she lifted her head enough to blink up at him with dreamy champagne eyes. Silence enveloped them again and while they were often comfortable to share their time together without words, the niggling thought of Swiftcurrent urged her to interrupt the quiet.

"Constantine," the dragoness started softly, trying to maintain the calm and prevent his anxiety from overflowing, "are you happy here?"

The assurance she offered him only soothed him for so long – as she leaned against him, her gentle preening lulling him in to a sense of ease, another frown would storm his features as she questioned whether he was content here or not, and his brows lifted in mild surprise as his muzzle snapped back to study her, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea roil in his stomach.
 
Was she asking if he was happy here, in her embrace? Was she unhappy? Was she leaving him?
 
It took a lot to bring about such a strong surge of panic in the ebony wolf – his days after Donnelaith had burned had ensured that. But he tried to swallow it, inhaling sharply. “I’m happy with you,” he spoke, finally, and then steeled himself for what would come next. “Are you not happy?”

Her ears folded back regretfully as Constantine pulled back a little to look upon her with surprise. Durnehviir emitted a soft whine beneath his scrutiny and, trying to choose her words more carefully, she stared back at him with an almost pleading expression. "I am," she responded with some sense of urgency as she straightened herself, then looked down with discomfort at her dainty ivory paws.

"I just..." she lifted her head again, seeking to meet his eyes with her own, and offered a sheepish little smile. "I'm happy," she promised him in a softer tone, "but I mean are you happy here, in Ravensblood?"

His mouth felt dry – his stomach turned. She whined softly, and it was a noise that struck a chord in his heart as his own ears mirrored her own. Confusion remained written in his eyes as he tried to consider where she was going with this – and when she mentioned Ravensblood itself, he canted his muzzle, his tongue sweeping over his lips as he considered his words.
 
“I worry,” he relented, feeling a twitch of his lip as he felt he tread on dark waters now. “We’re starting a family, and our numbers are small. It doesn’t help that the scents around the coast have picked up. Others are settling here, and if they decide they want the forest as a means for hunting..” He trailed off, swallowing, and forcing his eyes to meet her pale champagne ones. “Durnehviir.. Are you leaving..?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to ask if she was leaving him – not when he already loathed the sense of urgency that had suddenly risen in him – not when he felt he had suddenly been blindsided and could lose everything.

Tension seeped into their previously peaceful little bubble, clouding their thoughts and rousing discomfort. Constantine mustered a response to her question, his concern hinting at the number of claims that had sprung up around them recently, before breaching a more delicate subject.

He asked if she was leaving.

Velvet ginger ears which had been tilted back in uncertainty were thrust forward then, surprise widening her eyes as she gawked up at the dark Regal. She studied his vivid eyes, then hurriedly shook her head. "No," she hastily told him, curling her tail supportively about his own. "But... I'm wondering if, with the coast being so crowded, we might be safer relocating further inland?"

Her home was wherever he was, and she would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked her to. But did he care enough for her to do the same?

It wasn’t until her tail grazed against his own – her soft words finally penetrating through with her true intentions that he released a breath; one he knew that was shaky, and yet he couldn’t care. “Durnehviir,” he murmured softly, his voice pausing as his eyes gathered to the sky, noting the tall trees and the winding branches above.
 
He tipped his muzzle down then, his nose pressing to the velvet softness of her cheek, taking comfort in her scent and presence. “Durnehviir.. I will take you wherever you want to go. Wherever you feel safe. Just.. be mine.” Because he was already hers – he had become so fully the moment they had begun to create a family together.

When Constantine murmured her name and exhaled a breath, Durnehviir let herself relax a little. She watched him quietly as he pointed his muzzle skyward and gazed out beyond the treetops, presumably pulling himself together after his little bout of anxiety, before he turned his attention on her again.

She smiled as he spoke to her, stating that he would take her anywhere that suited her, and her heart fluttered happily within her chest. What followed this did not even make her pause, and the russet Frostfur's expression bloomed into one of pure joy.

"I've been yours all along," she beamed, pressing herself snug against Constantine's side once more. 

They’re relationship had been driven by a force neither had seemed to understand, but he wasn’t willing to let it go. Relief at her words – and that her intention had not to leave him, simply the forest, he allowed his muscles to relax now. She leaned further in to him, and he remained silent for a moment, his muzzle swinging to preen gently at the thick fur of her neck – though would pull himself up quickly, remaining firm in his touch against her. His.
 
“You’ve thought about this for some time,” he guessed, his eyes drifting back to the forest. He was fond of their home – but not of the popularity the coast now heralded. He had chosen the forest purely to be close to the sea, to Donnelaith, and to thumb his nose figuratively at one of the old packs that had shadowed over the borders of his old home, as well. His home was not within the trees of the sequoia – it was at the side of the woman who remained nestled against him.

The relaxation seeped back into his muscles and while there was still much to be discussed, Durnehviir felt significantly more confident. Whatever they chose, she didn't mind the risk as long as they faced it together.

The swarthy Mayfair looked out over his bleeding forest, and the russet beauty twitched a whisker thoughtfully as she considered his words. "Since I realised we were going to be parents," she told him gently, "I've been looking for the perfect den, but haven't been able to find the right place. And I realised that I will never find that here."

She reached up and softly touched her nose to her partner's swarthy cheek. "Constantine, I... I want to go home, to Swiftcurrent Creek, and I want you with me."

Her words pulled a certain emotion within him – the mother of his unborn children, seeking a den in which to rest, and unable to find one that comforted her. His gaze continued to scan the bleeding trees of the forest, his ear giving an idle flicker as he considered how it could be seen as unwelcoming, in comparison to a home she ached for.
 
Swiftcurrent Creek wasn’t a place he had visited. He had spent a decent amount of his years chasing ghosts, and he could not help but believe Durnehviir was now opting to do the same – propelled by the hormones of her pregnancy, and the need to find a place that suited her for their home. He would not deny her, nor would he voice these thoughts aloud – instead, he gave a quiet nod, his tail lashing across the forest floor. “Can you travel?” If they were going to do this – if they were going to relocate their family and pack, they would surely need to do it soon.. or wait until the pups were old enough.
 
Pausing, the swarthy male nudged his mate, encouraging her to sprawl further out upon the cool ground of their current home as he stretched outward. He gave a gentle, rumbling hum before his tongue swept across his lips. “Ravensblood Forest.. and what it meant for me..” He paused then, determined to word this correctly. “It had meant a new beginning. A means of staying close to my family, and adopting different traditions not just from them but from my travels.” Tipping his muzzle, he moved to preen at the fire of her fur, smoothing his touch upon her. “But it doesn’t work well for us. Our pack should be ours – with the values and traditions we were raised with and will pass on to our children.”

Wanna fade here?

Her heart soared, and butterflies took flight in her belly as Constantine asked after her fitness - a question that secured her belief that a home in Swiftcurrent Creek was a strong possibility. She nodded enthusiastically before blinking up at the dark-furred leader, eyes bright with excited anticipation.

Ravensblood had served them well, but in her pregnant state she'd grown wary of the recent claims on neighbouring territories. Their numbers were low and they were in no position to defend themselves should the others decide to eradicate them for the sake of freeing up new hunting land. It would be sad to see that chapter come to an end, but Durnehviir was so looking forward to the next.

"We'll call the others when you are ready and figure it out together," she promised, outstretching her forelimbs to dip the tips of her pale toes into the running water of the stream. She watched it quietly then, allowing herself to breathe again, and look forward to the far better future ahead of them.