Ankyra Sound won’t you stay inside?

family thread <3 @Velen @Fletcher

by now, dalia felt pretty settled among the grotto. she hadn’t met everyone… but she’d met illidan — rosalyn. she felt that that was a good start. today she hoped to spend the day with her mate and children… or at least part of it, and not like she really had a choice. the two pups were far to young to be left by themselves. 

she curled around the babies, listening to the sounds of the ocean and waiting for velen to come home. this place was different, sure, and it was strange to by back at the sound… dalia had spent countless hours here growing up collecting sea glass and shells. it reminded her of portia, which made her a little sad. quietly, the new mother gave her pups soft kisses, humming gently.

intent on making himself useful, velen had fallen into his usual routine of patrolling the shoreline as he had done in stormrift. 
the thought of his former pack and how it had disintegrated grieved velen, and he thought of his brothers.
it was with a mournful heart that the chesnut-eyed fighter arrived upon the new densite laden with delicate flesh pulled from clamshells.
”hey, babe,” he purled. setting his burden down near dalia. ”brought you lunch.”

as velen blocked the entrance to the den momentarily, dalia turned to get a better look, eyes adjusting at the bright light that poured around his figure. she'd recognize that shadow anywhere, and her tail beat against the earth as he entered, announcing he brought lunch. my knight in shining armor, she purred, reaching to give her mate a kiss, thank you.

as he settled, she reached to grab one of the fleshy things, content she could eat this morning... not that she was starving, anyway, but it was something to [i]do/[i]. as much as she found that she loved hr babies, she did find herself to be a little stir crazy... ugh. anyway. 

we should name them, said dalia as she looked upon her mate, i've been a little... worried... that they wouldn't make it, i didn't want to jinx it... but look at them, velen, they're healthy as can be.

velen wondered if dalia found her time inside the den a relief, or stifling. he imagined it was a bit of both; tied as she was, his mate could not readily leave their children, but there was a safety within the close confines of the milk-scented space. "they are," he murmured, tail thumping on the ground behind him as he sniffed over their small bodies.
he hadn't wanted to admit it, but velen too had been fearful for their safety, terrified that they would die as soon as the small family had settled in rusalka. but they had not; the pups had gone on to thrive, and even dalia looked better despite the ordeal they had all undergone. "you wanted to name her after your mom, yeah?" he murmured, glancing back to her delicate features.

she started, then hesitated, then  shook her head. i had... oh, i really did -- but that first pup.. with the grey patches. it looked just like my mother, and... i don't know. i don't think it's the right name for these two, she told him with a frown, her gaze falling back down to the children. my mothers maiden name is within my own now, i think that is enough to honor her.

she was quiet for a moment, and then looked back up with a delicate smile. i wanted to name them after the ocean instead, she said, her own tail tip-tapping, i've been thinking, for the boy, fletcher shoal... mayfair. the last part, she did not add lightly, a little twinkle in her eyes.

she could have chosen anything; she could have suggested that the little ones be called jerry and the bitchin’ sandpipers, and velen would have kept the same slightly sappy look on his face as he wore now.
but at the mention of mayfair, velen blinked, air driven from his throat in a sharp intake as he looked abruptly to dalia. her eyes shone, and his throat tightened, lips curving into a tearful smile as he looked down at his children — the smallest mayfairs.

at velen's response -- one that pulled a chord of her heart that only he could pull -- dalia felt herself flush. she might've cried herself, but she was almost too pleased with the moment to do so. perhaps later, when she thought back on it. instead, her throat rumbled a wolfish purr -- a sound her mother used to make all too often -- and reached a forelimb to hook around his neck, pulling his forehead down to meet her own crown.

you cornball, she teased lovingly, her tail wagging as she pulled apart, gaze upon him bight. you name the little girl -- after the ocean, she said, phrased as a command but sounded kinder than such.

charmed by the idea that these children would also belong to the sea, as did himself and dalia, velen composed himself with an answering thump of his own tail and gazed fondly at the little blob that was their daughter.
”i like amora,” he whispered after a time. ”it ... reminds me of the sea, i guess,” coral, saltwater. ”fletcher and amora,” he murmured. ”she needs a middle name, though.”