Arrow Lake Carry all your thoughts across an open field

For @Stag. Whenever you have time <3

She hadn't been very pushy with any if her children, allowing them space when they needed it and offering them comfort whenever they sought it from her, but Stag's despondency continued to worry her. She finished her patrol, another distant shudder from the earth causing unease to trickle through her veins. 

She decided to seek out her oldest child, even if it meant she was dismissed. Her anxiety over him just would not be pushed aside today, and she took that as a sign that she needed to find him and check on him.

After some searching and a few dead ends, she found the freshest scent trail yet and began to follow it, hoping it would lead her to her worrisome son.

<3 thank you

Enough time had passed that Stag should have moved on, but this was not "Should-land", and Stag had yet to move on. Even the discomfiture of the earth did not rouse the despondent boy from his depression; to him it was just another "something-wrong" to tack onto the endless streams of "nothing's right".

Maybe the earth was repulsed by the body it had claimed; maybe, the Basilisk was nearing his second coming. Maybe his father was so great a soul, so precious a creature, that he was alloted a second chance -- and this reckoning was his judgment.

This hopeful thought passed just as quickly past Stag's whirling mind, soon buried underneath leagues of learned helplessness and hopelessness.

Not even Takiyok's arrival, nor the moving concern to her nothern gaze, stirred Stag. He acknowledged her presence with a dull pass of his shineless gaze, fixating on some point beyond her. Up until his mother had arrived, the boy had been staring into nothing, and moved not a whit save for the occasional tousle of wind beneath his alpine fur.

It killed her to see him this way. She felt helpless and completely out of her element. She didn't know what to say or do to bring him out of his concerning state. Stag, she said gently, moving to his side and settling down beside him. Sivullik, she murmured, nuzzling his cheek. I'm sorry you're hurting. She rested her head next to his, heart aching at the vacant look in his eyes. It was like he had given up. She understood the draw, really she did. So many days since Stigmata had passed, she wanted to do the same thing—just give up and run away or hide somewhere and let herself be completely consumed by her grief. It would certainly be easier than waking up every morning and fighting. But that wasn't something she could let herself do, and she wouldn't let her son do it either. But how could she convince him to fight when it was so much easier to give in? 

She nuzzled him again. Tell me what I can do. She would literally do anything he asked if it meant she could erase that look from his face.

<3

While Stag's author certainly felt a pained string of empathy for Takiyok, Stag did not. He was hurting -- and while grief was usually easily shared across a community, he was young and so, was selfish. This was his loss, and no one else understood. No, not even the woman who bore him into this world in union with his father.

He refused to meet Takiyok's gaze, out of both stubborness and the understanding if he dared look upon his mother, he would cry. His composure was pulled together by a thread, and no more -- he lacked the strength to look in his mother's eyes and withstand the sorrow he would see within them.

What could she do? Unless she could bring the dead back to the realm of living, there was nothing. Stag could not articulate this, for he also felt if he spoke, his voice would betray the crack of a sob that threatened to push through his throat. He had to be strong -- Stigmata would have likely skinned him alive to see his whelp of a son sobbing like some weak-spined slug. He had to carry on in his father's proud name, and not defile the strength it gave by crying.

Instead of a verbal answer, Stag shrugged -- all the while his gaze fixed infuriatingly elsewhere.

She tried really hard not be frustrated with him and his continued silence. It wasn't Stag she was really frustrated with anyway; she was angry with herself for being so inept at helping her children deal with their grief properly. It was her fault; she never dealt with her own emotions correctly, so how was she supposed to pull her son from his depression? 

She watched him silently for a few moments. Then, with a heavy sigh, she rested her head on her paws next to his. She was quiet for a while, listening to her son breathing, glad that he was at least still here. Maybe her presence would help him since nothing else she tried seemed to reach him. Eventually, she lifted her head and rested her gaze on his face again. Why don't you start helping me with patrols? she suggested. You won't have to talk if you don't want to. Maybe just getting him up and busy and part of a routine would help.

There was silence for a time; silence Stag had become accustomed to.

The mention of patrolling brought his gaze sliding reluctantly back to her; he wanted to be good and go on patrols, but what even was the point? His father had been killed by a beast within -- not without..

But the boy had no muster to rally a defense, or offer any sort of counterpoint. He rose to his feet with a shrug, glancing upon his mother timidly in a fashion that said okay, if you want to.

Finally, some kind of reaction from him. It was still heavy with his usual apathy, but she would take it. She got to her feet with a shake of her fur and dipped her head in acceptance. Follow me, she offered quietly before turning and heading to the borders. She didn't say anything as they made their way to the start of one of her usual routes; she decided she wouldn't push it just yet. She was just glad to have gotten him to agree to do something other than mope around. She stopped eventually to mark a tree that grew right on the edge of their territory; she marked the same tree every time she patrolled this expanse of their borders. After another of silence, she glanced down at Stag. It has been quiet lately, she offered for no reason other than to say something. Who would have ever known that her own son could make her feel so uncomfortable with silence, and make her try so hard at pleasing someone else. She didn't mind either, though, willing to do anything for her children; it was a loyalty she only offered to them. Not even the General, who she was devastatingly in love with, would get such degree of loyalty from her.

<3

Stag fell behind his mother mute, his attention absorbed by the sights they passed. He studied the trees and the dirt, the reeds and the stones -- he even sniffed cautiously as his mother marked a tree she visited frequently. All of this he watched, taking cues from his elder -- and someday he might apply the very same skills he learned today. 

But not now. A silence had spread between them, fathomless -- and Stag was no more equipped to break it than he was equipped to deal with his grief. He looked up as Takiyok finally spoke, his eyes somber but lips raised in a slight but scarcely felt smile. Yeah I guess. He didn't disagree -- things did seem quiet. No small wonder considering what they had lost. Far from talkative Stag halted by his dam's hocks, solemn gaze surveying the plains that stretched out beneath the wood line.

Her comment offered only to break the silence was met with vague agreement and then more silence. So, not quite the outcome she had hoped for, but she didn't blame him; she was having trouble dealing with everything, so she could only imagine how it was for him. She paused when he did, her gaze following his to look out over their claim. She let the quiet settle between them again, unsure what to say and unwilling to offer anymore pointless words or platitudes that probably wouldn't make him feel any better. But after a few moments she pointed out: This will all be yours one day. Maybe it would make him feel better to know that there was a still a life for him after such a tragedy. Your father wanted that for you, and so do I. One day she would be too old and tired to lead anything, and she hoped she would have plenty of strong, capable children to take over for her.

Stag didn't mind the silence that crept between them. He felt bad, even, for the way his mother seemed to struggle to break it. Stigmata's death wasn't her fault anymore than it was his, and the long and unbreakable quiet that yawned between them had been spawned by tremendous and unshakeable grief -- not a lack of community.

He looked up hopefully, meeting his dam's eyes for a moment as she spoke of all of this being his someday. Part of him wished that day would hasten, so he could show the world his mettle -- and a part of him, the more realistic side, recognized that day would come at a cost: likely his mother's ailing health. Looking to the ground, Stag shuffled for an answer. "Can't it be both of ours, forever?" He asked in that feeble hopelessness only a child could muster: why was the world so cold and cruel? Could it not be changed?

The question squeezed her heart, and she silently stared at him for a few moments. She wanted desperately to give him the answer that he wanted, to tell him that they would be here together forever. But as comforting as that might be for him right now while his father's death was still so fresh, she knew it would only do him more harm later when she inevitably could not keep that promise. But how to answer his question without hurting him more? She wasn't sure that was possible, and she wasn't going to lie to him. Stag, she started and then paused. I will be wherever you are for as long as you want me to be and for as long as I am able, she promised, an easy promise, really. But I will not live forever; that is the way of life, and there is nothing you or I can do about it. She stopped walked to face him fully, her expression resolute. But you can be sure I will never go down without exhausting every part of my being trying to survive. She would do whatever she could to keep from meeting an untimely death; of course, she knew she didn't really have much control over that in the end, but that didn't mean she wouldn't go down fighting.

Stag's eyes dropped as his mother turned around, facing him with inconsolable truth. He dared not look at the reality in her eyes -- for that meant, he would come face to face with a truth he was not yet ready to accept.

Takiyok's answer caused grave distress, though he hid it well by the tight line of his lips, which did not move despite the whimper that threatened to break past them. He didn't want to live in a world if his mama wasn't in it -- it wasn't fair.

"How come?" He finally forced from his tight throat, still looking at the ground with an unsteady gaze. How come she couldn't live for ever?

:(

His question wasn't surprising. It wasn't fair that one day he would have to learn how to live without her in his life, but it was just the way of things. Because no one can live forever, she answered patiently. I know it's hard to accept, but that is just how it is. She wished she could give him a different answer, but there was no other way to answer his question without making a promise she could not keep, which was out of the question. I'm sorry; I wish it was different, but no one escapes death, no matter how many loved ones they will leave behind. It certainly hadn't saved Stigmata from an untimely death and when her time came, she would also succumb. She wasn't sure he would understand right now, and she didn't blame him, but one day he would, and he would be grateful for the fact that she didn't offer him any lies just to make him feel better.

we need a happy thread LMAO

Stag didn't care for that answer. If he had his way, they would all live forever. She would live forever.

He fretted over this, worrying his lower lip with a crumpled frown. This wasn't a truth he was ready for -- it wasn't a burden he was willing to accept, yet it was shouldered upon him all the same. He had known, in the back of his head, that all of this was true -- for why else had his father been gored upon his homestead, and left them all? He knew his father would have done anything to stay among the living -- that Stigmata did not still roam this earth was a very sobering piece of evidence towards the theory death was inescapable.

"I hate it." Stag responded, and that was all he had to say further on the matter.

agreed!

She offered a brief nuzzle to his cheek. Me too, she replied, drawing back and looking down at him. She hated the worry she could see in his face. She hated that he had to deal with so much while he was still so young. No matter how hard she tried, there were just some things she would never be able to shield him from. 

Come on, she offered gently. There's much more left to patrol. She began to walk again, pausing only to look back and make sure he was following. If he was, then she would continue on. She would answer whatever questions he still had. Or maybe he would prefer to walk in silence; she would oblige him there, as well. Even in the wake of their heavy discussion, she couldn't help but feel grateful that at least he was still here to patrol with her. 

Last from me i think <3

<333

Stag's gaze fell to the dirt, and he busied himself with studying rocks. He made great show of tracing the shape of one such pebble, but the truth was, his head was angled to the ground so his mother would not the see the tears that seeped within his green gaze. He didn't want to live in a world where both his mother and father were gone: no matter how much she said that was just the nature of things, Stag didn't think it was fair.

He remained still as Takiyok rose, daring to lift his gaze once he was sure she was far enough away her sharp gaze wouldn't see the tears that wicked their way down his muzzle. Silently, Takiyok's little shadow pulled after -- ready to put his mind to some other, less sorrowful task.