Whitefish River and here we go, life's waiting to begin

backdated to around the 19th!

He stops in the middle of trailing a fresh prey scent, frustrated with how distracting his thoughts have become over the last two days. He can't stop thinking about the heat scent lurking past the borders of the nearby pack he'd stumbled on (and promptly fled from) — but he is plagued by different thoughts than most. The scent awakened something different in him, something rooted in instinct yet diluted by his own nature, and dots had started connecting.
He's never paid much attention to how things like heat and children work, though he's been exposed to them in passing throughout his life; as far as he's concerned, it simply happens, and then pups happen. Somehow. It hadn't mattered before, but it does now. Now, it's all he can think about, though it hadn't been his first thought when he caught the scent on the breeze. His first thought had been of @Evergreen, of their play that had ended so wonderfully not long ago. Thoughts of children had come later, unbidden, a sudden assault as he'd stepped across the borders. His case of baby fever hasn't faded since then, but there are too many feelings surrounding it for him to decide how he feels about it. After all, his own childhood had been a disaster; what if he brings the same to his children? What if he dies like his father did, and leaves them alone? And what about Evergreen? He doesn't even know if his partner wants children; and how does he even know that he does, for sure, after two days of thought? The questions seem endless.
He shakes his head and sighs, deciding there's only one thing to be done. He turns to find Evergreen, hoping a conversation will bring him some clarity, even if he doesn't feel ready at all.

Ever since they’d returned, Evergreen has been giddy—though disheartened in areas that remained a total disaster zone—and fishing with every opportunity. It is where Winterbourne ends up finding him, on his favorite bank with his legs dipped into the water, pouncing on yet another unsuspecting victim. Spring is great.
At first, Evergreen doesn’t notice his husband’s approach. He’s got his head underwater, wrestling with a trout. He wins, eventually, and pulls back his head with a victory grin. It is then, when he turns towards the shore that he spots Winterbourne there. His round ears perk forth, and his tail starts to wag immediately.
He approaches, setting the fish at his feet when he gets to him, and greets Winterbourne with a brush of his cheek to his mate’s.

He's not surprised to find his mate fishing. The sight brings a smile to his face despite his nervousness, and he's charmed enough by it to not mind when Evergreen gets his face wet with a brush of his cheek. Good catch, He compliments, voice warm. He leans forward to groom the wetness away from his broad muzzle, quickly working his way over most of his face just to keep him from dripping everywhere while they talk. When he finishes, he pulls back with a slightly more serious expression. There's uh... something I want to talk to you about. Nothing bad, but maybe a little weird because it's... sudden. He sucks in a breath after he finishes, briefly trying to continue, but he finds he's too nervous to keep talking without a little prompting.

Thank you, he whispers—quiet for Eve who is usually enthusiastic about the sport, yet the moment seems private, as if only he and Winterbourne are in this realm right now. The gentle grooming of his mate has him relaxing further, leaning and humming into the touch. He noses when he can, and gives him a kiss.
Yet the shift worries him, even with the reassurance that it isn’t anything bad, Eve is puzzled. Uh, he pauses, What’s up?

His nerves are soothed slightly by Evergreen's response to his touch, but the next words are still hard to get out. Have you ever um, thought about children? Embarrassment immediately warms his face at how odd it sounds to him, but it's out now, so he continues. It's a lot more talking than he's used to; by the time he finishes, his voice is already starting to fade a little. It's been on my mind for a couple days — I um... there was someone in heat nearby when I went out hunting, and by the time I got back home, I started thinking about... raising a family. But I realized I don't know if that's what you want, or if we're ready.

Evergreen tilts his head to the side, round ears pointing towards his mate with a puzzled expression pinching the curves of his face. A relationship had seemed impossible to him—parts of it still do—let alone becoming a father of sorts. Maybe adoption seemed possible, or being that extra figure for the pups of Kaistleoki but…
Winterbourne goes on. I… uh, never thought much about it. I mean, the goal with Kaistleoki was sorta to, uh, make a family at first—after I lost Thistle it was… well, lonely. I guess that would have been the more logical step, he chuckles, I… I wouldn’t mind raising a family with you. How, he isn’t certain of yet, but as scared as he is about it—what if they hate him, what if he messes up—the idea warms his heart.

As Evergreen speaks, Winterbourne finds many of his anxieties melting away; it sounds possible coming from his mate, less like the half-formed pipe dream of a lonely man from a broken home and more like something they might actually be able to have, and maybe get right. He can't help smiling when Evergreen finishes, heart skipping a little as his last words fully register. Really? I — The words die in his throat, eyes suddenly shining with unshed tears. His gaze drops for a half-beat, embarrassed, but it doesn't do anything to weaken the positive emotions he's feeling right now.
I think raising a family with you would be perfect. We need... someone to help, though, since... Since we're both guys, he almost says, but there's still a lingering feeling of weirdness there. It doesn't bother him, exactly, but he doesn't like to point it out more than necessary; habit, leftover from his fears of being seen as different. He is different in more ways than one, and he's come to accept it, but that doesn't mean he'll ever be comfortable putting his differences on display, even with Evergreen.

It is so sweet to see the emotion coming off Winterbourne—after their encounter with Dawn (and Winterbourne choosing him), he’d wanted nothing more than to do something… to give him the family he deserved. It seems like this would be the perfect, wholesome way. He wags his tail, leaning in to kiss over one eye.
Oh, uh, yeah, he says, having not thought much on that at first. The first person that comes to mind is admittedly Speedy, but he knows there is something going on with her and Emrik. The last thing he wants is to open a gap between the two, especially since Speedy deserves so much happiness and more after all that’s happened to her.
Hm… I, I, uh, am not familiar with the other new members, not to the point where he’d feel comfortable sharing parenting over. Speedy has Emrik, and… well, I don’t know if she’d be interested, but… maybe Ira…? He suggests lightly, worried about his wording and that Winterbourne may disapprove.

The kiss makes him more emotional, but he manages to keep it together, at least enough to pay attention to Evergreen's suggestion. Ira? He questions, thinking back to his sole individual interaction with the current Count. She'd seemed nice enough, knowledgeable and straight to the point. He doesn't know her well, but that first impression had been a good one, and he knows Evergreen trusts her. I don't really know her, but I spoke to her about the bison and I think it went well. You're close to her, right? What's she like?

He nods his head, shifting nervously, but it seems that the silver takes it well. Winterbourne had helped rescue them both from the cave, too, with Tobias, but he doesn’t know how much the Squire talked with her.
Yeah, she’s, uh, a good friend. We met back in Easthollow, and we became friends there. She was one of the people that helped me with Thistle’s loss, too, and uh, when I wanted to make Kaistleoki, Ira was willing to come help. She’s very work oriented and comes across cold, but I swear she’s a good person! She takes good care of the pack, and I think she’d… be a good fit, if she’s interested. An anchor compared to the two of them, who let their emotions lead, she knew how to be steady and stern at the right times.

He listens closely, nodding slightly when he mentions that she takes good care of the pack. Leading them through such difficult times without Evergreen's help can't have been an easy task, but she'd done it smoothly, and now she's gotten them back home. Someone as dependable as that would surely make a good mother, too, he thinks — and if his mate likes her, he's sure he will too. Maybe we can um, talk to her about it now, then, He offers softly, hoping he isn't moving too fast.

Winterbourne approves, and that is enough for a sigh of relief to escape his lips. A broad grin returning to his features despite Evergreen still being nervous about it. Ira could deny them pups in general, but she could also reject the idea of being their mother as well.
They would get nowhere if they didn’t try, however, and he knows that if they sit on it too long, he would begin to overthink it. So he nods in agreement with his mate and calls for @Ira to join them.

The Count had been making her rounds when the call sounded. It wasn't often she was called these days as she was usually already on the borders, not to mention things have been quiet for a while now. Happy to do something other than stare at the empty field, Ira made her way to the boys, although the confusion was clear when she saw no danger or real need for her to be present. Is there something you need?

Both of them are obviously out of their element here. He gives Winterbourne a glance and reassuring smile—trying to seem more at ease than he is about this. Ira doesn’t make them wait long either, she shows and Evergreen soon finds himself tongue tied.
How does he even approach this!!
Uh, yeah, he starts off, dumbly, and wasting a moment to get his thoughts in line. We… Winterbourne and I were talking and, uhm, we’re interested in… having pups this year, if… if that is something you are willing to… uh, approve of. Might as well get step one out of the way first.

Ah...right. The Count grew stone-faced as she stood in her spot and held her tongue. Of course she should have seen this coming, the two were together now. She had eyes after all, she was not oblivious. Now that she was the sole leader pairs would be seeking her approval. A same-sex pairing was strongly frowned upon where she grew up, but that was personal it wouldn't be right to force that here even if she disagreed with the pairing.

Initially, this was Evergreen's pack, denying him felt wrong, but there was still one problem. You two have done enough for the pack, I can't say you haven't earned that right... But they can't have pups. Of course, I'm sure you two see the main flaw here? Gods forbid she has to explain to these two grown men. If they wish to father a family they will need a woman involved.

This he assumes is the easier of two steps, one that he expects to get more or less immediate approval of. There is tension, however, and it is noticed not only by the Knight but his mate as well, who grows tense with it. Evergreen furrows his eyebrows, lips dipping a touch in disapproval of Ira’s reaction—why she is coming across this way is… unknown, awkward, in ways.
Uhm, yes, we are well aware, he continues, We discussed who we’d be interested in… asking about becoming a parent alongside us. We… We would like that person to be you, Ira, if… if you are interested.

There was a long pause as the Count processed his words. For a moment she thought she misheard, but both had their eyes trained on her. Is that a joke? The thought slipped out before she could catch herself. It was too late now, the mask Ira rebuilt was starting to crumble once more for the bear. Surely he knew? Ira found herself clenching her teeth. Was this just to rub it in? No, even now Evergreen would never do that.

If that was true then why? She had to swallow hard as she tried to keep what was left of herself composed, There's bound to be someone better. Better than the person who still can't help but think of a taken man. She had spiraled the first time, picked up the pieces and rebuilt herself. There was a reason she never formed relationships. Never again. That's what she had promised last time. She wouldn't spiral again.

A joke? Bewilderment crosses his features, unable to help the slight prickle of fur along his spine. I wouldn't joke about something like this... He doesn't understand why Ira thinks he would. Maybe this had been a mistake, but he is determined to get a clear answer if only because he knows the roan warrior—this isn't like her, something is up. Does she... believe she won't make a good mother? Is there a reason why she has never settled down? The bear ought to have paid closer attention to her, and he begins to regret the distance that's grown between them.
You're... You're my best friend, Ira, and I trust you. I think, we both think—he glances towards Winterbourne—that you'd make a good mother.

For once the Count felt the urge to run, but her paws seemed to be rooted to the spot where she stood. The bear could be oblivious, but she never thought this much so. Had he really not been aware this whole time? Or was he just never interested? The tears started before Evergreen even finished, each word stinging more than the last.

He didn't know, how did he not know? She practically confessed once before and he turned her down, but he really was going to make her spell it out. By now Winterbourne's presence had been forgotten, something the Count would regret later. I loved you! Maybe she still did...she didn't want to be his best friend, that's just the role she was forced into.

Ira wasn't worried about being a mother, she's been around pups before. She loves them, but that was the problem. She couldn't be a donor for them when she'd be so attached.

Stunned into silence, Evergreen’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. He slouches, looking as tiny as a man of his giantic size could—with round ears swerved back. His face overall looks to be slapped. The shock of the situation and her words takes him by surprise. He’d thought—
He thought a lot of things. At first, he’d hoped that Ira had been interested in him. Their relationship meant a lot, and she’d been the first source of stability in his life since Thistle exited it. Yet over time, the crush he had on her had been, well,  crushed. The day she took as him rejecting her was the day he thought she squashed his chances.
And then he got to know Winterbourne, and his life changed, his feelings grew—an uncontrollable garden that bloomed so tight in his chest that he thought he couldn’t breathe at points. A love impossible to drown, and a love that turned to be mutual.
He never thought he would ever be deserving of a relationship. Never thought anyone would love him, let alone two amazing people that have been important in his life.
Ira—Ira, I’m sorry, he whines. He feels like the most terrible, bad, awful person. A Grade-A Asshole. If he knew, if he wasn’t so stupid and didn’t live in his own bubble and ignore what he didn’t want to believe, he wouldn’t have ever dared to ask this of her.
I… I didn’t know. I thought…. I thought that day meant you couldn’t ever—ever see yourself with someone like me. That you thought it was absurd, but I was just… stupid huh. His gaze sinks. He doesn’t know what he could do to make this better—to fix the huge gaping wound that thrives in their hearts, and he knows Winterbourne has to witness this all—the breaking of the dams. Yet he wouldn’t have it without him, for if he wasn’t there to be a support that Evergreen could lean on, then he would have likely been unable to cough out any words at all.
I’m sorry… I—sniff—I wouldn’t have dared to ask that of you if I knew, I promise—sniff. I wouldn’t do that to either of you, he pauses, glancing at Winterbourne who he now fears he could lose too. He feels like he’s losing both of them in ways. Though he knew that he’s always been more deserving of being alone. Kaistleoki had been a fairy tale he wanted to believe, and Ira kept that alive for him, but he knew it had been close to crumbling. It could tomorrow.
I don’t… know if anything I say would make it better. I care about you, Ira, I really do. I love you, but not… not like that. And there, the bomb. He knows it’ll hurt, and it hurts so bad to say. Because if the world was better  he could love them both and they could all be happy, but the world isn’t. It is cruel. It murders those you love. It rips families apart. It sets barriers and expectations for the impossible. And it hurts. All they can do is bleed out.

He'd started feeling out of place here from the moment Ira responded to Evergreen's proposal of sharing parenthood with her, but the feeling doesn't really sink in until Ira's outburst registers. His jaw clenches, throat tightening with sudden nausea. She loved him — loves him, probably. It makes sense; they have a history together, they'd led a pack together, they would be a normal and expected couple by anyone's standards. Ira would be able to give Evergreen children without needing to involve another person, and no one would ever give them strange looks, or think of them as different. It'd be the sort of life Winterbourne's parents had, the sort that Evergreen probably deserves. Something normal.
Except he's in the way — and what does he have to offer, aside from problems and heartbreak like this? If Ira's answer is no, they'll need to find someone they may not be able to trust as much, or else miss their opportunity entirely. And Evergreen had called her his best friend; Winterbourne can't imagine being worth a rift between them... and he can't help thinking Evergreen would be better off with someone who knows him better. Someone who has been around longer, and can give him the kind of life he deserves. He says he doesn't love Ira like that, but what if he had wanted it before — what if he has regrets now? The thought makes it hard to breathe.
He steps back — one step, then two, shaky and uncertain. Unlike Ira, he has run before, and he still remembers how; running from Evergreen would be a first, though, and one he knows he won't try. He doesn't belong in this situation, he shouldn't be hearing this conversation, but he can't imagine abandoning his mate now. Even if Evergreen should realize how much better off he'd be with the Count, Winterbourne will always be there to support him, to encourage the things that make him happy; that's all he'd ever wanted in the first place. Not... this.

No. No no no no no, she didn't want to hear this. She didn't need to be told of what could have been. Maybe it was actually her, not Eve. Her limitation with social contact had been her downfall after years of avoiding what would eventually come. Heartache. It was why she was so distant, it was all a waste of time, of energy, of her heart. It was now that she realized the tears that had been falling from her own eyes.

The roan warrior's throat felt swollen with a lump she just couldn't swallow. Frustrated with herself she finally moved, rubbing at her eyes to break the streams. Then it finally hit. He didn't love her, not that way. I know. She didn't need to be told, it had been plain for all to see for a while now. It was obvious when he chose Winterbourne— Oh no.

Golden eyes flicked to the other male who had been there the whole time, he had seen everything. The lump in her throat turned into a pit that settled in her stomach. The shock that had settled was plain to see, her mask long since broken now. Winterbourne hadn't said anything, what could he say? Even if she was upset, even if Evergreen would never be hers or if she didn't agree with their mating, it made Evergreen happy. He made him happy... that's all she could really ask for. If she had come between them—

Ira's ears fell back, pinning against her skull, I'm sorry— She didn't belong here. She was never meant to get her fantasy. The Count started stepping back, single-handedly she would destroy them. There was nothing she could do to fix the damage now, except maybe give them what they wanted. Though now, surely they wouldn't even want her. How could they? Although if she could give them a family and left them alone, maybe then it would fix her deed. I can give you what you seek. Please forget what I have said.

He breaks further, allowing the tears to spill down his cheeks at the sight of Ira’s—it is so heartbreaking. How awful a person he’d been to her, and he couldn’t do anything—couldn’t beg for forgiveness when it wasn’t deserved. She’s done so much for him, and all he did was break her heart and spit in the wound.
No! He rushes out, a cry on his lips. Evergreen wanted that more than anything, but he knows it is wrong, knows she is sacrificing herself again and he can’t let that happen. Ira, please. I don’t… I wanted that, and still do, but your feelings matter more—I don’t… I don’t want you to sacrifice more for me, for us.
It’s… It’s unfair, a-and I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable.

The Count shook her head as Evergreen quickly tried to pick up the pieces, It's fine, really. I want you to be happy. Even if it didn't involve her, that's all that mattered. She would move on, he would get a family. It would end well, right? She always knew from the start that she would never live that life, it was foolish of her to try. I don't belong here, we were never an equation, but you did find an answer. He's your answer and that's ok. Ira could always rebuild again, it was one of the few things she was good at.

The rowan woman sighed glancing at the ground, You deserve a family, Eve. Thanks for being my friend, it's more than I've ever had... With that Ira would turn to leave. She had never been great with words in situations like these, the last thing she wanted to do was make things worse than they already were.

It scares him the longer this interaction goes on, and his heart rips asunder a moment later; “I don’t belong here.” He’d always worried that Ira wouldn’t have found Kaistleoki to be home, maybe Easthollow has always called to her. But to hear that she thinks she doesn’t belong here further stabs him. He sinks, unable to argue further, and unable to say anything as Ira turns to walk away from them.
Her ending note is a fissure—a canyon. It feels like a goodbye.
He turns to Winterbourne, watery mismatched green eyes searching him. For what, he doesn’t know. I’m sorry, he says so softly, and finally lets loose. A sob echoes much too loud, and he is embarrassed but cannot stop the tears from falling.