Shadewood Bedraggled

Vorilye's wounds had been treated by Lane, and while he was not fully healed, he was much better off, though he was disheveled and wan. He'd been gone from the shadewood for days, but now he reentered the shadows of the trees, exhaling slowly; Vex hadn't followed him, he had been sure of that. He took his time, carefully winding his way towards his den — it was very near to @Themis' whelping den, and he pondered whether or not he would find her here now.

Vorilye had been gone for a minute.

Her children were growing more independent, so she left them for a moment with Ouranios, and set out in search of one of her wayward baby daddies.

The slender Vasiliás was beside his den when the man arrived, and stood immediately, ears pressed forward, worry on her face.

Vorilye?

Dear gods, what had occurred while she had been holed up in her whelping den?

He was sure he looked a mess, with dried blood on his neck, bearing puncture marks there, and a wicked gash along his side. He saw the worry on her face, and for a moment, he thought to lie — to protect her. Vorilye didn't want to tell her that Vex had found him... that now they were potentially all at risk. He sighed heavily, shoulders drooping in defeat. Quietly, he admitted, "Vex found me, up at the plateau. I don't know why she left me alive." He would then await her words — words he expected to be harsh, condemning; in truth, he expected a Vex response, because that was all he'd ever known. He only hoped it wouldn't be so.

Themis was quiet, for a time.

Vex had found Vorilye. She had given him a warning. Themis had felt enough of those in her lifetime, so much that she subconsciously moved her scarred back limb closer to herself.

They were so small to be undergoing this. The Shadewood was confusing to outsiders, sure, but get a big enough force and you could smoke out a rat from any place. She let her eyes lapsed closed, drawing in a deep, deep breath, before letting it loose in measured steps. She could say so many things, here. She could be cruel, she could be panicked, she could be many things. So many things packed into her wheelhouse from a lifetime of bad choices made for her and by her. She could simply leave, a part of her whispered.

Are you alright after meeting her again?

She chose to be kind.

She was asking about his well-being? Vorilye blinked, frowning at her, almost... confused. His answer came without much thought. "I'm fine." He didn't even know if it was true. He took a hesitant step closer to her, and he vowed, "She won't get near the shadewood — she doesn't even know we live here." Then, he added with a heavy sigh, "I got treatment from a woman named Lane — she belongs to Atautsikut, the pack on the nearby summit. She said... if things get rough, we can go there." He didn't want to move, but if they had too, if their family was at risk...

Vorilye stated he was fine, but Themis’s frown deepened.

If my past came back to bite me, I don’t know how fine I’d be. Quite literally, she thought as she swept her iced blues over the wounds on the taller man, before her eyes returned to his scarred face.

If she doesn’t know, we wont risk it by leaving. The Shadewood wont fall, it will keep all of us hidden until the children are at least of the age to travel. Her words tumbled out in an almost incomprehensible stream, only held back by her brief realization that she was speaking faster.

Once they can…we see about moving. But that’s a bridge we can cross once we come to it. Themis gave a short puff of air.

We need to get established. Fast. I’ll tell Ouranios, when I return, to see about upping the ante on recruiting. Once we get a good base, I’ll.. What would she do? Go herself? That would be a dumbass move, for a king to go alone. She let her eyes lapsed closed.

Ill send a message. To a friend. He might be able to help us if we point him in the right direction.

She hoped Germanicus didn’t mind a friendly chat. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up her treason.

She questioned him, and for a moment, he questioned himself. He was injured, sore, and his pride had been shattered. Everything that had once made him great was no more. Had it been worth it? He wasn't certain. He made no comment on this, however, and chose to respond to her next statement. "Unless she comes looking for me here, she won't find me — I plan to stay within the shadewood, at least for now. She doesn't know about you, or the children." Hopefully that would stay that way. He had nothing to say until she'd spoken her last words. They confused him. "Help how?" Another frown.

Themis shook her head.

I.. She felt queasy, but she pushed it away. Vasiliás. That’s what she was. She couldn’t afford this.

Its something to just think about later. I don’t know where he is anyway. Her mind had scrambled her last several weeks in Akashingo, and she couldn’t recall at the moment where her friend had ended up.

You need to clean up and get some rest, Vorilye. C’mon, you can stay with me and the anklebiters for a while. I need another face for them to gnaw on. She flashed a little smile, awkward on her face.

Later. Right. He wasn't quite certain how he would prevent himself from worrying about it now, but he would keep that to himself. When Themis offered him her den, his eyes widened slightly. Uncertain, he murmured, "If... that is what you wish, of course." Though, he couldn't deny that his pulse had quickened at the offer. He knew it meant nothing — just two warm bodies... well, and four whelps. But there was no insinuations there. He smiled, a half smile that just barely reached his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, brushing past her to enter the den. He would cram himself in the corner and attempt to occupy the least amount of space possible.

Dont mention it.

Themis swept in along behind Vorilye, making sure he was settled, before she plopped herself in the mouth of the den, still frowning.

…are you sure you’re alright? Her voice was a gentle murmur, ears gently pulling back.

He was questioned once more, and he found himself frowning as he settled his head on his paws. "I don't know," he answered, sighing heavily. He closed his eyes, but that only made him focus more on the pain, so he opened them again, gazing instead at Themis and the whelps. "But I have to be." And so he would be. Vorilye had never been taught that it was okay to be struggling — in fact, he was taught quite the opposite. Anything less than perfection was a waste of time and energy. Vorilye sighed again, this time as exhaustion began to overtake him. Quietly, he mumbled, "Let's rest now and... and worry later."