Redtail Rise morendo

this can be set whenever, no rush or obligation

Ashlar had resolved upon his return from the shore to tell @Avicus what he'd done, but he wouldn't pile it on her when it was a problem he had created. He waited until there was a quiet moment. The pups were likely being watched by another or playing nearby, but it wouldn't matter if they heard. He just needed her to know.

He felt the anxiety of the admission like a leaden weight but he pushed past it. There's... um. Sorry. There's something I need to tell you. He hesitated just the one time, but his slung tail and apologetic behavior would likely betray his guilt. It wasn't anything new for Ashlar to come to her expecting that he'd done wrong, but this time he knew it. This was different.

she's enjoying another much-needed break from her rowdy trio when Ashlar appears, and lays a grave conversation upon her immediately. she pauses from her work—she's picking the meat off a rabbit bone, trying to get to the marrow, as she is wont to do—and rises to her paws, brows furrowed slightly at the seriousness in his tone.

mmm? Avicus inquires, waiting for him to speak. Ashlar in a grave mood is nothing new, but he usually keeps to himself. to have something shareable with his Wealda must be noteworthy, and she braces herself for bad news—

even feeling her spine and shoulders stiffen; they hadn't in a while. things have been good.

god, what did he have to say?

It wasn't easy but he needed to just say it. Ashlar wasn't sure what to expect. He hadn't meant for this to happen, but things had gotten away from him and now it was too late.

What did he hope for, telling her? He didn't know that either.

I.... there's.... I didn't mean for it to happen. He had a hard time finding where to begin. But I'm.... the pack on the coast. There was a girl, and we... she's pregnant. His ears fell back, but he forced himself not to look down. She doesn't need me. I wanted you to know.

It hurt a bit to say it, but he knew it was true. He wouldn't leave for this although a part of him wondered if he was doing the right thing by remaining. Chacal drew him, but his heart and his loyalty remained.

As long as Avicus still wanted it. He had no reason to believe this would change anything - why, then, was he so afraid?

it took a moment for the words to sink in. she listened, and parsed them all, and it was a heartbeat before her neutral (albeit somewhat worried) gaze begins to burn.

of course he'd stay loyal to the pack. that isn't her concern.

there's nothing rational about her anger—except maybe there is, because he'd come here, groveling with tail between his legs. 

he had turned her down in the midst of her heat, and had gotten another with child.

children that would belong to a different pack! when the Rise needed bodies!

how dare he turn HER down?!

who? Avicus manages to spit through teeth tightly clenched. when? her tail lashes behind her; had it weighed as much as her rage, she might have created with it storms to ravage the plains.

She was angry and he didn't understand why at first. Perhaps she did not believe him when he said he would stay. Or perhaps she felt he was not suited to fatherhood, even the absent kind. Ashlar's face fell further with each and he sank smaller into himself. He had nothing to face her anger with.

Chacal. From Sapphique. He answered quietly, then stopped.

He had no excuses for it, so all he could do was apologize. Sorry. At... they wo.... He needed to be calm. Ashlar breathed. They won't bother the Rise. They'll be hers. His weakness wouldn't spread, if that was her worry. It hurt to think it but it wasn't the first time. She'd gathered Prophet and Tulimaq and Augur and their like with a purpose that Ashlar knew he was not suited to. He knew this even more because despite the pain it caused, he was grateful - in all of their conversations, Chacal had never once spoken of warriors, nor of war. They would grow up with songs instead.

his explanation is not satisfactory.

that isn't. the. point.

'hhey 'houldh be here, Avicus snaps. our warriorhh. our hunh'erhh. you know we needh more of 'em.

they should be MINE.

she looks away in disgust, eyes blazing cold fire. at least it's Sapphique. an ally. but still—why should Sapphique benefit from the Rise's virility?

he'd been capable. and he'd turned her down. and she will forever resent that.

Ashlar wilted before her anger and withdrew. He did know that. He wished he were not so aware, at all times, of this. He had thought she understood.

If they're like me.... it wouldn't... they couldn't. He once again couldn't look at her. He kept his eyes down and his voice small, but he knew this was beyond him anyway. Chacal had been very clear - they belonged to the cliffs.

We don't need more me. It was a truth. It was why she had chosen others. Chacal had sought him in spite of this and shown him a new experience, made it clear that what she wanted was something he could give. He did not know if he would revoke it, even seeing the outcome. But Avicus' rejection here hurt more than any so far.

his answer leaves her stupefied. did he really think his softness was within the bones, rather than the heart? she'd briefly met his family; they'd healed her, cared for her. and she'd not grasped any sort of residual weakness on their part.

'hhey couldh 'hhlearn, Avicus argues, shaking her head. her eyes meet his—or try, at least—with a gimlet query. i came'uh you, in heahh', she remarks harshly, chin raised. i pick'gd you.

i wanted you. and you, too cowardly to choose me, too.

but some woman from the sea sufficed just fine. there was hurt in her gaze, in the way her shoulders stiffened. she looks at him, utterly betrayed.

Perhaps - but not if they were like him. He knew that blood wasn't something he could ever learn, not unless driven by something he hadn't encountered yet. They would only learn if they wished for something he couldn't comprehend.

This next part he did not understand. She looked so angry but he could only stare with confusion, trying to sort out what he was missing. Picked him? When? He had come across her during that time, but it hadn't been as it had with Chacal. He would have known.

You picked them, he said, his head tilting a bit. He was hesitant, trying to remember, but he knew. He tried so hard to give her what she wanted. I understood. He thought he did... but now he was lost.

he doesn't see. he never would. 

she hadn't picked anyone—not really. the others had taken her for their own; they had understood the song and dance that came with her estrus perfume. perhaps this was one song and dance Ashlar didn't know.

but then, he did, apparently. he did, and now Redtail blood lays idle by the sea.

again, Avicus shakes her head. she has no more words for him. no way to make him understand. the anger on her face has faded into something desperate and despondent, for it's—

no, not love. she could never love this poor, underling man.

possession. that's what she felt.

and Chacal had stolen from her.

she turns and walks away without another sentence, shoulders hunched, tail uncharacteristically low.

There was something new in her face, but she didn't speak before she turned to go. He wanted to follow but knew that he shouldn't... and instead he stood, feeling more and more upset as he realized what this meant.

He couldn't describe to her what it had been like, seeing the others and knowing he could not face them. Tulimaq's stern warning, the way he'd stood over her.... it was clear, and she had made no complaint. She hadn't asked. Chacal had come to him and shown him the ways in which desire could be shown, but Avicus... she'd wanted their strength. He'd seen that.

She wanted someone who could fight for her. And again, he wondered if she looked at him and only saw a coward.

Ashlar's chest caught with a sob and he buried his face in his forelegs, trying to quiet them as they began. It didn't matter how hard he tried. He would never be able to do enough. He would never be enough. Not for the things that mattered, nor the things that he wanted.