Swiftcurrent Creek who almost died of a broken heart

Their eyes opened.

No longer could she keep @Akavir at the edge of the den. A shadow to their sight. She expected him to be there again today. At the edge, outside.

A world that she missed.

She bundled the triplets carefully in a small pile of themselves before she crouched to crawl out of the den. Only halfway. She blinked as the world seemed terribly grey, misty in its weather today.

She crooned for the man she had taken.

The man led the pack with a distinct sternness that he also hoped brokered kindness to those that understood—internally, he waged a war with what he would do regarding a pack under a hungry Pharaoh that potentially held his daughter captive politically. Soon, he would seek those of his old pack to interrogate them of their involvement with Akashingo and why Lilitu had paid the price—

—and yet when Jakoul crooned for him, beckoning him forward, the shadow runner was once more drawn back to his own youthful days, so unsure and uncertain when his first litter had been presented to him. He was nervous for this meeting—and he held back a scoff at himself.

His eyes sought her first—his steps as delicate as could be, given his stocky form. She had kept them close, accepting no visitors spare Reverie and he had respected such. She blinked against the greyscape land—the thaw was coming, but it would be many weeks still before the land would truly blossom.

Then, he paused—pale eyes flitting over a trio of darkness, and a certain flicker of pleasure and wondered gleamed from him, his own rumble drawing from his throat—his muzzle reaching out to graze a kiss to her cheek, her muzzle, her crown—should she allow it.

She was given kisses.

She had not an idea what she had expected, but this had not been it. She knew that some part of it may have been cruel to only keep the company of Reverie when these children had been meant for the creek as a whole.

They were still her babies.

Two dusted by the silver of their father.

See, She instructed him softly as she moved backward. Turned so she could brush her nose over the children.

Eyes open.

She motioned for him to fully join her in the space they had carved together.

There was a reverence in which she revealed the pups to their father—and he understood why. Three, all perfection, their dark fur pristine, their soft forms melded to one another in warmth and comfort. They were the definition of innocence—and his eyes rove over them hungrily. When he had discussed the meaning of it all with Arric—had tried to pull away from Jakoul’s intentions, and then insisted these were children only for her and the creek—he had been so very, very wrong.

Only moments passed and the man knew he would move mountains for them—that they were indeed Jakoul’s, and the Creek’s… but they were his—and fiercely so. A man that could walk away from such a responsibility or pretend it held no closer meaning was an utter fool.

He had been an utter fool.

“Can I?” He nodded in their direction—he would not misstep under this trusted visit. He wished to hold them, should she allow it—and still, yet, he would place a kiss to her brow—his rumble of contentment continuing.

And so, Akavir would be allowed to spend more time with the pups now, and it started with the man sliding to the den floor, inspecting them more closely, and pulling them toward him for an embrace.