Totoka River You are exactly what I want: kinda cool and kinda not

If this receives no replies by 06/26 it will be concluded and archived.

Finally, Reverie could no longer bear it.
The last days without @Lestan had been existence on a knife's edge; constantly balancing, constantly aware of the sting of it, the danger of making any wrong move. She thought of him more often than not. It was only to be expected that eventually it would become too much. Reluctantly she left @Blossom with Vairë, kissing her forehead and promising to return with the girl's father.
She followed his scent as far as she could. Which... was not very far at all before it began to take a toll. The first time she stopped for rest, Reverie found herself in an abrupt tailspin; fever lit within her veins like a wildfire, and when she made to restart her pursuit of her husband, she only managed an hour of travel before she faltered. In the end she settled by the river, watching it with fever-bright eyes and a far-away look. Her breath was fast and shallow as her heartbeat.
She did not look like she was dying. But she certainly felt it.

It was not in his best interest to stay here. It was not in hers. But Everett could be a selfish man and a foolish one, as he had been in the Gilded Sea. His sister had run from him with burning tears, and he had not forgiven himself for that, even though he was still certain his decision to pledge himself to Sweetharbor had been right…

He simply wished Reverie had done the same.

He prayed every day to the God he was learning of that he might see his sister again, see that she was alive, and safe. Today, his Lord met him with a partial answer — here she is, for you to see. What will you do now?

Everett hesitated. Then, he drew closer. Easy, as much as he could be. Not close enough that he could see the look in her eyes, turned away from him and drifting along the River.

Hey Rev, he said with a soft note and ghosted smile. The nickname felt funny on his tongue but he hoped it might help her realize he wasn’t angry with her. It had already been so long.

stealing :o

Yells quietly... this is still open to joiners tho!

Everett.
She didn't see him until he addressed her, and then she noticed him all at once; it startled her but outwardly she hardly reacted. Reverie only turned and stared at him for a long moment, expression hazy, eyes clouded.
Then she started to cry. Everett - I - I'm sick, and I can't find Lestan, and - Her voice broke and it took a moment of effort to steady herself again. You have to help me find him. Please. There was a grim certainty in her that she would die if she did not find Lestan. She needed him, and she could wait no longer.

Reverie turned, and it was then he saw the sickness. Rimming her eyes, shooting them through, clouding their brightness — but he was no healer. He could not put a name on it. Was it a head cold or mere sleeplessness? Or something deep reaching?

A shock of fear, but he held his composure, save for a ripple of bewilderment that widened his eyes.

He had the urge to race in and hold her again but the children — Heda, Caracal, their little brood stopped him. He could not make himself sick and bring sickness to them. But his sister, his sister.

She shouldn’t be out here. And where was Lestan?

Did he tell you where he went? his quiet voice pushed through the rush of summer waters, did he say when he might be back?

Anger pierced the fear he had felt. Lestan was not good for his sister, unstable like her, between all the words she’d ever said of him. But he kept these things tightly inside.

He went - to find the witch, Reverie blinked, struggling to remember what they'd agreed upon. Do you remember the beach where you found me?
He said he would come back, but - I - I need him here, with me - and our daughter! She stood, suddenly frantic again. He couldn't be far, surely...? Reverie cast a glance around as if she might see him even now. But her eyes found Everett again. There were so many things she wanted to say, knowing this might be the last opportunity ever given to her. There just wasn't time. She needed to find Lestan.

The witch.

His skin prickled beneath his fur. He had known only light in these wilds, and had come to it more wholly on the island, but where light shone, darkness often followed.

I remember, he said, distant as he turned everything else she said over in his heart, his mind, his soul. It troubled him down to the very core. They were both creatures saved from darkness. Why he plunge them both back into harms way again?

Of course, Everett knew the guilt his sister carried over her courtship with Lestan, how she saw herself as cursed for bearing a child before they’d wed. Is that why Lestan had sought out the witch? To break a curse that wasn’t there at all?

The beach is at least two days full travel away, far, was all he meant to say, when did he leave? he asked again, and have you slept at all since leaving the bay? Eaten, even? If you’re sick, you’re only going to make yourself worse.

You know this, Ophelia.

Her ears flattened at his displeasure. She did know this, didn't she? He left... a few days ago, I think? Not very long, but Reverie's recall was rapidly worsening. She took in a deep breath. I - you're right. And Blossom is alone with Vairë... I should - I should - She started to cry again.
I should go back, but I don't want to! Oh, she sounded like a child — I'm sorry. I'm being - childish. I just... I feel horrible, and I miss him. I thought - Reverie sighed. It doesn't matter what I thought. Will you - will you come with me?
She sucked in a breath, chest tightening. Not forever. Just for a little while.

the introduction of @Saint, @Accipitra, @Hierophant, and @Anathema had been a dispassionate mother who let them roll on bare sand and who glibly loaded them into a piece of driftwood that lestan used to balance the charges.
four times, and four dropped with him, and he watched the witch disappear before he set about trying to cover the little ones from the sun somehow.
he had no water and no milk for them, and very much doubted they would all make it.
but he dragged and pushed the driftwood all the same, stopping in what shade he found. adrenaline and anger and the anticipation of seeing reverie again drove lestan.
but then it was night, and their cries of hunger went on, and he had nothing for them but a clawing madness and resentment of their mother. he clutched the odd fruits close, thinking them still a magickal herb of some sort.
and the next day he went on, faltering; it was only the scent of water which kept him on the path, and here he found reverie! the other was spared no glance; lestan fell into the sunwarmed shallows and drank huge draughts of river while lifting a paw in gesture to the piece of driftwood covered by wide leaves — moving here and there.
"her children."
"and a plant from her islands."

one post cameo so please skip me going forward.

rudely transplanted from all she had known, accipitra grew stormily silent. she was no great passenger; several times she made her break from the driftwood, only to be roundly pulled from the saltwater and placed dripping back on board. 

that night wails rose to the sky, but not from her.  

a fever stormed her body. while her caretaker presented her to the duo before him, accipitra fell to the ground in a slump of feverish lethargy.

Anathema had weakened rapidly throughout the journey. She clung now to the finest of threads; delicate as she was at this age, life was a thing easily snatched from her grasp. Yet she breathed, and even found it in herself to reach for the comfort of one of her siblings, perhaps Accipitra, who seemed to have a tendency to fall away from the rest.

She could be a siren with her tears; she broke his reservations. She was being childish, and she knew it. They both did. But they swayed the brotherly instinct to protect her. 

And, after all — Reverie finally seemed to understand.

Relief washed through him like the waves across the sandbar. He would not bring up Sweetharbor to her again, but perhaps in time, she would listen to him about that, too.

I’ll come, was all he said. He would need to send a signal up to Caracal and Heda so they would not worry for him, and he would stay until Lestan returned.

But before they could move — before the words barely slipped his mouth — a crashing over land.

Lestan, breaking through the veiled tree line to collapse at the rivers edge. Everett’s jaw tightened, speechless, but the man was not without words.

Children.

A plant.

What is going on? Everett snapped his eyes to the wriggling cargo, to his sister, to her lover. Crazed. Calm.

He bristled.

You took her children?

With half a mind he stepped between the lovers, and wildfire burned in his chest.

I am so sorry, Everett

The instant she caught sight of Lestan, she forgot her brother entirely; as if he'd never been there, as if he'd ceased to exist. Lestan! She stepped around Everett thoughtlessly and went to her husband, sniffing him all over while he drank, checking him for cuts or bruises or illness or anything, anything! He seemed weakened by travel, strained, but unharmed. Then he spoke, and her eyes flicked to the driftwood and stayed there.
Oh, She breathed. For me? Reverie felt — she was — well, delighted. She went to the children next, at once noticing the slump of the dark girl and the weakness of her dual-toned sibling. Her expression turned somber, yet the very sight of them seemed to revive her in some small way, or at least it felt so to Reverie.
We'll need herbs. I'm still lactating a little from Blossom, but… not enough. Less every day, She should have stopped some time ago, she thought, but suspected her overuse of such herbs to sustain Blossom had some kind of lingering effect. Reverie gathered the children to her and prompted them to try their luck. And this one is sick, I think. What's her name? All of them? Her eyes turned to Lestan, livelier than they'd been in some time.
Still she did not truly see Everett.

lestan's eyes were muzzy, but they sharpened as the stranger spoke. "yes. i did. she g-gave them to me, and that, reverie," sitting up, trying to draw her attention to the plant.
he — he stared as she started to warm to them, speaking of milk and blossom and their names; "— no! no, i don't w-want them, reverie."
he limped to her; lestan hadn't the heart to pull the children away from the curve of her belly, but the sight of them there enraged him almost to blindness. "s-she said you need this p-plant, and light; you need to choose a god. she said we had to raise them, but," he shook his head swiftly, quickly, staring up toward everett almost in a plead. "we d-don't have to take them back to the bay, reverie, listen," eyes frantic on her again. "come on. w-we'll take this plant. w-we'll go home to blossom, okay?"

Reverie ignored him, and Lestan listened, but Everett heard the insanity in them both.

Reverie’s was a frightening kind; oblivious, delusional. She wrapped herself around the pups as though they were her own. As though they had not been taken. As though this was right.

Lestan’s was a stumbling type. Quick, stuttering. He had taken the children, but for what reason? He didn't seem to know if he wanted the children or wanted them gone.

Who gave up their children without demanding something in return? Everett only knew of witches from stories, but he knew enough to know they were nothing to be crossed.

Lestan’s eyes pleaded. Bring them light. Choose a god. His belly turned — and his mind, once more to Sweetharbor.

He had light. He knew God. And Everett had no doubt the Lion would welcome these children under the shelter of His care. He had welcomed Everett, after all — he, the worst of sinners. These pups could have life on the island. Love. The understanding of something beautiful. Someone beautiful.

They would have a chance.

I know God, his voice came in a hush, and He is good, and he knew of one who could give them milk. But no — this was insane! And he rounded with a sterner demand once more, What did she ask for, Lestan? What did you give her that made her give you her pups? What price would be on them? Why had she sent them away? And why would you even think of bringing those berries back with you — of eating them. You got them from a witch! his eyes turned to Reverie, molten in their rainwater, They’ll be no better than the mushrooms in the Gilded Sea, and you know what those did! Please, Reverie, I don’t want you to become that.

To become me, and what I was.

A god.

But he had only ever been mortal, a delusion wrapped up in gilded skin.

She did not understand at first.
And then she did, and then her eyes were welling with tears again as he continued. He sounded very far away, somehow. Reverie shook her head. They're - they're just babies, Lestan, they haven't done anything - Her voice rose with emotion and broke. The Gilded Sea; fire and gold and terror and guilt and dread, so much dread for a future she could only imagine within the boundaries of that horrible place.
My - my parents were - horrible. Do you think that - that makes me - Like them; tainted by them, unworthy of love, deserving of nothing more than the misery into which she'd been born. Reverie trembled, and could not look at Lestan. She looked instead at Everett, turning her sudden ire to him — And you, She nearly growled the words. You wanted out of my life, didn't you, Everett? So - so stay out of it. And now she curled protectively around the children, afraid that Lestan or her brother would try to take them from her. She would not send them off into the unknown. She would not.
They'd already been abandoned once.

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"y-you're nothing like her!" lestan growled, and then he looked toward everett, processing too slow and too late. "s-she owes us, for the curse she put on reverie! i am t-telling you true, she did not want them."
he licked his dry lips, glanced at reverie, and spoke aloud: "i threatened to kill her. to drown them." his voice was steady, oh he did not waver in this. "and she didn't even blink." to everett: "i think she means to keep reverie trapped with them. these berries; yes. that's w-what she said. that they made you see — spirits."
he struck them away and tore his eyes from the ailing children. "she d-didn't want them. why should i? why should we, reverie? haven't y-you given her enough?"
he was a fool, for believing; a fool for swimming; for his empty words; for his weakness; for how he had struggled to bring them here with no promise their presence could cure her.
"i should have killed her then." he rounded toward reverie again, and now his voice trembled with the force of love —! "i'll help you bring them back, if it's what you want. but i w-won't stay. i c-can't watch whatever t-they do to you."
hadn't she been dying? lestan felt sharply then that if she was to pass, her time should be with blossom! not these — well, he could not conjure any insult for them, but he stood firm in this, and glanced between her face and everett's own.

No, Everett’s voice strained under the spark of his sister’s anger. Lightning cracked, sizzled, contained within his still healing shell. He was the storm, and the tempest threatened a downpour. It rose instead as a stinging in his eyes. The corners of his vision blurred, you’re my sister, I never wanted you gone. If you had listened you would have known that. I wept for you when you left me. I’ve prayed to see you again.

And here you are.

He would not leave her again.

Lestan explained himself, in words of killing, drowning! And his words conflicted, shifted, changed at every turn. Did he want them? Did he not? Reverie, Reverie, Reverie. And then he saw, and understood: their obsession for each other, even as Lestan spoke of leaving her.

Again.

An ultimatum, between her husband and these children who had done nothing but breathe the life God had given them, the life He still gave them now.

You are a cruel man, Everett said as he pulled his eyes away from the pups and to Lestan, as the pieces clicked in placed, for you to threaten to leave her, or to make her watch these children die.

If he had wanted then gone, he should have drowned them at sea. Now, the guilt would come crashing down on Reverie’s head — or the spiralling sorrow of losing Lestan forever.

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Mention of suicide

He threatened to leave her, and for a moment she heard nothing else. Reverie stood carefully. The children were forgotten. She felt cold all over. Through the haze she heard Everett's voice; Everett, calling Lestan cruel. And he was, wasn't he?
It's because he doesn't love me, not truly, Her voice trembled but did not break. Her eyes were on Lestan, and now she addressed him. You say that you do - but you try to leave me - or send me away, when you know I can't live without you! I won't, I won't! The words rose; hysteria now, her breath too fast and icy in her throat despite the warmth of the breeze, and she was nearly shrieking but hardly realized it. Everything felt blurry; unreal.
I would have tried anything - anything for a little more time with you. But - if you don't want me, then - then I won't wait around to - to die, without you, Her throat was tight. It hurt to speak. And her last words were little more than a raw whisper, but full of promise:
I'll end it right now.

i am sorry, i just love a good curve ball

accipitra slunk.

behind her bumbled anathema's reassuring touch - enough to briefly pull the babe from her collapse, but not enough to rally her.

hot, then cold. little shadows then big ones. accipitra's eyelids fluttered groggily. she was so hungry. so thirsty -- so feverish and uncomfortable!

a smack of something behind her jostled accipitra briefly back into the waking world. a branch with a thick cluster of berries tumbled well beyond her reach, but segment of berries had loosened, and it tumbled towards her in bright cheery bounces.

the child's eyes widened. blurry as it was, she recognized the shape as food and fell upon it while the adults bickered amongst themselves. she ate without chewing.

a pit lodged in her stomach, causing tiny hiccups to rack her frame.

he doesn't love me.
not truly
"y-you absolutely w-will not leave blossom early," lestan countered, but the bite had gone out of his voice, his eyes, his body.
"you told me you were dying. i left for you. i w-went to her, for you!" an inhale.
everett called him cruel.
reverie denied his feeling — as if everything lestan had ever done in the last several months had not been for her! the wandering, the crying, the bleeding, and yes, now, the death she said would come.
not truly
"you don't need me to live, reverie," he said in a low cold tone. "just choose to live, the way you're choosing to give them life."
movement, out of the corner of his eye — one of the children, swallowing down one of the accursed berries. lestan lunged for her, clattering the branch out of reach of all of them; he held the babe in the crook of his arm, refusing to remember when blossom had been this small, and tried to prise the miniscule jaws open. but the fruit was gone, and now he stood trembling in assumption reverie too would blame him for this.
"everett," for that was the other's name. "everett, if you believe so much in god's goodness, and maybe even in theirs, then you take them. we have a daughter, and we need to get back to her." 
that same monotone of speech, and lestan saw its ability falling away even as he clung for its edges.
he doesn't love me. not truly.
he doesn't love me.
the mayfair shoved the child in his arms toward the man who had called him cruel, but if the seawolf would not take her, lestan would only set her down among the others and return to reverie, a citadel that motioned softly. "let's go to blossom."

There were many things he could have said, many things he could have left unsaid, but patience had reached his end, and this was the price. Accusations from the overflow of his mounting frustration of seeing his sister and her husband drag themselves deeper into muddy pits they kept on digging.

By the time Everett understood what his sister had threatened, Lestan was pleading again — and in these things, where his fire had died, he finally made sense. Everett believed the man was right: that Reverie would and could live without him, and perhaps both would be better off if they tried. But Everett also knew the vows of marriage and the gravity of what they must have sworn to each other. They were bound now, by child and home; they belonged, each to the other. And in this, they destroyed themselves.

He caught the small movement too, a fraction after Lestan lunged towards the pups, and his eyes widened, and his paws followed in a scramble of fear. No! The other man went straight for the mouth of one of the tiny daughters, and Everett went straight for the stick Lestan had kicked aside. He trampled the damned fruit under paw, scuffing dirt over the juices, and hurling the broken stick into into the river.

But the damage had been done. A headache pierced behind his eyes, and he closed his eyes against it all. The wail that threatened to spill from his throat, the cursing and sorrow and fear. For the child who had eaten the fruit. For Reverie with her threats. Unable to leave her — but he could not kill the children, either! But if Lestan would not go with them — 

Oh God, his heart finally cried, what am I supposed to do?

It was then that Lestan said his name.

Shoved the child towards him, the hiccoughing little girl with belly full of sorrows.

How dare they bring this on him! But a stillness pierced his anger and his fire withered. His arms aches with the sharp anguish of leaving Reverie again, of what he knew he had to do.

I will take them, he said, and looked up from the little girl Lestan had forced on him and over to the brood his sister still covered, Go back to Blossom. I know of someone who can provide for them.

But the witch can never know.

Swallowing back the swell of sickness in her throat, Reverie could only watch as the two men fretted over the child. Her eyes were dull now as she looked over each of them, a bone-deep exhaustion settling over her. Even now Lestan spoke only of Blossom. Perhaps it was only for her that he stayed, only for her that he worried at all about Reverie's eventual fate.
If he did not love her, she did not want to live.
Even in her despair Reverie clung to the hope that she was mistaken, that he did love her, that it would all be okay. She nodded mutely to Lestan's last words, and reached for him. Quiet tears soaked into the fur at her cheeks. Yes. I want to go home. I want you to hold me. I want - She broke off with a small pained gasp and truly started to sob, seeking to bury her face in Lestan's fur if he'd let her. He was upset, she knew this, but even so she sought comfort from him.
There was no one else to comfort her; she'd cast aside everyone else who'd tried to love her in pursuit of this.

skippable now <3

she was buffeted. picked up. cradled and moved.

she was aware of a current moving under her, her eyes groggily transfixing first on the man that tucked her in the crook of her arms.

the berry sat in her stomach like a malcontent, bruised and simmering.

a new face swam within her vision. the current became stronger, a stream outpouring through her mouth. her little brow furrowed as heat shimmered in the corner of her eyes.

all the sudden a retch seized her; half a globule of berry ensconced in frothy bile rose from her lips and splattered to the ground.

where were her siblings? accipitra tried to look around and instead flopped, sinking through the ground as a thousand fangs pulled her into black.

skippable - just want to snatch this opportunity up! apologies for the rust, i haven't written in a while.

travel made him weary. despite all that had happened, or maybe in spite of it, he had remained silent and unmoving — as a child is supposed to do.

yet soon he found himself surrounded by cacophany that sent shockwaves through his body. he could only carry so much patience in his tiny frame, and as something bounced in front of him he moved in swift action as he had never done before.

the berry distended his belly, though it would still be minutes before it began to take effect. for the time being he was content to scream.

last for me! <3 feel free to tag heda at some point <3

the wounding would not be complete until he had time to think of it. reverie turned on all that she had said; she rose and murmured and pressed herself to him.
but lestan was staring at everett, and then from everett to the children, who seemed as cursed and as drawn to the frothing fruit as their mother had meant them to be.
cursed.
his face twisted in pain and fury, but he placed the sight of his spine to the brother of his wife and walked off across the sands, supporting her numbly as they proceeded back to saltshore.