Stone Circle Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?

@Louis Forward dating for ~ midish-June so keeping things vague and making lots of assumptions loool I will fix it up if anything needs updating <33

The highlands and the wolves who take up residence here have more than they could want or need. Cold weather had seen Kvarsheim numbers dwindle. Now they run strong, keeping their hunting fields milled, digging many dens out for the influx of new affiliates, reinforcing their alliances with Riverclan and the creek wolves with acts of goodwill. The alphas are expecting their litter any week now and the excitement of new life is tangible in the heavy breeze that stirs the pack. They are all healthy. Gunnar and Taktuq seem to be in good spirits. Skáld is nearly one.

She’s been thinking less and less about home. A full year has passed since she’s seen her siblings. Even when she closes her eyes, the faces conjured are blurred at the edges and losing their shape in her memory. Growing a little more fuzzy with every recall.

But she envisions them now as her paws bring her to the countryside on the Northern cusp of Kvarsheim to stand bathed in muted dusky light from the sky that stretches endlessly in every direction. She thinks of her mom, dad, aunt, her brothers, sisters and cousins. Of everyone who's been lost to distance and time. She does not regret leaving, nor her life here in Kvarshiem. Yet still there is that unexplainable numbness of wondering what your life could have looked like if you’d chosen differently.

(Hopefully this works! Lemme know if i need to fix anything :3)

Louis was afflicted by no such queries. He'd mostly stuck to no-wolf's lands in his wandering, meeting dispersals and investigating the world that was open before him without the need to worry over border disputes. But though he had no need to wonder what could have been... he certainly preoccupied himself now with what was.

And right now was lonely.

Strangers passed in and out of his life, some sooner than he would have liked. While he was eager to smile, to continue his way toward another dawn, another horizon... he did find himself cold at night with no one to tuck against.

Which led him to think, perhaps, that respecting the borders of the nearby packs might be less important than his desire to meet someone new. His father had found a mate on such an incursion; not every member of a pack was hostile as a first resort. And Louis really only wanted companionship. A friendly face. Which seemed like it should be even easier to uncover, if he smiled and wagged politely.

He fantasized about finding true love nonetheless. But a myriad other possibilities existed - wolves who felt the road calling and needed only an invitation to sally forth. Or maybe one would actually convince him to settle down; it could happen! At the very least he looked forward to a bit of mischief, or an adventure, or a story to tell. 

What he did not expect to scent on the breeze was someone he recognized. Pausing, his ears twisted back, unsure. Then forward again as certainty claimed him, and he trotted up to the crest of the hill, eyes wide and curious as he hoped to spot a familiar dusky coat.

it is perfect <33

Always, he’s like a myth. An illusion even if she knew he was real. Materializing behind closed eyes in dreams that secretly ache for adolescence and simpler times.

And so a familiar blue waver set upon the sea of grass is imagined, and cast away with a trio of blinks that fight for the clearer picture. But that body is carried closer, his scent is delivered on the highland’s breath and her paws are lifting her towards the reality of him without realizing it first.

“Louis?”

Her gait deflates into no more than a restless hobble, circling about him in shaky disbelief, tail taking turns between ticking furiously and freezing as she sniffs the air around his jowls.

But it is him and he is here- a truth, and not a fable.

“Louis!”

An elated cry as she pushes her cold nose into his shoulder, nips at his ears and paws, prances over his rump and scrambles under his chest, springing and lapping and barking.

When her emotions were too strong for words, she sang. When they were too strong for song, she danced. 

For a moment, he hadn't been sure of his welcome. But her voice erases any doubt, and as soon as she speaks, he lunges forward with a happy yip back, "Tauris!"

Where have you been? What adventures have you had? Did you miss me?

The smell of her tells him some. Half a picture, or less than that -- because it's her voice that will really bring the stories to life, and he can't wait to ask her.

Her excitement elevates his own, and he nips back, tail a furious flying thing between leaps and ducks and spins and rolls. When she pauses, he bows. When she leaps, he answers. A bark, half a howl, wrenches free of him. It bugles the joy he feels no reason to disguise, and for a moment all his loneliness vanishes like dew in the sun.

It's the excitement that causes him to overlook it, at first. Something different in her scent - and not just the tapestry of packmates across her fur which informs him she's settled down. But the change digs around in the back of his mind, until recognition peeks out into the open.

She didn't spend her last heat alone. He's almost certain of it. There's a confusing twist of emotion in his belly at the thought. It breaks him out of their game long enough to become apparent, though the smile doesn't drop from across his pant. There's no reason not to smile, right...?

Cocking his head, Louis looks over her again, more intently, and wonders which stranger on her pelt she might have chosen to lay with. If she wanted it. And if the leaders of her new home know. And if they'll allow it. If anything comes of it at all...

But those aren't questions even he is bold enough to ask, especially because a rebellious (or perhaps wisened) bit of him holds onto doubt and the possibility of being wrong. Instead he chooses a different track, "You look well." Not as scrawny as their first days together. Not as lonely.

He's happy for her.

A look so subtle, but there. Clear enough for her to clench her teeth and bite down on her own despair.

Does he know? Is she so translucent under his sky eyes? And what is this feeling like guilt that riddles about her shoulders, perching like a crow waiting for her heart to rupture so they can pick at it?

She steadies herself on shaky ground, the excitement of seeing him again foiled by a shame of seeing him again- and a pure, terrible confusion.

If she thought she could, she’d tell him everything she’d learned in the span of time when they existed separately. That it’s not easy being grown, or in a pack, but that she’s trying. That she is enamored with a man named Fig, that she expects she is carrying his children. But that she thinks of their kiss; remembers the storm, and his adventures. And she’d tell him that a part of her would wish to follow where he goes, to see the things he’s seen and climb the mountains no others have. Are such feelings allowed to subsist at once?

But she’ll temper beneath his smile, return it, and shift to admire his new summer coat.

“And you! What are you doing here?” She laughs and frisks around him. “This is my pack, now,” She adds a little shyly.

“Welcome to Kvarsheim.”

The weight of things unsaid was strange to Louis, usually so bold with his words and his heart. He can feel the absence of... some clarity, some question. It fills the space between their panting like ripples of heat off a prairie fire. But he isn't sure how to ask for any of it, or if he even should.

Maybe for now it's enough to be reunited, and not have all the answers.

He's never been the jealous type. Just lonesome.

Tail wagging, he follows her with his gaze as she circles, grin never fading. "I was curious, why else?" A chuckle. "But I didn't think I'd find you again. Maybe fate wasn't done with us." Does she remember suggesting it had brought them together, before? Is that too bold? He's willing to say it without knowing for certain, and see how she receives it.

Then he flops to the soft grass, rolling onto his side and raising a paw toward her. "I daresay packlife suits you."

She says nothing but pulls tight her lips, brows folding over her eyes. She always had worn her heart on her face, she never was good at restraint or secrets and keeping this from Louis felt so wrong. But it felt wrong, too, to tell him.

“Louis…” she breathes but searching his eyes pulls her strength.

“I’ve missed you,” she confesses. “I want to hear all about your adventures and who you’ve met, and where you’ve been, and what you’ve seen.” She sinks in beside him- though a distance kept, even if a part of her wanted to burrow into his embrace, to smell the North on him and all the places he’s been and feel a little bit of what once was home.

He's not sure what he hoped to hear after his name. Like so much else right now, it's a baffling whirlwind of unknowns and unanswereds.

And he wants to be close. To lean against her fur and feel her warmth. Not just out of infatuation; back home his kin were never shy about touch and affection. He'd been apart from it long enough to feel the absence keenly. But he won't pressure. Even with this strange distance, it's good to see her again.

Stories can be warm, too. So he tells her.

He tells her about the rugged snowcapped mountains, and the branches that flare out wildly after a storm - covered in little horns of clear frozen ice blown sideways by the furious wind. He tells her about the great turtles in the swamps that could swallow a rabbit whole and look just like rocks unless you step on them. Of a stag, great antlers melted and heavy. Of a raven, patterened in white. There's a willow tree casting shade over a river full of smooth, calico rocks. And a forest where the trunks are so covered in yellow butterflies that you can't see the bark beneath.

He talks about strangers, too. Some pretty. One handsome. All memorable. Adventures chasing prey and exploring and laughing and - yes, loving. He won't pretend it hasn't happened. But he brushes over that part, at least a little. None of them are here with him, now, it's plain to see. And haven't been for a while, it's easy to smell.

He thinks they're like the butterflies and the raven and the stag and the winter ice, they come and they go, and it's a fantasy, but it's not a forever after.

He thinks they're still good stories, regardless. He hopes Tauris likes them, too.

He regales her with his escapades abroad, recounting glittering landscapes and beautiful creatures and amusing strangers. She envisions the blue sierras with their white-flushed peaks and feels the prickle of pine needles and cold earth between her toes. Smells the butterfly woodland and hears the calm willowside brook. It’s not the first time she’s imagined what lies east of the valley but it comes to life now with Louis’ imagery.

So casually he will speak of intimate encounters and she will feign indifference before shooting him with a mock-contemptuous turn of nose.

“Well, it’s a wonder you didn’t forget about me, with all the fun you’ve had,” she pouts and crosses her paws.

“Someday, I’m gonna see that- all of it! And more,” she thumps her tail and curls her lips- but suppose a mother wouldn’t do that. She quiets.

“Where will you go next, fearless wanderer?”

Louis grins at her pouting, ears folding as his head droops down over a wide grin, "I could never forget about you." They'd met in a blizzard. She'd kissed him and laughed. And this exchange now is playful, lighthearted enough that he starts to wonder if he misread her distance, or at least the reason for it. Maybe she'd only been unsure about the abruptness of his reappearance. It didn't seem a crime to hope.

He rolls onto his belly in the grass, breathing in the scents of summer and taking in the blue of the sky up above. "I don't know what's next for me. South, maybe?" He stretches a paw upward, "Or to whatever peak looks wildest. They say there's an ocean to the West." It's honest; he really doesn't know. The world's wide with possibilities and vast expanse of solitary unknowns.

His head tilts, and he looks her way again.

She's said she has a pack. But many wolves do, and many wolves set their paws to unfamiliar earth anyhow. Her wanderlust isn't feigned. So he finds himself bold enough to suggest, "You could come with me. If you wanted. I'd be glad of the company." He smiles.

He is a dreamer. His ideas and exuberance are infectious, enough for her to crave his lifestyle, to for a moment consider the idea to blaze a path with him into parts unknown. To pick up and go each morning and lay her head down somewhere new each night. Because Tauris is a dreamer too.

When Louis’ blue eyes turn on her, she smiles and settles her head back into the lea, so in her vision he is centered over the cloudless sky above.

“It’d be a proper adventure,” she will muse with a soft brush to his shoulder. But there’s a name in her mind that won't go, and in some impossible way he fills her so fully that all others will leave her mouth. When she imagines what tomorrow looks like, he is there.

“I’ve met someone, Louis,” she admits nervously, watching him. “Two someones. I can’t leave Kvarsheim. And…” Her ears fall and she looks away. If there is hurt in his eyes, she doesn’t want to see it, especially when she at last reveals:

“I think I’m pregnant.”

He understands. He understands before the emotion fills his chest. That makes it a little easier, because there's something solid to put the feet of his mind on when the dashing of his hopes hits so much harder than he could have imagined.

His smile strains, but he stubbornly keeps it on his face, even when she's looked away and there's no chance of her seeing his courage.

Louis isn't jealous. His mind has always been filled with possibilities, though, and he wants to know how serious it is, how certain she is: if it can only be them or if there's room for another - the way Louis' parents found love. Would she reconsider? Does she have doubts?

Exploiting her isn't his intention; he just can't help but wonder if the path is really as closed as it seems to be.

She's pregnant, though. She might not be sure, but now he is. And he knows that the stability of a pack is better for pups and mothers alike than a road where tomorrow is far less certain.

If it had only been the 'someone', he might have asked if she was sure.

If it had only the life in her belly, he might have made grand promises about providing for them.

And she wants adventure, he knows she does. So even if it had only been these two things, the part of him that can never settle might have been bold enough to question. 

But it's both, and on top of it all she looks healthy here, happy. So the silence catches in his throat and he only nods, before looking back up at the sky. He's not sure if she sees that, either.

--

Quiet can't be allowed to last too long. At a certain point, careful consideration becomes reluctance and rudeness. Even a stumbling reply is more graceful than no reply at all.

"I understand." A slow inhale, and he tries to focus on the positive. "I'm glad you're happy. That's what matters."

In the gathering silence she flinches, holes in her chest are seared by anxiety and when she spins her face to him he’s holding the sky. She steers forward, lobbying to fill the space beneath his chin with the crown of her head and lulling her chest against his. And when he at last speaks she can feel the strain in his throat.

Happy? She’d felt that so rarely. But she’d brushed by it when a storm had sent her scuttling into a blue boy’s hideout. There were moments of it on the cusp of the Stone Circle with the pack at her side. And it had feathered over her when she laid in the arms of a dark stranger as they made promises to carry one another through whatever came next.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. She knows he doesn’t want to hear this but she whispers it anyway.

“It wasn’t planned,” an explanation spills, as if in some way that might allay any of the ache in his chest. This was not the life she imagined for herself. It wasn’t Fig’s either.

“He’s going to stay, and help, if...” She bites her words, refusing to speak it again. She didn’t truly understand who Fig was to her. It was something they hadn’t discussed- what roles they would play in eachothers’ lives.

“It’s crazy,” she breathes into Louis’ chest, “I barely know him. But, I am, Louis. I am happy when I’m with him.” She'd known Fig was her's, in some way she wouldn't be able to put into words.

She pulls back to stare into his eyes, to force herself to see him in full. Because in another world, she might have been happy with Louis, too.

“Does this mean… I lose you?” he already felt farther. She wasn’t ready to let him go. She never would be.

She apologizes and explains and she must know that won't change the way it feels. Louis is hurt, but that doesn't seem like her fault, or anyone else's. She doesn't owe him either answer. They'd never made any promises.

He decides he doesn't really want to stay here any longer than he has to, even if there are others in Kvarsheim who might want to disperse. He's feeling too much and needs time to let it all settle.

There's still no ill-will. He doesn't think he could ever really be angry at Tauris. Not even if she had been to blame in some way. Which she wasn't.

But losing something he'd never had makes him realize how nice it might have been, in another world. He takes a deep breath, and since she's closed the space herself, licks a gentle assurance across her nape.

And then feels the whiplash of hopeful confusion again when she asks whether she'll lose him.

Louis rolls onto his belly, head tilting. Trying to read her, because when he'd finally thought he understood, now he's not so sure.

He wishes his family was here. These were things he never thought to ask them about, and he misses his father's steady thoughtfulness now more than ever.

"I..." A thoughtful grimace. There's rules here, Louis can sense it, but he's not quite sure what they are. He can't figure out what she wants from him. Maybe there was a suave answer a sleeker wolf could have given, but instead he admits, "I don't understand." His lip twists into a sideways grin that's mostly mirthless, "Lose me to what?"

His ears droop, eyes sad. The words he's been struggling with suddenly have a voice, and he decides maybe it's better not to leave any room for doubt, "I told you once about my family -- my mother took two mates, and they all raised me together. Love for one didn't force her to give up on love for the other. If you asked me for that then -- I'd say yes." It's a little scary to admit as much. It feels like a commitment, even though he won't let himself hope too much.

He continues, glancing away, "If that's not what you're after, you won't lose me as a friend. You mean more to me than... than just a kiss and a midnight fantasy." It would feel selfish to abandon her over something so ephemeral. "But I'm not a Kvarsheim wolf... So maybe..." He huffs. The words are starting to tangle again, and he entreats, "Maybe just, help me know what you mean?"

How has all this happened? Yesterday was so simple. Today is unlivable.

Louis does not want this, in the same way she and Fig hadn’t. He wants to travel and explore and dream and enjoy fully the years and freedom given by youth, in good health and spirits and all the possibilities of the world at his pawtips. She’s a fool, but not so much to lock him into a fate he has not properly chosen for himself. Even when she imagines all the solace of his nearness, to have him close. For him to be her’s. To love him. He offers, she thinks, because a part of him believes he has to. But she does not want this for him.

She is cruel to make him believe any different, to hold him and steal his touch. Shameless. Selfish. Undeserving.

When their limbs untangle and she feels the cold where the press of his body was, her neck still dampened with his kiss, her vision softens with tears. His eyes dance between hope and confusion, all she feels too within her chest.

“Nothing can change how I care for you,” a breath, “But I want to do this- in a way that’s right for me. And I want to do it with him.”

There is a place where Louis stops and she begins. Where he cannot fit his life to her’s, and her’s to his. They’d parted that morning after the storm, and maybe that had changed the course of their lives. But Tauris didn’t think so.

Because it was always Fig. Even then.

He understood it would be a rejection after her first word. Louis kept his ears pricked all the way through nonetheless, just in case. If she didn't want him here all the time, then perhaps a little bit now and then would've been enough. He had, in a youthful flurry, imagined a life where he might have both - the freedom to travel and a lover to return to. A family and freedom alike. 

Louis never grew up feeling like anything was amiss. Confidence had been his natural state for most of his life. It's hard not to wonder now, though, at least a little bit, if there's not something wrong with him for being different.

He looks for love everywhere, and often finds it in his travels. But it melts like morning dew all the same.

In the past he's been happy to chase the next dawn, the next dewdrop of timeless pleasure and simple affections. He'd sort of imagined he'd end up like his parents, there would be an adventure, a trial, maybe some doubt. And then it'd fall into place because that was how it was meant to be.

Dreams don't seem to work that way, out here.

Or maybe more work had gone into his parents' love than he'd realized. Maybe it had never been so certain at all, it only looked that way to youthful eyes.

"I get it. And I wish you both the very best."

He meant it.

There's little else he knows to say. But leaving now would seem rude, so his feet stay planted in the soft grass and he watches her. Tries to memorize her face, the way she is now. He wonders if they'll meet again, or if the road will pull him far away and this will be a final parting. He'll dream of her and she'll think of him from time to time. Their stories will diverge, and there will be poetry in that.

It's a little melodramatic, but he nurses his wounded heart on the tragic fantasy of it nonetheless.

Can she beg him not to go? This is a desperate sensation she’d felt once before, after the storm, where a single path diverged into two and they’d each taken one and not the other. She hadn’t seen him since. What if she doesn’t get to see him again, and this is their parting memory?

It can’t be just this, though she knows asking for more is selfish. She cannot buy his time, even as her mind thinks on ways to do so, the gift of words that might anchor him here. She cannot give him what he wants- what a part of her still wants, too. And yet her lips will find the word when her voice does not: stay. It is a selfish one.

And because she is a selfish girl she will draw him into her arms and kiss the side of his face and hold him tightly, as she did when they’d first met.

But she can be kind, too. She can do that for him. He is too polite to leave her, though she understands that is what he needs. She will release him and move to offer space; time.

If her mouth opens, she knows it will be against these efforts. She says nothing.

The words on her lips could be anything.

That's not true, but Louis has come to realize -- or at least believe -- that Tauris doesn't know what she wants.

He's never been afflicted with such such indecision. For him there's the moment and the feeling and they're always earnest. Even if tomorrow they might change, it's always been in one's own paws to forge their path, and it's his wont to choose in alignment with his heart, no matter the inconvenience. Tomorrow belongs to the choices of today.

He's not angry, but he's frustrated. It hurts. She wants him but she doesn't. She'll invite him to stay but she won't form the words. She'll hold him, and kiss him, and it's almost enough to make him ask again for an answer he knows he won't get. But the most he'll do is nuzzle her back.

Her earlier answer echoes through his head again, Nothing can change how I care for you, but I want to do this- in a way that’s right for me. And I want to do it with him.

They repeat, over and over like a throbbing wound, and Louis realizes those words, more than anything, have cut him. Somehow he is not right for her, in any fashion, despite the way she feels. Despite the way they both feel. It's an alien notion.

If she'd asked him outright to join her here, and there hadn't been doubt, he'd have stayed. He'd have accepted friendship. It mattered no less than other intimacies, and he'd been honest when he told her she meant more than just a kiss. It would have been a simple question, with an easy answer, if she could have said it.

He isn't sure why she doesn't. He can't know her thoughts.

And that makes all the difference. Louis wants the same certainty he speaks with to be echoed back, if he's to consider any such invitation in earnest. There's nothing she can say or do now to assure him of conviction. And with the ache in his chest to feed it, his impulse to move on only solidifies.

He gets to his feet, and decides to free her of the dilemma. He needs the space, he knows it, and her silence leaves little else to contend with. Louis smiles again, full of affection. And takes a deep breath. "I guess... now's as good a time as any for me to go looking for that ocean."

There is his warmth, but also his hurt. She tries to find him in the dying amber light, but beneath her glazing eyes he’s a wisp of rain. It’s too late, he’s going to leave. She has to muster the words to say, even if they aren’t the right ones, before she wont have another chance.

“You are a good to me, Louis. You deserve something more than I can give. I’m sorry, for being cruel.”

Her mind leaks out of her mouth.

“Please… wherever you go. Stay safe.”

He's not sure he agrees with her. It had never been about deserving, and what he had wanted...

Louis shuts his eyes. Opens them again, tongue lolling out in a pant.

But the rules are different for Tauris, so he won't argue.

"I'd rather have your honesty than anything else." He answers, which is true, even if he's not sure he ever actually got that from her.

There's a moment where he thinks the bitterness might overwhelm him, and a creature he doesn't recognize inside himself growls and snaps in his chest. 

But he doesn't want to be that kind of wolf. And he loves Tauris, even if she's hurt him. He thinks that love matters most of all. It's stronger than the worse feelings, even if it's quieter.

So he ducks into a play-bow instead, and hopes the tear brimming in his eye goes unnoticed. "Chase me to the border?"

She won't refuse him that, at least. He hopes.

The truth is that she was overwhelmed by how quickly her life was changing.
That she is terrified by the idea that her pups would bear the multitude of her mistakes.
That Louis is a piece of home, a comfort she wasn’t ready to surrender.
That Fig inhabits all of her senses. 

Is she allowed to feel this all at once? Does it make her dishonest? Is it what he wants to hear?

She wishes instead to make a promise- that she will not let him die even if they are not soon again to meet, that she will value him always. So once she’s trailed him to the edge of the rippling veld she’ll break into pant and settle her paws at the cusp of land where again their paths will split.

“Louis!” She’ll call after his departing silhouette, “Not knowing you is impossible to me.” With her silver eyes she casts him a smile, then sets forth a vigorous howl. It’s a farewell, it’s a promise to not forget him.

He'll fade to a dark silhouette in the sunset, off on his next adventure. But unlike all the drifters in the stories, he'll stop and look back when she calls -- and he'll offer a high, heartfelt squall of a howl in answer.