Hoshor Plains kivva ⥈

set before hunts start! <3

the closeness between @Vairë and @Valiant was something kukutux only allowed herself to observe once, glimpsing how each of them watched one another as the surge of wolves moved about them.

had her daughter's eyes been so light? had she ever seen valiant offer so many smiles?

yet after this, the duck turned away, sharing words with those who entered her camp or passed.

it amused her that she had not introduced the two, that she had only held a name in her mind for the spine-man on the suggestion of his brother dutch.

but he had already met her moondoe before this.

and now!

her eyes were alight as she finally paused in her work to seek out @Maia, bringing a speckled foxfur as a show of goodwill. they would speak as mothers.

Maia was entirely out of her element from the moment she stepped into the hunt. She’d thought it would be a straightforward gathering, a few packs coming together, purely for the chance to bring down something larger. Instead it was vastly larger and some had even set camps. The lead had handed out roles and Maia internally kicked herself for telling Sylvie that it would only be a hunt. Her daughter could have joined the healers or the caretakers and met new friends by doing so.

This used to be her element, and for the first time in a while, Maia felt old and out of touch. Years ago she’d have known every pack around and have made trips to exchange stories with each. Now she could barely keep their names straight.

Chickadee had invited her to the Moonglow camp, but Maia had politely declined, having already decided that she would help in the hunt as best she could. She had no skill in healing like her mate. And the very last thing she wanted to do was sit uselessly while the other packs took down the prize. If Brecheliant wasn’t well represented, what did that say?

Maybe she was avoiding too. She still hadn’t worked out her feelings. So she laughed and enjoyed her daughter’s company when it came, but made no move to leave the company of the others until a stranger came and requested a word.

Maia could guess immediately who it was. Kukutux. She’d heard enough about the woman, first from Wraen and Arcturus, then from Chickadee. It was like meeting a character from her own stories. Maia’s stomach curled with a feeling of self-conscious insignificance, and she swallowed as she moved to a more private distance so they could speak.

You’re… Kukutux? Sorry I haven’t come to meet you sooner, I just… haven’t had time, since hearing the news. She hadn’t brought a gift either. God, no wonder Chickadee hadn’t involved her family much in the wedding. Three… four?… packs and more gifts than Brecheliant could ever return. Maia felt her pelt heat up with shame, but she somehow managed to keep a smile.

moonmother came to sit alongside maia, turning her springjade eyes upon the groups of hunters and the bison themselves. "do not worry. today we were meant to meet."

she could not read this woman well and saw that they had both learned to mask themselves. with one paw she slid the hide upon the ground before maia. "it is something for your den or your shoulders," and quiet voice was warm with kindness.

"i have the want to say that your daughter chickadee has made herself welcome among us. my youngest sons are becoming men now. she guided them at the end of their childhoods."

it was sweetly bitter to think of this, even as the duck's worry grew for the two sons who had not yet come back.

"kivaluk has much adoration for her. he is a careful man. he hardly allowed himself to be a boy. i do not think i have seen so much joy on his face before, only when he looks at your blackthorn daughter."

She was lovely and soft spoken.  But Maia couldn’t shake the things that Wraen had said, a long time ago, and despite the years that her sister had been gone, she still found it hard to like the woman who had caused her so much heartache at the time.  Her sister wasn’t easily upset, but what had happened with Moonspear had forced her from Redhawk Caldera.  It had forced Maia to choose between her sister and Eljay.  It had forced Eljay to choose between her and his family and home.

Kukutux had no reason to know.  And she had no reason to bring it up.  Not now that it was done.

She’s happy too.  Maia said softly, disguising the sudden lump in her throat.  So many of her children were no longer home, but for some reason, this felt so much harder than the others.  Chickadee was the little girl who came to her when she needed broken things mended.  But at some point, she’d learned that her mother couldn’t fix things the way she needed.  Things changed.  Maia couldn’t help but blame herself, even though she knew it was stupid to think things would ever stay the same.


Does she talk to you now, when she’s upset?  Do you hold her when she’s scared?  Or is that your son’s job now?

I’m sorry.  I can’t… you’ve been too generous already.  She looked down uncomfortably, unwilling to vocally admit that Brecheliant did not have the ability to return these favors.  They had the resources to feed themselves, but lacked experienced hunters.  Maia was here in part to learn so that she could better teach, but she was no hunter.  She’d never wanted to be one.  All I want is for Chickadee to be happy, and safe, and she is.  You’ve done enough.

"there is no end to giving things between a family," kukutux said softly.

something was amiss in maia. it sat between them.

and moonmother remembered the day of her fiercest cruelty, and how even this marriage could not bind past what she had said.

taboos broken were taboos punished.

a breath. "chickadee is happy. but she will need her mother for what comes next. i have done what i can, but she is yours."

her eyes shone. "help me to plan their wedding. i wish for both villages to be seen in their binding."

she felt that her gestures were not received. but this did not move kukutux, who had upon her heart in this moment a thousand things to balance.

her heart held warmth for maia.

More and more kindness. Maia could hear Eljay’s voice in her ear and wishes she was as good and as forgiving as her husband. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t forgive or forget what had been done, even if she resolved not to let that affect her daughter’s relationship with her new family. Maia would always know that behind this woman’s kind eyes lay the cruelty to call for Wraen’s death - all because Arcturus had chosen a different life.

She isn’t mine. She’ll always be my daughter, but I haven’t been the one she has needed for a long time. You might do things differently in the Moon packs, but most of my children have chosen their own paths and left home. I would never try to stop them from doing that, and because of that, I trust them to come home when they need me. If Chickadee wants me to be a part of this, I will be. But I won’t do it for you.

Maia stood, her stomach clenched nervously. Still, her voice was firm as she delivered this, and it didn’t waver as she continued. I’m glad that my daughter is happy. And I’m glad that she respects you, and seems to love you as well. I won’t teach my children to feel any differently. But I know better. Don’t ask me to lie to you.

She had no interest in taking her gift. She had no interest, suddenly, in listening to the other woman’s attempts to sooth her hurt. She had no right to pity Maia. It was true that Kukutux seemed the image of the perfect mother - packs full of her children, all rotating around a matriarch who commanded an absurd amount of loyalty and adoration. And it was true that Maia had made more mistakes than anyone who wished to call themselves a “good mother” could afford. But she didn’t need to be coddled.

Chickadee deserved to choose for herself. Maia would not allow Kukutux to assume her daughter’s wants, not even for her own benefit.

it was an embarrassment for kukutux, who tensed alongside maia but slowly set her gaze elsewhere. maia's tone held the fury that men perhaps could not glimpse; rational, poised, fair, and utterly scathing.

brecheliant had not forgotten. its children only had short memories.

but in this the same greensnake raised its head within the duck. she had become mother to many who shared her ways for she practiced them in all places and adopted others into her rites. she would not have allowed her own to forget such a slight. maia would forego her status in this wedding on the unstated word of a young girl too besotted by her man to notice a thing amiss.

bronte had come to ask for medicinal practice. maia declined her gifts. pride did nothing if there was only emptiness behind. 

this overture had been for chickadee and kivaluk. her shame faded behind resignation that moonglow and brecheliant were again very different, and with those who remembered her own rage, there would be no forgiveness.

so it must be.

she would set chickadee's bride-price, and she would seen it paid all the same to the hearth of the blackthorns. 

perhaps it was to be that the young pair belonged neither in the spine nor the caldera. she thought of ariadne who would surely become a mother in this next time, and how such children might affect kivaluk.

would he bear to watch them grow beneath the watchful attentiveness of a man who had abandoned him?

she too stood, swinging the hide around her own shoulders.

"may your hunting be safe, maia," she murmured for the ears only of the brecheliant woman. 

but her jadestone gaze was a pierce of light. chickadee's mother would pluck her own self away as if she was a pinfeather, and for pride. coldly; why would a girl call for something she did not need? maia waited for her children to come home. kukutux went of her own accord to bring them back. 

it was a bad choice. but she could lay no more judgement in her wounding. maia had struck her mark all the same, and kukutux moved off, back toward moonglow camp with a heavier heart and a more pensive mind, to contemplate the still-brilliant fire of those remembered words.

the sharp thrust of her deepest guilt silenced the duck for a long while.

She couldn’t take the words back.  Stubbornly, she didn’t want to.  They weren’t the careful diplomacy that a proper Auspex would maintain, and Maia knew it was idiotic to insult the woman who held all of their nearest neighbors in her influence.  She just couldn’t bring herself to care.

Wraen had been the best thing in her life.  Eljay was the second.  This woman had almost cost her both.  Maia wouldn’t let her grudge spread beyond the two of them, but of all of the mountain wolves, they didn’t need to get along.  She simply wasn’t a big enough person to let it go; not even for her daughter’s sake.

Another failure.  Her kids really did deserve better than her.

Maia watched her go bitterly, then turned and moved in the opposite direction.  She needed to cry and did not want anyone to see it, least of all Chickadee.  Her daughter was in the moon matriarch’s clutches now, and if she wasn’t lost yet, she’d likely begin to disappear in the years that followed.  It appeared that things hadn’t changed.  Her heart broke to think that her daughter might share Arcturus’s fate, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.  She was in love; Maia had no right to interfere.

At least Chickadee had Dwin looking out for her.  A sister could be worth a dozen mothers.

By the time Maia returned to the others, she’d have composed herself.  She’d wave off any questions - she wanted to talk to Eljay about this first.  He was the only one who knew enough to understand.