Moonsong Glacier Snowdrops

Simbelmyne had found herself growing restless. Not knowing what it might mean, she spent some time roving between Morningsong and Moonglow- never completing the journey as doubt would creep in, and send her back toward the glacier.

She wanted to speak to Kukutux again; to learn more, and to understand exactly how it was that she was feeling now that her First Rites had been completed, and yet she still seemed to have no prospects. She felt her self-worth disintegrate.

She returned to Morningsong after a short trip, only to notice that there were fewer scents in the area. She frowned; dwindling numbers were an indication of a fraying pack. She might have been partially to blame- she hadn’t truly forged a connection with anyone other than Dutch…

She was failing, on her own. She couldn’t even say now that she was being overshadowed by her beautiful sisters now. She had few friends, no beau, and nothing to show but the fading red dye that was almost completely worn off her paws.

The panther moved with new purpose, gathering together all the things he did not want to leave behind. Pelts, mainly, and gifts for the seal hunters, and the talisman that Alaric had given him.

It was the poison that he searched out, now, following his memory to the tree where it was hidden. He paused, though, when a familiar scent came to him on the breeze. He'd caught it many times in recent memory, but not so close as this. A fierce pang shot through his chest, and he abandoned his quest to seek out Simbelmyne instead.

"Simbelmyne," he hailed her, quickening his pace when he finally caught sight of her. He had forgotten how pretty she was — or perhaps just the strange, fey quality of her beauty. He was speechless for a long moment, his mind a tumult of plans and desires and slow-dawning realization.

She heard her name called, and turned with girlish hope shimmering in her doleful eyes for a moment when she caught sight Dutch. He was the reason she had come here- and while he had made his wants known, he had made it clear that he had no plans on taking her for a wife. 

No suitors had come singing for her, either. None with dancing feet or gifts- none had even come to give her a sidelong glance, save perhaps for Hototo who had disappeared along with the others. 

She hid her hurt, and gave him a meek bob of her head, waving her tail so he might know that she accepted his company- and hoping that he might also see and understand the wistfulness of her gaze.

Dutch was quiet even as he drew near, caught up in her eyes for a long moment. He had not done well by her — or by anyone else, in his estimation. But her reserved demeanor was a reminder of all that he had promised, and all that he had failed to provide.

He touched his nose to her cheek in greeting.

"It is good to see your face," he said, his own tail waving in confirmation of this fact. His expression showed, however, that there was much more on his mind. His burnished gaze flicked back and forth over her face, searching for something he could not name. He knew, though, that he could feel the steady shift of the stars like eyes on the back of his neck.

"I am done, I think, being chief in this place," he told her, casting his gaze to their paws when it became too hard to keep looking at her pretty face. "It has not brought me happiness. I do not think it has brought anyone happiness."

The words were free of bitterness, and there were only traces of shame and sadness in the pensive set of his features. He watched her again, though, and his eyes tightened a fraction in concern.

"And I have not been a very good friend to you," he told her. "But I would like to be better now. I would like to do many things differently."

His voice was quiet and imploring when he asked her, "Tell me how you are."

Like dewdrops gathering on a blade of grass, the moisture in her eyes collected as he drew near so when he touched her cheek, she tilted her jaw so the tear could roll down the far cheek- brushed away a moment later against his bristly guard hairs. 

She saw in his eyes the story of regret, she thought; on an apology that came without the necessity of words. In hers shone forgiveness, but resignation as well. The admission that she felt she was ailing in this life, living without a true purpose. 

When he spoke, she felt for him. The pack he had joined, which had thrust him into leadership, was no longer home for him, either. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings, but she couldn’t help but agree in part, if only on her own behalf. ”It is not your fault,” She said softly, her words featherlight, but earnest. 

He pledged to be better, and she ushered a tiny smile to her lips. She needed a friend, regardless of the fact that she desired much more than that. Even just having a solid friendship might bring her more purpose, though she knew she might struggle to smother her instincts and feelings some day. 

Her lashes fluttered as if to reflect her own inner turmoil. ”I feel…Lost,” She admitted. ”It is not your fault, it is…My own doing, I think. I had hoped so, that my life might immediately become what it was I desired, but perhaps I…Perhaps I have dreamt too big, beyond my reach.” Failure, she thought, was too strong of a word- but nevertheless it smothered her happiness. 

When she looked at him and considered what he had confided in her, she wondered if he felt the same. ”How do you feel?” She dared to know the truth.

The panther was a good listener, even if he was a much better speaker. The look in her eyes sobered him further, and his expression was calm and grave while he turned her words over in his mind.

She asked after his own mind before he'd put his thoughts together, and his eyes were clouded momentarily with thoughts of both their situations.

"I feel foolish," he admitted after that beat of preoccupation. "But hopeful. Foolishness can be cured."

He had more to say, but he had finally processed the thoughts and feelings she'd shared with him, and so he spoke on that instead.

"I do not think your dreams are too big," he told her, his expression serious once more. "They have not yet come to pass — but you are on the path, Simbelmyne. Happiness does not come only in the culmination of dreams. We must find it too along our paths."

He looked toward the coast, though he could not see it from where they stood.

"I think," he said, and then he stopped, his ears flying back. Eventually, though, his burnished gaze cut back to her face. "I think that I should have tried harder," he told her. "Many things got in the way, but there is a part of me — a part that has been reluctant to see you with another man. Even knowing I could not be all that you dreamed of."

He had hope- evidently, more than she had. Enough for them both, perhaps, though she could not summon her hopes to the pitching mound, even when the look in his face inspired her to try. 

Yet again, he toyed with her, flustering her with questions. Her cheeks boiled with heat. ”If you think so highly of me- then why will you not give us a chance?” She asked. ”We could both have what we want if only-“ She shook her head. ”Either you want me, or you do not.” She uttered. ”If you do, then I am yours. It would save you from seeing me with another, and I would be a good wife, I promise,” She felt as if she was begging- and wasn’t sure how she would fall if he turned her down now.

The panther was conflicted; the matter seemed far more complex than wanting or not wanting — but perhaps it was his own perception that was skewed, and Simbelmyne had the right of it. Either way, he took her words with a tiny tuck of his chin.

"You would make a good wife," he agreed, an uncharacteristic shred of insecurity making his voice small. "I worry more that I would make a poor husband. These past months especially, I have felt... weak. I am capable of caring for myself, but others... it has been daunting. I've been a rover for so many years."

He searched her eyes again, wondering if this made any more sense to her than it did to him. And did she think less of him now, knowing that he doubted himself?

"I want to see you taken care of," he told her, "and I thought that someone else could do it better."

Thought, past tense. This was what his tone suggested, anyway. In truth, he did have another man in mind — only not as an alternative so much as an addition.

"But I am bringing my father and Sulukinak to Moontide," he went on. "We will live amongst the seal hunters. I will raise my family alongside his, and we will be strong enough together — all of us — to care for one another."

He knew this; the knowledge burned like a bonfire in his heart and shone through his lamplike eyes.

"And I would make you very, very happy," he vowed. "If you would still be mine."

She had dreamt too big yet again- she felt certain of it. Her heart beat like a Mahler hammer against her ribs, so loudly that she feared he might be able to hear her pulse. She swallowed and forced herself to read his expression for any sign of anguish; surely, it would pain him to turn her away. 

She would make a good wife but-

She waited for the shoe to drop. 

but
 
It didn’t drop. 

Instead, she heard his worries, and quickly shook her head to dispel them. She listened; he had not finished speaking and she dared not interrupt lest she steer him from his train of thoughts, and run him off the rails. 

He had only the best intentions for her- and the use of past tense was not lost on her. She felt a surge of security, like a fledgling landing safely back on the branch after its first few experimental wingbeats. He had said he might try to change- could it possibly mean-

but.

And there it was. The branch beneath the fledgling dipped and shook, as if to shake the little bird off. She calmed herself as he spoke of his father, so Sulukinak. Her ears pricked at the mention of going to Moontide- and raising a family.

Momentarily confused she leaned back as if to bring his face into focus so she could read every line, every crease, and see her own reflection in the glow of his eyes, wreathed by the bright iris. They warmed- and he gave her, at last, the vow she sought. 

She uttered a strangled sound and unleashed herself from her restraint. With each kiss she promised to love him, each nuzzle she vowed to hold him through whatever they came to face. She whispered her acceptance into his ears and felt her body flare with warmth to know that at last- she would have him. 

”Be mine.” She pleaded hoarsely into the depths of his thick fur, clinging tightly to him now, her heart still hammering as she pressed her chest to his.

The panther caught her in his embrace, his own heart suddenly pounding. There was a fizzling sense of dissonance he was too distracted to examine — but he had not expected her to be so wholeheartedly in agreement.

Me? a small voice asked, somewhere in the back of his mind. Are you sure?

He held tight, hardly daring to breathe lest he break this moment. How could it last? It couldn't be so simple, could it? Was there some trick around the corner? Oh, not one laid by Simbelmyne! He knew her heart to be true and kind. But one laid by the universe, which always seemed to laugh at the expense of others.

"If you will be happy, I will," he said, "If you will be happy — with the seal hunters. Chakliux, and his wives, and their children. With Sulukinak."

He drew back enough to search her face again, hope held back through great effort, like a mustang pulling at the end of a lead.

"If this is what you want, I will give it to you," he told her. "And there will be babies, and kisses, and laughter — in excess, all the days of our lives."

He wanted very badly to give her these things — but he could not help thinking of his mother. She would not have been charmed by the life he offered to Simbelmyne. His mother had never shown interest in anything men had to offer her, and he knew it was because of his father, whose blood ran through his veins. Would he be good enough for Simbelmyne?

Excitement tempered whatever anxiety might have spiked, to be making such a life-altering decision so suddenly. Moments ago, she had admitted how lost she had felt- and now, Dutch was offering to be her husband at last. 

A small voice asked her if perhaps she should have waited, to find someone who would want her reckless abandon. It asked her how willing she truly was to share her life with others, to share him with others if he asked her to. It asked her if she still thought at all about Chakliux and his brilliant magenta eyes. 

But she was holding Dutch- and she felt in that moment that he was enough. He promised everything she wanted, albeit with some conditions but she felt ready to move and live among the seal hunters. She felt certain she could accept Sulukinak and Aditya coming with them. The mention of Sulukinak’s name did not spark any other thoughts, or concerns. What she did not know did not wound her yet. 

”We will both be happy,” She promised him. ”With the seal hunters,” She said, her heart rejoicing at the notion of living with a full pack again. ”And with babies of our own,” Her restlessness was something she knew well enough- and now, she would no longer have to fear that her time might come and pass with no one to father her children. ”Take me as your wife, give me your name,” She said, leaning her weight against his chest, ready to take everything he might have to offer her.

He watched her a moment longer, his lips parted as if he might utter more warnings — but he had no more for her. His fears had been aired, and Simbelmyne seemed to think them unfounded. It still felt, somehow, too good to be true. His life would change so quickly from lonesome leadership to close quarters with Chakliux and his wives, and their children! Children who were surely born, now.

And, one day soon, children who would call him Papa.

The panther's tail spun. His eyes shone. His heart skipped. Suddenly, he laughed, and he swept Simbelmyne up again and covered her face in kisses.

"I will give you everything there is to want," he promised her, still starry-eyed. "Simbelmyne Morningside."

He liked the sound of that. And it was his name he was giving her, but this gift came with a sudden shift, and a surge of feeling that took him entirely by surprise. It was a kind of possessiveness he had never felt before. A kind that felt right as it sank deep into his bones.

She was his.