Moonsong Glacier prashna

his son and company had returned from moontide. he sought @Dutch out now, feeling a little more of a spring in his step. it had been slightly warmer, which helped his joints a great deal.

still, adi stuck to the flatter, more maneuverable parts of the glacier, taking care to remain on the packed snow and not find his way onto sheet ice.

he howled for arjun, tail wagging behind him. he was interested to hear of the journey and the news they'd brought—and what news they subsequently had brought back with them. eager to digest.

once an ambassador, always an ambassador—even if the body lagged behind.

व्यशेम देवहितम् यदायुः।
स्वस्ति न इन्द्रो वृद्धश्रवाः।
स्वस्ति नः पूषा विश्ववेदाः।

set during the day, a little earlier today 2/23 — if you have time! <3

Dutch felt rejuvenated on his return from Moontide, even if he still felt the seal hunter's absence keenly. In this way, it was far easier to exist upon the glacier, where reminders of the man were relatively few, and where the distractions were many and pressing.

"Adi," he barked as he drew near, answering his father's call. He looked better — a fact which relieved the panther to no end. Although he'd been enjoying the weather, he had prayed often for warmth to return to the land. It was heartening to see that it could return strength to Aditya's bones.

"You're looking well," he said with a swish of his tail. He did not say, How are you feeling? — but the question was implied by his tone.

he broke into a smile upon his son's arrival, coming close to greet him, rubbing muzzle respectfully along the other's jowl and cheek. 

i am feeling well, he admitted, stepping back.

adi tilted his head, then, and asked, how was your trip?

Aditya's companionship was something Dutch had not expected to appreciate so much. He had always craved the man's esteem and attention, and he had always been pleased and grateful when it was directed his way. But those visits had always felt so temporary, and only now, living alongside the man, did the panther begin to realize how much time they had lost.

And he was angry, just a little, at his father's part in this fact.

In that moment, he was only happy to see his father still whole and hale. As a result, his own nuzzle edged toward aggressively affectionate rather than respectful — but as much as he had been raised to love and accept the man and all his flaws, respecting Aditya had never been part of the curriculum.

"I am glad that I went," he replied. A smile that was almost bashful flickered across his muzzle as he went on, "Tullik and Marina have grown round. I hear a symphony of heartbeats when I put my ear to their bellies."

His anticipation was apparent. Less so, but still present, was an uneasiness he preferred not to name. But he spoke on it, quietly, just between them:

"It was hard to leave."

his own face brightened and glowed at the description, remembering that moment manyfold. dawn, easy, tytonidae. . . 

he quietly celebrated them, as he celebrated marina and tullik now.

i understand, aditya murmured, eyes soft. to be torn between love and duty—although, i guess, that is duty there, too. 

a thought occurred to him, and he tilted his head, unsure if they'd discussed it before. do you know for sure they are yours? he asked. not that it matters—but you'd mentioned their husband. . .

so there would be a man there to care for them, at least.

(not like they needed it. adi knew full well women were capable—and probably better off—raising their brood without the assistance from fathers.)

The panther's head dipped in glum agreement; he had never felt confliction quite like this before. He had never before wanted things quite like he did right then.

Aditya's words made his ears ping to the top of his head, and his gaze snapped back to the man, startled. He turned their last conversation on the topic over in his mind, embarrassed, somehow, by the implication of Aditya's words. An implication he couldn't quite place, but one he was quick to squash all the same.

"They are his, of course," he said with gentle insistence. "But he is mine." A pause. "My friend." The word sat uneasily on his tongue. A beat later, he was compelled to clarify: "My very good friend."

Nah. Still not quite right.