Moonspear [m] tabula rasa

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: might be sexytime idk. this is not what i envisioned for this thread lmao.

assuming pauk is gone since i haven't heard back on anything?

Sialuk had not been herself ever since @Pauk had disappeared. She felt like a husk of herself with them gone, as if the entire world had fallen into darkness. @Treepie and @Kaujimaq did their best to soothe her and keep the mood cheerful, and the Ostrega would do her best to smile, but at the end of the day, the loss of a child was too much for even them to lift her from. @Elentari and @Alaric were there—steady presences in her life—but she had no room for intimacy. Just as had happened when she was young, the dark cloud loomed over her.

She had gotten to know @Killdeer a bit more than before, taking time to converse with him and wishing she was not in such a state of pure grief that she could give him more than this version of herself.

Sialuk had withdrawn, and Killdeer had given her space. Today, though, he decided to approach the silvery woman, giving a gentle chuff before interrupting what was certainly grief and worry stirring in her heart and mind.

Hey, there, Killer said, giving her a gentle smile. Just wanted to check in on you. Anything I can do to help?

One of her young sons had vanished. He'd only been a little older when he and Caracal had dispersed, and so he finally felt the fear and pain his mother must have felt radiating off Moonspear's fearless leader. He sat close, happy to talk if she wanted,

Or to sit quietly if she needed a friend,

Or to fuck off if she wanted none of it.

Killdeer's words were gentle and careful, just as she had come to know him. She wished that they had gotten to know one another under better circumstances, but things were what they were. Neither of them could change that, although Sialuk did wish to make more of an effort to come out of her shell. Pauk was not coming home, and this was the lot she had been given. The bones offered no real solution except to say she should wait for his return. That was as much as she could do. Killdeer was here now, and Sialuk bid herself to focus on those that were present, rather than linger on those she had lost.

Will you come sit? she asked, motioning to an available space beside her. She searched for things to prompt him into conversation, settling upon one at last. Can you tell me a story from your childhood? she asked.

Yeah, he replied warmly, settling down at the spot just beside her. He drew a deep breath before addressing her question, which. . .wasn't incredibly loaded, but still brought to mind the fractured relationship of Fennec and Bronco.

My cousin—well, my uncle, but he wasn't much older than me—uh, my bro Caracal first taught me curse words, Killdeer rambled, unable to resist a grin. He was everything to me. We went exploring when I was still pretty young. And I'll never forget him.

He looked over at Sialuk. Did you have anyone like that? Killer asked her, canting his head.

Caracal seemed one of a kind and out of this world—but maybe there was an analog for him somewhere, sometime.

Sialuk smiled. She remembered the uncle-cousin's face well, how he had spent time upon the spear when it was being reborn. He'd sprained an ankle, and there was a time when the moon daughter had thought he might become one of her lovers. Ah, but he had eyes only for Heda, and it was to the island he had gone to seek her hand, not Sialuk's. She knew now that he had gone to the dancing lights some time after his children were born.

I remember him well, she said, a sadness to her smile that he was not still on this earth.

When Killdeer asked if she had anyone similar, she paused to think. My mother, she replied after a time. Kukutux had been there through everything. She was Sialuk's friend and confidant, and she was always there to offer advice at the right time for the right situation. It pained the Ostrega to know that—one day—anaa too would go to the island of the dancing lights. Perhaps a visit with her mother was what would lift her spirits.

You were his first love, I think, Killdeer teased, grinning. I was so jealous of him. It was true—the fact that Caracal had charmed the beautiful silver woman had been a pain point up until the moment of their tryst in the forest.

Now, Cal was gone, and he was here. Not that it made him feel better. He'd rather the three of them still be together, alive and well—even if the pups here were his uncle's and not his own.

Your mother is a great woman, he replied warmly, happy to seize upon a thread of conversation that didn't involve what could have been. Tell me more about her. She seems to know everyone and everything around these parts.

It was strange to hear those words coming from some other woman's deceased husband. Sialuk was not quite sure what to make of it except that the young Redhawk's life had ended too soon. He'd had so many children to care for, and now they were without a father. At least, she thought, her own children would never be fatherless. Not only did they have Killdeer, but they had Alaric as well. And though Maggak and Acrux had been close to Argent, Sialuk hoped they had not felt a total loss when he had left them for his new wife.

She is, Sialuk agreed. Kukutux is wise and kind, but there is a fierce streak in her I have seen before. She loves her children and grandchildren, and she has a way of making everyone around her feel at ease. Anaa had been there for Sialuk through thick and thin, just as a mother should. The Head could only hope that her own children would feel the same, whether they were here or not. When any of her children returned, Sialuk knew she would welcome them with open arms, no matter their reason for leaving the spear.

Are you your mother's only child? Sialuk asked. It had been some time since she had seen Fennec, though the blind witch would always captivate her.

Mothers needed to have a fierce streak, he thought. How else could they protect their children? Especially ones like Sialuk or Fennec, without a stable mate to back them up. He remembered all too well Bronco's absence throughout much of his childhood. . .

And then Sia brought up his mother.

I am, he said, nodding. I don't know if she ever wanted more kids— Or wants more, he thought, and then he remembered, with a bolt to the heart, what Towhee had told him.

Do you want me to look for Pauk? Killdeer asked, turning a soft stare upon Sialuk. Towhee told me Fennec is missing, and then Pauk went off, too, and I— I'd like to look for both of them, if you're okay with it. If it would make you feel more at ease.

If I find him. Alive or dead. At least there would be answers.

Not to mention, what he'd find on the Fennec front. . .

Just let me know, he murmured.

Killdeer spoke of his mother, a flash of some memory bolting across his face before he asked, then offered to look for both Fennec and Pauk. So many times, Sialuk had stood aside and let others—no, encouraged others—to do what they wished with their lives. She had always been selfless, wanting everyone else to find happiness, fulfillment, and purpose. For the first time, something pulled her in the other direction.

So many have left, she admitted, First Maggak and Acrux, then their father, then Pauk. Now Fennec, too. Only Argent had truly said goodbye, and his departure had been anything but welcome. She did not wish that he had stayed here, unhappy, but she did wish that he had been happy here.

It is selfish, but... will you stay? she asked, her eyes meeting Killdeer's. She wanted to close the gap between them, but she hesitated.

The hurt in her face spoke louder than words ever could. He nodded solemnly at her request, and then closed a bit of the gap himself. If she'd allow, he'd give her a small lick under the chin—a gesture from subordinate to alpha.

Or perhaps something more.

I'll stay, Killdeer promised. I'm not going anywhere.

Fennec could take care of herself out there. He'd keep thinking of her, wishing for her safety—as he would for Pauk—but his place was here. 

I'm sorry you've had to deal with all of this, he told her, pulling back again.

His gesture was welcomed, though she yearned for more. Sialuk didn't voice it, but there was a part of her that wanted to give herself over to more simple pleasures to forget her worries—if only for a time. Killdeer would stay in village Moonspear, though he began to pull away from her, extending an apology, as if he was responsible for any of it.

Sialuk had been starved of physical, romantic attention for months now, since the children had been born. Even Elentari seemed distant in that regard. She wrapped a foreleg around his own, hoping to pull him back toward her.

I wish the dark cloud to go away, she said, her voice more desperate than she wished it to be. So much in her life had been sorrow. There had been a time of peace, a time of light and love, but that felt brief compared to all the tragedy she had felt. Couldn't Killdeer be a new era?

He'd half expected her to pull away from his embrace. He had not expected her to return it, and pull him closer.

Their intimacy had been short and sweet, a brief time shared in the depth of her heat this past midwinter. Now, though, he felt that same kind of stirring—driven by emotion, not just instinct.

Me too, Killdeer said softly. Slowly, he placed his cheek against hers, breathing in the smell of her pelt at the nape of her neck. The same neck he'd seized when. . .

I can help, he went on, closing his eyes. Or at least, I can try. Tell me how I can help.

She had not expected their conversation to go this way, and yet she did not halt it. Instead, she wordlessly beckoned him into the ulaq to warm her bed. The others were away for now, and she felt her heart quicken. Sialuk knew this moment would not erase the grief of losing so many to the wind, but perhaps the distraction would be good for her spirit.

Around them lay her many treasures. Her sacred bones from Sixsix, a doe pelt she had made upon claiming the spear as her own, the shell that Sobeille had gifted her. And there were the painful reminders of Argent: a goat skull, a red fox pelt, a large elk hide, and three skins from otters. His gifts had been moved out of the way ever since he had left the spear for the final time. Sialuk could barely stand to look at them these days.

Right now, she had eyes only for Killdeer as she drank him in the dim light of the cave.

He'd never known anything like this. Was this how it had been when Caracal found Heda? Had they shared this same kind of connection, a kind of electricity in the air like the sense of lightning before a storm?

Was that ozone he smelled, or just her yearning and sorrow, wild and unchecked?

She looked at him, and Killdeer took her into his arms. He wasn't sure if he was capable of being the sun to dash away her dark cloud—but he sure as hell would do his best.

Thank you for letting me love you, he said on impulse, muttering the words against her neck. 

He was ready to go further; all he needed was her plea—or command. Either one, he'd follow in earnest.

fade to black and cont.? fade? up to you!

Sialuk could not say the word back to him, not now, but she knew that she was an easy mark when it came to love. Giving and receiving love in her heart had always come so naturally to her. Since Argent had gone, she had felt it more difficult to do so. If she gave that part of herself to Killdeer, would he not find somebody new, somebody who would love only him.

She remembered with some embarrassment and horror that their previous sexual encounter had been... less than fulfilling on her end. But she had invited him here, and she did need the distraction. Perhaps she could be more instructive in how to properly love a woman. This time, the star gently guided him with her words on what did—and didn't—bring her pleasure. The process was a smidge awkward at first, but the final result was much, much more enjoyable than their initial rendezvous.

More than once, Sialuk caught herself staring daggers into the gifts that Argent had left behind. Deep down, she knew it was unfair to Killdeer to think of another man while they warmed one another's bodies, but a part of her wished that Argent could feel the pain of what he was missing.

As her breathing slowed, sprawled on the doe skin that had become worn with age, she traced a front paw down Killdeer's chest. She smiled like a young girl again, then sighed. For now, she was content. For now, she could rest her eyes and forget about her sorrows.

It was better, this time. Last time around had been a bit awkward—and afterward, Sialuk had told him she had other lovers.

He opened his mouth to ask—is there anyone else?—but closed it upon seeing the contented look upon her face. 

No. This wasn't about him. He didn't want to disturb her peace.

Instead, Killdeer pressed a kiss into her perfect silver forehead and lay with her until she drifted off (or until she told him to go). He found comfort in her steady breathing and the warmth and musk that filled the ulaq.

He enjoyed the moment while he still had it. This was enough, for now.

She wanted let herself succumb to sleep, but something kept her from the dream world. There was something she did not know, but wished to know, about Killdeer. Something she likely should have investigated before she had brought him to her bed, but she had been selfish, and so she had not. The starwoman had wanted Killdeer for herself—at least for now—but she knew there was a question bubbling to the surface.

Sialuk propped herself up on one elbow to get a better look at him.

With Moonshadow, do you still...? she trailed off. The other woman was the mother of four of his children, all of which were his, from what the starwoman knew.

He was beyond content in her arms. So much so that, when she spoke, it took him a few moments to understood exactly what she was asking him.

Moonshadow? Killdeer asked, a bit blankly. He shook his head, slowly at first, then quicker as it sunk in. No, I—not since that first time. The only time, he added for emphasis.

He looked at her, golden eyes guileless. I was going to ask you something similar, Sialuk, he murmured. I didn't want to ruin the moment, though. But, since you said it first—what about you? Am I the only one since you've had the kids?

They weren't exclusive; he couldn't demand that from her. He wouldn't. But if she was going to make a point to question him, then he would, too.

Just to know.

Sialuk was not sure if she found the information troubling or validating. Perhaps some mixture of both. Her eyes danced to the small bones in the corner, already conjuring a dozen questions to present to them when she had time alone. When the question came back to her, she felt an urge to vacate the ulaq and run for a very long time. Her muscles tensed, but she did not move from where she lay. It felt as though Argent was there all over again, telling her she was not enough. Not only not enough, but that he did not want her. That he did not want the family they had made together.

She swallowed.

Elentari has been my lover for many seasons, Sialuk explained. She has a lover in Alaric, too.

Just Elentari. He was familiar with her on some level; they'd patrolled and hunted together as members of Moonspear. He knew Alaric, too, and their children.

But no other man, besides me, Killdeer concluded. Right?

He'd like to say it didn't matter. Love was love was love. Deep down, he believed that. But only a man could give Sialuk children from her own womb. If there was another guy. . .

She could love Elentari. She could love others. But he wanted her to love and lay with only him among men.

He didn't think it was too much to ask of her.

Killer's views do not represent mine btw! since this is lowkey biphobic

Like Argent, she caught hints of possession and jealousy. Argent had been fine sharing Elentari, but as soon as the Ostrega's eyes turned to other men, something changed. He may have always felt that way, even when he had known who she was, how she treated her heart and her body. They were hers to share, just as she would not command him to only bed her during springtime. It had taken him months to realize this, but Sialuk saw it in Killdeer now, here in the beginning.

No, she said, feeling the walls thicken around her heart. Were all men this way, even Alaric? Would he leave them when springtime came, the resentment in his heart growing too strong to bear? Would Killdeer leave his children here, too? Sialuk buried the questions inside her, but she knew she could not love Killdeer if he sought to control who she loved and took to her ulaq.

No. But there was a frostiness to her answer and mien that caught his attention—having recovered from the post-coital haze—and he sat up abruptly, looking at her.

What's wrong? he asked, cocking his head. Did I say something wrong?

The moment was gone. The warmth in his belly had turned to ice. He believed her, of course, but he wasn't sure what was the matter. Something was off.

It is nothing, she said, her voice warmer now. Sialuk would not bend to his unspoken wishes, and he could choose his own path around her. It was she who led the spear, she who carried children, she who would no longer feel bad for how she chose to share her heart and her body. Sialuk curled herself up next to him, letting the warmth of his body sink into her skin and closing her eyes. Let us rest, she said, hoping to bring the conversation to an end and enjoy one another's company.

It's not nothing.

But Killdeer was never one to rock the boat, and he wouldn't do so, now. Okay, he murmured, cuddling closer to her. He let out his breath and relaxed against her body,

Enjoying the moment.

As much as he could now, anyway.

But his mind was plagued with thoughts of love and lust and queries and mistrust. He couldn't sleep, and when she drifted off, he slipped away, jaw clenched tight at all the misgivings and feelings that suddenly ate at his core.