Swiftcurrent Creek The truth is

There was an itch beneath his skin. And it drew his blood hot. And irritation. Had he handled himself poorly at the borders perhaps, and yet he'd do it again. He hated snot nosed kids who thought they could do no wrong And didn't expect to get consequences for their actions. 

Swordfish had been a part of the creek he had liked the kid then. Then he had left and came back only after he impregnated a she wolf who frankly was too good for him clearly and Akavir amd Arric were cleaning up the mess again. It rankled. It infuriated. And hot damn it exhausted.

Arric found a quiet spot and took one breath and another. Slowly loosening the muscles of his back and shoulders. Making his brain quiet. And he felt himself slowly relaxing as he meditated for the first time in quite sometime. A habit he had lost as children arrived and he was on deck to help his wife. And now Suzu and Etienne and frigging Swordfish.

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The fog that settled over the creek this time of year was reminiscent of his own feelings—though a darkness had devoured him, surely.

There was no coming back from the death of his daughter. Days went by and it didn’t simply become easier—the pain did not stop, nor begin to numb. Instead, he had to force himself to do more. To be more.

Even just to be, honestly.

Yet while it was one day at a time—there was also a certain tension it seemed that lived in his Beta, as he watched from a distance the sulking form of a shadow that could only be Arric from sheer size alone. It rankled the comment his friend had thrown at him at the meeting—‘you’re a dickfuck,’ was the greeting he had received. And then a ‘sorry buddy, I get it.’

But he didn’t. And Akavir didn’t want him to get it—he could only hope that the big guy that seemed to settle down to meditate didn’t have to bury one of his own kids. Akavir wouldn’t apologize for needing space. Not for that.

Casting a sideways glance to the wetter cusp of the creek bed, the Alpha stalked forward, grabbing what he needed to be armed.

And then—waltzed up to the Beta male, who seemed intent on finding some inner peace. “Hey, fuckface,” he murmured, his words muffled as he approached, right before gearing up and all but slapping the cattail across the other man’s face in a pure explosion of fluffy seeds and mayhem.

How was that for being a dickhead?

If you've never played with a cattail as a kid have you even lived?

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Arric would not take any of his words back. He would apologize for them if need be, but never take them back. Because he often didn't say shit without thinking first. Not always, but pretty damn near.

He had never buried a child's and gods he hoped he never did. But he had buried his mom, his father. Countless others that needed it. It was a dark spot on ya.

Blue eyes popped open, but before he could say a word. A stinging pile of fluff nailed him in the face. He coughed and choked. Inhaled and more of the shit went in his nose he gagged.

He tripped forward, gathered some momentum and slammed into the other male as he died from fluffiness.

 Large forearms going around the others neck in a pull of immature wrestling.

What a fucking way to die by fluffiness. He supposed he deserved it often enamored with fluffy things. He choked again.

Fuck you. Cough cough. I'm dying

There was a grim satisfaction that at least he still had his stealth, if nothing else—Arric’s eyes opening only at the sound of his voice and widening in surprise as he was popped across the face with a flurry of fluff and mayhem. Catttail seeds were inhaled by the Beta—snorted up his nose, and a full fledged cackle escaped the Alpha as he made to bound away unscathed—

—but two thick arms managed to grab him around the neck and pull him back.

He was pulled into the fray of fluff and bullshittery—which was not the plan. If he had been smart, he would have kept his lips tightly pressed together so he didn’t meet the same fate as Arric—but he just couldn’t help himself. “I’ll look after Arlette for you,” he jeered—and with the opening of his own mouth, accidentally sucked in some of the cattail seeds—his own coughing initiating.

“Dammit,” he ground out, back paws pressing to the ground as he made to push Arric back into a tackle.

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Arric was either getting old or he had been way in the zone, because he hadn't heard shit. But then the world was ending, he was freaking sure of it. There was shit in his nose and in his eyes. He was flailing around like a crazy thing. A turtle on it's back, screaming for it's mama. 

You can *cough* try. *Cough* I hope *cough* she kicks your ass

Arric laugh, sucking in more of the fluff. AWW Shit. He coughed and cackled. Take that *cough* bitch. *cough cough* Karma.

He squeezed his friend tighter with thick arms, essentially crushing him as they both fell. He did try to at least pad the fall a little. But now they were flailing and cursing. A toe got him in the eye. He heard a crack as something cracked that shouldn't of, but nothing was broken. He coughed again. 

Fuck you brother.

“Nah,” he coughed, trying not to laugh because he would suck in more of the fluffy mess that spiraled around them. “She’d be grateful when she realized her biiig husband was taken out by a few tiny fluffballs.”

That was when some really flew in his mouth—initiating a gag reflex.

One dry heave later, Arric grabbed him for a wrestle, and they were on the ground—elbows elbowing in places that hurt, fingers jabbing—two older men that had no business trying to roughhouse anymore.

Finally—exhausted—coughing—and black fur riddled with cattail seeds, Akavir snorted, laying on his back. “You’re just lucky I didn’t pick a bunch and give them to your kids to fuck up your den.”

That, he felt, would have Arlette kicking his ass.

The image of her launching at Pukei was forever seared in his brain, and humbled him greatly in her presence.

Arric held up a paw, to poke at the other male. But there was no lie in his words. He scowled instead. The very real fear of having almost lost her because of his size in the back of his head.

I always knew you secretly wanted to take me out. He drawled. He snorted and then laughed, but he tried to turn his face away, but one went into his nose anyway. And he sneezed once, twice, three times.

Arric was still sneezing as Akavir grabbed him and he hit the ground like a log. TIMBER, he swore the ground even shook.

Do it i would love to watch my wife kick your ass. And then make you clean it up.

A grapple and then he just lay there chest rising and falling a mass of black legs and paws. He lay his head down and squinted at his best friend.

How you holding up?

He laughed—it was hard not to. Arric had that effect on him—and he loathed the thought of not having this man as his second in command. His other hand—a best friend.

Still, it was sobering when the blue-eyed man asked him for the truth, and he stilled for a moment—blowing at a stray piece of cattail seed that floated just above him as he lay on his back—clouds above still drifting by.

Life still drifted by.

“Like I lost my first born daughter,” he answered, the honesty of it raw in his throat.

Arric had decided how ever long ago he had come. Gods he didn't even know how long he had been here. He had decided that Akavir was his ride or die. So whereever this jerkface went he did too. He just hoped he could talk Arlette into it now. But he doubted that Akavir would leave. He'd probably die here and get buried somewhere in the creek. 

Arric knew his words had been harsh the day of the meeting and he had felt bad for it. And now even more so. Arric leaned over and gave the guy a nudge to his head. Then placed a paw there. A silent show of support. Saying hey man i'm here. But you ain't gotta talk about it.

fade here?

Silence enfolded them—just like the last remnants of cattail seeds that softly floated down upon them and the ground. Arric reached out in support, and Akavir did the same.

There would be nothing more to talk about. Lilitu was dead. He had grieved. He had laid her to rest with her mother.

Nothing else could be done now but to go forward, like always.