Moonspear almost heaven

He was worried about @Treepie. Once a gregarious child, she had significantly withdrawn, sticking to the rendezvous and conversing only with those closest to her. She had stayed behind when others had gone to the pack hunt, which had both surprised and disturbed him.

Killdeer spent as much time with her as possible upon his return, and today, he left her sleeping place knowing that he'd put a smile on her face, at least.

Sighing, he paced through the many forest trails around Moonspear, too restless to sit still. Amalia was on his mind—those vivid green eyes, that infectious smile. He wondered if he'd made a mistake—

Fuck, he said aloud, shaking his head. His children, of course, were not and would never be mistakes. They brought him more joy than anything. But had he stayed away from women in heat, dedicated himself to Brecheliant, grown closer to his dark-furred friend. . .

Things might be different. Better? Maybe, maybe not. But they'd be different.

tags for ref

Sialuk had not exactly been avoiding Killdeer, but she also hadn't really sought him out in these past couple of months. What with his questionable inquiry into who she allowed to warm her bed and when, she had been less enthusiastic about the idea of pursuing him, so she had not. Still, he was the father to her children more than any of the others had been, and so she remained pleasant when he was around. There was no need to make the small world of the village a hostile one.

It was his voice that bounced off the tree trunks as she sought healing herbs for the medical ulaq today, and she changed her course to veer in his direction. She could not bring herself to pretend any longer that his comment had not weaseled its way into her very being. Perhaps telling him upfront was a better way to deal with things, even if it was not a particularly pleasant thing to do. Sialuk sucked in a breath and tried to catch his eye as she drew closer.

She caught his eye, indeed. It wasn't the friendly gaze she would be used to; rather, his stare was abstracted as he gave her a nod, inviting her along for his patrol before focusing on the path ahead.

Sialuk, he greeted, with the faintest smile. How are you? The hunt went well.

Killdeer was sure she'd received briefings on it already, given her place as Kukutux's daughter. He was happy to provide whatever information she needed or wanted.

But he longed for connection—longed for Amalia, it seemed—and he had begun to feel a bit sour toward his pack's leader, which he knew was not sustainable. Maybe his temper would cool eventually.

For now, he'd fake it until he felt it.

Sialuk's stomach tightened at the sight of Killdeer, knowing that she had to speak up. It was just so... difficult to think about even doing it. But if she intended to turn over a new leaf, to leave things said instead of hiding in silence, she had to say them now. If she backed out in this moment, she knew she would never muster up the courage again. The sage swallowed hard, then took a deep breath.

The other day, when you said something about not being with other men, it upset me, Sialuk said. You said it as though it would have been bad for me to give my body to another man, but it is might right to do so. I do not wish to fall into the same trap I did with another man I once loved. He became unsatisfied with sharing me with anybody else, and he left. I cannot do that again. And she meant it. If Killdeer wanted to pursue a trajectory together, Sialuk knew they would need to come to an understanding before she let her heart go in his direction. If he could not agree to give her the freedom she deserved, he did not deserve her.

He appreciated her forthright nature; getting this all out in the open had been a long time coming. Once, he might have been devastated; now, in the wake of his realized feelings for Amalia, it was merely a relief. He took each word in stride and nodded, understanding.

Thank you, Killdeer said, for telling me that. I think we want different things, and that's okay.

He met her eyes, though his posture was still deferent to her position as queen of the mountain. My parents were not fit for each other, he went on. I wanted so badly for them to be together, but it didn't happen. It sucked. And it set the tone for what I wanted in love.

Green eyes, set in a kind dark face. Companionship. . .loyalty.

I can't share you, Sialuk, he murmured, shaking his head gently. I respect your choices, and I'll always be loyal to you and this pack. And I'll always be father to your children this spring. But going forward. . .I think it's best that we remain just friends.

She breathed a sigh of relief at his response. It was easier knowing how he felt, and easier still knowing that the air had been cleared between them. There was no sense of utter loss as there had been with Argent for obvious reasons, and the sage knew she had made the right call.

Friends it is, she agreed, a warm smile replacing the tension and apprehension which had saturated her expression only moments before. Still, it made her wonder if her way of love would ever truly be understood. Chakliux and Elentari were the closest she had come to finding others who understood her ways. The former she had not seen in many months, and the latter had gone her own way in the end. Sialuk was beginning to doubt that she would return, which made her heart ache yet again. Perhaps love was not in the cards for her after all, and she should be satisfied with other things in life.

Deep down, she knew that would never work for her. She yearned for companionship, but perhaps she would only ever have temporary lovers. Was that such a terrible life to live?

The tension left his shoulders like a balloon out of air, and it showed. It wasn't what he wanted, truly—he'd desperately wanted for his children's parents to be mates—but this was the best possible outcome otherwise. 

Killdeer had loved Sialuk. As a woman, and as the mother of his children. But it was clear that what he'd wanted would never come to pass, and now that he had given himself time and space to accept it. . .

He breathed deeply, smiling with great relief, and moved forward to touch his nose to her shoulder, if she'd allow.

Friends it is, he agreed. He stepped back, feeling as if a thousand pounds had been lifted.

That over with—

How are you otherwise, Sialuk? Killdeer asked. We missed you at the great hunt.

Sialuk felt that, whatever bad feelings had been between them, were gone in that instant. She was not sad for its departure, and already she looked forward to a friendship with Killdeer that did not have unanswered questions lingering beneath the surface. It made her wonder what she would do come spring, though she put those thoughts aside and focused her attention on the moment at hand.

I am... she started, but Sialuk realized that much of her headspace had been consumed by this confrontation that she had built up to be much larger than it needed to be. Content, she finally answered. She had the village. She had @Treepie. She had Sixsix. She had the bones. Sialuk wondered if she had spent too much time on romantic relationships when she should have focused more on other things. Time had flowed on, though, and all she could do now was make the best of it.

Winter settles in, like she always does, and it will be several months of cold and quiet.

Content, she said, and as she had relaxed upon his response, so too did Killdeer's entire demeanor. Her reply was fairly non-committal, though she had always been a woman of few words. 

Yes, Killdeer replied. He thought of Treepie, then, and voiced a concern he'd first heard from Tikaani. I hear Treepie is withdrawn lately. She's afraid of the world outside the mountain.

He cocked his head slightly, wondering at her opinion. Can we help her? Tikaani told me about this. I worry she'll tuck herself away forever and not explore the outside world.

And as an early voyager, Killdeer thought that ran parallel to everything involving 'growing up.'

Mmm, Sialuk nodded. She had noticed Treepie's strange behavior when they had gone to visit Towhee in the copse. The disappearance of her siblings no doubt contributed to her fear of the world outside. Sialuk could not blame her daughter for feeling the way that she did, given the circumstances.

There is no reason for her to leave until she is ready, Sialuk assured Killdeer. The world will wait. In her time as a mother, the sage had always had a more hands-off approach to her children than she had seen in others. It felt easier to let them make their own choices, even if their mother did not always agree with them. She had seen—in others—children wrestle away from their parents with anger and pain if they were forced to do things they did not wish. Sialuk never wished for her children to see her that way. Then again, whatever her parenting style, she could not claim that her children had stuck around. All but Tiuttuk had gone now, few letting her know of their plans for departure.

Of course, Killdeer agreed, then smiled and added, And it is nice to have her around. Just because I flew the coop as a kid doesn't mean she has to.

And it was true, after all, that she was the only one remaining of Sialuk's children this year to remain upon the mountain. His girl. . .his little doppelganger.

He let out a small sigh, contented, then looked at the pale mountain woman. They were very different, Sialuk and Killdeer—the former quiet and contemplative, the latter jocular, needing to fill the silence with words. The inclination itched at him now, but he kept it at bay.

He would enjoy this moment with her, walking through the alpine forest.