Qeya River But often it happens, you know

The Rocky Mountain sheep had flourished in the pack’s absence. Without wolves chasing them and robbing them of their young, their herds had grown. In place of the little string there was now a herd that dotted the mountainside as they spread apart to graze. When Spring came, the heavy ewes would birth again- and head to greener pastures that were lower in elevation.

He caught a young ram by surprise, and fortunately before the yearling had had the chance to bleat a warning to the others. He had strayed down below the treeline, eager to find more food, but his greed made him an easy target. 

The ram’s legs were stiff by the time he dragged it toward where he knew @Star Eater made her den, but the snow had at least kept its thick, curly pelt relatively clean. He put on a high voice, and a fake accent that made him sound like he could have played an extra in the movie “Fargo.” Hey!—a I got a delivery for, ah, one Mrs. Star Eater, Hey sang out, though immediately felt a bit like a fool for changing his voice. 

Maybe she wouldn’t be home, and maybe his foolishness might so unnoticed.

star eater’s head emerged from the den’s mouth, ears swiveling forward at the call. for a moment, her gaze narrowed, as if weighing the strange voice—until she saw ridgeback, dragging a prize behind him.
a grin flickered over her features, brief but warm.
a ram! she declared, stepping out into the open with a lightness to her stride, her belly round with life beneath her fur. the playfulness in his tone wasn’t lost on her, and though she said nothing of it, the corners of her mouth tugged upward.
a fine offering, she praised, circling the ram with an appraising eye before looking back to him. did he fight you, or did you charm him down the mountain? the tease was gentle, her tone softer than usual.
she reached down to grasp the thick curl of the pelt, testing its weight with her teeth. we will use every part. you did well, ridgeback.

He gave the body one final tug to bring it closer, before he let go and responded. Rams are still sheep, He mansplained, feigning seriousness before turning toward her with a cheeky grin. His smile softened at the sight of her, plush with good health. 

Modestly, he shrugged. His horns aren’t even curled yet, He noted, slightly embarrassed by his choice of prey. No struggle, really- the glutton went below the treeline away from the others, had a nice patch of wispy mountain grass all to himself…Good news is, the rest of the herd didn’t hear the kill and probably won’t miss the little bastard. There was no bad news to share- he felt that he could make a second kill in short time with little fuss.

Still- immature as it was, it seemed to please Star Eater, and would not go to waste. I imagine so; women always know what to do with a kill. He spoke with conviction, and a tad of envy- in many ways, he considered women to be more capable than men. Plus, you’re not just eating for you. If Sun Eater comes looking for a bite to eat you can tell him to piss off, this is yours, He said with a brief chuckle, before his expression shifted. But like, maybe don’t tell him I said that. As revered as Sun Eater was, Ridgeback still knew to tread carefully.

star eater's eyes softened with his words, the corners of her mouth lifting faintly. she stepped forward, inspecting the young ram with a discerning eye before her gaze returned to ridgeback—grateful.
thank you, she said simply, earnestly.
it was a rare thing for her to accept help so freely, but this was a gift. one she would not waste. the weight of carrying new life within her had begun to burden her body. her hunger grew faster than she could hunt, and she knew sun eater’s eyes watched her closely, always. this offering lightened that weight, if only for a day.
she exhaled a breath that carried warmth into the cold air, and with it, a hint of amusement at his jest. if he complains—i will tell him to piss off for you.
her tail gave a small wag, playful but brief. then, a more serious note touched her tone. this is a good kill. it will feed us well. you took this down by yourself?
she stepped aside, inviting him closer if he wished, but did not demand it. instead, she began to tear into the ram’s side, blood staining her pale muzzle. a glance upward to him, eyes glinting.

Ridgeback’s tail waved, and he bobbed his head to acknowledge her gratitude. Star Eater was not the first woman he had helped feed throughout her pregnancy- he found the task fulfilling, though he couldn’t help but dread the possibility that he was perhaps investing too much. After all- the last mother he had nurtured had been slain by Star Eater’s husband. The others had all disappeared. 

Not again. He decided silently, as he made himself comfortable at her invitation. After all- he might soon have to feed Ice Diver, if she conceived. 

Star Eater deftly distracted him from his concerns. Alright, but you’re gonna have to give a nice speech at my funeral, so, He said with a shrug. Start rehearsing now, ‘cause I want to hear it while I’m alive. Dark humour, always a good band-aid. 

He reached around to nibble at an itch in his side as she began to eat, but scoffed at her comment, blowing warm air across his own flank and surprising himself with how it tickled. Tchyeah, He said, slumping down onto his belly. Sheep’re easy. One time, I knocked over 32 in one day, He said, but hastily continued. Different kind of sheep, and I mean, they had no escape so it was basically a slaughter, but yeah- I know how they move, how to bring ‘em down quick, He licked his lips, where saliva had begun to collect. He grinned. S’why I called myself ‘Sheep Killer’ here, when Sun Eater got me to change my name the first time. He explained. Ain’t as badass as Star Eater, but, y’know, He said, with another shrug. We can’t all be good at names.

her ears flicked with interest, the corners of her mouth curving upward in mild amusement as she tore a strip of meat from the young ram.
ridgeback suits you better, she mused between bites, her gaze drifting over his form—the strong slope of his back, the sturdy frame built for the mountains. but… do you like it? the name you were given?
there was no judgment in her tone, only curiosity. names were powerful among the saatsine. they were given with purpose, meant to shape and reflect the soul. yet she knew well that not every name was welcomed.
her eyes lingered on him, waiting, wondering if he had ever felt as though his name truly belonged to him—or if it had merely been another thing thrust upon him, like so much else in this harsh world.

He reminded himself that most wolves would not know breeds of dogs, before launching into one of his deep interests, which was learning specifics about certain dog breeds. The ridgeback was one he admired quite a bit; fierce dogs whose job was to hunt lions. 

But when given to him by Ice Diver, it took another meaning, one he cherished. Also- it made him feel as though others thought of him as a badass. If Star Eater liked his name, then surely, she too thought he was tough. 

Thanks, he replied with a light swing of his tail. His head tilted slightly at her question, but righted itself as he nodded fervently. Oh yeah, fer sure! I like it. He said. How do you like yours?

star eater’s smile lingered, something knowing and pleased. she nodded, gaze warm but appraising as she looked upon him.
it is well earned, she said simply. and it was. the name carried weight, bore a truth that could not be stripped from her. she had devoured her past, let it burn in the wake of what she had become.
her tail flicked idly, her attention settling fully on ridgeback now. as is yours, she added, voice laced with something approving, something genuine.

There was much to be admired, when it came to women whose confidence soared. He knew little else of women, but that they were courageous. They faced the hardships of life faced by all creatures on the planet, but endured as well the weight of becoming a mother. 

He was glad to help her on that path, with a meal of sheep. 

So- how many kids you thinkin’ you’re gonna have this year? he asked, hoping that the topic might pique her interest.

star eater laughs softly, a low, almost purring sound. look at me, she echoes, giving a dramatic glance down at her wide sides. feels like a big one. they're starting to squirm, too. little warriors already fighting in there. her tail gives a lazy sweep behind her as she shifts her weight, easing the pressure on her hips.
her gaze flickers up to ridgeback, a spark of amusement there. want to feel them? she asks, tilting slightly to offer her side. it's said so easily, so casually, as if inviting him to touch the very future of their people is no more complicated than passing a glance. but there’s pride in it, too. in this belly, in this life. in all of it.
she muses, thoughtful now. maybe four. my husband would like an army, but the caribou will decide. her gaze drifts out to the snowfield beyond, watching the distant herds with quiet reverence. they always do.

Briefly, he looked to her face, and not to her sides, and felt his heart warming. The Chieftan had chosen a beautiful wife, one with humour dancing in her eyes. He caught himself swooning momentarily, and dropped his gaze to her belly, where her gut swelled, skin pulled taught, parting the fur in place. But it was easy to look at her in this state, and still swoon. 

Healthy then, just like uh, just the way they should be, He said. He felt envious- not of Sun Eater, but of Star Eater; she would have children, soon. He wished he had the same certainty of Ice Diver’s state, but thus far, he was not sure.

But in spite of his envy, he felt excited too, and paused for a moment, tipping his ears forward eagerly, when he was invited to feel the children move.

What if Sun Eater walks in?!?

He had the thought as he practically crawled toward her, and stretched out his neck to place his cheekbone against her side, while keeping his body as far away from her as possible. 

Star Eater will keep me safe, He convinced himself, as he sidled a bit closer. 

He could hear gurgling, and he could hear the steady beat of her heart. And like rain falling on a hollow tree stump, he heard the pattering of little hearts, felt the movement of little paws. A smile came to his face as he listened, calm and still for once. He could have been there for hours, and he wouldn’t have noticed the passing of time until Star Eater’s voice roused him. 

He lifted his head and searched her expression momentarily. 

The March. 

It would be the caribou who decided how many children survived- a brutal truth that they had been told to accept. He reached out to boop his snout against her shoulder- knowing he would be completely incapable of touching her otherwise in a way that might seem too familiar, too suggestive of how his heart raced. 

You’ll have an army, He responded. He wanted to tell her he’d carry any stragglers on his shoulders if need be- though he knew it would not be allowed. He was feeling too much; he needed to break the heavy weight of worry. Besides- one of your kids just gave me a lickin’ He said, lifting a paw to rub his cheek. They’re strong. They’ll march.

her laughter, warm and ringing like the soft jangle of bone charms in the breeze, spilled from her throat before she could help it. there was something so endearing about him, the way he looked half ready to bolt and half ready to plant himself beside her belly forever. the sight of him, careful and reverent as if she might shatter beneath his touch, made her heart swell with a fondness she hadn't anticipated.
their teeth are sharp to cut sheep fur, she teased, teeth flashing playfully as she gave his ear a light, sisterly nip.
she watched him quietly after, as he pressed close and listened, the edges of her smile softening as she saw the way his face gentled in the moment, as if all the weight of the wilds had been lifted from his shoulders. how long had it been since anyone let themselves be at peace like that?
when he finally lifted his head and spoke, her grin returned full force, tail thudding gently behind her. an army, she echoed, eyes glittering. and they'll remember their uncles soft touch.
she shifted slightly, enough to nudge her shoulder into his. you'll march beside them, ridgeback. stragglers or no. we'll keep each other from falling behind.
her gaze, steady and bright, lingered on him for a beat longer than it maybe should have, before she added, softer, you’re good to me. to them. thank you.

Uncle.

An honour, to be considered family, especially when it was something he sought, drawn toward the notion like a ship following a star on the horizon. It seemed, though, that he had missed a lesson or two in orienteering- and each star he followed eventually roved out of sight, and did not return the following night. He was left adrift, on the same waters, but without a guiding light. 

Now the opportunity came again, but it felt bittersweet; too often he had lost those he had chosen to cherish, and now he was left wondering if the stars were aligning again- preparing to dart out of reach simply because it was what happened. Some small part of him wanted to pull back, knowing it would hurt less when she and her children disappeared if he cut ties now. 

And yet, he leaned into her touch momentarily, his shoulder against hers, a burning in his chest of fire and ice, worry and affection. His eyes slipped shut as she reminded him that he was gentle, and instilled in him the same sense of duty that he felt for all the children he had tried to raise so far- even though he had failed. 

He had tried, and he would try again. Maybe this time, he would get it right. 

He opened his eyes to see how she looked at him, and for a moment it felt right to gaze back at her. For a moment, he thought he should reach out to hold her so she might know that such care had been earned. He would march alongside her children, alongside her- and he knew in his heart that a weakness had begun to grow. 

With a voice as soft as a rabbit's ear, he spoke. I'll watch over them, He said, making a secret promise that he would indeed watch over her children- no matter where they walked. And you. He added. 

It felt as though time was spinning; and his heart raced to think he might be betraying his Chieftan by saying such things. It was out of fear that he pulled himself from her side, dogged by guilt, too; after all, he had made a promise first and foremost to his wife. He couldn't stretch their moment any longer- each second they came closer to a reckoning that he did not wish to face. 

I'll, uh, let you get some rest, He said, though his cheeks burned at the unbidden thought of keeping her awake for hours yet.