Wild Berry Meadow sweet surrender

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Possible conception/sensuality

Setting: Starting out at around 10 am in Moonglow. Moves into the evening, stretching into the dark of night. Clear, starry skies, no clouds, bright full moon. Cool, but not chilly. Enjoying a dinner of berries and meat, before they retire for the night.

It began with a simple discomfort that morning, waking Raindrop from her dreaming. She knew what this meant, she knew it very well. She felt hot, restless, and confused. Hormones were such a fickle thing. At first, she wasn't sure what to do. She and Valiant weren't officially married yet, and this led her to question herself. Should she seek him out? Would he be ready? Would he rather wait? Would it be best to wait until the spring, when the weather would be fair? Would a winter birth be risky?

She silenced these thoughts the best she could, deciding that she would seek Valiant out. She wanted their relationship to be open and honest, filled with trust in each other.

Raindrop howled casually for @Valiant telling him that she wanted to find him.

Valiant was snoozing in the weak morning sun when he heard the call, having just laid down to rest after a night of activity. One thing they'd have to work out was their differing schedules — he'd noticed that Raindrop tended to be more active during the day, while Valiant preferred to be awake at night. He'd been taking more naps at night to try and be more present during the day, but it was still tiring while he adjusted.

He yawned and stretched before howling back that he was on his way. He didn't dawdle, then, and set off at a brisk pace to find her. A pace that became ever so slightly brisker when he picked up on her scent.

It was early. In their relationship, and in the season. He felt a tiny thread of misgiving, but it was useless to worry before he'd even spoken to the women who would become his wife.

And, as ever, he found himself lifted and cheered when he set eyes on her.

"Hey, Rain," he said, his ears cupped toward her at attention. He bit his tongue on several questions that came to mind; he would let her lead the conversation.

He heeded her call as if he were a palace guard. He approached her on swift paws, a lifted air about him. He was attentive, greeting her simply. 

She felt like a youngling again, giddy in his presence. But, she mainted her composure, even as a wave of nervousness brewed inside her chest. 

“Hey!” She replied, reaching to touch her nose to his cheek. “Thank you for coming. There’s something I want to talk about….” Her eyes were soft, but the nervousness began to surface. It was evident in her laid back ears.

The exchanged touch and scents, her nose at his cheek and his lifting to brush her ear. A little smile tugged at his mouth, and he said, "I'll always come when you call," and he meant it, of course — but he was flirting. Just a little.

Her show of nerves plucked at his own, but he maintained a steady presence.

"Talk to me," he encouraged, his own voice soft. And, just in case she was unsure how to broach it: "There's no way this conversation ends with me unhappy. Whatcha thinkin', Rainy?"

His tail fluttered at his heels, gently encouraging.

His words meant so much. More than he would know. She wanted to cry; happy tears, of course. But that was probably just the hormones talking.

His encouragement helped her gain her confidence, "Well," she began, taking a breath, "what would you say if we had the chance to start a family?"


She waited for a response before continuing....


"My heat started this morning." It was embarrassing to say, but she continued; "I wanted to ask you... what should we do?"

Creating life was a mutual decision, one that should be made together.

He knew — and the scent of her changing hormones made it hard for him to draw back even enough to look her in the eye. He managed it, though, lingering close but regarding her with a sober look in his eyes.

"That's what we talked about," he told her, trying to gauge her desires on the topic. He felt that he could see what she wanted pretty transparently. "I want to. If you're ready, I'm ready."

It was soon, but in a lot of ways, it really wasn't. They'd known each other this long. They'd decided what they wanted, together and apart. It was only a matter of when, and at their ages, he saw no reason to wait.

"Let's get out of here," he suggested, his voice lowering; beguiling, now. "Take an early honeymoon. Remember that place where we met?"

He was ready, but only if she was. She thought for a moment, then looked into his bright eyes, "I'm ready."

Neither one of them were getting any younger, both had reached past their days of youth. They went old, but mature, in many ways. They each had been through it all once before, so they would not be strangers to what would come next.

"Wild berry meadow." She confirmed, perking up significantly, her tail wheeling and her eyes bright, with passion. "We should let the kids know where we will be. Or, at least that we will be gone for the day."

And so, before she readied herself to leave, she told her daughters, and Ludo, that she and Valiant would be going out for a while, and that they would be back.

After that, she was ready, and returned to Valiant. She came up beside him and rubbed up against him.

Valiant came along as well, looking in on the kids and saying hello before giving them time to say goodbye. They weren't going far, but Angel in particular seemed keen on saying an emotional farewell, and wishing her mother good luck. He didn't quite want to hear that, so he went and fetched a spare skin so that they could bring berries home for the kids.

At the borders, he gave a low howl announcing their departure, so that the rest of the pack might know as well where they had gone, when to expect them back.

Then the pair set off, the heat of the autumn sun warming their backs as it climbed into the sky.

*

Valiant was panting happily when they slowed. He pulled the skin off of his back and threw it down in a particular spot, saying, "I think it was riiiiight here."

Where they'd met — two years ago, now. A good percentage of a wolf's life.

"You laughed at me," he accused, but laughter was dancing in his rose gold eyes.

After saying their goodbyes, and letting the pack know about their absence, they moved swiftly down the spine and into the flatlands below. The autumn sun was warm, giving the world a golden glow. When they reached the meadow, they were both left panting. It had been a while since she had a good run. 


Valiant placed the skin pelt he brought, so that they could bring some treats back when they returned. She had a big smile on her face, in addition to her lolling tongue. 

Laughter filled the air: “I think you’re right. Of course, it was out of admiration. It takes someone bold to take on a turkey.” 

Time passed, and the sun moved across the sky. The berries were extra sweet; special. The warm hues of evening creeped up on them, as if getting ready to tuck in the sun for the night.

Valiant smirked at her, very much doubting her words. As much as he would've liked to believe her, he knew that he was more 'charming' than he was suave... and not in a practiced sort of way.

He watched her in the light of the blazing sunset while they hunted for berries, eating some and piling others on the skin. The red of her muzzle and ear tips turned molten, the white of her throat glowed almost pink. Her grays went lavender, her eyes a deep indigo. But he still saw her, in little flashes, exactly as he had that day. Eventually, the sight and the smell of her drew him close to her side.

"You were as beautiful then as you are now," he told her, kissing her cheek once more. "Our lives took us in different directions, but..."

He was embarrassed to admit it.

"When we met, I dreamed of this. How could anyone not've?"

He hoped that she would not think it terribly crass of him.

She look at him, glancing. The fading sunlight turned his coat as bright as the sun, and his eyes like fire. Bright, loving, passionate. He drew close to her side, placing a kiss on her cheek. She reveled in his closeness, melted at his words. She knew there was truth in each one. 

“And you, Val, are just as handsome. I think the years have added to it. Seasoned, stronger….” She whispered to him, now leaning against him. 

To hear he had dreamed of her, of them, was the cherry on top. 

“I truly believe that some things are just meant to be. I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about us.”

The light had begun to fade even more, turning the sky a dark purple, before it would become black.

He smiled just a little thinly, at this, wondering if by 'seasoned' she meant the sort of salt and pepper that could now be seen around his muzzle. But he didn't really mind, and was secretly pleased by the praise — whatever 'seasoned' might mean. Certainly, he was glad (relieved) she thought him even stronger at six than he had been at four.

He was amused by it, but flattered all the same.

His smile warmed even further as she spoke again about things that were meant to be. This was not the way that he was accustomed to thinking about these things, and he wasn't sure it was something he wanted to shift his perspective on. But this, he thought, he could go ahead and believe.

He nuzzled her, taking in her heady scent. If they were meant to be, and if this was meant to be, then there was nothing to worry about. Everything was perfect. Everything was safe.

"You want this, then?" he asked her. "More family? With me?"

He knew the answer. He wanted to hear her say it, now — perhaps just for the bright spark it lit in his chest. He trailed his nose down toward her shoulder.

Would you like to fade/time skip soon?

There was quite between them, he touched her, she touched him. Their thoughts, desires, hopes, fears, did not need to be spoken. They could be felt. Her answer was simple and true....

"Yes. I do. We will build a strong family; together." 

This was what she wanted.

Her voice was soft, reassuring, determined. As he shifted his nose down to her shoulder, she reached to groom his ruff. Her rough tongue gently stroking his nape. And so, in the place that they met two years ago, became the place that they had cemented their promise to each other.