Shadewood The stars, they make me wonder so

so i kind of wrote you a novel! :0 no need to match the length! <3

 

Arturo had built his reputation of being composed, even with death's teeth bared inches from his throat; this was no different. The threat of death was not so immediate as it would have been if the famine had been a physical beast or an enemy but it was still a threat that boldly Arturo would go to, as if it were the mouth of hell itself. Surviving was what their species did, enduring was what Arturo had done for majority of his life. This, the sovereign was no stranger to. She commented upon his strength and with a movement on Cearney's side the distance between them was closed and the father's muscles relaxed when he felt the pressure of his daughter's muzzle against his shoulder, and for the first time his composure cracked, expressing his emotion with a soft whine as he returned her embrace, resting his muzzle against her nape, breathing in her scent, allowing himself to believe that just like when she was a small infant and girl that she was where she was safest: in his arms (er...presence?) before their embrace broke and he took a step back. “As are you, Cearney, but you are a Fearghal and I expect nothing less.” There was weight beneath the family name he gave her and her siblings — and while he was not quick to discredit Duana's part in raising their children (for Arturo respected his ex-lover greatly) Cearney and her siblings were his pride and joy.

Arturo remembered her fondly as a newborn, as a infant, as a curious young child that adored the stars above; but too fast Cearney and her siblings had grown. In what felt like a blink of his eyes they were grown and some — Bowie, namely — were going their own way, forging their own paths. Though accepting that truth had brought a measure of heartbreak to the gangster he had not discouraged their desires, even if their desires whisked them away from the Hollow. They were Family forever, always welcomed even when wanderlust gripped them and romanced them into the unknowns of the world. Wanting to forge their own paths was not dissimilar from his own desires, and to reprimand them for it would only serve to make Arturo a hypocrite. “Pestilence stole through these lands and the famine is causing much suffering,” To the wolves, to the prey that remained. Unlike the herds, there were always the smaller woodland creatures that did not migrate and thus were left to suffer the slow decay as the wolves that ruled the Wilds. “I am alive, I am surviving,” Which was about as much as they could do, presently. “and we have found one another, Cearney. That is much to be grateful for.” It was more than enough — even if he felt the early masticate of worry for her well being.

“I had hoped to extend my empire to these Wilds, I still seek to do so, but the famine has made it an impossibility for now,” She had not asked, but she needn't to. She knew why he'd left Quicksilver Hollow — Arturo had not kept his intentions of his departure any sort of secret. “I am faced with what may be certain death if I continue to remain a loner, or to reascend and become a subordinate and live.” Not an easy thing for the Sovereign to do, nor to say; but this had ceased to be a matter of pride the moment he'd stepped into the skeletal Teekon Wilds. Arturo was a clever beast and was too smart to believe that the odds would remain in his favor. He was a smart man, not an arrogant one, or so he liked to believe.

“I do not know your plans or reasons for coming here but you know you are more than welcome to accompany me. If you wish to go your own way, I understand,” Arturo always would, he grasped the desire to be one's own wolf very well. “but my offer will always stand.” Arturo had no idea which pack he would turn to but he felt the pressing need bearing down upon him. Sometimes, he knew, you had to take a few steps back to get further even if the process of being reminded that he was not in charge or control would, no doubt, be a painful one for him.