Hoshor Plains the roots beneath my shaded tree / the moon dancing across my sky

Aries seemed to have inherited his mother’s verbose nature, but the way he employed his skill made her sad. Instead of spreading love and light, he spoke most negatively about himself and his malevolent inclinations. He seemed so convinced of his own darkness, that Olive could not help but wonder just how much of it was truth and how much of it was a fabulous fabrication. “Just because a man calls himself king, does not make him a king.” the druid state definitively.

“Just because you say you are dark, does not make you dark — ” and she had so many more words prepared, so many other things to say, but Aries dove into the story of his not-so-recent past and immediately captivated the mother with his words. She sat silently, drinking in his voice and delighting in his carefully threaded tale, but remained politely distanced from the truth of it. The fact that he had actively made the decision to leave, pledged himself to false deities of the night, that he called himself a spiderling and every day he made the decision not to bid her a proper farewell; the fact that any of these things had even happened at all, it just did not stick in her awareness. This was happening to someone else, not she and not her baby. Better yet, it was a work of fiction.

But still, a small part of her wished to find this woman with a pelt dusted of stars, to yell at her, or bite her, or hurt her in some way that she might half-experience herself the pain of losing a son — the son she had gotten a chance to love before he too was cleaved from her side. Oh, Olive had such terrible luck with sons.

He sighed, denied her offering of freedom, and concluded his tale. “Oh…” she breathed similarly, unsure of what was the right thing to say and entirely uncertain how she could convince him to leave with her and forsake the deal he had oh-so-willingly struck with the devil. The boy, who’s pelage was a perfect smattering of both his mother’s and his father’s genes, left very little room for further argument. He was so resolute that it was almost admirable — and Olive slowly came to the realization that, perhaps, there was nothing more that she could do for him. He had found his path thus far, and even if this path took him farther and farther from her side, she would not longer strong in the way of it. 

Emotions swam thick in her throat once more, but the ashen fae struggled to keep them subdued and her voice strong. “I want you to…” she trailed off, realizing she still had nothing to say. There was no wish she could have for him that didn’t seem to work against his destiny. Olive had given him life, but this wolfess of the night had given him purpose. "I hope you…” but still, nothing could be said that would make him see the light. “I…” but now her stammering was becoming embarrassing, and she lifted her gaze heartbreakingly, meeting his own. “I miss you.” and, if he really couldn’t be with her... “I will always miss you."

and then, without much fanfare or fuss, the mother and son parted ways.