Blackfeather Woods You cannot let your parents anywhere near your real humiliations

So long had passed since his attack, but that alone hadn't dulled anything. While the physical pain had subsided quite some time ago, there existed still the mental hurt and humiliation. Most of his time had been spent within Wolfskull, keeping to the back of the cave and away from prying eyes. Sleeping had become difficult, for every time he shut his eyes, there appeared behind his lids an image of Cicero. He'd grown exhausted and malnourished, refusing to eat most foods that had been brought to him, and then not possessing the willpower necessary to get up and hunt for himself. He didn't want to be caught out in the woods, he didn't want to be questioned, and he certainly didn't want to risk an encounter with any of the Spiderlings.

After another failed attempt at sleeping, he'd given up and stared out towards the cave's entrance. Though fearful, he'd eventually managed to make his way out into the light, head and tail low whilst his ears were pinned back against his head. The surrounding area was scanned before he'd proceeded, following a path he hadn't walked in ages as he'd made his way towards his parents' den. Every little noise had made him pause and look around, needing to make sure that he wasn't being followed, as well as that he wasn't about to be attacked again. Every time he'd continued moving, though, needing to speak with @Nemesis. When he'd finally arrived, he'd found his father to be missing, his scent being thick in the air but not recent. It was a relief to know that he'd not yet have to face the man, and so he'd situated himself outside the entrance, anxious and alert. "Nem?" he'd called, his voice cracking halfway through from lack of use. Quickly had his mouth then closed after that, his nerves having made themselves known, much to his displeasure.

To say she was disappointed in her step son was an understatement. She had been understanding to the point of frustration, lenient where she would not have been with others and caring though he constantly pushed away most of her affections. Yet, he had the nerve to bring some stray to her borders, tell her that he had no interest in being apart of their family nor a brother to his half-siblings and downright cast away everything she had ever done for him; before introducing his little friend. She was enraged. Xan had never been the most empathetic, yet now he was no longer a child but a man, and she had expected better of him as a future dark brother. Yet, there seemed little chance of that happening either for he constant pushed everything away. Her, his father and even the concept of closeness. She did not understand, not anymore. Nothing excused his behavior.. at least to her knowledge.

Yet, he approached her place of rest in a timid fashion, anxious in a way she had not witnessed before. The children lay strewn about the den in their own heaps, quiet snores filling the silence. There would be no issue of one awakening for quite a while, lone enough for Xan to say what he needed to say. "Yes?" She lightly inquired, stiffling a yawn as she did so. Her tone suggested a bitter underline, though was not entirely harsh, waiting for him to explain his words or the very reason he had sought her out after weeks of ignorance. Cold eyes searched the other, and found something missing. Xan was not the Xan she recalled, rather, altered by something she could not fathom nor understand. Something had happened, she was sure.

Beneath her gaze the boy had shifted, uncomfortable, fearing that she might be able to see right through him. His worries went unsupported by any sort of evidence, mere conclusions that he'd drawn in a moment's notice. He'd upset her, angered her, and he wanted to right the wrongs he'd committed. It was difficult to do so, however, when one's voice refused to work properly. She'd questioned his being there, prompted him to speak, but no words would come out. Several times had his mouth opened, only to shut directly afterwards as he'd discovered that there was nothing there waiting to slip from his tongue. He'd cast his gaze away from her face, letting it delve into the darkness to roam over the sleeping forms of her children—his siblings. Related only partially by blood, but he'd wanted for there to be more between them, deep down, since Nemesis had easily become the only mother in his life.

"They're bigger now," he'd eventually been able to say. The words were simple, meaning little to ordinary ears, but were of great importance in his mind as he'd recalled what he'd said to Nemesis. How they'd been too small, unable to do anything, and so he hadn't wanted anything to do with them. That hadn't been entirely true, of course, he'd simply been wary of them for they each possessed the ability to steal Nemesis away from him. By saying what he had, he'd hoped to convey that he was at least making an effort, but knew not how well his words might be interpreted—did she remember what he'd said before, or had her anger at the time been too great? "I don't want to wake them up..." It was an indirect request for her to come out, though he was, in his own way, also concerned about ruining the children's sleeping schedules.

Her gaze wavered from Xan to the children following his observation. "They are," Fond eyes watched their every intake of breath and every exhale before returning to her eldest son, and they hardened. She loved Xan truly, but, she had been hurt in a way he could not understand just yet. Yet, in the mere few words he spoke she knew he had not meant it, not in the way he said. Xan was sadistic since a child, but he was not cruel to the point he would cast his own siblings aside; as innocent as they were. The dark woman knew he would have a lot to say, so she accompanied him outside of the den where the little ones would not be disturbed; hoisting herself off the ground and out into the cool air of an autumn breeze. Winter would be with them soon, a season where those not built for life did not survive. Prey would become even more scarce, and with multiple mouths to feed, she spent most of her absent time filling the caches for the days to come. 

Yet for now, she focused on the present moment, giving her full attention to Alexander if not for a keen ear leaned towards the den. The woman lowered herself to the ground once more, "What would you like to tell me?" She would not pester him with questions, leaving him to decide what he would an would not tell her rather than feel obligated to give an answer he necessarily did not want to give. Eyes attent, she waited for a reason, any reason that would justify his words and his willingness to stay away.

The boy had swallowed, shifting his weight around once or twice as he'd watched her. Thankfully, she'd understood what he'd meant and exited the den. He'd backed up as she'd done so, giving her the space that she most likely desired, and then settled down on his haunches. His paws itched, wanting for him to keep moving just to be safe, but he'd ignored the nagging feeling for the time being. His focus remained on Nemesis—his mother, if he were to be honest with himself—ears having fallen back as he'd picked through his mind. To find the right words, it was something that he needed to do, for he wished not to cause an even greater rift between himself and her.

"I–," he'd stopped himself, mouth closing as he'd looked away. Dulled eyes made their way towards the ground, lingering on it rather than lifting back up to gaze at her. "I didn't mean what I said before." It was simple, but the truth, as well as not the end of his words. "I didn't want to see you all together. I thought–," another pause, another breath. "You said you wouldn't ever abandon me, but won't that happen now? They need you to survive, so doesn't that mean you won't have time for me?" It was an issue that he'd always possessed, the heavy weight that was his belief that he'd someday be left behind. That no matter what promises had been made in the past, they'd be broken. Xan believed it even more so now, feeling himself to be unworthy of anyone's presence; he didn't want for them to see his shame.

He did not mean it. "I know you didn't," Truthfully, she hadn't been sure at the time. Xan was a fickle mind, and one could never really be to sure with him. The boy harbored hate, yet had never looked to her with anything of the sort. Nothing had hurt her more than when he had shoved it back not only in her face, but her infant children's. It was unfair, as well as childish. "Have I ever done anything to prove otherwise but nurse your siblings that cannot yet even see? Of course I must put their needs above your's; you do not rely on me to live," She recited calm, however the topic irked her to no end. The fact that Xan had even brought up the idea that she would abandon him (again) as if he wanted for her to forget about him. How many times did she have to promise she would always remain a presence in his life until he got it through his mind that she loved him as if he was her own? "Of course that will limit the time I spend solely on you, however, you as a grown man are fully aware that you can walk those few steps and see me at any time, for as long as you need," Realistically, she would need to devote the majority of her time into making sure the brood did not accidentally wander off a cliff somewhere, or accidentally get high on shrooms at a month old. However, Alexander was her son too, and even if their time alone would be limited in the first few month's of the children's growth, Nemesis would never turn away his company in exchange for time with the others. Truly, it disappointed her that he did not see, that he even had uncertainties about such a  topic although assurances should have been placed in his mind that he would never have to worry about replacement. Had she not done her job right? As much as it disappointed her, it frustrated her.

As she spoke, he turned away. Xan kept his head lowered, with his muzzle facing away from her, as he stared at the ground. Time and time again she had reassured him that she’d never leave, that he didn’t need to worry about being abandoned by her, but he’d found himself to be doubtful anyways. Fear, anger, and even hate drove him to feel such a way, knowing very well that words meant little—that was all she’d ever given to him, after all. Words, words, words. He’d yet to see a single moment where she’d backed up her useless speeches with legitimate actions, so how could he know for sure that she wasn’t lying to him? The more he thought about it, the more flaws he saw in everything she’d ever told him. She could, and would, not be there for him. Neither then nor ever, and not even in the past. Where had she been when Cicero had attacked him? Why had she never visited him whilst he’d been confined to Wolfskull? As his fear guided his thoughts, he’d finally been able to see the light: Nemesis didn’t care about him, and she never had. Even before the birth of her children, she’d only ever peered in his direction when doing so could benefit her status in some way. She didn’t care, she wouldn’t speak to him, and she was sure to leave him behind.

With a shake of his head, the yearling retreated a step or two, refusing to look at her. “You’re lying,” he stated, tone harsh. “You’ve been lying all this time. You say you won’t abandon me, but you already have. You abandoned me, just like my mom.” She hadn’t been there to save him—she could have helped him, she could have stopped Cicero. Where had she been whilst he suffered? With her real children? He didn’t blame them, no. How could he? They were so small, so… useless. Never would they have been able to do anything to stop his attacker, but Nemesis could have. If only she’d paid a bit more attention to Alexander, perhaps he wouldn’t have had to go through what he had, but she hadn’t. No one had, for everyone had abandoned him.

pulling nem

 

His words came at her in stab like pains; she was unable to stop him from further severing their bond. It was inevitable, she decided, that he cast her away as a mother figure due to his lack of confidence in her ability to keep him close at all times. Perhaps, he was right. The children she had given birth to would come before him, before Kove. Prejudice, it was, but she could not help it. Alexander had already proven his ability to maintain his own health; he did not need her yet still claimed to not have her at all. The dark woman could stand it no longer. Once the tension-filled silence resumed, she did not spare a parting gaze before she pivoted, taking her leave where it rightfully deserved. She would not hear it, what he claimed to be her faults. The boy would be sure to figure himself out before he called judgement on her. She paused only once, the need to correct the boy where he stood far surpassed the hurt she felt. “I am not your mother,” She was as cold as she was to outsiders; the way she was to those she did not hold close. Nemesis did not seek him out again

Her words struck him harder than any hand ever could, and he could do little more than stare after her vanishing form. A feeling of pure hurt rose within his chest, only to then be smothered by his rage. The truth hurt him, the fact that she was not his mother, but what had given way to his anger was her statement. The way in which she’d spoken to him, her tone just the same as it would be towards the loners. He knew then that he didn’t need her—that he didn’t want her. She had abandoned him, but that loss was one he would not dwell on. She was not his mother, she was nothing to him, just as he was nothing to her; he knew her to believe this, her response having been proof enough. He thought of lashing out, of perhaps even harming her children, but was stopped by the reminder that she was not worth it. Turning, he fled the scene, knowing for certain, then, that she was not on his side; she could not be trusted any longer, neither with his life or his secret.