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

 

couldn’t wait :o)  @Aries

Some unknown force bade Olive to move south — and, after not finding a reason to say no, the tiny woman moved out from her humble sanctuary upon the silvertip mountain and followed the curves of the riverbed until she found a bridge of a felled tree and crossed the body of water to continue her journey across the open plains of the flatlands. She must have been feeling claustrophobic, she reasoned with herself, being so close to the coast and all. Why did she torture herself like that, the lamb began to wonder as she melted inward and became entirely lost in her own thoughts. She drifted across the winter landscape on autopilot. Her feet and her mind moved in tandem. 
 
But, really, why did she torture herself that way? It was a good question, one that she did not want to answer; one that was quite uncomfortable when thought about. The woman didn’t want to say that she actually liked it, being so close to Ravensblood and staring at all those memories in the face… but, to lean into the hurt meant that it had all been real, because what’s more real than the pain of certainties that were no longer certain? Dakarai, her babies, Teaghlaigh — those bleeding timbers, which shielded her small family once upon a time, reminded her that they had all been real.

Sometimes the loneliness was enough to have her believing she made them up entirely. 

Woo, I'm so excited for this haha :p

The ashen coat of the boy was stalking slow through the plains, a dark elegance born perhaps of his mother - except she had been the light, and he much less so. No, there was nothing light about the Reaper as his sharpened gaze of ice swept the horizon and scanned for any details he had missed during his previous escapades. His mind had drifted back to the lacking presence of his sister, and his lips quirked in almost a smirk as he recounted that the reasoning for her disappearance was likely because she was frightened of the Woods, or perhaps she did not feel as though she belonged. She didn't, a bitter thought plagued his mind suddenly, but it did not surprise him. This had always been his way of thinking. Maybe it was true he was simply arrogant and unwilling to see his sibling take a sudden rise above him in the ranks; no matter, she was gone now. She never wanted to see him again, either - he would be lying if he did not feel as though the feelings were mutual.

Now, his large snow-coated paws had gained a far from pleasant itch, and as they drove him away from the bloody borders which marked the Blackfeather's domain, he felt the irritating sting begin to settle. This was often his drive to move, a simple itch that motivated him to explore the land surrounding the Woods, despite him already having mapped it out in his mind. 

A scent filled his nostrils, and he released a puff of frosty air, watching it form a cloud that soon dissipated into the darkness of the shadows he lingered in. A slight raise of one brow heralded his curiosity - for he recognised this scent, but from where he could not remember. It was a section of his mind that had dimmed but not diminished entirely, a brief recollection of something he had clung to, yet had been tainted with his new life in Blackfeather. Now, now there grew a spark in his heart and he found he could not retreat to the gore-strewn marks that signaled the land his pack lay claim to, no - he drew toward the source of the scent in solemn silence.

Eventually Olive’s movements became more methodical and her entire mien loosened; and her thoughts became lighter and some of that pervasive guilt she always carried around just… faded away. Ranging often had that effect on her, and she took to the road like a fish took to water. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t settled down with one pack or another for the winter yet — she had scented many, that was certain. The desire for freedom, to simply rise and be able to leave her problems behind, was simply too great. 

She sailed across the landscape, silent as a ghost in both mind and body. The weather was not horrible, and that’s about all she could ask for. The woman slaked her thirst at a stream and indulged in the frigid, crystalline waters. She washed her face and continued on. Olive moved like this for some time; and while it wasn’t that often that she came across others, on this trip — she did. 

Olive approached the male, drifting beside him with featherlight steps. Without the mountain’s high winds to deaden sounds, the woman was happy to find that she could articulate in her customary aria, low and sweet. “Hello—” her voice did not fade, but rather her breath cut off abruptly as she looked at the young man, recognition blooming immediately. It was a face that she could never forget, but thought she would never hold witness to again — nonetheless as a grown man. Immediately, she faltered and halted all movements, standing there with mouth agape.

“You…” Her heart clamored and climbed up her throat. “You’re alive…”   

It was as he drew near enough to see the figure not too far in the distance that his ashen ears perked, paws urging him closer. Perhaps this was someone else he could make squirm, simply for his own amusement - it was not a lie to say that the ugly beast within him had been especially active during his time at Blackfeather, but this too must be a result of his acceptence. Because he did not fight this monster that drove him, no, he only fed it. He relished in seeing what he could do, and the satisfaction from hurting was one too great for him to resist.

She closed the distance between them with dove-like grace, words drifting upon the wind until they reached the Reaper who had halted in his steps to watch the wolfess approach. But it was not the words themselves that caught his attention, but the voice that was so distantly familiar. It did not take a genuis to realise, with a jolt, who this must be - it was confirmed when she froze, maw falling agape as she spoke in such a way that seemed to imply she had believed him to be dead. And he supposed he could not blame her for that, it was largely his own fault for his lack of a goodbye.

"Mother...." The deep voice rumbled from his chest, much deeper than she would remember. For he was not a child anymore. No, perhaps he was not an adult, but one would not be able to distuinguish this by his voice and muscular form. Aries halted, tongue drawing out and passing over his lips as he hesitated. He decided to wait, wait for the anger to fill her body when she recognised the stench of Blackfeather on his fur. He was one of them, but he did not regret his choice. His sister had already disowned him, the boy saw no reason for her not to do the same. So he did wait - he waited for the bitter words to spew from her maw and push him away.

If Olive’s entire body had ever stopped working all at one time, it was at that moment. Frozen, her mossy gaze probed the wolf before her, scanning him for qualities of him that seemed familiar and might reassure her that, yes, this was really happening. But from his burly build to the booming of his voice and all those little intricacies in between, there was nothing of the Aries she loved and nurtured all those months ago. She wasn’t really sure how she had recognized him in the first place, save for a feeling.

Was this really Aries, her little bouncing baby boy? Now a stranger of steel and ash, standing before her and calling her mother. It was a strange sound that rang and reverberated in her ears — could a single word ever be so painful? The sylph wasn’t sure that she could be considered a mother anymore, since all of her children made vagrants of themselves and moved on, without her and on purpose. Is that what mothers did, force their children to flee the nest before they’re ready? Aries had been so young, but he had his father’s resilient spirit even when he was a cub. Maybe there was a part to Aries that she didn’t know [the part of him that rebelled and disrespected his elders], a part of him that was ready to leave — but there was no way she would have ever known, since her son left without a trace.

In her darkest of times — those somber days [weeks, months!] following Dakarai and Aries’s disappearances — Olive found comfort in the thought that her son and her husband had befallen some evil, or taken ill. They were simply indisposed and that is what kept them apart; not their active, daily decision to forsake her, sound of mind and body. It was twisted, she knew, but it was the lesser of the two most awful, gut-wrenching evils, and it gave her a weird sense of hope. She hadn’t held on for naught, it seemed, for here her son was again — and nearly a man! He had cared for himself well.

The fae wondered, what did Aries think of her — did he think of her at all?

Olive was silent, yet so was Aries, and for a while the two sat in a stunned sort of reticence. So many thoughts flitted through her mind that she could not process them, did not know which questions took priority, did not know which were the right things to say. Eventually, the waif took a faltering step towards her son and looked up at him, eyes swimming with all the apologies she could never speak. She felt faint. “Aries…” She breathed, and then realized how long it had been since she last said his name — no one ever asked about her children anymore. With her breath coming in shallow puff-puff-puffs, the woman steadied herself upon trembling limbs. “Are you well?” She asked and swallowed her guilt, all other questions unspoken, because his well-being was all that mattered at that moment. Any scent that may hang upon him went undetected by her.    

If the Reaper could have seen into his mother's thoughts, he might had allowed a smirk to cross his features - for it was not entirely true that he had befallen some evil, rather... he was the evil. He had become something so much more deadly than that ignorant boy who had drawn blood from the side of his packmate. He was not simply a young shadow, but a growing monster who wished only to cause pain and see the downfall of any he could tempt into his blood-stained jaws. A beast had consumed him from within and now he was nought but this beast. 

Coldness shone in his eyes, that sharp and icy stare gazing cooly at the woman before him, the woman who had looked after from him since his birth, until he made the sudden decision to leave. He was not denying that he cared for her, but he found himself uncapable of loving in the way that most could, leaving a space inside their heart for their family and their friends - the only gaps in his heart were the ones filled with darkness. But that did not mean he had not thought of her - of course he had. 

The sylph stepped forward with unspoken apologies dancing in her eyes and he found himself almost unsure of what to do. Was she expecting him to leap into her open arms and accept her love if she so wished to give it? He did not want to push her away, but he did not know how to greet her, or how to embrace her like a lost child should when they found a parent once more. Because he was not a child, despite his age. He had matured much faster than one should, but it mattered very little - Aries was a man of dark desires and malicious intent, whether that had originally been his plan or not. It was what he had become.

She asked if he was well, but the boy drew his tongue out and swept it across his lips as if cleansing his muzzle of the blood that seemed to eternally stain his body. Blood that he had viciously lured from another. "I am well." He confirmed, though the answer was simple, revealing none of his secrets. The assassin in training had expected Olive to recognise the distinct scent of Blackfeather on his fur, but she did not. In fact, not a spark of recognision shone in her features - perhaps she had not noticed. "Are you?" Though he almost expected the answer - for Cassiopeia had crossed paths with him already, and if she was not with Olive then surely the mother was distraught. Or perhaps their existence mattered less than her words implied - this thought alone was doubtful.

He was well, the boy said! Those words made the sylph feel simultaneously relieved and contrite, for now her mind understood what her gut had known to be true. Olive oppugned against her new truth [a reality that, before this moment, had only been a theory]: Aries did not leave because he had gotten lost or injured, but because he just didn’t want to be with her. He must hate you, the words pounded in the back of her skull, giving her a headache. He hates you.

Was she jumping to conclusions? Maybe. Probably. Unfortunately that was just how Olive worked — she experienced emotions dynamically and sadness was an all-consuming experience for her. When feelings struck, they struck hard and Olive sometimes had to create her own narratives in order to cope with the disorienting weight of it all. Sometimes, when in the depths of her depression, the pale wraith wondered if that was the reason she believed in the gods at all… as a coping mechanism, and nothing more. Weren’t the gods nothing more than narratives anyways?

“I'm better, now” she lied.

Aries stood merely a few feet in front of her, but remained a million miles away in both mind and body. His words were blunt, his gaze severe; he was inaccessible to her, and the discomfort was pervasive. Unable to quell the upwelling of emotions, Olive bit her lip and dropped her swimming, jade gaze to the ground in front of her — the lamb was unsure how to hide her tears from her son. Her breath trembled as a newborn fawn,  but Olive pushed through and after a few moments regaining enough composure to look up at Aries, the only son that she had ever raised, and asked him the question that plagued her.

“What happened, baby?”

Suddenly she felt so laid bare, so vulnerable in front of her own kin, and could not stand one more second of this. Was this not Aries, her charismatic cub, and was she not his mother, the one who birthed him under the light of the full moon? Would she not move rivers and mountains to make his life even remotely better? Were there no liberties she could take of him? Did that familial love earn her nothing?

Olive swept towards Aries, drifting closer and looking up at the boy as she did so [he was so very tall and so sturdy, not unlike his father], seeking to act upon one of those liberties — nay, needs! If he allowed her, the lamb would breech the barrier of touch and come to tuck her nose amongst the fur of his collar bone, wrapping him in a feline embrace. She edged closer to him, breathing into the nape of his neck. “I thought you had died…” She whispered fearfully, a chill raking across her hackles and snaking down her spine.  His scent was thick and sweet with death — somewhere deep in her psyche, the scent registered with her [it was a scent she could never forget, after all] — but at that moment, Olive focused entirely on the boy with whom she shared her embrace. She would probe this subtle recognition later on, but she simply refused to think about that now. Her attentions were better suited elsewhere. 

 

Against what the sylph might choose to believe - he did not despise her. But his place had not been amongst the Moonspear wolves, and he hadwithdrawn from their borders to see what Nyx could offer him in a place such as Blackfeather. She had suggested bringing him, and her preposition had not seemed to leave space for his temporary return to say goodbye to his family, though his guilt for that did not outweigh his desire to accept the darkness consuming his soul. It was a struggle he was not willing to fight, and instead he had made his decision to side with this very darkness.

She mentioned that she was better now, and the Reaper's brow raised in question - was she not okay before? Was that something to do with his sudden and silent departure, therefore being fault of his own? Or was there some other factor weighing in on her previous state? He had little reason to notice the lie, but either way his only answer was the lift of his brow. He supposed he knew that Cassiopeia [the sister that had not so subtly disowned him] was not beside her, but he knew not of Dakarai or Sirius' location.

The young, ashen man caught the tremble of her breath and the rising flood in her eyes, that which caught him momentarily off-guard. Not having experienced sorrow before, he had no idea of how to possibly deal with such an emotion, especially not when it came from the mother he had undoubtedly left from earlier days. His grey ears flicked back to press lightly against his skull, and he reached out a muzzle to touch her cheek - he was not good at this, the showing affection. Aries' goal was to bring the pale woman some sort of comfort, but whether or not he had succeeded in this was a fact he had yet to discover.

"What happened, baby?"

The question saw his pause in movement, growing as still as the moon itself that watched from the heavens. What happened? He gave in to the shadows. He gave in to the deep, dark longing within his heart to inflict pain upon others and use them for his own sick desires. He was not being stalked by the monster any longer, but had become the terrible beast himself. Perhaps it was Blackfeather that had resulted in his change, but he knew it had been inside him from the very moment he was able to distinguish reality from his imagination. How was a boy conflicted of mind and dark in nature supposed to explain how his world had crashed down, and how he had shifted himself only slightly to evolve into this brute who cared little for all but himself and the few he shared blood with [those relationships that too had thinned]?

Words could not fall from his blackened lips before Olive drew closer and embraced him as though nothing of the last few months had happened, and he was a youngster fighting against the rules in Moonspear again, as he had once been. The boy found the words caught in his throat, the explanation one that surely would hurt his mother - Aries was not innocent any longer. Perhaps he never had been, but there was no ounce of light within his soul that she might attempt to coax from him, and he was content with it.

"I thought you had died..."

The Svartell stiffened, a grimace pulling roughly onto his grey features. Yes, that was his own doing - purposeful or not. His departure was not carried out with a farewell, for he found himself unimaginably drawn to the gore-strewn borders, so much so that he had been unable to leave to seek out his family and say his last goodbye. But now, now did that really matter? They were here, in a sort of embrace, and neither were dead. His last goodbye had not been necessary, all it would have provided was comfort for the ghostly mother. Then again, he supposed that might have been something she had wanted.

"I'm sorry, mother..." The words left his maw at last, forcing down his pride to offer her an apology in his deepened voice. "I did not belong in Moonspear." But I belong in Blackfeather, Aries bit his rough tongue in an attempt to not set off her motherly-born anger, a scolding about his pack of shadows the last thing he needed at this silent moment. Besides, it would not sway his decision. He only hoped she did not scowl and cast him away like his sister had, for she may very well be the last family he had - there had, as of yet, been no sign of Dakarai or Sirius [not that he would recognise the other boy whom he had not been raised alongside], and despite his current situation it would be pleasant to have another he could assossiate himself with.

The boy did not repel her advances, though she thought he might. Instead, her son let her stay there, cradled into his collar bone. It was almost if the roles had been reversed, and she was young and needing of comfort — and he was a man, having seen too much in his lifetime. This dynamic was new, but her children were grown and now she was not mama, some unerring angel who provided a boundless hearth and home, but a fallible woman who fell prey to her own shortcomings just as much as they did. It was new, but it was so real and in that moment there was nothing more beautiful than this mother and son who had parted ways to pursue their own passions — hers being pious devotion, and his being… whatever he was interested in, now — and could respect each other for it, without conditions, without rules. Just a deep, familial bond.  

Every creature deserved the right to a happy life, even if that happiness lay in places where she wasn’t. Olive understood that, now. 

Aries spoke in short sentences, without much pomp or explanation. He had grown into a terse, serious man; so unlike his verbose, lovely father. The druid hauled in Aries’s scent and waited a moment, lingering in his closeness, before responding to him. Perhaps words were not the only communication at play, here. 

Olive exhaled, pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at Aries. Her eau-de-nile gaze swam with accord. “None of us did,” she spoke in a hushed manner, not wanting to offend the gods who had offered them shelter upon Charon and Amekaze’s mountain so readily. Without that sheer good fortune, it was likely that her remaining babes would have perished. Was she unendingly grateful for the assistance of Moonspear, and for the act of raising her children [especially when she had been to distracted to do it herself]? Of course. But Olive did not belong in Moonspear no more than Aries did. She belonged in Teaghlaigh, declaring war upon all the world’s evil from behind Dakarai and Arturo’s aegis. Ravensblood Forest was her home — and Moonspear had always been her auspicious second option. She could not fault him for this, just Olive knew his unceremonious departure, with no word, would always sting.

Olive wheeled back a step of two, not entirely sure if Aries was as needing of touch as she was. “Where do you belong, now?” the sylph queried, now quite eager to learn more about the man who stood in front of her… now that she could believe he was really, truly, actually here! He was! He was!

Sorry about the wait, typed up a reply and then lost it lol :((

The moment was one that likely would never occur again - the Reaper held little care for anyone but himself, though something about his mother's caring attidute, even toward her son who had left without a single word, halted his arrogant demeanor and forced an exception to be made. It was a pure moment, one of a mother and son reunited again after many months, and any events of the past seemed irrelevant if just for those few heartbeats that the two remained together. A family bond, it was the closest of ties, a blood relation that bound the ashen boy to the slyph whether he wished for it or not. In this moment, he accepted it, touching his nose gently to Olive's shoulder - it was done awkwardly, for he had little experience in social interactions so... affectionate, but an attempt nonetheless.

When at last the druid pulled away, a breath of frosted air released from Aries' nose and his ears cupped forward to listen to her words. That rare tender moment was over but the bond had yet to break, a familial bond that strengthened over time and with care, despite how worn down it had become over the boy's absence.

None of us did.

This caused a spark in his chest - so none of the family had belonged there in the first place? He had not considered this before, the possibility that none wished truly to be at Moonspear, and it sent a pang of guilt straight to his heart. A feeling he so rarely felt, if ever, for to most he was simply void of emotion unless it was the sick satisfaction of hurting someone and watching as they suffered. But this time, his actions seemed unjustified and perhaps foolish. Aries should have spoken to his family before abandoning the other pack and never returning, not even for a goodbye or an apology. Nothing.

He took a long pause to consider this, but came to the conclusion that it no longer mattered. He was a different wolf now... no longer a boy. Not mentally or physically, it seemed, despite his true age, and this was a feat he was almost proud of. The Svartell son opened his jaws to speak again, only to be met with a new question, one he had anticipated despite the ignorance of the scent he carried upon his grey fur. His rough tongue drew out to swipe across his dark lips as if blood still stained his muzzle a dark red, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused to others and the death he still wished to bring to a poor victim. So many sick desires plagued his thoughts and his mother's inquiry alone had dug up even more that lingered constantly at the back of his mind. 

There was silence for a while as he considered simply lying about his current residence, though he could not find it in him to do so, his mother seemed too innocent and oblivious. Surely lying would only cause him more grief. "Ah.... Blackfeather." Then he squinted, grimacing again in anticipation for her reaction. "I know you will not approve, but I found my place amongst the shadows. It's... where I belong." Yes, he had accepted the darkness that swallowed his soul to consume any light and leave him a soldier to the night, a soldier to the pain and the grief, for that was what he took most pleasure in. A sudden wave of an unknown emotion swept over him, and his eyes widened. "I'm... not who I was. I'm a monster, mother, you would be better staying away from me." Then he pulled away, gaze of ice drifting to the ground perhaps almost out of shame. "I don't want you to get hurt." The last sentence was a whisper, for he knew he could get out of control. The bloodlust too strong for him to contain, the beast one who could not be tamed.

The news that her baby boy was working under the title of her worst enemy should have struck her differently. She should have lashed out with venomous words and a critical eye towards her son, who certainly should be branded a traitor; should have pointed to the cotton-candy scar that would perpetually mar her fine spun muzzle, or should have rehashed the entire saga, from almost a year ago, that Aries had certainly been too young to understand before. As a mother, she should have cried and mourned for her baby’s lost happiness — happiness he surely would have known, and should have found, at her side.

But, Olive just wasn’t surprised. 

The fae blinked those big doe eyes, faceted emeralds cushioned in the creamy velvet of her visage, and drew her tongue across her lips as she thought about the proper response. Olive felt that very much weighed upon her next words, with her relationship with her son teetering on the edge of deeper than ever and eternally disgraced. She sucked in breath, held it for a moment, then spoke. 

“My child, you have been biting others since you were a cub. You think I did not know of your darkness?”

A small giggle punctuated her sentiments, distinguishing this new fact as something not inherently bad. In her heart of hearts, the sylph thought her son to be deeply confused and needing of a home — oh, how she understood that instinct! Olive wanted a home as much as she spurned it, and Olive too had pledged allegiance to heathens in the name of it. Mother was here now. “Oh, how you bothered Charon!” again, her voice was light and crystalline against the frigidity of the air — but her making light of the situation broke when Olive perceived Aries’s emotionality; felt is almost as a visceral upwelling in the pit of her own stomach.

With a sudden solemnity, Olive took a step closer and address the man — boy? — who stood before her. “Those wolves are monsters.” she spoke plainly and sincerely. “ But you — you are not a monster.” Different, yes? But a monster? No! These choices of his merely stemmed from misinformation, or a lack of education in societal ethics. It was not his doing, but hers for having driven him away so young. Almost as if she were reasoning with him, Olive’s voice broke. “You were just a baby.” she illustrated. Oh, her baby left alone in this world! The thought was heart-wrenching. 

Holding Aries’s gaze, Olive took yet another entreating step towards him. “Are you… happy, there? with them?” The fae wanted him to truly think about his answer, about his true potential, about what the legacy he would leave might be — and just as silence blanketed the two wolves, Olive yielded and told him straight forward what she was getting at.“You could come with me, stardust. We could be free together. We could fly away from here — far, far away.” Olive wasn’t sure if that was more for Aries’s sake or her own, but she would be remiss to deny either. Didn't this feel good? Didn't he want this goodness to continue?  

He awaited the cold words in silence, gaze trained upon the ground with a display that was so rare to see from the ashen youth. But those biting words never came, and instead he was faced with understanding. Knowing. Olive did not scorn him for his actions as he so expected, but rather spoke of knowing already that within Aries was a plaguing darkness - but did she know the true extent of the ravenous, bloodlusting beast? Perhaps not. 

The sylph spoke of Charon and how the Reaper had bothered him, and there was a certain lightness to her voice that he could not quite place. The words fell from her maw with something akin to amusement, and the young Svartell furrowed his brows in confusion. Had his actions not disappointed her? Surely she had been ashamed to have a son who disrespected his alphas back in Moonspear? Oh well, those times had passed and he was no longer so foolish.

Her joy was replaced suddenly with solemnity, more words following and trying to assure Aries that he was not a monster, but the rest of Blackfeather was. She seemed so determined to believe that her son was not such a deadly soldier, was not the beast he knew himself to be, but her attempts were met with a small shake of his head. "Ah, but you're wrong." Not often would he ever believe she was wrong in anything she did, but of this fact he was certain. "I have dark thoughts, I do dark things, there is something inside me that craves power and blood." He would not go into the full extent of his condition, but enough so that Olive would perhaps understand. "I have done many bad things and I will continue to do so... my thirst is never satiated." 

 You were just a baby.

The tone of which she spoke this made him cringe, gaze crumpling to the floor again as if sorrowful for his own nature. "I made the decision to leave that day." He explained, knowing it would likely hurt her (but again, what else did a monster do?), eyes peering up momentarily to his mother. He needed to explain what happened. "I encountered a black wolfess with a pelt of night dusted with stars. She called me Spiderling, asked me why I was not at home - I told her of Hydra and my dislike for her, and the girl told me I was stuck with her for the night because she would not allow me to wander back on my own." He recounted the meeting with a sparkle in his eye, that curiousity for her strange words drawing him in like a lure to a trap. "She spoke of who ruled the Night and promised to tell me their stories..." Aries closed his eyes for but a second, revelling in the fact that he had accepted her words. "She told me of the Woods and I listened, I listened to the stories and I remained in her presence." But he did not regret it, either - he felt almost as though he was always meant to go to Blackfeather. As if it was a domain destined to see his gaze. "She stopped then, did not tell me any more stories. Told me she could not tell me more unless I was to leave my young life behind and follow her to that dark kingdom - She said I could be a Spiderling, a Spiderling of the Speaker herself. Told me if I did not fear the consequences, I could go with her." His tongue swept out to run along the edge of his lips, tail flicking behind his rear. "And I... I did not fear the consequences. I wanted to know more, and I knew my place was not in Moonspear." So he had left without a single word. "I thought about returning a few times to bid farewell... but I found myself unwilling to go. Time passed and I never left on a journey back to Moonspear only to speak to you - These wolves I have found now, they are more like me." 

"If you feel hatred enough to call them monsters, then you are also calling me a monster - and this I already know. I am one of them, mother." There was his story, the reasons for his unexplained departure from Olive's life. Perhaps if he had remained, he could have stayed close by her side and been her own guardian of sorts, but alas - his place had never been there. "I would not say happy... you know I do not feel joy as others do. But I belong there, if that is what you mean." Oh, her next words struck him deep. For a moment, he wanted to say yes, wanted to accept her request and leave the confines of Blackfeather behind to begin a new life with Olive, but he could not. "I want that..." He confirmed, a low sigh of longing falling softly from his maw. "But I cannot. Maybe... maybe one day." But not yet, not now.

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.