Wapun Meadow when i was a younger man, looking for a pot of gold

@Aurëwen - tags for reference

it had done indra some good to be back in bearclaw valley -- while she would never admit to to @Xan, the fishbowl valley had been her home. she often drifted in its pine-studded halls in a nostalgic trance, sometimes detecting faint scents of @Nunataq, sometimes catching @Laurel and @Lucas out and about. @Marten stayed devoutly by her side most of the time, but today indra had left him with his aunt to hunt alone.

her endeavor took her outside of bearclaw's stony fort, into the sunlit swath of of wapun meadow, where the ground was largely flat and the going easy. it hadn't taken much to run down the old hare she had tracked, and she presently sat sphinxlike in a wide beam of sunlight, the hare clutched absentmindedly between her paws as the redleaf sunned, overwhelmed in thorny thought.

Her son’s affinity for gnawing at dirt hadn’t gone unnoticed by the ivory mother; it was his wont, and whenever he meant to digest it, she enacted sentinel to make sure there would be no painful yarping. Because she watched  ( often returning with more half-eaten meat to regurgitate and supply for milk )  she didn’t feel she was to blame. Not anymore, at least, when Mahler had affirmed an unending of the soil-snacking, and given her proceedures to ensure Drago's safety.

For now, she waded through her river of depression by seeing the children sat — nearly a month old, it shouldn’t be a problem — and hastening towards Wapun. Loathe as Aure was to return to this specific place, the silver was low on meat, and the game flourished here. With a resolute shove to mute the nagging criticisms of her mind, she set about at once to single out a rabbit for herself; the chase was fleeting, and she caught a lame-footed hare, anyways.

It wasn’t until her sides were heaving from the minute hunt that she noticed— a vaguely-familiar she-wolf? Aurëwen gazed, half-wonder and half-curiosity, but— she should eat, first. Eyes left the acquaintance for a while, curving into herself with wariness, before she began to tuck into lunch. Should she be pursued, she could easily make a dash for the Lake once more.

imbued as she was in bitter thought, indra reflected back on all that had transpired in bearclaw's depths. she thought of xan, and reigi - she thought of the strange man and his posse of wives (a most unorthodox and untenable thing, if you had asked her), she thought of laurel's ascension to leadership and their bitter departure.

she thought of merrick, unruly prince of bearclaw - a crowned tyrant uprooted to peonic station in lost creek hollow. a frown fluttered across her features; her son, who had chosen to stay while his mother left him behind.

in a fit of anger she suddenly tore into the hare, rending it with aggrieved snips of her teeth. in doing so, she saw a silvery apparition in the corner of her eyes. indra stiffened, focusing the full-bore of her angry gaze on the woman, who undeservingly had earned her spite simply by witnessing her small tantrum.

but indra softened her stiffened shoulders, casting her acrid gaze aside in quiet apology. the woman had done nothing but simply be present, and indra ruefully allowed her ears to fall back as she called to the pale sprite. "you're that woman from the river."

Argent eyes flickered up in time to meet the furious embers of the other; the look startled her, and she lost purchase on her food. As it dashed down the wrong pipe, Aure's throat constricted, beginning a series of heaving, scrawling gags under the words of "You're that" — retching and spluttering — "woman from the river." What? Squinting through tearful eyes, Aure could barely make out the simmering she-wolf's face. "S-sorry, I..."

Rubbing a pale paw into her cheeks and muzzle, she blinked several times, and took another look. ...Oh! It was the loner from along the coast, when— "I... I was on a forage, at that time." Foreign voice hoarse, and she took a moment to clear her throat primly, warily rising to her paws. "I, er, do not mean to intrude. Again." It was the time where she'd whisked Opalia away, speaking of botanical diseases, and couldn't help the inner fretting for the girl. Was she well in the world?

whoops -- indra couldn't say her deadly looks had managed to make many wolves choke (certainly not the ones she wanted to choke and die, anyway). she rose abruptly as the woman spluttered, her features alarmed up until aurewen managed to choke out an undignified answer. "are you okay? oh god, i -- i'm sorry -- jesus christ."

she really hadn't meant to startle the woman; speared by guilt, she managed an apologetic smile and tried to steer the conversation to a lighter mood. "you're a far way away from the beach."

Aure parted her lips to reply as the auburn she-wolf began to make her way over. At first, only a very undignified wheeze answered Indra’s concern, and her ears pressed slick to the curve of her ivory neck with embarrassment of her own. Another followed, but it was a raspy, meek ”I think I will not die today.” Was this how Verx felt?

Her greyed heart constricted at the thought, as if a giant had snatched that pulsing part of her and squeezed. Tail feathered about sheepishly, giving a stuttering huff to clear her throat once more, and abandoned the musing in the same breath. Not now.

”Ah, y-yes. I— well, my family and I took leave due to instigations from our contenders. Our pack on ze cliffs dispersed soon after.” They were a family, weren’t they? For all their faults? Biting at scarred lips, Aure pawed absently at her own hare. “I—“ she squeaked, cleared her throat again, “I am Aurëwen.”

relieved to hear the woman speak (even despite the undignified rasp that wheezed past the silver's lips), indra's alarm gently faded, replaced with a more humble sense of guilt for having been the wolf to prompt aurewen's near-demise.

returning to the hare she had left behind, indra's expression was empathic as aurewen mentioned strife on the coast pushing her inward. she considered herself lucky to have missed such grief during her tenure on the coast. her features sullied with a slight frown: "is it dangerous out there? i was just visiting. it seemed.. well, it seemed so peaceful. how'd you end up in diaspora, of all places?" indra knew there were many packs midland, and could not help but have a slight ruefulness enter her tone as she thought of all stigmata had accomplished.. and all she had squandered.

During the moments of quiet, where she listened, Aure picked quietly at her catch; eating much slower than how she’d gobbled everything down only moments ago. Ears flickered with thought at Indra’s question, then, “It was peaceful... for a time. Uneasy, and restless, but... there was peace. Before ze final incident, I considered proposing a truce with ze ones of ze Sound. Up until then, I’d never considered them a real enemy.” Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she still did.

Aure ruffled her fur out; gave her head a mild shake. She didn’t know, as much as she wished to brand Caiaphas enemy. Anyways...

”Instead, I proposed we move to Diaspora. I’ve been here once, some moons ago... Though it was quite a trek, it seemed a suitable place to give birth. I put my trust in strangers, for ze sake of my children, for ze ones who followed me. They could have left me to this journey on my own.” Even if the Luks and Verx had followed their kru to Trigeda... at least Aur would’ve had Blodreina. And her brother, undoubtedly. ”But, they did not. So, we are here, now.”

For how long, though? And if Diaspora ever meant to act on its nomadic claim in the coming moons, when would that be? With a family of her own, and a broadening of her horizons, Aurëwen couldn’t help but hope for something... more, someday. Something of her own founding. For now, though... Diaspora would do, and had been promising so far.

indra knew a thing or two about leaving — both withstanding, and going. she shared a sympathetic smile, relieved on aurewen’s behalf that at least she had not endured her exodus in solitude.

it was a sorry tale, but it sounded as if their fleeing chapter had netted them some safety. as much as she resented stigmata, she knew the imperial basilisk to be a frightful protector: aurewen and her kith would be safe in diaspora.

that sounds very hard, indra commented, dryly glancing towards diaspora’s borders. but you and your family are in capable hands now. stigmata would let nothing happen to you. how many little doves did you whelp? indra’s gaze grew sentimental — she loved puppies, and felt she might have missed something this year, having no whelps to tend to (even if they were not her own). she did not wish her own this season, still ashamed of her handling of merrick, but a longing crept into her voice all the same.

Whatever uncertainties she’s had towards Stigmata’s claim — both terrain and the basilisks’ own word — tentatively faded beneath the assuredty of Indra’s insight. That Diaspora was capable in itself had been a hunch, brought on by the inkling Aure’d registered when she first traveled down, seeking her brother.

When the time came to part from Drageda, the iron-clad’s residence had been the first she’d sought out; if they’d been turned from the spires, then Easthollow would’ve been her next choice. And if they’d been turned from that... she and Blodreina would’ve certainly given birth without the security  ( and comfort ) of a pack, no matter how small or dwindling it was.

Which brought her attention back to Indra, just in time for her inquiry of little doves. Regardless of all the motherly mistakes she’d mafe — she cherished them dearly, dearer than dear could ever wish to be. “Two, actually.” Her balaur and belea; earth-nibbler and ankle-biter. “From ze way they kicked in my womb, though, it felt as if I’d deliver ten.”

Lips thinned to keep a trill of laughter suppressed, and when she looked towards the spires, some of the old gleam in her eyes seemed reinvigorated. “My first litter, too.” Some of the mirth, before that domestic stumble. “If it isn’t too invasive... do you have children, of your own?”

indra looked to aurewen hopefully, that hope transcending to rekindled yearning as the silvery argent shared the bounty of her luck, naming two whelps for the redleaf. a threadbare but appreciative smile ghosted indra’s lips, for she knew well the pitfalls of motherhood. she too had expected many — only to birth a single life like a besotted and rotted cow.

they sound lovely. what are their names? she searched aurewen’s features, drinking in that fleeting emotion of love that danced across the pale dove’s eyes. she missed that adoration, that buzzing bliss, the suspension of fear and worry replaced with nothing but the most natural worship of a child. aurewen’s question caused a flinch to ripple in indra’s countenance, and she did not hide the pain that darkened her eyes as she spoke. i have one son; merrick. the pile of puppies born dead flashed in her mind, her womb a wretched cairn in which no life seemed to prosper save one. what would those little lives had been like, if they had lived? he will be a year come june. it is a wonderful thing, motherhood — for those who want it.

Only the hesitance that came with the veils of motherhood was what kept Aure from answering that threadbare smile right away — and the addendum in Indra’s voice as she spun her own tail. The auburn female chose not to hide the anguish from her overall countenance; and so Aurëwen didn’t tuck away the solemnity that cast itself over her wan features.

The only solace she could give was a further moment of silence; dipping her chin and letting lashes fall to cheekbone. “Wind guide them.” She’d heard of children lost during delivery, and not a day went by where she wouldn’t thank her Celestium that her own were hearty and breathing and living. Had Verx and herself not been so fortunate, especially after so much turmoil... But to hear that Merrick was alive and  ( hopefully )  well did gladden the silver.

”Being a mother, I... sometimes, I would wish for it; most of ze time, I would not. I never let myself hope for so much. I never thought I would have pups from ze male I’ve come to love. I...” Never thought I deserved it. She shook her head then, ending her reprieve in favor for names instead: “A boy, Dragomir; a girl, Isilmë.” ... I hope I deserve it. Them.

wind guide them. sharply, the redleaf woman looked upwards. not in unkindness, not in disdain -- but in interest, hope renewed. wind guide them. it seemed so simple - it called to no god for invocation, required no worship of abstract and remote idols. it was perfect -- the hedonist's prayer.

"wind guide them," she murmured, gaze low.

had she known aurewen did not think she would ever deserve the lives that suckled at her breast, indra would have keenly glanced upon her again and spared her no sharp lecture; women, she thought, deserved whatever it was their hearts desired. if it was pups, or motherhood, so be it.

their names rolled off the tongue in a manner that was soft and pleasing. indra repeated both inwardly, a smile unfurling gently. "those are pretty names." it had been her opinion that the prettiest names were often the most lofty and exotic -- how simple and dredging her name seemed in comparison..

"the male -- is he still with you?" indra had not missed that there was no 'mate' intoned in those words. "is he not your mate?" an injustice flashed behind her mahogany eyes, but for now she kept her resentment of men tight-lidded.

A smile of her own, hesitant and timid, arrived in answer to Indra’s verdict on her children’s names. But when quieried of the male, it faltered, and it was with a whetting of her lips that she adverted her gaze for endless heartbeats. Mate, my mate, minecame that covetous, simmering murmur from so long ago. — Oh, how she wished; how it alit each nerve, each ebb within her. He would always thrum within her blood.

“He has been with me, ever since I came to him of this, and accepted ze pups as his own. Not my... my mate,” a flicker in her slim jaw, eyes shying and elusive, pulse aching in her breast, ”but he has loved ze children ever since he felt them.” Just as he’d promised to raise them with her, Aure had vowed to let him come about in his own time. She’d  thought with their shared studies of their children, they might’ve been on the mend.

Regardless of her yearning for his mind, his heart, she understood Verx stayed out of ardor for their Drago, their Isi. She very much doubted he felt for her whatever Mahler believed. Especially in this dreary week, and why there’d ever been another rift between them to begin with. A rift of her own making.

If I look back... Aurëwen could only look ahead, now. She could wallow in her mistakes and despondency, or she could resume falling into the mother she’d meant to be. With a shiver, she mused, ”Even if he had left me, he did not. He chose to raise them alongside me without my asking. It... it is as much as I can ask for. For now.”

indra's own expression faltered alongside aurewen's, reciprocating the brief trouble that toiled her features. she did not like where this was heading, truth be told -- already her mind hammered aurewen's faceless would-be-mate as the villain, the dog, the cur worth not even a slip of moss.

only, this man seemed to have stayed; he did not take aurewen as her mate (why? came that insistent voice, rude and prying) but he did not leave her behind either. she thought of tadec, and how their roles were not so different. her little crow had loved her dear, but they had never been mates. he was merrick's father, but he was not indra's mate.

she found if she had anything cruel to say, she would be a hypocrite. so, she kept her cutting remarks on aurewen's suitor to herself.

"i guess that is good," indra started, trying to stay positive.. and yet, trying wasn't doing, and before long there was a spill of venomous thoughts to fuel her words, coloring her tone. "you know what someone once told me?" she prompted suddenly, a glint in her eye as she relayed "love the cock, ignore the mouth." indra spoke it ruefully, letting it sink in with a brief lapse of silence. "i don't think she was wrong. were it not for the fact men men came out of their mothers and stuck their dicks in others, i don't think they'd have much use for women at all. we're either mothers or lovers for them, little else. just teats to suckle or sheaths in which to plunge their swords when they're bored."

after this tirade indra fell silent, but it was not shame she felt -- it was injustice.

At Indra’s try at positivity, Aure offered a wan, quivery curl of her own attempt at a smile; and as Indra contemplated what to say next, the silver thought she’d take this moment to feast a bit on her neglected hare. ”You know what someone once told me?” — argent eyes found the auburn’s, wondering and distracted. ”Love the cock—“ 

That was as far as she listened.

With a stuttering half-squeak, half-snort, the bit of bone she’d been ruminating over leapt down her throat. For the second time that day, she nearly died by rabbit. But she leapt to her paws, coiled in on herself, and heaved and heaved and heaved; yachking and sending spittle flying; drool ribboned down her chin, tears down her cheeks. All the while, she wheezed with a terrible definition of what might have been laughter.

And so, once the lodged bone was finally gagged up, the laughter came in full; and Aurëwen spent most of the tirade wilting right onto her back and properly laughing her ass off.

She wanted to say that ”You should tell that to my brother!” but what she gasped out instead was: ”Youshoudlvetodlmybrotheu-rh!” that pinched off into a girlish, unladylike squeal. Goddamn— she smacked her forepaws over her scarred muzzle in mortification and unfettered glee to silence herself— but even then, tearful giggles still came.

It was about time she went mad.

so, she choked again. jesus christ, indra, stop causing havoc with the natives it would have been a spectacular display of a choke for anyone unaffected watching: there was spittle, dribble, and sputters - the three things that truly made for a majestic choke .. only indra wasn't unaffected, and immediately winged to aurewen's position to perform a -- god, what do wolves even do, heimlich remover in the manner of a swift kick to the head?

as soon as she lit aside aurewen, the bone dislodged. it arced in the air, a slender and inoffensive thing to have caused so much turmoil, and indra's eyes followed its journey with wide worry as it clattered to the ground and sunk into fronds of grass. more perplexing yet, was the delirious laughter that followed. rounding on aurewen with the suspicion maybe two chokes in two minutes had cracked the argent, indra drew aside aurewen and met her teary gaze with concern.

and then something incredible happened. much the way the tiniest blade of grass manages to grow in a crack of lifeless stone, much the way a single drop of water foretells the presence of a gale, a trickle of laughter left indra's lips. soft at first, it was scarcely more than a giggle -- but then it collected momentum, made infectious by aurewen's own hysterical laughter (and the subsequent coy gesture to stifle it with the press of a slim paw) -- until at last she was rendered helpless by giggles alongside the silvery queen, laughing at the irony and the ridiculousness of it all.

She couldn't remember the last time she laughed so shamelessly, so freely, in great, unladylike guffaws; but Aure laughed until her sides ached and her ribs begged for easement. Maybe she'd been this gleeful with Blackbear, or Vonnaruil, but either memory was bleary, and either too lapsing or too early in her life to truly remember. Perhaps she would laugh this way with her son and daughter, if she ever brought them to this bursting glen. And, perhaps, when things weren't so irritable between them, when they muscled their way past their own dilemmas... perhaps she might laugh this way with the father. 

Those petering thoughts of Drago and Isi eased the cramping that'd taken to her taut-tender belly. Verx -- her beloved, even if this springly, fever-driven folly had brought her faults to light and her existence was a nuisance to Stigmata's claim. Entirely, she'd learned, she'd matured further, and there would be no good in dwelling on should've-could've. Entirely, the silver was determined to look only ahead from now on.

It wasn't long til Aurëwen eventually quieted with a few trembly pants, languished upon her quiversome side, and soon straggled to dainty paws. "I should return to ze children, all ze same." Casting a rueful, argent-eyed glimmer at the hare she'd most certainly lost an appetite for, she rasped to Indra, "Well, before... before this neindropa strangles me again." Not exactly what she wished to say, but the mother looked over a thin shoulder, regardless, towards the alpine rises.

eventually their paired laughter ceased. indra's sides were sore, her cheeks brimming, but it was in good humor for once. as the argent's light laughter trickled off, indra's giggles subsided until at last all that was between them was the cheery pip of springtime birds.

indra looked expectantly to aurewen as she spoke, announcing her leave. sad as she was to see their meeting come to an end, indra nodded in understanding. once, she had been tied to her baby's side -- it was a tether unbreakable, and she gave the devoted mother a warm smile.

"maybe avoid hare for a while." she teased, rising to her feet with a gentle flourish. "oh -- i'm indra. farewell, aurewen. wind guide you." indra slipped the invocation from earlier into her farewell, giving aurewen an approving dip of her head before she collected her hare and returned to the sunny patch she had been resting upon.

she could not remember the last time she had laughed so freely -- she wished the ghostly silver well as she disappeared around the alpine rise. maybe someday, indra would see her again -- but for now, she was in a rare state of contentment as she settled in the grass to piece (and properly chew) her meal.