Moonspear the birds, the bees, the storms and the trees

attn: @Yama backdating this to 12/31 also! after da meeting

 

There were some that were not yet sexually mature in their ranks; Hydra knew much of what she said went over their heads from her own experience alone. But still she required them there to hear her decree; let there be no doubt she had made it, by any. Now, though, Hydra had set herself aside to meet with those not of age, and even those that were that had been there. Arcturus, she had promptly realized, had been gone. 

Whether he heard her howl or not she could not be sure, but she was haunted with the terrible familiarity to the situation with their own mother. The day Amekaze had called and their father had ignored it—

He is not your father! 

Indeed not; he was her brother. Amekaze's son, too. Hydra held onto faith for now, but wondered if she was bound to be disappointed by him again in her lifetime. Wondered if he would lie to her if he pursued anyone, even by accident in his not knowing. Really she could not fault him for that, but she would fault him for his lie—

These thoughts were fear given life! They ran rampant and Hydra was quick to realize this, irate by her own impending season. Faith. She had faith in him. Faith in him that at the very least, if he had erred he would be honest with her; but the season had not yet begun. It did not truly occur to her how the last season effected her mind then, but she stifled the echoes of it. She had her duty to fulfill. 

And her duty now was to the young; Yama, too. 

Yama would be entering her first season without their mother. Hydra would have to shepherd her in and out of her season; she would be there for her, by her side. It was her Hydra sought out again, following her scent-trail and wondering how her mother had handled this. Yama was a decent enough guinea pig for her own children she supposed; she would just have to do her best, as she always would.

The day was not as cool as the ones before it, a type of warmth lingering in the air that she wished for all season long; she knew it would not last, sure to be chased out by the cold again come the evening. But, for the time being, she enjoyed it—the sun high overhead, warming her coat, and the wind vanished from the mountain. The weather brought the girl out of hiding and encouraged her to further explore the mountain, knowing that she should re-familiarise herself with all that she missed out on seeing, during her months of mourning. But, instead of something new, Yama soon found herself staring after her elder sister.

Wondering if she should approach, the girl slowed to an eventual stop and stared after her retreating form nervously. Would she be a bad sister if she did not greet her? After all the support and time that Hydra provided her with, especially during such trying times, she could not bring herself to not at least greet her sister. Swallowing her anxiety—a habit now, it seemed—she called out after her, voice as soft as can be: “Hydra?”

The matriarch turned her head in the direction Yama's voice sounded from; having hoped to come across her, her tail swayed as she adjusted her course to meet her. Her ears pricked as Yama came into her line of sight, and the Ostrega moved to nose the tawny she-wolf who would soon be girl no more. 

Yama, she greeted to start with. It was good to see her out and moving around; Hydra let her sister mourn but given the new season could hardly endure it anymore. Track with me, she half-invited, tail still swaying. The Queen found it difficult to be idle, and the energy of all to come had her itching to be ever-moving.

The greeting was all the same, helping to soothe her nerves. Hydra, despite everything, had a way of putting the girl at ease. Minor words, an offering to track, and she felt a bit more confident in her being there. “What are we tracking?” she asked, curious. Prey? Something else? Yama was hardly a hunter and was yet to put any time into practising her tracking skills—but perhaps now was an opportunity to do exactly that.

A rabbit warren, she informed, and if the rabbits that once lived there still do, post the famine. And if they moved, hopefully we can find where, her tail waved. Hydra knew where the warren was at least... and they were heading in the right direction. Yama looked well, better than she had... it seemed she was on the road to recovery. 

I wanted to also speak with you a bit more about heat, too, while we are together... I think this will be the first year you may come into it, she thought aloud. It is... a different time. Typically a scent comes from it, but there is a new allure to men. You feel like a fire has lit within, she recalled her own first heat, and you want to smother it... and the only satisfying way, that your mind tells you, is to breed. So I wanted to ask a favor of you. If you feel this way... come to me. I will protect you, as I always will, she requested, her gaze having landed back to the path ahead only to return to her sister. Breeding begets children, and you do not yet have a mate to raise those children with, she explained as she had in the meeting, but in far more words. 

Hydra looked back to the path once more, but her attentions were for Yama. Unless... are there any men in your life yet, sister? She drawled with much interest, voice warm as her gaze again fell to her. Likely not, given all of her time here and not elsewhere... but Hydra was interested in her sisters life, and was certain there was much she did not know of her that she dearly wished to.

To locate rabbits was the goal, which sounded easy enough; Yama knew rabbits well, their scent and patterns. Perhaps this was something she could truly assist with. She kept pace with her elder sister, sniffing here and there—then slowed to a stop, stumbling. Only a moment later did she recollect herself and was following along once more, albeit not as closely.

“I don’t want to breed,” she uttered, having no issues with the request. Breeding was far from her mind, not even making it onto her regular list of thoughts. “If I feel like... that... I’ll come to you.” Part of her hoped she would not, the idea alone concerning. She didn’t want to feel a fire and, more so than that, she did not want to smother it if she did.

Again, the younger of the pair stopped, only this time her fur bristled with uncertainty—and, perhaps, a dash of embarrassment. “N-no!” she declared, taken aback by the question. “There’s no one... I like being by myself.” When you spent the majority of your time holed up in, well, a literal hole, talking to boys wasn’t exactly of top priority.