Swiftcurrent Creek la neta

she loves drama so im sending her right in

for days silvertongue had lain despondent in her den until the message from swiftcurrent had come, a message about an odd woman lurking. it was important enough to be passed along, and so she seized upon this moment with desolate relief, using it to lever herself out of this morass. she washed, she put each hair of her pelt into place, combing until it shone. silvertongue rolled in the new roses and carried their petals along her withers as she slipped from shadow to shadow and departed riverclan. the borders of the creek soon beckoned, and she put on a practiced, cunning smile, stopping to announce herself. her flanks, thankfully, had flattened somewhat.

Tag for reference.

Time was running faster than he appreciated—the many directions he needed to be, and yet his main priority, he knew with great guilt, should be in the den with his trio of children. Still, for now he had asked a surprised @Swordfish to watch them for the moment—slipping away to ensure the creek had not caught fire in the most recent drama.

Oh, but it had—not figuratively, but he stared at the bloody mess of where the carcass of what had once been a baby coyote. His frown darkened—his teeth baring slightly as the scent of the Swamp Witch clung still to the area. It left him uneasy. Enough so that he was eager to return quickly to his children, and made a sharp, veering turn along the borders.

But it was Silvertongue he found first, his pace slowing—his eyes hollow as he studied her, missing the usual passion he felt when in her presence. “Hey,” he offered, pausing. “C’mon,” he offered, turning, moving further into the land and toward Jakoul’s den, not waiting to see if she would take up his invitation.

akavir looked quite harried. silvertongue smoothly fell into step with him, though she internally hesitated as she caught the scents of young children clinging around him, as if he had been wrapped in a nursery blanket. ah. the woman from months ago. but she said nothing, noting the strain on akavir as well. silence was necessary, and she kept it, meaning to do so until he spoke.

He moved in silence—putting off the moment he would need to ask the silver woman for such a monumental favor. Finally, when they came to the den, he ushered Shardik away with a quiet thank you, excusing the yearling before finally turning to fully regard the she-wolf, though one ear flickered at the sound of soft sleeping in the den—the pups seemingly exhausted these days.

“Their mother is missing,” he began softly, tired eyes focusing back on to the Star of Riverclan. “Did you get our messenger? I sent Jasmine to inform of you of the recent dangers in the valley.”

their mother. your lover? but silvertongue sensed he would have the same import placed upon this had he been unrelated. he was that sort of man: a father. she thought of all she had done to at last rid herself of motherhood and tried to fight the sear low in her heart. "i did." she stepped close to the denmouth with an appraising glance, then toward akavir once more. "do you know which way she went?"

Silvertongue took in his words—a stolen glance offered to the mouth of the den, and harried as he was, he wasn’t quite sure who the ‘she’ was Silvertongue referred to. “The swamp witch?” Aptly names, he decided, upon her coaxing him toward the swamps before running from a fight. A coward. “I found her in the marsh and managed to get a piece of her, but she took off into the grove.”

He paused—then, quietly. “Unless you mean their mother… in which case, I have absolutely no idea.” His tongue slides across his lips, his eyes fixating on her. “Silvertongue…. I hate to ask, but… is there a nursing mother in Riverclan with spare milk? They’re not fully weaned… They should really have more, and…” His lips pressed tighter. “I can’t ask our other mother here. I can’t trust her with them.”

silvertongue had meant the mother, but she listened as akavir recounted what sounded like a grave reason for his frustration. his words evoked another painful twinge inside her. "i can ask ash paw," she said aloud at last. her eyes were fraught with concern, though ironically it was mostly for akavir. "how many?" she would not want to overload the woman as she nursed her other children.

They had a mother, it seemed—Ash Paw. “Three,” was his response, though his eyes were fast upon the den entrance. The pups should have been moving to a different den site—exploring their home bit by bit, becoming more accustom to their pack mates and culture in general. And now he had to decide if they should be whisked off to another pack—to a woman they did not know—who despite best intentions, would never be a replacement for their mother.

The battles he had seen, had fought… They were nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that clung to him now, and he was reminded of that desperate feeling that had culminated in the Empire with his previous children—that no decision would have a good outcome.

“I can bring them in a couple days time. I will stay and hunt for Ash Paw, if that is okay?”

He needed to be here, as well. But there would not be a world in which he would send his children to a stranger and not be there for them—not when their whole world, their mother, had already disappeared.

silvertongue touched his paw. "that is all right. we will hunt for her also." she meant for akavir not to overload himself, not to stress himself. "they will be safe. crowfeather i am sure will not be far." he wanted children, after all, a reminder that speared her gut even as she smiled prettily up toward the swiftcurrent man. "i will go and tell them, si? we will wait for your arrival." on impulse she went to offer a brush of encouraging kiss to his cheek, arched on tiptoe.

Silvertongue was curbed in her usual sass—a kiss planted upon his cheek as she insisted they would be safe and all would be well—he need not stress.

It was thoughtful of her—but his heart wrenched at the thought of pulling his kids from their home—their safe den, where the last remaining scent of their mother lingered. He gave a quiet nod—already, his mind going through the check list of what he would need to do to travel. “Thank you,” he offered the woman—his own voice hollow, his thoughts elsewhere.


In the wake of traumatizing his children and pulling them from the only safety they had ever known, the only silver lining he could bring from it was that the swamp witch was less likely to try anything with Riverclan.