Blacktail Deer Plateau gold

tamar settled into raventhorpe.

adding her scent to the borders, digging caches, patrolling here and there gave her a new sense of worth.

it also kept her mind from the fact her two sons had dispersed upon the merger's end, leaving tamar with four children scattered to the wind and a silent husband.

her time was coming; it would be hard and fast. tamar considered sequestering herself for it, then in another moment decided to leave the plateau altogether for that week.

she drifted as the shadows lengthened, pale eyes filled with hurt.

Arsenio was silent and withdrawn.

Saleem and Sylianos followed in the footsteps of their older siblings—drifting away on the wind.

Meadow was far too aware of the heartache that came when family left you, and so it was with wistful knowing that she looked upon Tamar now. A rust-colored ear flicked forward at the gentle sound of one of winter’s remaining birds. Spring, perhaps, would bring new promise.

She skirted forward, silent, a wisp of a thing—sidling up beside Tamar and leaning into the woman. “Sister,” she greeted—a reminder that they had chosen one another not by blood, but from bond.

"sister."

a sigh colored their shared air. she fell into step with meadow and did not speak for a long while as the pine-scented air carried wintertime bite into their hackles.

it was so very different here.

"i do not think i will have more children." the tone in her voice would say it was not her choice. but slowly, tamar was wondering; why only suffer after raising them for so short a time?

Greeted by the woman—Meadow waited, still, for she knew there was something Tamar wished to say.

When she spoke, Meadow allowed the statement to linger between them for another small stretch—pondering over the meaning of her words, and where this might stem from.

Tamar’s brood had left at such young ages—Meadow could not only imagine the heartache from this, but as one who had spent a lifetime until recently losing every family member and friend one held dear—time and time again—she could understand the desire to protect and preserve what little sanity and heart remained rather than be torn down once more with abandonment and heartache.

“Have you spoken to Arsenio about this?” There was no judgement that colored her words—simply a gentle coax for further information.

she shook her head.

"he is loving. he is here. but he is not. i think that the move from the vale hurt his heart," tamar whispered, ears wilting.

and while they were both wilted flowers in a hot garden, neither could think of moving forward.

"but —" she wanted them again. she wanted to try again.

“But?”

A gentle coax—her eyes beseeching as she looked to her beautiful friend. She was a wilted flower, certainly so—but oh, how Meadow knew she would bloom.

She watched her friend—her sister—with the utmost concern in that moment. Arsenio might have ached, surely, for they did not belong on this plateau, in the background of these other wolves.

But it was not for him in which she defended—it was for Tamar.

“Zosime once told me you and Arsenio are Kunosoura,” she murmured, the gentlest smile tracing her lips despite the ache in her heart as she remembered the spirited girl. How she missed her. “The most important star. All of the other stars circle around you.”

kunosoura.

vision blurring; lashes beaded with sorrow.

"i miss her. i miss antigone. i miss zulema. and the boys, oh. saleem. sylianos. why did they all leave so fast, meadow?"

an intake. a sob. she knew her sister could not answer. "i feel alone in the sky."