Shadewood all the saints of notre dame

She’d always loved the place where she’d been born and raised, though it had taken leaving Redtail Rise for Masquerade to truly understand just what it meant to her. For the first time in her life, she could choose it. And she was on the verge of doing just that over breakfast of days-old venison, her appetite suddenly fleeing as she worked up the nerve to break the news to @Riley.

As she chewed her final mouthful and tried to swallow it past the sudden lump in her throat, she gazed at the top of his bent head. Masque didn’t often speculate about their offspring, especially lately, but suddenly her imagination ran rampant with images of young wolf cubs, brownish gray with little red faces. She pictured them running after their father through dappled woods, with Masque herself bringing up the rear.

She choked suddenly. She pawed at her mouth, though luckily the hunk of meat came up easily and she managed to spit it on the ground without further complication. Masque recovered with a few deep breaths and shot Riley a reassuring look, though a strange expression lingered on her red face. She swallowed convulsively, both her spit and her words.

A while later, she wended through the woods, eyes sharp and nares twitching. Above the interlocking tree branches overhead, the sky was patchy. It looked as though it might snow. But every so often, Masque caught a fleeting glimpse of a winter sunbeam arcing between endless rows of stately elms and oaks.

Things were starting to look up, or at least Riley thought so. Their bellies were full — and other than the upsetting discovery of Ashlar and Masque’s briefly concerning choke — Riley enjoyed their little expedition.

He found himself wandering the old forest, noticing the trees here were different than those at the rise. Not that he’d ever considered it before, but he found he preferred the tall and largely silent conifers of the Rise and Bearclaw.

Trotting to Masque with his tail loosely swinging, Riley found her caught between a sunbeam and a pair of tall oaks. He pressed his head to her cheek in their trademark greeting, stepping back to drink in the view. Nice place. Kind of quiet. What do you think?

A small huff escaped her as she turned her eyes upon her mate. Her lips curved upward and her tail swung. Masque stayed still as he pressed his crown against her face, nipping fondly at his whiskers when he eventually retreated. His query was met with a slightly distracted expression.

I think that when I pictured our children earlier, I saw them here and not at the rise, she admitted softly. Riley, she said in the very next breath, head tilting to hold his gaze, I was ready to tell you I think we should go back, even though I’m not sure what kind of welcome we’d receive. But then I thought…

Her brow furrowed. Masquerade paused to collect her thoughts and sort out how to articulate them. She sighed out another breath.

It’s not really about the literal backdrop: the rise vs these woods, for instance. But I don’t want to raise our children in a place that feels so unstable. No matter how much I miss them—and I do, I miss them so damn much, Riley—I can’t sacrifice the future for the past.

She shook her gray head. Did any of that make any sort of sense? Her face fell and her head dropped, though only momentarily. She dragged her golden gaze back to Riley’s, begging him to help her decide for them, once and for all.

The playful nip at his whiskers was met with a sloppy lick — take that, Masquerade.

Riley suppressed the jolt of surprise he felt to learn she’d been thinking of children. With him.

A warmth fanned its way across his chest, but then he noticed apprehension darken her face, and the words that came next were fraught and worried.

He wished he could take all this uncertainty, wrap it in a ball, and throw it as far as he could into the sea. He nudged her gently, trying best to think of how to frame his response.

After a while, he spoke.

I don’t think I’ve told you much about my childhood. This wasn’t going to be a trauma dumping session, but Riley needed her to know he knew all too well about family instability. But it was very difficult. Understatement of the century; my aunt tried to drown me, my mother couldn’t love me, I fell in step with cultists, my cousin-uncle thing tried to kill me — in summation, just a lot. It didn’t make me better. It just made me damaged.

He pressed his head to her again. I’m thrilled you would think of children with me. I want them to grow up in a place that is stable and kind. They deserve it. You deserve it. You love your family, but Your family tends to reward the wrong things. I don’t want our children to experience what you — or I — have experienced. So of course, I don’t want to return. I would though, if you wanted to - because the most important thing for me is you, not where I live.

Encouraging you to abandon a huge part of you is selfish. And you could resent me down the line for tearing you from your family. It has to come from you.

It has to be what you want.

Her lips parted when Riley broke his contemplative silence to mention his childhood. Her mouth closed, jaw clenching even tighter the more he said. Masquerade wanted to refute his claim about damage, though she didn’t interrupt him. She took in every word with shining eyes.

He used a word that made her ugly laugh in her head: “kind.” The rise was many things, though that wasn’t one of them. They were fierce, loyal and even attentive in their own primal fashion. But half the wolves there couldn’t even speak to each other, much less connect on a deeper level. And even those who could sometimes didn’t…

Masque couldn’t help but think of Redd, refusing to talk to her, likely because vulnerability had no place among the Redtails, much less with its Wealda. She thought of Ashlar too, her kindred spirit who had likewise not fit the mold. She reflected on all the times she’d felt like she just didn’t quite mesh with the rise, despite her love and loyalty, and how she would never want her offspring to feel that way.

But, truthfully, the only thing that mattered was Riley saying, “So, of course I don’t want to return.”

Yes, I want to have your children, she said to him, reaching out for a nuzzle. You—and them—are my priority now.

It wouldn’t be easy, nor quick, but Masquerade would just have to let go of Redtail Rise entirely. The thought alone made her ears sweep back uncertainly for a moment, before she righted them and looked Riley in the eye.

I haven’t felt very confident lately, much less like an Alpha female, but… if we’re all in, Riley, we need to choose a territory and begin claiming it.

In some ways the Rise was not unlike Riley's early childhood. If only he knew the irony.

His ear flicked back as Masquerade reached to nuzzle him; in that moment he reached back, needing the physical affirmation. You're my priority. He promised back, pulling away only reluctantly.

Disbelief distilled with excitement in his belly. This was a big step, them talking about children. Riley had never contemplated himself as a father - but as he looked at Masquerade, he knew she would be a fiercely protective mother. His gaze roved over her lovingly. Somehow, he had landed in her circle.

He was sorry to learn she hadn't felt confident but it made sense. How unstable had the Rise been? It was hard to build your confidence when your foundation was constantly rocked. Somewhere off the grid to start. Do you have a preference for .... He looked around them: super tall trees or stunted ones? We could start there, figure out where a good food source is, and work from there.

“Somewhere off the grid,” Riley said and Masquerade could only nod with a grim look on her face. In some idyllic alternate universe, she would’ve liked to be neighbors with the rise. But she knew Redd would never stand for it, which gave them no choice but to stay as far away as possible.

Her head canted as she considered his question. Did she have any preferences? Masque looked around themselves for a moment. She thought of her pine tree back on the rise with a sharp intake of breath. She honestly couldn’t decide if she wanted to be someplace that reminded her of her first home or somewhere that was nothing like it at all.

I like these trees, she said, motioning at Shadewood, and we managed to hunt a doe here. But I know we haven’t seen much of anywhere, so we should scout some places before we make a final decision, she thought aloud.

She lapsed into thought for a second, still trying to sort out her preferences. Perhaps, like making the decision to choose a territory in the first place, she could defer to Riley in this.

What about you? What sorts of landscapes do you prefer? Aside from the ocean, she added, wrinkling her nose and laughing good-naturedly.

Riley’s gaze slid up to the trees as Masque spoke of them; he wondered what fruit hid in that canopy, how many squirrels and potential meals made their homes there.

Shadewood was not a bad place. And while Riley would have also loved to run alongside the wolves of the Rise, like his mate, he doubted that things between them and the Rise would be civil enough for such ventures.

Somewhere with forest cover that has only one or two water sources would be nice; good hunting grounds, protection. Maybe we look around for a den, and that decides where we settle. Somewhere… He paused, a small blush rising to his face. our children could grow and play in safety. He imagined them frolicking in a pinestraw studded clearing, beams of sunlight glancing down and dappling the sienna colored floor — how he wanted this vision to come to life!

She made a mental checklist as her mate spoke, keen to get him everything he wanted. They’d come this far, this was no time to settle. Her tail lashed determinedly, then slowed to a softer wag when Riley made a point to choose their territory based on its offerings as far as whelping dens.

Her belly did a funny thing then, as she marveled at Riley’s focus on their future offspring. It dipped and swooped in a way she’d never quite felt before. Suddenly, she wanted to be closer to him. So she went, pressing her smaller frame against his in a familiar fashion, though Masque whined under her breath when it felt like she couldn’t get close enough.

That made her think of what must come before welcoming the puppies. Masquerade sucked in a breath so deep, it felt like it scooped the air out of the bottom of her lungs. Her skin prickled with heat as her mind wandered down a path that once hadn’t interested her at all. Now, she was keenly interested. It was disarming how badly she suddenly wanted to consummate their relationship.

Riley, she murmured after a moment, her voice a low, sultry rumble, this probably goes without saying but I’ve never been with a man. Masque paused, long tail suddenly resorting to its earlier twitch. Have you…? she wondered about his experience, paying no attention to her comedic phrasing.

Riley, for a lack of a better word, was male — and the male brain dedicated a fair number of brain cells towards well, certain acts. He’d fantasized more than once about this moment — their future moment — but it had been tinged by other memories, too.

As Masque pressed herself to him he gave her the full spread of his physical touch — like her, feeling that despite their contact not all corners were filled.

Her question pulled him into a world he’d tried to forget. He did not pick up on the phrasing right away, though when he did a small smile graced his lips. No. He answered, drawing a long sigh similar to hers as he realized that wasn’t patently true.

Esme.

In that moment he was awestruck by how healthy for one another Masque and he were — how different she made him feel, in ways Esme had only hurt.

At the time, Esme’s rejection and physiological warfare had wounded him deeply. In a twisted sense he now recognized she’d done him a favor all those years ago. I tried, once. Years ago. His gaze fell to the floor as shame burned his cheeks. But it didn’t work out. He preened her fur, realizing talking about this might stir some sense of jealousy in her that he didn’t want to be the reason for. It’ll be both our first time. His voice came in apprehensive breaths. I’m nervous I’ll let you down.

“No,” he said and Masquerade felt strangely relieved, at least until Riley sighed and spoke again.

She pulled away from him, sensing something heavy in his voice that made her want to see his face. He couldn’t hold her gaze for a moment. When Riley reached for her, she eagerly reached back, hating seeing him in any form of discomfort.

After carefully considering his words, she said pragmatically, Maybe I’m just naive but I don’t see how that’s possible. She blinked, the corners of her mouth curling. What if we… practiced? Would that be a strange thing to do?

She felt a little idiotic even as the words left her mouth. Who cared what they did? Who was here to judge them? Masque blushed herself, tucking a laugh against Riley’s throat as she hid her face there.

For one terrifying moment, Riley feared he’d ruined everything by speaking of his past. She’d moved away, and suddenly Riley was terrified of that empty space between them. Yet true to form, Masque was nothing but graceful — kind, even, as she pragmatically informed him that wouldn’t be possible.

In the next breath she suggested they practice. Riley stifled a laugh as she buried her head between his throat and neck. He reached for her then, marveling the hardness of her body, the warmth of her fur against his, the alienness that was feeling another being pressed firm against your skin. Oh, yes. He informed her gravely, struggling to keep a straight face as he brushed the crimson fur along her cheek. I think I will need a lot of practice.

Was Riley teasing her now? She drew back to catch his eye again, lips parting slightly as she let out a scoffing sound. Playfully, she prodded him in the chest, crossing two of her toes together to grasp and tug at some of the dark fur there. Call it a wolfish variation of a titty twister.

Just hours ago, she had been on the verge of telling him she wanted to return to the rise. Now, it was the furthest thing from her mind. All she could think about was the present—the boldly flirtatious way she licked at his mouth, hopefully catching him by surprise—and the future.

Whether or not they eventually claimed Shadewood, it would forever hold a special place in Masquerade’s heart. It was where she bumped her hip suggestively against Riley’s before leading him deeper into the trees. It was where she would stop him in the shade of an oak whose boughs sprawled overhead. It was where they would come together for the first time, their tryst dappled in sunlight.