Emberwood don't you worry you little flame

It took a few hours for exhaustion to return his priorities to their regular state — albeit with sleep being slightly higher up the list than usual — but when it did, the coywolf could only think about how the kids' usual babysitter was currently an unknown level of Not Okay. He pulled @Reverie from bed, though he needn't have as soon as he mentioned said children, and the two went off in search of her younger brood.

Dusty Rose gave a squeak-like call as they came to the clearing where they often played, hoping to see @Petal and @Dahlia tumble out of the woodwork. To his relief, Reverie's coyote-looking daughter, @Blossom, was minding them.

Two of them, at least.

"Where's the goofy one?" he asked, an uneasy feeling rising in his chest.

Tags for reference or for joining; this is for Reverie but everyone is welcome to come party with us. Please let me know if there is anything at all I should change!

Powerplaying those tagged, but yall are free to hop in or correct me on anything

It was awhile before Reverie remembered that anything else existed in the world. For a time she knew nothing but Dusty Rose — and she was content with that. At least, until he reminded her of her daughters. Her children who were still too young to be left alone.

She took the lead in their search, pressing forward to sweep the two daughters she saw first into her arms. But one was missing — and Blossom, she quickly realized, was frantic. The story spilled from her oldest daughter tearfully. Foxglove had slipped away, as she so often did.

Reverie hardly heard anything after that. She sucked in a sharp breath, rising at once as if she meant to depart for the search then and there. But then she looked to the worried faces of her remaining daughters. Then her eyes found Dusty Rose, filled with a question: what do we do?

It didn't occur to her just then that she was the one meant to provide an answer.

He tried not to think of the worst, really — what good would that do? But Everett, recently acting very strangely, had disappeared along with one of the squeakers. Was she with him? Would he hurt her?

He stopped asking himself these questions. Wondering wouldn't change the outcome.

"Well," he said, forcing himself back into calm — "Well, I'll go look for her," he said, looking between Reverie and Blossom. He pointedly did not look at the two little girls. He pointedly did not think about how he'd trade both of them to get Foxglove back, and that was why you didn't name your kids until they were too big to be eaten. Because a parent ought to be looking out for the majority. Sacrifice the few to save the many, not the other way around. He felt an upwelling of resentment in his throat, but he knew it was premature grief and not real anger.

"I've got a nose, anyway," he said, meaning that he was as good a tracker as one could hope. "So I'll go find her. Alright?"

I'll go find her.

Reverie pulled him into a tight embrace for a moment, kissing him fiercely to express all that she couldn't say. Her muzzle lingered near his ear briefly as she murmured, When you get back - I'm going to make you my Dancing King, A leader beside her; it only seemed right.

With that promise and one last soft brush of her muzzle against the velvety side of his ear, she withdrew to comfort her daughters. Particularly Dahlia, who was nothing less than distraught over being ignored by Dusty Rose in favor of her sister. Reverie wasn't sure how to explain that now was not the time to hold ill will toward her sister. But she would try. There was nothing else she could do while she waited, trying to stifle the bile rising in her throat with each passing moment that Foxglove was gone.

The coywolf was happy to be kissed, but just a little uncomfortable with what felt like praise before he'd actually gone and done the thing. Now he had to find her, and — like, okay, there hadn't been another option, anyway. But it was a lot of pressure when he was nervous enough already.

And — dancing king? — that had to be a euphemism, right? He slid a startled glance toward the kids, hoping they didn't pick up on it. Hoping the spin of his tail wasn't incongruous. His gaze slid back to Reverie, half-lidded; coquettish.

"Okay," he said, smitten. He stole one last kiss before he spun away and departed, nose already to the ground.