Firefly Glen [PHE] kimmiurat ⧤

glancing up from where she had been laying out herbs for each healer. @Ajei spoke of something which had taken place, and after the telling was the duck somber. "i will go to swiftcurrent camp. stay here," she murmured.

the girl was overcome; she did not want to see ajei flee the large gathering. arranging a wrap of summer foxhide around her shoulders, kukutux made a slow route to the place where the creek wolves had made their camp.

she called out in polite tones for @Akavir, though her voice said they must speak.

Pale and cloaked in the golden fur of fox—Akavir at first mistook the vision of the woman calling for him to be of Akashingo—if only because of the adornment upon her. Coming closer, he knew this not to be the case—only the faint hint of Rodyn giving as much inclination to this.

Because of this, he assumed she visited from one of the Moon packs. As he drifted closer, the Mayfair made a quick stop by one of the trees, reaching within the hollow of one and pulling back a rabbit skin. Within, a careful placement of items had been selected and placed aside—in hopes he had enough for the Moon pack as hosts of the event.

“Hello,” he offered, though his words were lightly muffled. He placed the rabbitskin bag to his paws—quills from a porcupine, burdock root, poppy seeds, dried marigolds, and some reed fluffs cautiously within. “I was hoping to bring this and other pouches by to you and Rodyn earlier—but I didn’t want to interrupt any of the planning.” 

A genial mien emanated from the woman—enough to ease his own tensions, for the moment.

he was tall, this cloud over dark water.

but kukutux had only ever spoken kisuk for one man, and she did not change her tones now. "this woman thanks you," she offered instead in formal sunshine, allowing her posture to become soft with a submission she had not taught to those descendants of her own: a trained reaction to the masculine.

yet the old ways were soothing in this moment; to sink down before a respected man, to take his respect in turn.

it would be a good thing to bring back herbs; it was a good offering that boded well.

"i will speak clearly: the one who will marry my son, she has come to me. harsh words were given from some young ones of your camp to her ears. but not only hers; a child of sapphique saw these things also."

she repeated them now, falling silent for some moments.

but her eyes were kind. "aya! they are young. they are filled with fire and wish to show the power of their camp. i do not have anger. but ajei, she is hurting."

now quiet; she raised her jadestone eyes to his own before veiling them politely in a fall of lashes.

This—this was not a social visit, and he could see that the cloaked woman before him was wary as she repeated words that had been spoken—

—and it was the exact kind of words he couldn’t even argue that had likely come out of the mouth of his daughter. He didn’t even have to ask which described youth had spoken them—hadn’t she already just accused him of probably ditching her for some ‘random bitches.’

“There is certainly a time to be filled with fire and express one’s power and pride—but not when it isn’t provoked, nor among a gathering meant to unite,” he vocalized, the disappointment he felt in that moment bitter. It had been a mistake to come—or, perhaps, to let them come—thus far, they had proven to him they could not grasp certain social situations nor be trusted among them.

“I am very sorry for this. I will ensure they both reach out to the other ladies involved and offer an apology.” He paused—his own head bowing lower now, feeling the vivid green eyes of the lady host upon him. “We can take our leave—or I will send them home, after they have offered their regrets.”

for a moment kukutux only studied akavir, not understanding.

but then she shook her head with the determination of the elder which the silver fur proclaimed she had become. "i will not see you leave. or them. if you make a path away from this place, it is your choosing and i will accept it."

he held a father's disappointment; she saw it and understood. "there is much work to be done in a gathering that will be so long a time. our dirt must be cleared from around camp and buried far each day. fallen leaves must be carried off as they fall so that great heaps do not form. there is offal to be cleaned from the belly of animals and pits to be dug for the healers and their teas. hunting is great honor. many wish to be chosen."

do not choose them if they do not earn it, her gaze communed, though kukutux was far too polite to offer words so openly upon what might be a father's decision as well. "i accept too, your offering that an apology be made. ajei is a woman with much kindness. she will hear them."

and she would know if they were truly contrite.

She spoke—the man listened, but he was now without reservations, and perhaps they warred clearly upon his face. Or, perhaps she was highly empathetic and simply knew.

“You must be Kukutux, or, as Rodyn also spoke of you, Moon Woman? It’s a pleasure to meet you—though I wish the circumstances were different. I’m Akavir.”

He did not know if the girls would even agree to an apology—Mae’s strong suit was in facing the wrong’s she had made, and Cygnet was a proud girl who would see repentance as weakness, he was sure. “I will… be candid. Their reactions might have been unwarranted, but they aren’t without reason. Cygnet did not have others her age to grow up with and her childhood was… turbulent, at times. Strength and prowess are coveted to her—companionship does not come easily to her.”

Accepting Arric in her life had never been something she was willing to do—Mae was perhaps the closest friend she had. Protecting her was something that would have come naturally to her. “And Mae was recently attacked near our lands… She was blinded in the attack.” Trust wasn’t something she gave lightly—especially not now.

“I feel anything I say or do with them, whether this situation or another—will feel like a betrayal to them.” He paused, eyes searching her own gemstone green. “I’m open to suggestions.”

The girls would not hunt. They would earn their keep within the camps other ways—cleaning. Perhaps, the work would humble them, and allow them to learn respect when attending the event hosted of another pack so far away from their homes.

"i am kukutux. moonwoman. moonmother. it is also my pleasure."

quietly she listened as akavir detailed the reasons he did not wish to raise a harsh discipline. and when he was finished, kukutux was quiet for a time. "no matter what you choose, they will be angry. they are young," she said again. "they will not understand. but they will learn."

cygnet did not know the way of those her age. mae had lost her seeing. 

"would you treat another child in a different way? if you walk soft around them now, they will expect it. if you hold blame for what has happened, know that there are things we cannot see before they have happened."

two daughters and a granddaughter, gone to sedna. a grandson, gone to sedna. a girl-child, lost — lost.

and she could not have seen it. 

"swiftcurrent creek is important to this gathering. these girls, too, they are important. they must see themselves in this way as well, to have pride in their words and what they speak to the ears of others. sometimes this teaching is not easily learned."

A paw lifted to rub at the scruff at his cheek, brows knitted together as he listened to her words—eyes glossing over to the foliage that surrounded them. Autumn was revealing it’s more vibrant beauty now—hints of red and orange beginning to color the leaves and plants.

The pale woman before him left much for him to ruminate on—not the importance of Swiftcurrent Creek to the wolves who attended, but, in the very least, the role in which they intended to maintain upon their valley home.

“You are a wordsmith, I see,” he offered, finally breaking his silence on the matter before stealing a glance up. “I will talk with them and inform them they will apologize—and if they cannot do so without any amount of remorse, they can leave for home.”

He paused—in truth, he expected them to rage—to see this moment not one of teaching or discipline but of him putting them aside. “Who do I send them see about the tasks you’ve mentioned before? They can earn their place back within the hunt, with your acceptance.”

a grin followed that, a laugh to come. "i am not smooth with words," she said. "but i have raised ten-and-five children. and i have helped to rear more than this number. each one has their own spirit." 

she did not think they should be sent away to stew elsewhere, but this was only her thinking as a mother. in this was the respect of silence; akavir had made his choice and she offered her deference to it.

"send them to moonglow camp." her greenstone eyes shone. "i will tell them what is to be done and where they must walk." 

perhaps she could share their rage with the creek wolf before her. he did not need to bear it all. "do not forget to seek your own peace while you are here." he was leader. he was father. but he was also a man. men must have their freedom in such times; they grew tense and dire without a breath.

There was much to be said about the shenanigans of teenage girls—the angst that shrouded his would have followed any adult, though—the abandonment they felt, their need to find security and footing in the world they lived in.

One day, he hoped they would stop seeing him as an enemy and realize that if he could, he would move mountains for them. One day, perhaps, they would realize that the time away when he guarded their valley and home was not to remain from them—but an attempt to secure their lives.

These thoughts did little to settle him, and so when the ivory woman made mention of finding his own peace, he felt the irony of the statement with a pang—though trying to hide such notion behind a forced smile. “I believe the saying there is no rest for the wicked, lady Kukutux.”

Usually, when he considered peace and finding it, it meant only more chaos would seek his and his loved ones out.

"are you wicked, akavir?" moonwoman asked with a graceful curve to her lips. her knowing eyes saw his tiredness and unsurety; had she not felt those many things so often in her time as anaa and now grandmother?

often children did not see what they must until they had more age. mae was angry now, cygnet as well. they had been goaded and rose to it.

but they would learn.

quietly she fell into step beside him. "come. we will see the many fireflies before our paths march apart." seeing such beauty might well soothe them both.

‘Are you wicked, Akavir?’

The question hung in the silent autumn air for another moment past—her eyes casting upon him, and he returned her glance. “We all play the villain in someone’s story, Kukutux,” he decided then, firm in this answer and belief.

Surely, he had been the villain to many over the years—some more obvious than others. The man he had thrown in the creek when he had tried to overthrow he and his Beta? Yep—he had earned that title with flourish.

It was the ones he tried to covet and protect that still called him the wicked one that stung—Mae, Cygnet, Jakub… Wren.

“Even when you don’t want to.”

She invited him to watch fireflies—a silly notion to the scarred black wolf—and one he met with an acquiescent nod of his muzzle, trialing after her lead… Where he would, indeed, take in the sight of the fireflies in which the glen had become humbled after.