King Elk Forest the sweet relief of knowing nothing comes for free

although jomyo'd given him a reasonable amount of time to wait, he finds himself fretting anyway. in the days following burke's death delight had taken to sharing a den with @Mato, wanting to offer the fallen prince some comfort, but after a couple of weeks he stops. suddenly it feels... suffocating, the weight of his anxiety, and he doesn't want that weight to fall across mato's shoulders even incidentally.

delight knows he's made his decision already, even though jomyo hasn't returned with information. the morwinyon won't make his move until she can confirm his suspicions (or rebuff them, though he doubts that'll be the case). in a way, it's peaceful: burke's death is behind them and the pack is still stable, not as fragile as he'd once believed it to be. his fears of dispersal have so far gone unfounded. he feels .. bonds of loyalty from his wolves in a way he never thought he could - the knight's promotion from substitute to genuine leader. it's weird ... but he doesn't hate it after all.

all that's left is time.

the thing had been around her neck long enough that mona had become accustomed to it. the foreign object, however, remained an annoyance in her day to day life, from sleeping to eating. indeed, the urge to roam had gone out of the girl almost completely; she skulked around the packland, a rather forlorn little red ghost.
despite her feelings of other, mona welcomed the chance to make conversation with those she knew in tindome — which, she realized balefully, weren't many. just delight — and nathaniel.
ignoring the shiver that climbed her spine, the girl caught the trail of the boy-leader's scent and followed it until she caught sight of his slight frame and pretty fur. "hey, delight," mona murmured, approaching him deferentially, nerves causing a swallow that caught uncomfortably under her new 'decoration.'

mona's greeting snaps him out of his head back to reality. he may not be as prone to fits of sulking but he does still carry that tendency to slip into his thoughts, unaware of his surroundings. maybe not the best quality for a leader to have, but whatever, he's squishy and introspective. 

delight hasn't seen much of the little red girl, prone as she seems to be to her little scouting trips -- it hardly bothers him, she still shows up when he calls and scouts are handy things -- and so he is not expecting to see her new adornment. "hey, m-" the androgyne starts before his eyes land on the collar and, startled, her name dies in his mouth. 

"mona." he finishes, forcing his eyes off the foreign thing and back onto her face, scanning a bit anxiously. she looks as uncomfortable as he feels looking at that thing. "what is that..?" delight asks, trying for even-tempered lest he make her feel worse about it -- but really, what the hell is that thing?

the warmth in the few seconds that followed delight's recognition of her soothed mona; if her leader saw nothing the matter —
but it was removed from her as swiftly as it had arrived, this halfway hopefulness — the nuro's eyes darkened and her ears swept back against her head in shame. having traced every inch of it visible while watching her reflection in some frozen pool, the mayfair girl knew what it looked. her lips were atremble but her voice steady when she answered delight.
"i ... i saw a bird. it was round, and silver. it was so large —! i had never seen anything like it before. and then i felt a sharp ... something like a bite, and i don't remember anything else." her tone had taken on an expression of pleading; she sought the sylph's eyes with a plaintive swallow before focusing on the snow between her small red forepaws. "and then i had this thing on me, and i've ... i've tried everything. it won't come off." mona finished on a sob.

he listens to her description, not sure what to make of it: some creature he's never heard of, a silver bird? it's difficult to believe but mona wears the evidence on her neck that something happened -- as strange and unknown as the collar is, he's willing to believe pretty much anything happened, no matter how far fetched. the poor girl looks so distraught (why is it every time he speaks to her he catches her in the middle of a crisis? he's not equipped for it) delight makes a sympathetic whining sound. 

"there's gotta be a way," he says soothingly, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. cautiously he takes a few steps closer, giving her room to stop him if she doesn't want to be crowded, but wanting to see if he can examine it a little better. "does it hurt?" delight asks, eyes flicking briefly to her face in worry -- if it hurts they'll have to work more quickly than if it's just painless but unwelcome.

LOL <3

mona drew in a large breath as delight approached, knowing he would not harm her and yet still shaken by the entire affair. however, the language of her body told the sylph her trust was given; the mayfair lifted her chin slightly so that the full breadth of the collar might be revealed. 
to his question, mona gave a small shake of her head. "no. it's uncomfortable but that's it." the nuro wasn't sure if there was a way to remove it, but she was open to all suggestions. trying to hide the spark of hope that dawned in her murkwater gaze, she was quiet, unsure of what else to say given the context of their meeting.

up close he is no better able to discern the collar's secrets. the material is thick and inorganic, nothing he's ever seen before, and while he's reassured by her saying it doesn't hurt, he agrees it has to go asap. gingerly he extends his nose to touch it -- and pulls away, surprised by the texture. "maybe we could bite through it?" delight suggests, hesitant to invade mona's space and put his teeth so close to her throat, even in the pursuit of ridding her of this mysterious menance. but if she gives permission, hell, he'll give it a try.

he touched her gently and mona felt a little more of her tension ebb away — soothed by delight's nearness, she held herself a little higher and nodded. whatever he decided was best, mona was glad to do — she hadn't come near to removing the damn thing, despite her best efforts. the nuro didn't speak, too anxious to form words, but her trust was clear as she lifted her chin again.

she doesn't speak so neither does he even as he bears down on her cautiously, careful to keep his teeth as turned away from her throat as possible. thankful that she's small like him so it isn't too hard to reach, he tries to gather the collar into his mouth, his jaw hooked around it near her nape. it feels tight against her and he mumbles a muffled "sorry" lest he accidentally choke her. the taste is still foreign, wholly unpleasant, the material tough and strange, but he gives it a sharp tug, trying to tear it from her neck.

delight settled to his task; mona held her breath as he began to tug. digging her paws into the snow, the nuro braced herself while her leader's teeth worked on the collar from behind. it did not give; delight's pulling only made the sharp leather edge nudge deeper against the girl's throat, until her body sent up a panic signal and the girl gave a low whine, ears falling back with a signal for the leader to stop. it was not working.

you get my 300th post! <3

despite his best effort the collar remains firmly in place, not tearing a inch. at mona's whine delight immediately releases it, whining his own soft apology as he withdraws. "it's tough," he says, making a face at the lingering taste in his mouth, "i don't think i can chew through it." not without putting her at risk of suffocating or hurting her in the process -- given that the collar isn't causing her immediate harm delight doesn't think it's worth it to run the risk. he offers an apologetic grimace, his ears laying flat against his head. "i'm sorry."

omg congrats! <3

the leader was apologetic; the decision that the collar would not be easily budged was a mutual one. mona sighed, shrugging her slight shoulders and blinking down at the ground between her forepaws. "thank you for trying, delight," she murmured, before resolving to glean some bit of enjoyment from the day.
"i know a little about mato, and about how tindome came to be, but ... who is he to you?" the firebird paused — there was a chance that for delight, this was a sore subject. but mona was desperate for a distraction, and hoped fervently her inquiry would not be dashed.

mona does not seem angry with him for his failure to remove the wretched thing, but he feels guilt anyway, watching her shrug small at the ground. whatever it is, it's a burden she shouldn't have to bear. he does not have time to linger on his own feelings of inadequency for long -- she abruptly switches the topic on him. startled, the morwinyon raises a paw as if to step back, only to place it back down, scuffing the snowy dirt awkwardly. who is mato to him? there'd been a moment, hadn't there, where delight had seen a vision of a future that seemed to have borne no fruit. "my previous home was destroyed in an avalanche," delight explains, "mato was the first i met after that, and he immediately took me in." he swallows, feeling the words heavy in his mouth. "he was. is. my morwinyon," the androgyne manages, feeling heat flood his cheeks, fearing he's already revealed too much even in that chaste description. his feelings are not exactly a secret to any, but he does not like to advertise them nonetheless -- especially not when there's no chance of reciprocation (or rather, any chance he had at that having been dashed out with the light in mato's eyes).

the weight mona sensed behind delight's brief explanation pulled the girl from her selfish contemplations of the horrid thing around her neck; she watched her morwinyon with no small measure of affectionate encouragement in the dusky green of her gaze. "you lost your home; he took you in. what ... happened? if you want to say, of course," mona added quickly, attempting to reassure the sylph that she did not intend to pressure him into sharing the details.
perhaps if he did — perhaps mona would tell him of her own tribulations along the path of love; the very idea sundered her with embarassment, but delight had been nothing but kind to her. she wished to repay him now, with the mutuality of their sharing.

ooc: phone post will format l8er :3

--

for all that delight will whinge and worm at talking of his feelings, he relishes the opportunity, taking secret pleasure in the interest of his wolves in his affairs. being morwinyon is maybe a little too good for his ego.

still: "ah," he begins, immediately fumbling. how does he explain it? "i don't know -- his ex-mate brienne, him, and i -- we were playing out a sort of classical romantic tragedy. brienne disappeared, mato... he's got a way of - of closing himself off, turning his feelings off. when she returned to us he ... did not restart their courtship. we -- we had a moment, but -- something changed with him. i think the weight of brienne's disappearance and burke's declining health on top of the pack was too much for him. he's still very young -- younger than me." delight looks at his paws then, a little embarrassed, a little relieved, and adds, "so.. nothing happened, but not-nothing happened as well. does that make sense?"

mona was swept away quickly by such mention of a love triangle. brienne, mato, delight; beautiful names for lovely wolves broken on the shores of romance. quite honestly, the young mayfair would earnestly have become a writer of bodice-rippers and melancholy love at sea, had she not had her hopelessly loving heart encased in a wolf's body. 
"what happened to brienne?" mona pressed, her red ears cupping forward in an interest that was writ clearly into the slim lines of her body. to delight's question, she gave a belated nod. she did indeed understand, and now thirsted for more details. and, perhaps if delight was so inclined, he would grant them to her.

slowly his unease melts away, buffed by mona's attentive reactions and his own flair for the dramatic. it's not a story about his life, it's just a story, a beautiful dramatic love triangle, and it's etched into tindómë's bones too. when the androgyne lifts his moonbeam eyes again, his expression is open, brows raised. "she was looking for her brother," he explains, "beyond our borders -- and she was captured. i've never pressed her for details, but i can only imagine." delight takes a breath, pausing, letting the imagined horrors brienne suffered flicker briefly across the space between them.

he glances to the borders, as if he himself bore witness to her return. "we did not know where she went -- we should have searched for her, but our numbers were slim and i deferred to mato's feelings, and we -- we grew closer. there was a moment where i thought..." his voice dips. he swallows. "but i was wrong. and brienne's return brought guilt -- i don't believe mato rejected her feelings for me, but i had a hand in it. while she was suffering i was climbing hierarchy. i certainly don't blame her for deciding to leave on her own terms again, though i hope we can find a way to reconnect some day."

and mato, well: he remains delight's enigma.

mona was not sure she had understood the finer points of what had transpired in delight's love life, but the gist she conceived. her ears folded back against her small skull at the powerful retelling of the story delight sought to give her. brienne — now mona too wished to know what had happened, and where she had truly gone. and mato; mona fancied herself no stranger to love, and thus experienced enough to suspect that delight loved this wolf a great deal. indeed, had loved both of them fiercely and the fire remained, at least in part
"your heart is so great, delight," mona purled wistfully, her girlish soul quite stricken by the idea that her beloved leader was all along in the world. or was he? the mayfair blinked. "and mato ... ?" he was here, in tindome, was he not? a shadow, some shade well-regarded by delight. what had come to pass between them since? from the sound of it, the young sylph had not settled into some rich romance with the boy.

mona's words earn a full body blush, hidden under deep-tinted fur. how is he to take that? delight's prone to a certain air of ... not arrogance, but self possession. underneath that, though, he is fully and utterly convinced of his own incompetancies. he is not a good person. he is selfish and un-empathetic and prone to fits to ennui and insecurity. how is his heart great?

"he's..." the androgyne doesn't even know how to answer that question. mato lingers like a ghost. "i don't know. we haven't spoken much recently -- he's in mourning of a sorts." it's a kind way to describe it, but delight doesn't have it in him to give up on the prince just yet, not so long as he's physically present. they had a whisper of a moment and he'll hold onto it as long as he can, he thinks.

delight did not comment on mona's whisper, and it was just as well; she could not explain her conception of delight as a great-hearted wolf, simply that his very nature, his aloof growth, the warmth of his eyes — all these had engendered in the girl a deep conviction regarding delight's purity. and mona was not a girl easily swayed.
her leader's answer regarding mato was enigmatic. mona watched with some small ache the way delight gave nothing, and yet everything. on an impulse, mona reached to kiss the rich sable fur of his cheek with a brief press of her lips, wishinng to buoy him in some way, even if she did not truly understand. "love is difficult."

so sorry for the wait!

mona's press of affection feels like a wax seal on an official document, some signed declaration of -- what, delight can't quite tell. he does not flinch away from the touch as he might have some time ago, though neither does he exactly react, but for the slight tensing of his muscles, nerves taut. "it is," he says quietly, allowing the small admission before his expression pulls back into something closed. not shut off, but his vulnerability shuttered away once again. he clears his throat. "um, so, that's the whole story," delight tells her, and seizing on a need to talk about anything else, says, "why? i mean, besides the obvious," his eyes flicking back to the collar, nearly forgotten, "why ask after mato and i specifically?"

no worries! sorry for mine!

beneath her touch, she felt the subtle gathering of muscles, and drew back to regard the closing expression on delight's gentle features. for a long moment, mona allowed the silence to pass — delight ended its slipping with a question to which the mayfair did not truly have an answer.
"i ... because i didn't like the idea of you being alone," she rejoined in a small voice, murkwater eyes finding delight's own gaze for an iota of time before she turned them toward her small scarlet forepaws and their cardinal brightness against the snow. "i don't want anyone to be alone." and now the quiet stretched between them ribbonlike, tautening as mona wondered if she had overstepped in any way.

wrap up?<3

the answer he gets is sweetly sincere in a way that makes him ache, suddenly overwhelmed by fondness for the tiny girl. he has been fortunate to find friendship the way he has since arriving in the teekons, but it never fails to startle him in it's intimacies. compelled, suddenly, the androgyne moves to briefly embrace her should she let him, a quick affection. "thank you," delight says, looking away embarrassedly as he pulls back, flushed. "i don't think i'm really alone," he continues, still looking away, "-- i have all of you."

the fatigue of extended vulnerability sets in as he finally brings himself to look back at mona. "thank you," he says, fumbling a little, "i'm sorry about, um, you know," the collar, "but thank you." with nothing else to add he lapses into silence, finding a moment to quietly withdraw unless she needs him for anything else.

fading here <3

delight was pleased, mona noted with a momentary bloom of the same in her spirit. for a moment, a shy smile brightened her countenance before mona settled into the same wan expression. she wished to say more, but delight was departing her, and what warmth their meet had suffused her with now trailed in his wake.
swallowing against the hard edge of the leather collar, the little mayfair moved in the opposite direction, desiring fiercely to both be alone and be in nathaniel's steadying company.