Blackfeather Woods there is something rotten in the state of Denmark
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#1
Joining 
it is perhaps unfair that the realization strikes her now, when previously she was so close to living her own life, choices made without influence from her past. but the choices she makes now are not her own - they are what will benefit most greatly all of them, for she is coming to the slow realization that she most safeguard those she carries. she has not paused long to analyze the situation, for then surely she'd feel hate and fear and all those ugly things. and so for now, she does what is easiest - she moves steadily toward the blot on the horizon, made steady by her sole purpose here now.

it is evening when she pauses at the borders so foreign and yet so familiar, revolting and yet one of few chances for safety. Maegi was here, and so would be others of her caliber - there was little reason to postpone. she called for an audience, noticing not the shadow that settled near. 
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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Ooc — Talamasca
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#2
The world has become surreal. The passage of time is meaningless; there is light, there is dark, there is the shifting of the trees and weariness, all-consuming. Titmouse roams the woods, but he has forgotten his nightmare of a waking-dream that was his hallucination; he has forgotten the slaughtered crows, the warning of Abraxas — even the pounding of his head has abated. Perhaps he has grown used to it.

When he slinks through a gap in the trees (they are like a vibrating scribble of ink, frenetic, endless spasms) he sees the girl shape herself out of the darkness; he does not recognize her, unfortunately. The boy - now a man, pitiful though he had become - could smell Abraxas lurking near and he mistook the shape of the woman and her constellations as the agitated shadow - thus he pulled away, unsure whether to approach.
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the wolf that she does notice is pale, thin, and she takes him to be put ill at ease by her presence here. he's not Maegi, but she chuffs a low greeting all the same, holding him in her gaze and hoping this will stop him from sliding back between the trees, as he seems liable to do at any moment. she doubts the man is any sort of leader, but she offers her intent all the same. "I want to join Blackfeather." she shifts, uncomfortable with the swelling of her sides, and waits. 
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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Why? came the quiet, calm voice from the shadows as Ramsay emerged, raising his short ears with interest. He spared Titmouse a cursory glance, noting that something seemed off about the then-Decima. He would need to ask about it later. Here was no place to show any sort of discord between the pack leaders, even though the knowledge that Mou had slaughted a number of crows and upset their resident ghoul still weighed heavily on Ramsay's mind. The subtlest narrowing of his eyes was the only indication that he seemed uneasy; he turned back to Cassiopeia with a thin, but warm smile.

When last we spoke, you claimed this could never be your home. He withheld any hint of accusation from his tone. Ramsay wasn't trying to call her out, but he recalled her reluctance to return here and thought it suspicious that she was doing exactly that now. His eyes shifted to the swell of her sides, but if he recognized what that meant, he gave no indication. The truth was, he didn't. What has changed? And will whatever it is follow you here to wreak havoc on us?
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it was an obvious and expected question, and her gaze slid instead to Ramsay who made himself known smoothly. he offered then her own words, though there was no edge behind them, and her answer was easy. "it is not my life to live alone, anymore. Blackfeather would offer security to my unborn I could not find elsewhere - I was quick to associate this place too heavily with those who ruled it, once." unspoken, but it was not only her to have changed. that was evident alone by the borders that were more or less the same as all the other packs in Teekon, her presence here accepted instead of faced with fangs and threats. 

"none would follow me here. and I am capable of providing for any burden I may bring with me. still, if you will not have me - us,  I would understand." it is up to him to weigh the pros and cons, and while her outlook is bleak if the latter happen to outweigh the former, she will accept his verdict well enough.
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.

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With the arrival of Ramsay to handle the drifting shadow, the sleepless ghost drew away in earnest, heading for the web at an odd pace; his path was not linear as he dragged himself along, but he faded from view eventually.
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Ah. That answered it. Ramsay respected Cassiopeia well enough and he knew that Maegi loved her like a mother, but he would be lying if he said her revelation didn't sit funny with him. Blackfeather Woods had only one mother so far, with him not realizing his tryst with Parvati could possibly bear fruit, and could certainly spare the resources. But there was a part of him that needed more information than that.

The father? he wondered, and if he had notions of his own on who it might be, he didn't show it. There were easily hundreds of wolves in these parts and any one of them could have stuck Cass with the pointy end and impregnated her, so he had no guesses. It wasn't his business either, and he wouldn't pry if she refused to say, so he added, what assurance do we have that he would not come seeking to take his children away? We do not want trouble.

More importantly, what assurance do we have that you will not change your mind once they are old enough? He hated to be harsh about it, but he recognized now the feeling that niggled at him. Blackfeather hadn't been good enough for Cassiopeia until she needed protection, and it made Ramsay feel a little bit used. He needed to be sure it wasn't just selfish convenience that brought her here.
THREADS: 5/5
Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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she allows his question to stagnate a moment until he elaborates, and chooses her answer with care. she is quick to come to the conclusion that she'd much rather leave Vaati out of this - their relationship is one held at arms length, but she knows he will respect her wishes now. "he will bring you no trouble. of that I am sure." a bit of an exaggeration, perhaps - she wasn't entirely certain with much regarding the titan, but was confident enough in his ability to stay away. 

he was persistent with his assurances, and so she answered candidly. "I will be in your debt. your trust will not be misplaced." she is firm in this regard. debts and vows are taken lightly only by the foolish and cowardly, and she will not be labeled such. 
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#9
Ramsay scrutinized Cassiopeia carefully as she responded. She didn't reveal the father's identity, but asserted that he would not bother them. That was perhaps all he needed to know; the rest was a formality, for although Ramsay felt used, he'd meant it when he said she always had a place in Blackfeather Woods. The way she'd turned up here was not promising, but he was a man of his word when he gave it, and he chose to take her at hers.

Come, then, said Ramsay, turning quickly and heading back into the forest. We can set you up in the glen or I can help you find a place to den that suits you, whichever you prefer. More blood for Blackfeather Woods was never a bad thing, and only time would tell if her assurances rang true or hollow.
THREADS: 5/5
Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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#10
her answers proved satisfactory, though it would be time that would prove their validity. she dipped her muzzle, gaze still on the dwarf. "thank you." she stepped over the border, and familiarity mixed then with discontent. still, she was sincere in her gratitude, and followed resolutely after Ramsay.

it took a moment of consideration to settle on "the glen." she'd like nothing more than to isolate herself as she had is Rusalka, but could not do so when she lay heavily in their debt. the wood swallowed the both of them easily, and moments later the border lay quiet once more. 
That is not dead which can eternal lie. 
And with strange aeons even death may die.