Moonspear mhysa

wine buuuzzzzzeeeddddd and OBSESSED with the GoT soundtracks so thank them for the title of all upcoming threads :') Backdated heavily! Need to make another thread of formal Revui acknowledgment, but with so much unknown right now having a primarily pregnancy focused LOOoOOL

 

There was no question of it, now. Hydra was with child, and heavy with it. Though she was not round, her belly had dropped; she had reached the day that she knew she had to move deeper into the territory and seek refuge. Hydra was always one to linger in the open throughout the seasons, but she was driven to search for the perfect place to hide away. She was inclined to make her own, and she had ideas of where to begin her search. Her mind was in such a place that all other things were forgotten. She fell into primal rote, and could not be deterred or swayed from her mindset. This needed to be done; this was all the future that mattered, this very moment. 

She sniffed at strong trees and gnarled roots, and empty caves. Nothing satisfied her, not yet. There was no real urgency to her movements, but there was ample drive there. At the very least, her gait was lax, an indicator that violence was far from her mind this hour.

He trailed after her, mind muddy at what the future would hold. It would have taken a blind man to miss the obvious changes in her and a blind man he was not. The turmoil that churned elsewhere presently on the mountain may have been another world away for Hydra, but it lurked in every eave and under ever bough for Dirge. He had kept his distance, merely watching from afar as she had begun her delicate investigations of this and that, and for what he did not immediately realize. Her efforts were uncharted territory for him, and given the tumultuous turn of her whims, his watchful eyes were also a means to keep a rein on her.

But of course, Dirge could not keep an eye on her every waking minute. She was her own being, quite capable of eluding him just in the same ways he did her from time to time. It would have been easy then to slip away unheard and unseen to venture to some distant point on the horizon and leave all none the wiser, but he felt and heard the unspoken pull of a call to stay close. The siren song of the wilderness had blended into the ambient din of the universe; it was static now, pure white noise.

Gently he closed the distance between them, scattering loose stones under his feet to alert her to his presence. His gaze wandered along the low cavern she had just passed up and her actions clicked with reason to him. Den hunting, was it? His gaze shifted to her once again, briefly following the gentle curve of her belly. He wanted to protest it as though it were too soon, but that time was long gone. If she were getting her affairs in order...

”You seem so thrilled,” he chimed in, pulling a cheery disposition. ”How droll this hunt is for someone who enjoys the taste of blood over dirt and rocks.” Sarcasm was perhaps the best defense he had against his own distress and where it lied hidden but far from dormant.

But he persisted.

”What was wrong with that hole in the ground, hm?”

Hydra's ear cupped backward as she heard the approach of another; so engrossed was she in her efforts that she did not recognize the tread she had come to memorize, to anticpate, to adore. Her gaze softened as she beheld him, and her tail waved. Her own disposition warmed considerably, and she tilted her head to his words, bemused. 

Oh, but I am! She truly did thrill aloud, and Hydra was quick to bridge the gap between him and press her nose to his cheek. How could I not be? They are ever growing, in there, the edge of her lip curled upward and she sashayed away, swaying her hips. She looked over her shoulder, flirting, does mother-to-be look good on me, dear? Disregarding entirely his disregard for imperfection in the spot she had found, and distracting him to join her on her jaunt and her mission both.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what it was that he had expected. A flash of teeth, something serious off the tip of her tongue. But this? The shift was like night to day, as it had been depending on whatever the very day's events wrought. He felt his smile spread to something placating before it turned demure, but something in her touch did not spark the same way as it had some time ago. Her bubbly response was nauseating.

For her, however, he would dial up that charm.

”I believe it suits you,” he supplied, at least somewhat genuinely. She was happy—because of him. It should have been a stroking touch along his ego and perhaps someday, he would see it that way. Didn't mean he wouldn't use it to his advantage. ”I'm glad I've made you very happy, though I suspect you're feeling better than days past,” unless of course, she was preparing to snare his flesh soon. That would have been very like her.

Hydra's question was near-rhetorical. Her drive really had to do with one thing: finding a place to rest and bear their cubs. If you think any momen of being pregnant has made me unhappy, you would be wrong, she rejoined with a huff. It was other matters that displeased her, which he well knew, and she gave him a cross look at the mention of it. She had made to chase one of those stressors off, and the other, well... 

Here and now, she did not want to think of it. Hydra sighed. She continued, Before I do hole away for a time, I want to take care of everything, and she did mean everything. I want... a day. Just a day to think only of them, Dirge, they consumed near every thought of hers, but all that was transpiring had taken its toll on her, too, indicated by the slight sag in her shoulders. He knew better than most her thoughts, and she felt irate that he might try to shift a moment meant to be good—

She breathed. Her hormones raged within her, and she recognized her own part in that, too, and so there was no snap of her teeth. Hydra turned to walk it off, though it was clear she was not walking away from him; he could come, if he wished. She had invited him along after all. Her mind shifted back to her task at hand, and her critical gaze monitored her surroundings.

His grasp of words, his charm, it all seemed to fail him the moment the words left him. He saw the flash of emotion that crossed her features, the subtle shift in her body language that suggested he had struck a nerve. It baffled him initially that something was lost in their communique, but it was fair from out of the norm. By now these shifts were hardly stinging to him beyond a moment, and the narrowing of his eyes expressed more than the words he could not find would.

He fell in step behind her, dismissing the notion that perhaps she had seen through his ruse. If even a moment of doubt imbued her, she would have set teeth to him as she had bared for others. There would be no hesitation, not now, not ever.

”I am thinking of them,” came his counterpoint, ”I think of them by looking after you, don't I? The mornings you've spent feeling ill have come and gone, I presumed that was a good thing and nothing more.” Perhaps she had enjoyed groaning and the churn of an ill-tempered meal for what it implied, but she didn't need any more implications about her state.

His gait picked up, and he reached to nudge her hip gently.

”Tell me about them,” he continued. ”What do you know of them already?” Could mothers do such a thing? He had never thought to ask, nor had he the opportunity. The shift of her temperament had cast off the cloak of uncertainty and he sought to rectify it as quick as he could muster, that perhaps he could resume his own selfish worries later.

Dirge ever had a silver-tongue, and was quick to ease her (as of late) fiery temper. Her patience was not what it typically was, throughout her pregnancy. Her raging hormones could not be maintained, but at the very least she could sometimes recognize them (if whoever she was interacting witth was so lucky). Hydra breathed. All of her worries she had fought, and would kill off for good if they returned. 

Her gaze turned to him again, as he nosed her hip. He had been looking after her; his trips away had been less and less, she noted, too, not that she would prevent him from his wandering ways. He never went too far any longer, and he always came home to her and smelled of no other women. With a sigh, she leaned into him. I know only that they are there, she shared, and with a worried look to the horizon, she admitted there is so much I do not know. The things that I thought I did... but she kept herself on course, recalling her very own words and swallowing the rest. It was clear she did not want to speak on that much by the way she wrinkled her own muzzle. Another conversation to be had for another day. 

Today she wanted happiness, and the truth of it was she had many reasons to feel that way. In all of this, she did not doubt her place in the world, or his place with her... simply her own fathers hysteria. It was worrisome, and the more she thought of it, and the more she thoughtt of their children, the more she wanted to be certain it was not near them; she felt they need not worry on that score, though, unless it presented itself again... but a mothers protective instinct seemed to dance within her. 

I think I know where they want to stay, she spoke with a laugh, but I cannot place it. They will not me rest until I find it, she quipped.

Her worries in essence mirrored his own, in some parts known and others unknowingly. The madness that had descended from on high seemed an omen to the venture they were making and yet the very thing was also a blessing in disguise. Dirge did not know yet what to make of it, but there was comfort in knowing that he was not alone in his thoughts. Reassuring, even, that the majority of the pack aligned to his train of thought.

But what would come of it he did not know and did not comment, but rather took the time to comfort Hydra as she drew near. ”Then I guess we'll have to find it together,” he rejoined, offering her a smile. Maybe it wouldn't be as assuring as he wanted it to be, but it was honest. ”We do have the whole day ahead of us to search. The night too, if we so desire.” He nudged her again, this time to usher her along to wherever she decided to go.