Ravensblood Forest till i’m blind & hiding in the lion’s mouth
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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She was done arguing, and she was done fighting, and she was done being so ignorantly irresponsible.

She was exhausted of it. She was through playing blame games, and she was through being looked upon with uncertainty and mistrust and disappointment. So she marched out to find her brood first — either child, even — whether they wished to see her or not, tail-tip flickering at her hocks.

The same went for Vercingetorix; but she would find him later, if his wounds hadn’t festered and taken him already.

Aure would rein in her abstract concepts as best as she could for the sake of this, because her children  (or, one of them, at least)  needed to understand where exactly she was coming from. She didn’t know any other way to do this — but they couldn’t live like this, pissed with another forever with next to no place for love and warmth and trust to enter again. 

”I have been slow to realize my mistakes,” the herbalist began, ”they were mandatory, but selfish. I will not lie about this. With Diaspora, I would have continued on there if it meant that ze two of you would’ve flourish there — however, ze matter of your father’s whereabouts held a more pressing value, even more-so when ze Diasporans made it clear that if we do not follow their creed, then we must leave. When Stigmata announced he was leaving, and when Mahler himself was so distant. Either we would live within a dying pack, or we could find your father, and perhaps hope that he’d secure some place up here.”

”I was wrong about doing both... or, doing them too early. Perhaps I should not have done them at all.” Aure situated herself before either adolescent, “And ze reason I also left you with some... weirdo, as you say, is because I had to protect you — protect you from someone who has harmed me as a pup, and who would have taken great delight in harming you. I do not like to fight. I do not like to hurt. I do not like to separate myself from my children in ze paws of someone they don’t truly know. I had to fend him off, before he could reach you... I had to have help to have done it.”

All this was said with a bit of monotone from her foreign lips; a bit of dead light in her argent eyes; but she would rather continue to have their disappointment than to have their pity.

”Apologies will never be enough, but... I am sorry that I am not more aware of my own... inconsistencies. I should have bettered myself before you came into this world — I will do so now. You... may hold me in contempt for as long as it pleases you,” a thin smile, feeling that entirely and without any sense of self-pity, “but I am your mother. Even when I make such mistakes, I will always be there for you.”

With that and a soft, “I hope I earn your forgiveness, and trust, and respect someday once more,” the silver bowed her head, the weight of all she’d said on spent, rigid shoulders. It didn’t matter if it took several seasons to make this up to them... to Verx... but it might as well become her new life’s mission.

can be dated for another day + slower thread. @Dragomir or @Isilmë
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Aurëwen drew Dragomir aside from the clearing he was exploring and he went to her, albeit more grimly than ever he had before. His jaw was set as he approached and he left a marked distance between them, settling on his haunches with stiff austerity. He was not one to hold grudges and would forget all this in due time, or if his parents offered the right words of consolation.

What she had to say was more of the same: excuses for dragging them from their beds in Diaspora and excuses for leaving them with a stranger. Dragomir saw through these things, or thought he did; in reality he didn't understand them at all. Diaspora's creed had never made itself known to him, so to be told it was the reason for their leaving meant little to the boy. He had flourished there in his mind. They both had. They had left to find Vercingetorix... but Vercingetorix had left them and not returned. But he was just a boy who felt torn away from home and pack without a chance to even say farewell, so the logic of it failed to reach through his grief even now.

Everything she had to say about leaving them with a stranger, she surely thought would make it better. It helped but only a little. You should have protected us, he said sternly; in that moment he very well could have been a miniature of his father, standing with his shoulders squared, his brow drawn over his eyes, and his voice clipped with impatience. Father should have protected us. We didn't even know that guy and you just left us there. You didn' even say anything. We coulda gone somewhere he wasn't. Or we coulda helped you. That last was perhaps wishful thinking, but nevertheless, the least she could have done was tell them this before simply abandoning them.

Did she not realize the effect these repeated disappearances had on them? Who now could he trust if he could not trust Vercingetorix to return? Who now could he trust if he could not trust her to stay?

She asked for forgiveness, not now but eventually, and Dragomir sighed. He was angry now but it wouldn't last forever. It likely wouldn't last beyond the end of the week. Trust was another matter. Don't do it again, said Dragomir, his frown deepending. No more getting hurt and no more leaving us behind. No more makin' choices for us without us. The worry after her well-being was bad enough when it seemed to be her norm to leave and come back injured. The rest, he could not take much more of. Promise, he firmly demanded.
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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No: like her mistakes, she has also been slow to realize the toll this had taken on her children. It wasn’t that Aurëwen was callous and uncaring; it was simply that she tended to get unfathomably tangled up in a primary ambition — challenge Stigmata; find father; fight the Dread — that the woes of those around her went awry in the back of her mind. No, she hadn’t thought to sequester them somewhere safe, first, and it showed in the furrowing of her marred brow and further bow of her head. She never thought much, anymore.

And then her son continued, mistrust in the name of trust deepening, speaking of not doing it again and don’t make choices for us without us. ...They were family, weren’t they? And families made choices together; something she’d put aside a moon ago, when she’d stood against Stigmata and his ideals for her children.

And then: ‘Promise.’ What else could she say to that other than a low, oathful Wedtā and a quiet little nod? Aurëwen kept her eyes lowered, away from his so dragă-like testiness. She was a mother... but she didn’t want to be a thoughtless, insipid one.

After an uncertain lull — where her eyes hesitantly flickered to that burning hazel — she shifted in her seat, absently kneading her claws. “Is there anything else you would to discuss with me, Dragomir? Anything you want? ...Or anything I may do?” Wintry ears bedded back into her alabaster ruff, waiting, wondering, and careful to not show her ridiculous hope for now.
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Dragomir's eyes were fierce on Aurë until she promised, and then they softened a margin. There were a lot of things he could have asked or said then. He wanted to know who Sanguinus was and why Aurë thought leaving them in his care was a good idea; the man hadn't shown his face since, which told Dragomir he wasn't trustworthy to begin with. He wanted to ask after the wolf who harmed her and whether she had won. He wanted to ask what Diaspora's creed was and why it was so very bad that they had had to leave.

In the end, however, he wasn't in the mood for any of it. He would forgive her, how could he not? But he needed time and space right now from both his parents. Both of them had disappointed him so horribly that it was impossible for it not to dampen his mood. Once, Dragomir had thought they were perfect. They could do no wrong in his eyes, but being disillusioned was a very heavy thing.

No, answered Dragomir, pressing one paw firmly against the soil to steady himself as he met her gaze, not a challenge but a hope for understanding, and asked, can I go now?
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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She only balked from her own guilt, but at his request, she perked to attention, and then eased some at the words, even towards something simple as him wishing to leave or stay. Da, balaur,” Aure acquiesced, giving a quiet cant of her ivory crown. After some lulls, she began to turn from him— but paused, as if reconsidering and thinking better of it:

“I... I am going to go forage a little northward in this forest; your nontu’s wounds need seeing to.” Her words were awkward at best, but her tone was trying; inclusive. “If you’d like to follow some trails with me, you’re welcome to. And, well, if not, then...” an even more awkward little scuff of a paw, “Well, you will know where to find me. Just use that marvelous nose of yours.”

Having this sort of discussion with Verx would be... well... she had no idea how it’d go. But the herbalist knew that if left unseen to, his mood would only surl as his duel-hurts did, and being the herbalist she was, that would always be her first priority. Whether Drago declined her once more was entirely up to him — and she gazed to him with rabbit-soft argent eyes, dashed with melancholy, but unassuming as ever.
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And that was that. She seemed to understand and Dragomir felt better knowing she wouldn't insist on accompanying him. He paused when she offered to let him accompany her and sighed under his breath. The poor woman no doubt just wanted the company of her family, but he just wasn't in the mood. Perhaps she could take Isilmë, but Dragomir was willing to bet she was just as upset with their parents as he was. He shook his head firmly.

I need time alone righ' now, he clarified before setting off into the forest. He would meet up with them again later, or they would surely find him if it was urgent. Without the panic of being left behind to dull his sensibilities, he would definitely remember to track them, so wandering off from them wasn't such a concern. At least it was on his terms.
wearing my dream like a diadem in some better land.
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last from me!

It’d only been an offer, so her ears pressed away further as he simply stated what he’d alluded to moments ago — I’ve said too much. Her tail-tip flickered and curled, a bit of a bitter taste in her mouth as she watched him leave... but Aure turned from the bleeding glade and instead threaded herself away, not quite finding as much comfort in the forage as she usually would. Again.