Whitefish River i am not throwin' away my shot

It had been a couple of days since Aure had left. She'd gone to Moon. . .something. MoonSword? Whatever. She was gone, and he was confused as fuck, given that one of their children still had two broken legs and hella PTSD. Whatever she needed to do couldn't be done here? She was just gonna up and leave again?

Not that he hadn't done the same before, but hey. He was on a several-month no leaving his kids streak, and he didn't intend to break it anytime soon.

But Verx was a little frustrated on the whole. It'd been ages since he'd gotten his dick wet. A long time since he'd had fun at all. He poured himself into work around Kaistleoki, but that only served to exhaust his body. His mind still ran; his imagination was still in overdrive.

But this was life. Growing up. Adulting, or what have you. Vercingetorix took the evening patrol tonight, a shadow pacing the border under a sky brightened slightly by the moon and some stars. He pissed intermittently to layer his scent among the rest of the pack's, but mostly idly watched the horizon.

Looking for. . .something. Goddamn. Something interesting for fucking once, lately.

Now that the pups had been moved out of the den and she had settled them in a safe thicket near the opening of the caves, watching and feeding them had become more of a pack affair. So, it meant she had more time to gather plants and check on her various patients. She still didn't like leaving them for too long, though, and often made sure she wasn't gone for more than an hour or two.

Tonight, she had slipped away to replenish her marigold collection and had picked up Verx's scent instead. She followed it to the borders, wanting to check in on him, especially now that Aurëwen had left. Speedy was unsure where exactly she had gone or why, but she assumed she had a good reason and hadn't asked anyone anything about it really. She worried what effect it might have on Dragomir, though; his condition was still very fragile, and she hoped his mother leaving wouldn't set him back any.

She found Verx stalking along the edges of the territory, gaze trained intently on something in the distance. He practically radiated restless energy, and it brushed against her senses like heat from a fire. She gave a soft chuff to inform him she was there before coming up along his side, greeting him with a friendly: Hey, Verx. How are you? a warm smile curving her lips as she spoke.

Ah, just the woman he wanted to see.

Speedy, he greeted fervently, turning to grin at her approaching figure in the darkness. I'm pretty good, Verx lied, glib for once. How about you and the kids? He canted his head in invitation, still smiling. Walk with me?

Yes, of all the distractions, all the company, he had sought just a few moments ago, Speedy was the best of them all. But how to capitalize on the joy he felt seeing her? He'd have to be suave. And fuck if he wasn't suave, right?

(Wrong, but A for effort.)

He can't help feeling restless when his mother is away — even when it's dark, even when he's exhausted, he notices her absence. Some part of him fears she might never return one day. So when she leaves again tonight, he slips after her quietly, following her scent as quickly as he can manage. So, not very. But he is very determined, and eventually it pays off.
His pace picks up slightly when he spots her, and he finds himself unprepared for the increase in speed — and not quite graceful enough to pull it off yet. He trips over his own paws as he reaches his mother, stumbling in his attempt to slow to a stop and instead flipping forward with limbs splayed. He lands in front of Speedy, flat on his back and dazed. Mom? He manages after a moment, calm but rather confused as he tries to process this series of events.

Her smile widened at his greeting, but she was surprised to hear he was doing 'pretty good' with all that was going on. She wondered if it was just an answer given to placate her so that she wouldn't dig any deeper into how he really felt. She wouldn't push him, though; if he wanted to talk about it, then he would. We're all doing fine, she answered. The kids are growing too fast. She could at least offer him some company,  which seemed to be exactly what he wanted. Sure, she replied when he invited her to walk with him.

But before she could take another step, the sound of something quickly approaching made her pause and whip her head in the direction of the noise. She saw her son just in time to watch him tumble over himself and skid to a stop flat on his back in front of her. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight. Castor, sweetie, are you okay? Speedy asked worriedly. She lowered her head down to nuzzle and inspect him, hoping to help him right himself as well.

Speaking of the kids -- He let out an amused, gentle snort as the boy tumbled their way, his eyes soft. Hey, kiddo, he remarked, brows arched high. He glanced at Speedy, grinning. Growing too fast. Seems about right.

Vercingetorix lowered himself slightly, so he could better look the clumsy child in the eyes. You're Castor? he confirmed. I'm Vercingetorix. The bigger kids here are mine; I'm their daddy.

Kids without a mother, for now. And others without a father. . .seemingly for good. He gave Speedy another look, this one with intrigue. Was there potential, here? Maybe they could help each other.

Not that he was totally working an agenda or anything. Nooooo.

The shock wears off after a few moments, and his ears flush as he scrambles back to his feet, finally noticing the dark wolf beside his mother. He takes a deep breath, shaking his fur out and struggling to hold on to his composure. Yes, He tells Speedy, gaze locking on the dark wolf as he addresses him. He's silent for several moments, eyes narrowing as he regards the man.
Castor Cambria, He clarifies, tone sharp. Not kiddo. His gaze flits between his mother and the stranger, settling on the latter eventually, and he suddenly starts to wonder why she's here with some random nobody instead of him, and Acheron, Spica, and Syrma. There's no reason for it, surely. Unless... You need hurb? He adds a hard H despite not knowing that herb is spelled with an H, as Hela pointed out because she hates fun. His tone is more neutral this time, but still far from friendly.

Even with his assurance that he was fine, she looked him over anyway but found nothing out of place. She smiled at Verx as he spoke to her son, the father in him showing then. But her smile quickly faded with Castor's curt greeting. Castor, remember, we have to be respectful of others, Speedy admonished. She was pretty lenient in most ways as far as mothers went, but she had always pressed the importance of being polite. She gave Verx an apologetic look before turning back to her son.

Despite the rough start, she couldn't help but smile at his next words. He had heard her say it the right way many times, yet he pronounced the word with an H for some reason. But it was harmless and awfully cute, so she never corrected him. No sweetie, he's not sick or injured, she answered gently. She wondered why he had asked? Maybe that was all he thought she did when she wasn't taking care of them; it certainly felt like that sometimes. She was focused on Castor, so she missed the look Verx had given her. She would happily help Dragomir and Isilmë any way she could, though. And she would love it if their kids became friends.

relevant Eddie gif:

Thus admonished, Verx took care to blink slowly, nodding. Castor Cambria, he repeated, hoping to mollify the kid. Sorry about that. He flashed Speedy a smile at her own rebuttal, not openly disagreeing (for who was he to butt into parent-child disputes?) but enjoying the back-and-forth, anyway. He shifted, waiting for the two to finish their conversation before speaking again.

Your mom has done a really great job at taking care of my son, Dragomir, Vercingetorix said, turning his eyes back to Castor. I'm really thankful for the work she's put in. And it was sincere. Between her and the boy's mother, he didn't know whether Drago would be alive now without their help. Seriously.

His ears canted forward in interest. You know Drago? The dark-furred boy with brown eyes, he added, hoping that the description would suffice and not have to, you know, go into the myriad injuries and all that.