Duskfire Glacier You see that guy? Super weird

Time - Thursday 26th | Weather - Overcast | Notes; For @Imaq , its currently storming right now so pardon me if I don't fix typos or other issues. I wanted this out quick incase the wifi dies!

  

Day two of hunting. His kills were not overly impressive but they could fill an empty stomach, the main targets for his hunts were water based creatures. Beavers, woodchucks, ducks, geese, fish, and whatever else roamed around the river in the afternoon. Lately, Rye had noticed a small herd of deer frequently grazing and drinking near Qeya lake, fawns stuck close to their mothers but some bravely played away from the herd. It was a tantalizing sight but still dangerous, Rye might slip a few words to Imaq of their preferred drinking location. however, he was not sure how to feel about the possibly pregnant woman going on such a hunt, especially with his accident prone self. Lanes words of not being invalid accompanied his uncertainties, he was confident Imaq would share the same or similar view. Much like Lane and Tzila, Imaq was a self sufficient woman, smart as well. The hotah knew Lane was right but still, worry and hesitance kept persistent pressure on his conscience. Largely due to the lasting affects of his visit to Towhee but he was a bit blind to his painfully personal stake in the safety of all the expecting females. 

His pace quickened with purpose, eager to get to the Qeya river and spot Imaqs next meal but as he drew closer nature did what it does best. The afternoon sun hidden behind clouds peaked out from its fluffy wall to shine on the peak of the glacier, Rye took the time to sit and admire the beauty bestowed upon his home. The spring breeze, seemingly omnipresent in the afternoons, billowed hotah fur and brought with it a humbling peace to clear his thoughts. Rye closed his eyes, slowly drawing soaked air into his lungs until they could hold no more, the scent of spring heavily pungent yet sweet. Pride blossomed in his chest to see his home favored by the light, he saw it as a stroke of luck for his day and decided to bask in the fortune for a few more minutes.

As the clouds retook and hoarded its precious light, Rye moved closer to the river. A few geese splashed in the distance as they bathed their hydrophobic feathers, attempts to rid their wings of parasites, the man saw the distraction as good enough reason to try to ambush them. He bend down low, grass tickling his belly while he moved stealthily forwards but the scent of blood caught his nose. The hotah quickly looked to his wound but saw no blood oozing from the scab, which meant something else was injured. Memories of the other woodchuck limping away surfaced, a new directive quickly replacing his old one. The bicolored man did not move, he let his nose and eyes do the silent searching and his patience yielded him a rough looking chuck. His tail jittered in frenzied excitement, ruffling the bulrush beside him and giving away his presence. The woodchuck scrambled up the bank with Rye hot on its tail, the he-wolf ate up the ground feverishly and selfishly. The chucks wound ultimately lowered the animal into its hasty grave, the woodland man was secretly grateful to have found his lost opportunity and kill it. It was a mercy killing in his mind.

Rye planned to cut up through the forest by the lake, having the same intentions to go to the caves and start his search there as last time. Just like Tzila, Rye had every intention to spoil Imaq with every gift he could find. Pretty rock? Take it. Meals? Out hunting. Furs? He'd tan them. Chores? He'd do them. Anything they wanted or needed, he'd be right there to help. Perhaps it would be too much for the ladies.   

sorry for the wait on this!

Once all the symptoms, some discomforting, of her heat had faded, Imaq found that the uncertainty hadn't. It lingered, clouding her every thought with doubt.

Perhaps she had been mistaken and Wintersbane would be angry that she had conceived -- if she conceived, for aside from persistent nervousness about the entire situation, the shepherd had yet to notice any tell-tale signs of pregnancy. Maybe the fever-coated chief would force her from the Glacier once her (possible) trespass was discovered. Even if the dove were permitted to stay, customs were different in these lands. Rye was not her husband, suppose it had all been just the intensity of the moment for the Hotah and he didn't desire a relationship with their children? 

Maybes and possibilities and ifs were not much to comfort herself with. For a moment, she thought to seek @Iana's (reference) presence -- or maybe even the hawk-eyed he-wolf himself, just to get it over with -- but decided that she would rather be alone, hovering beyond the mouth of the Caverns indecisively for but a moment before loping away from the pack's territory altogether.  

The isabella merle was similarly torn in her intentions. She continued to hunt but also recognized the concern the men had -- especially for the women of their tribe, who seemed to be guardians and hunters themselves. No more taking down big game or scrapping with scavengers, at least until she knew for sure whether or not she was carrying. The she-dog found other ways to be useful, venturing out less and patrolling the borders more often. And trapping small game, fishing, those tasks weren't so dangerous. Even her mothers had continued to do those things well into their pregnancies with her many siblings. 

She had stayed close to home, and close to Rye, throughout her estrous cycle but wasn't sure what to think now that things were somewhat normal. This was partly what pushed her to leave the Glacier, making her way down into the Taiga where the river that had become her namesake ran through the tundra. 

Her gait slowed to a trot and then a meandering shamble as she wandered alongside the banks of the Qeya, cracked gaze and tuliped auds lifting to take in the sights and sounds of the geese that had flocked to the cold stream. Her thoughts continued to tumble along in a derailed train, flitting from one worry to the next until her ears caught the panicked chitters of some woodland creature. She paused, distracted from her trouble for a moment and gladly so, turning to follow after the noise. 

Imaq was surprised to scent Rye as she tracked the scent of fresh blood, slowing hesitantly for a moment until she remembered his recent injury. She came upon him just as he dispatched the creature, unintentionally foiling his plans to seek her out, stopping to watch the woodland agouti in action for a moment -- unsure whether she should call out or not.

Its nbd, take as long as you need! Congratulations btw, I hope baby and you are doing good

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Slowly, he caught his breath. The frame he sported expanding rather largely to compensate for the loss of fresh oxygen in his blood stream. The two weeks of rest and rehab did his endurance little good, although he always tried to stay active during the R&R, his stamina had taken a big hit. Not huge but the burn in his lungs over a light hunt was starkly unfamiliar. Once his breath was sufficiently caught, Rye started on that trek to the caves but once he turned the sight of Imaq surprised him. Still though, he loped towards the merle with the bounty in his mouth swaying side to side with each stride. 

Rye came to an abrupt halt in front of the female, letting the chuck flop to the ground in the process. His tail expressed the excitement the woodland male stifled inside, its wagging wiggled his bottom fervently. As much as Rye wanted to greet Imaq with a soft nudge along her neck, he kept it formal with a humble smile. "That's for you," He gestured to the woodchuck with his muzzle. "It's okay if you've eaten already, I just wanted to get you something in case you were hungry." He informed, the same smile still present, it reached his eyes as he settled down onto his haunches. They searched her features, not for emotion but for what colors her fur held. The caramel brown that was sprinkled with white, how it colored her cheeks but not her muzzle. The bright look her eyes seemingly always gave off never ceased to draw the hotah back, ever so gingerly. All of it was always there but the sun, with its rays, gave her a heavenly look no one could simply look past. Rye averted his eyes from her, sheepishness seeping into him and heating his skin.   

Before she could decide whether or not to draw his attention, she captured it nonetheless as the Hotah turned -- certain she could spot a glimmer of gold as their eyes met, even though she knew he was much too far for her to make out the color of his gaze. The shepherd's head ducked nervously as the he-wolf loped towards her, scuffing a single small paw in the dirt as she waited for him to get closer.

Her cracked gaze flitted up to his own in surprise as he placed the woodchuck at her paws, catching the small smile he offered -- which enflamed her cheeks with sudden bashful warmth and caused her wide eyes to drop again. "Nakummek," the huntress whispered, voice catching in her throat so that she had to clear it to be heard. Despite her timorous demeanor, and the sudden spike in shyness following their encounter, the cur decided to brave the risk of rejection and offered him intimacy: shuffling forward slowly with a small smile to brush her lips along the curve of his ivory and cocoa cheek. 

When she pulled back, the woman tried to organize her thoughts -- struggling for the right words in Rye's language. "D-Did Rye..will..?" she stuttered uselessly, ears pining in frustration as her gaze flickered away -- mortified that she was tearing up slightly, both from his kindness and her own uncertainty of the situation. Maybe hormones were partly to blame too. 

Oak ears fluttered towards the merle woman, her virtually inaudible shuffling towards him pulled his face and eyes upon her once more with shy curiosity. Her muzzle glided against his cheek and without much thought Rye pressed into her affection, a quiet smile building as she pulled away. The she-dog fumbled her words, struggling with finding what she searched for and Rye was about to chip in but in her defeat, Imaq looked away. The hotahs head tilted, his own ears mimicking his packmates but accompanied by an expression of understanding. The man lowered and moved his stature in accordance to meet Imaqs eyes, his own tawny ones gazing softly at her for a moment before attempting to show her reassurance. His muzzle did the same as Imaq, gliding softly across her cheek before risking a planted affection upon the same cheek. A simple kiss that his heart hoped would telegraph, it was okay.
"It's okay," He softly reassured, "Sometimes I mess up my own language and it's one I have been speaking my entire life." Rye chuckled, a hearty smile tugging at his lips. There was a chance that wasn't what she was upset about, the hotah was throwing his best guess out there in hopes of it landing but he felt decently confident that was indeed what Imaq was upset with. Rye didn't understand why, he could only guess that she felt bashful from her initial show of affection, something he shared with her.     

She breathed in deeply, as if she could absorb the reassuring scents of his natural cologne: the aspen and pine of the Taiga, the Glacier’s crisp, faint scent of ice and lavender, moss and lichen, the copper of his healing wound and spice of his herbal poultice. The shepherd leaned into the earthen he-wolf’s touch when it came, both out of comfort and to steady the dizziness swirling through her. She stepped forward, so that the curve of her temple settled neatly against the dip of his uninjured shoulder where it met his neck — reminded of when she had nibbled and nipped him there. 

A small grin graced her features in response when he pulled back to speak, grateful that the Kappa always seemed to know what to say. His humor and encouragement gave her the courage to try again, after reassembling her thoughts and moving them away from how the duo pressed together.

Her grin faded a bit though her tropical gaze was still warm as it assessed him, despite the seriousness of the question she posed to him. “Will Rye be atâtak…father?”

She asked him a question he, at first, didn't understand. The bats and the bees was a straight forward thing, of course he was to be the cub(s) father; but surely she would know that, Rye thought. He took an extra beat to ponder, finding the answer rather quickly after. The once confused look upon his face washed away as recognition replaced it. "Oh! Yes of course!" He said excitedly, a bit surprised at how he quickly blurted it out. Rye cleared his throat and tried again, this time with more composure. "Yes, I will stick around. It wouldn't be right to leave you like that." He admitted. In truth he didn't wish to leave her side at all but Rye did not want to overcrowd the soft spoken woman either. Two sides fighting for the same goal, her comfort, yet somehow still finding ways to fight the other.
"What about you? Do you want me to stick around?" His voice faded, almost miniscule in volume. The thought of being unwanted pained him, if she wanted him gone he would go but ask he stay involved with his children's lives. Even if only slightly.   

Imaq had to fight the urge to laugh at his sudden outburst of a reply, thinking he might take it the wrong way. Even so, she had to bite back a bemused smile -- the mirth in her oceanic gaze not entirely hidden as her speckled crown dipped, attempting to conceal the grin that wanted to curve her lips. 

The spotted she-dog hadn't been too worried about whether or not Rye would help to raise their children, even without Lane's reassurance. What had her on edge the most was what this would mean for them. She had always thought of Rye as a friend and pack mate but her feelings for him and Iana had always been tangled, confused. What did it mean for her to love a woman? What did it mean if she loved a man and a woman? Things were different in these southern lands, she had entertained the notion of founding a Kallalit only momentarily. The merle didn't want to hurt either of them but if they both felt the same way...a day would come where she would be forced to choose. 

"Imaq always want Rye." She blurted the words out before she could consider them. There it was again, always. A cold flush of fear ignited her bloodstream.

The huntress couldn't really explain why she was so scared. Maybe it was just that this was new territory for her, having been banished from the island before she had a chance to be courted in any sort of way. More likely were the many glaring obvious reasons that she was wrong for him. 

How could he still want her when she could barely speak to him? Would he even want her once she could, when he found out she was Sedna's cursed daughter -- an un-woman hexed with death? 

His brows parted as the lids covering tawny eyes lift in surprise, Imaqs words drew the air from his lungs. The urge to cough bubbled to the back of his throat and popped, tickling him. Rye swallowed thickly and, partially, recovered with a frail smile. Only this ivory woman could make him stammer and fluster wildly and all for a silly reason too. He adored the she-dog, the mystic she carried with her at all times was like a lure in a lake. She had him hook, line and sinker. If he knew, Rye wouldn't care about curses or hexes, it was too late. He already saw the nature of his shining star in the nights sky and that was all that mattered to him. He didn't see a witch, he saw a gracious woman whom seemingly had infinite beauty to offer. The man revered her. She was simply brilliant.

"I would, uh, have to say I reciprocate the same." He confesses. Though Rye realizes the words he used may not be known to Imaq and reiterates them again, differently. "What I mean is, it's a joy to have you around." His voice wasn't the strong vocal it normally was but it wasn't weak either. It laid somewhere in the middle, between genuine and nervous. Finally, he said what he felt. Relief poured from his lips in the form of a sigh, his shoulders letting down from their tight tension. Although his head still felt tangled, there was reprieve in expressing his feelings to Imaq directly. It wasn't too grand of admittance but every little bit still mattered. Their future, though uncertain, held some promises of good things to come.  

 

Imaq couldn't stop the way her head cocked in confusion, perplexed by the new word -- trying to decipher what it meant by picking apart the others in his sentence. She had it pretty much figured out when he reiterated, for which she offered him a grateful smile. "Ah," she murmured in understanding, before what he had said really sunk in.

The cur's head bobbed a fraction, as if it again wished to duck bashfully but she managed to stop herself. Regardless, a faint smile pulled at the corners of her lips, despite how she pressed them together to keep herself from grinning like a lovestruck fool. She didn't know exactly what to say in that moment -- whether because of the language barrier or the butterflies that erupted in her stomach, silencing her tongue, she couldn't be sure.

Rather than embarrass herself by stammering to formulate a response, the half-breed ghosted a step closer and brushed the curve of her temple along the pale plane of his chest in response. They seemed to communicate better this way.

"Imaq share with Rye?" She asked him after a moment, with only a hint of the usual timidness that influenced all of her interactions, bending slightly to nudge at the woodchuck's damp coat.

A warm contentment had settled in her chest, as if all her worries had been vanquished and there was a hollow relief in the place they had occupied -- like finally pulling a rotten tooth. She really couldn't think of anything better at that moment than an impromptu picnic date with Rye, except maybe a chance to get to know him better -- they were going to be raising a child together after all. 

wrap up with your post? :)

Archiving!

The response she gave worried him, sent scary attack butterflies to his belly instead of the regular ticklish ones but then he saw a faint smile. It put him at ease, his own faint smile appearing as well, though that was a partial reassurance for himself more than anything. It seemed she sensed his unease and kindly assured him it was okay, intentional or not he greatly appreciated it. Rye returned the kindness in full before accepting her offer to share the woodchuck. Their first meal together, one of many, he hoped.