Dragoncrest Cliffs Willow Tree March

@Mercy’s absense was felt immediately. Dragoncrest was quiet that evening, as if the land itself became reticent from the young woman’s departure. Njord replayed the image of her fiery pelage disappearing past the borders. He sent out a little prayer into the universe, as dusk blanketed Sapphique, and asked his father, Valtyr, to watch over their Vixen from above.

Another memory stuck with him – the vivid image of @Meerkat’s adverted gaze when she slipped away to be alone. A bad feeling weighed down the bottom of his heart like silt in a river. Even though he was physically present, Njord felt helpless to ease his wife’s sadness. It felt wrong to give her space in this hour. Shouldn’t he help bear this burden?

As the stars began to twinkle above, Njord set out to find her. Yet, his success depended on if she wanted to be discovered at all.

She supposed now that Mercy was gone, Meerkat didn’t have to worry about accidentally making her feel bad about all of this. She didn’t really want to burden her mate and sons with her grief, either, so for a little while, she kept to herself. Meerkat couldn’t hide her feelings any longer and just needed a little space and time to let them run their course.

By the time Njord came looking for her, Meerkat didn’t mind being found. She sighed, her breath furling visibly in front of her muzzle on this cold, clear night. She nodded him closer, otherwise remaining motionless. She probably looked a little disheveled, though her tears had dried by now, at least.

I’m sorry, she whispered in the dark, I didn’t want to bring down the room. I just feel—felt—very… fragile. But I’m doing a little better now.

Like an oasis in a desert, Meerkat revealed herself to him on her own time. When she welcomed him, Njord took large strides towards his woman and pressed his body against hers, neck arched protectively. If he had arms, they would have wrapped around her.

There was a new sharpness to his aura. Perhaps it was the cold snap of the approaching winter… or the fog of grief that seemed determined to follow them around. Whatever it was, Njord felt determined to aggresively fight it off.

“There is nothin’ ta be sorry for,” Njord cooed. He only had patience for Meerkat. More and more she seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to Dragoncrest. “T’was a big day.” Even though a part of him understood, there was a piece who wished she hadn’t felt the need to hide from him at all.

It was sorely tempting to wrap herself up in his warmth, permit herself to be reassured by her husband. But there was something Meerkat needed to confess before she allowed herself that. She did press her cheek to his chest briefly before leaning away to catch his eye in the starlit darkness.

But, she refuted gently, there is. I needed to be away from everyone… but you in particular. She let those words hang for only a moment before continuing. You were perfect, doing all of that in Mercy’s honor. And she definitely deserved such a beautiful send-off. And at least one parent who could see her off with such pride and joy. But you… you didn’t leave you, Meerkat said slowly, aware of how dumb that sounded.

Would he even understand what she was trying to say? She glanced off into the darkness, steadying herself with a breath and trying to organize her thoughts so she could articulate herself properly to the man who meant the most to her. He hadn’t gone through these very motions not so long ago, seeing off his loved one and waiting for a return which never came. Just because Meerkat didn’t blame him didn’t mean she could simply forget all those hours of grief and pain or the way that Mercy’s departure stirred such feelings.

The seaman held his bride for only a moment before she withdrew. His expression knit as his gaze searched her face for a reason. The long pauses in Meerkat’s speech drained the confidence in his spirit and the answer, she explained, made his blood chill.

At first, Njord didn’t understand and this showed in the way his brows pressed against the blue of his eyes. Just the other day Meerkat had spoken of their future children and happier times ahead… but it seemed she had concealed the true depths of her hurt. Perhaps even from herself. Every day felt like swimming through a hurricane – the more he fought against the waves the faster his energy drained. A small current would be followed by a stronger swell. Yet, he listened and tried his best to follow.

“I ‘av cut you,” he paraphrased with a metaphor, “an’ that wound stays open. Seein’ Mercy go… it bleeds anew." Njord’s head bobbed as his lips pressed together solemly, eyes falling to the ground. Though he wished he could undo a summer of absence in one action, it would not be so. Time was the only antidote, and even that was not guaranteed to heal the rift he had caused.

He sucked in a fresh breath. “There isna a way for me ta truly ken tha painful path you walked, but I will do my best ta understand an’ help mend what I ‘av hurt,” he promised. “Today should av been a day of fufillment… an’ you shoulda been sharin’ in tha pride and joy. But that – I – it was stolen from ye.”

The islander felt there was little he could say, or do, in that moment. The prison of inaction netteled him. Njord swallowed the resentment he felt towards himself and pushed a breath out his nose. If he endured this emotional shipwreck, would they find a peaceful island shore?

Before she could ponder how to rephrase in order to properly express herself—and not sound so damning, in hindsight—Njord ventured a guess. She looked at him solemnly as he posited that seeing Mercy leave reopened the deep psychic wounds left by his own departure earlier in the year. He seemed to understand that Meerkat hadn’t been able to enjoy the positive aspects of the celebration, not when at every turn, it reminded her of another, more fateful day.

It would’ve been hard to see her go, either way, Meerkat said quietly, looking down at her paws, then up again, but, yes, I suppose that about sums it up. I want you to understand that I don’t hold it against you. That’s part of why I didn’t want you with me until I cleared my head a bit. I didn’t want to make you feel any worse than you already do about it. I didn’t want to burden you, or the boys, or anyone, really. The focus belonged on Mercy. And, she finished a bit lamely, I’m still not sure I’m making any sense.

Meerkat sought Njord’s eye again, one side of her mouth crooking into a sad smile. Then she closed the distance between them, snuggling against him without a moment’s hesitation. She was still ever so glad he was here with her and she hated that she couldn’t just let go more easily. But Meerkat knew she had to give herself some grace. She had been through quite a lot this past summer, of course all those feelings wouldn’t just vanish into the either now that Njord was home. Life was never that simple.

To take complete ownership of his actions was a bitter task and Njord could not quite wrap his head around how to seperate cause and effect. Though Meerkat said she did not blame him, here she was… wounded by him… hiding it from him… and it did, in a way, make him feel worse inside. The knife’s edge of his spirted dulled as he realized there was nothing to protect Meerkat from, except himself.

His posture deflated a little and his ears tipped to half-mast.

Yet it was these small moments that would measure a man. Njord chose to turn his heart towards Meerkat and, when she snuggled against him, he nuzzled her back. Their ordeal was over… and they would face the painful ghosts of yesterday together.

“You make sense, my love,” Njord validated. “’Tis a difficult thing ta carry alone.” Though he wanted to encourage her that it was okay to share these feelings with him, deep down the seafarer knew his mind was in a fragile state, as well. Meerkat's instincts were spot on. His own thoughts stayed firmly shuttered away -- nothing constructive would come from dwelling on them.

He kissed her forehead as they held eachother quietly for a few moments – the silence broken only by an owl hooting in the distance.

“I was thinkin’…” Njord began tenatively, as if to confirm that Meerkat’s soliloquy was complete. If she had more to say, he would listen. “You, me, an’ the boys could take a small jaunt together. To tha Hushed Willows before the snow falls.” Perhaps a trip would afford the small family time to come together again.

It made sense to him, or so he said. Meerkat was glad Njord seemed to understand what she was trying to say, even though it was so difficult to articulate. She had gone through so many indescribable emotions these past few months, it didn’t surprise her that she would have trouble making sense of them or sharing them with someone else.

He proposed a jaunt to Hushed Willows, just the four of them. Meerkat knew he meant well, just like he had with the celebration for Mercy. But her insides went cold. For a moment, she didn’t even understand why. What could possibly be objectionable about a small foray with her husband and sons?

Then she realized it reminded her of taking the kids to Mereo, without their father, after having always intended to go as a family. The trip had been pleasant enough—a real boon for the kids especially, she liked to think—but it had resulted in Mercy’s desire to leave for good. At least, that’s how the logic worked out in the young mother’s mind.

And would their sons even want to go? Meerkat couldn’t get a good read on either one of them in regards to their da. She liked to think they could welcome him back just as easily as she had, yet she wasn’t so sure. As she inwardly fretted about this, it reminded her of some of the coolness she’d sensed toward her husband from the rest of the pack. Not everyone could forgive him readily, especially those who had been through it before. She thought of Mireille and Sobo.

Now that her thoughts and feelings were beginning to spin out of control, her mind made a sudden leap. Chacal had allowed Njord reentry into the pack. But she wasn’t the only one in charge. As far as Meerkat knew, neither one had refuted their elder sister’s pardon, though she wouldn’t be surprised if there were limits to their hospitality. What if… what if they wouldn’t allow Njord breeding privileges again, on the grounds that he’d failed the first two tries?

Where is all this coming from? Meerkat wondered with despair even as she clapped her paws over her face, wet with tears.

From Njord’s perspective, Meerkat seemed to suddenly combust with emotion. Clearly he had said something wrong. Surprised by her sudden decay, the seaman’s first instinct was to look around for help. But, like his support in the pack, only emptiness surrounded them.

“Shh, shh, dinna fash my love… w-we don’t have ta go anywhere,” he tried to backpedal. Without the powers of telepathy, there was no way to know the long rabbithole she had gone down in her mind. It left him feeling uttely helpless.

“Why don’t we go back to tha den an’ have a rest?” he suggested. Anything to escape the labyrinth they seemed to be trapped in.

She felt a little like she was losing her mind, for a moment. Tears streamed down her face, choked little noises muffled by her paws pressing ineffectually against her eye sockets. Meerkat couldn’t control any of it for a minute, then two. Only when Njord began shushing softly did she suddenly manage to clamp the flow of emotions.

Meerkat dropped her paws and saw the bewildered look on her husband’s face. She almost laughed, though as her eyes traced over his new scars, it quickly sobered any silly notions. There was so much guilt tucked behind his sapphire eyes, it quickly made her regret her outburst.

That’s probably a good idea, she agreed with his suggestion. I think… I had a lot more feelings to process than I realized. More, she said hesitantly sniffling a bit, taking a breath, trauma. But, she continued in the next shaky breath, that was cathartic too. Just… Her voice dropped to a whisper. Bear with me, okay?

She touched her nose to his cheek. Meerkat wanted to apologize for the sudden onslaught of tears, yet she tucked that notion aside. Some emotional volatility was to be expected, honestly, and while Njord probably had no idea what had triggered her just now, he seemed to understand the situation. She just hoped it wouldn’t exacerbate his guilt.

Just in case, she told him, Nothing sounds better than curling up with you and snuggling, just the two of us, for the rest of the night. Waking up to you. Eating breakfast with you. Spending the day with you. And doing it all over again. And again. And again.

Every new sob felt like a knife in the chest and it seemed, for a moment, that Meerkat’s outpouring would never cease. After many long minutes, the flood subsided and the redtail was left with his mate in disrepair. Hiccups and little weeps broke apart her sentences, which only requested tolerence.

“Okay,” he whispered back as he nosed the hair along her temple. The simple word was all he had to say for, truthfully, he agreed blindly. Whatever grasp he thought he had on the situation was thrown out the window and the sudden change in moods gave him emotional whiplash. Yet, he would endure it again and again in an attempt to stay strong when Meerkat could not be, despite the shifting sand beneath his feet.

She seemed to collect herself, then. “That sounds grand,” he agreed with a gentle smile. A part of him stayed gun shy, unconnvinced that she truly meant the words she spoke. If his presence instigated so many feelings… why would she want him so close? In his mind, Njord was only sure of one thing – that more waves would come as the waters, previous supressed, flowed free.

He nibbled at the ruff of her fur in a cute way as his body turned to lead them back towards the Greatpine and out of the solitary night. “I think we could both use a good cuddle,” he said lightheartedly. “What would m’lady like for breakfast?” he asked as his steps took him away from this place.

Even as she spoke words meant to reassure them both, the flurry of worries still niggled in the back of her mind. Meerkat knew they had some merit, yet she would stow them away for another day. Right here, right now, she must focus on keeping herself steady and finding her footing with her husband.

Maybe just some venison, she quietly replied to his question, thinking of the buck they’d felled together, if there’s any leftover? She tipped her head, her wet eyes drying as they warmed.

Fade? :D

“Aye, there is,” Njord told her. “I shall bring ye the venison for a breakfast in bed.” His inntonation exuded gratuity, thankful for the oppertunity to share another morning together… as well as the reprieve from heavier converations.

He walked with her abreast knowing they had survived this squall, but there would be more stormy days to weather ahead.