Redtail Rise a valentine

a wolf for a wolf.

that's how it felt. Arielle has returned; she heard the news on the wind and digested it slowly, chewing upon her name, shaking her head.

how would Ancelin feel?

but Prophet is gone. had been scarce around the time of her birth, and now—she could not reach him. she'd give him 'til the equinox to return. . .and then what?

he's the father of at least some of her children.

but gone.

Avicus looks upon her quartet and sorrows, silently, wishing both their fathers were present. as it was, she seeks @Ashlar, crooning gently for the healer. 

she hopes Prophet will return—but if it's anything like Tulimaq, he will not.

she can only rely on Ashlar.

Ashlar did not know where Prophet went but his disappearance disquieted the Hælend. He would not have vanished by choice, not after so long and such loyalty. Not with his children here.

It boded ill, but Ashlar could only trust he would make his way home.

He did not know why Avicus called but assumed she or someone needed something of him, so he came as quickly as he could. He’d spent some time with the pups but hadn’t tried to crowd… he knew that Masquerade now held a title suited for caring for them and was happy to give her that place. It suited her.

Hard to believe that some might be his.

The bard slowed as he approached and smiled hesitantly, seeing no urgency and hoping that meant nothing had happened.

the dark, slight and familiar form of Ashlar enters her vision, and she draws closer to the entrance of her den, head and shoulders into the light. her shoulders loosen slightly, but her face is still tense; anyone could see that, and especially Ashlar.

he gone, she remarks, voice hollow. he knows who she speaks of. i dunno where. why.

her emotions color that last word like splatter paint. the one i trust. the one i took in. the one i love. she doesn't want to think of him in past tense and so she holds those words at bay, her chest aching.

your babiehh', she says, gesturing toward the four pups at her belly.

all his? likely not.

but circumstance may have made Ashlar a father, and he should see it now.

Ashlar looked at her and his concern returned with a new depth. He knew that Prophet would not have left by choice. She was upset in a way he’d rarely seen, but rather than resent this, he merely moved in to press his cheek to her ruff in understanding.

He meant to offer to search for Prophet, but her next words killed that suggestion before it could be voiced. Yours. He looked at them, then back to her, surprise mingling with recognition. Then acceptance.

He didn’t think he could live up to what was expected, but he would do his best to be what was needed. Until Prophet returned.

Ours. He said quietly, meaning her as well as the rest. I’ll be here. Always. He knew it was true; if nothing had drawn him away yet then nothing would. He would always be hers first, for better or for worse.