Lost Creek Hollow cuate

high noon in riverclan was only slightly warmer than it was any other time. the interlaced canopies darkened in soft shadows that held faint dapples of sunshine; the tall ancients brought cool air in breezeways that made the riverbank a sunning area for wolf and butterflies alike, and it was with their little wings climbing her shoulders and the slope of her hip, the edge of her jawline, that silvertongue lazed, allowing herself the rich tastes of a daydream, a life spent with @Crowfeather alone under these emerald trees.

Crowfeather had been busy tending to the boys in the healing quarters. His free time had been spent outside the dens, listening for them, bringing new stocks of herbs to lay beside them while they rested. In the quiet outside Riverclan's place of healing, Crowfeather had found his mind wandering to memories colored in nostalgic pink.

Weaving through the brush, the shadow would have missed Silvertongue entirely if it had not been for the fluttering of a bright-winged butterfly. His eyes followed it to where it hovered over the woman.

Hello, Silvertongue, his voice cracked.

his voice — his voice; she rolled to face him, and the butterflies winged away before her opening lids and they revealed — oh, crowfeather! his golden eyes, his túnica de sombra; her heart rose in pain and anger and a deep abrading love that almost stole her breath. "hola, crowfeather." her voice trained into musical lightness; her figure rolling to her feet as if she felt nothing, automaton, rote. "you look so well."

So well was not entirely how he felt, but a smile still swept his narrow features. His eyes shifted toward the earth as his cheeks flushed with warmth. She had always been this way. The woman before him carried the name of Silvertongue with ease.

I am well, Crowfeather assured her. Busy, but- better. His heart did not feel as though it had been cleaved from his chest. His energy and his mind had been sharpened, focused. The children had helped to sand down the edges of his anxiety. Well.

And you? he inquired, lifting his honey warm eyes to her face. I feel we haven't talked in… a while.

"oh, we have both been busy. i have been to kvarsheim, to the creek. back and forth," she explained, stepping to his side as if she were taking his elbow in the manner of two companions upon some august stroll. "akavir has gone to akashingo. gunnar will be a father this year. there is a man in kvarsheim who wears the name bonnie and has irritated another of the younger leaders, so i will seek him out. turn his head." silvertongue walked as she spoke, setting a leisurely pace; now she looked up at crowfeather, seeing the sheen of his jawline and thinking so bitter of her heart. "and you, mariposa? what have you learned?"

The shadow pressed his side to hers. She shared a great deal of news with him. While he listened, he thought that he should visit Kvarsheim. It had been months since he had brought them a satchel of herbs. Crowfeather had not seen Bjarna since that day. He wondered if she was well, if she still called the neighboring pack her home.

There was a delay in response. Silvertongue's question hung in the air. The dark star batted his lashes and fixed her with his eyes.

I- There was too much going through his mind. I have learned that… I am proud. Proud that we made a place where others can heal. Where they can be treated and- and cared for. It seemed small but felt triumphant in his chest.

"i am proud too," silvertongue told crowfeather, glancing up toward him as they walked. "it is peace like we had not seen before. i have so much pride to have been a part of creating riverclan." a brief pain in her heart, thinking of his children which she had borne. silvertongue had traveled beyond thinking of herself as a mother, and had embraced fully the notion that she would not be missed for this, not when they had ash paw and crowfeather and perhaps even germanicus. "and we have done it all without any blood."

We have done it… together, he said in a quiet voice.

Bloodshed aside, Crowfeather and Silvertongue had managed to create a haven in the hollow. Riverclan would become known as a place of healing, a place of wonder. The stars had guided them. In turn, Crowfeather hoped that he might share some of their power with the wolves of the Teekon wilderness.

Tell me about your adventures, the shadow urged, nudging at her cheek with a quick swipe of his wet nose. Akavir travels to Akashingo? Worry formed in his eyes.

her adventures. would crowfeather enjoy to know she had taken three lovers from swiftcurrent? a fourth, briefly, from kvarsheim? would he thrill to this? would he — "i have hunted all over the valley, i have watched the butterflies return, and seen where the hares nest." slyly, softly, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "yes, akavir goes to akashingo. i did not ask why." and silvertongue did not wish to speak again the name she had given the creek men; it hurt too much, and for a moment her small body leant against that of her taller shadowprince.

I hope he has a good reason…

Crowfeather had grown to like Akavir. He appreciated having the creek close to their home. Most of the wolves he had met from their clan had been honorable, hardworking. The dark star was not so naive that he would forget what happened in Akashingo. Whatever reason the dark leader of the creek had for traveling there, it had better have been a worth it.

The kids are growing.

His eyes shifted away from her. Crowfeather wished that she would spend more time with them.

"each day they grow stronger and more full of life. we should take them to visit the pups in the other packs, perhaps at the close of summer." silvertongue did not feel put upon as she discussed shadowpup and stormpup. they were not hers, after all; the children belonged to ash paw and to crowfeather. a touch of pain to think it; she moved on, planting a kiss to his shoulder. "they love the butterflies."