Ocean's Breath Plateau shady grove

@Simbelmyne

Though their tenancy still felt somewhat tenuous to the panther, his spirits had lifted considerably from the heaviness of the glacier. He felt, finally, as if he were exactly where he wanted to be. There were days when he thought of Ulloriaq. Nights where he dreamed of her returning to the glacier to find them gone. He thought, too, about Valiant, and how they were both going to be fathers this year — something neither of them had thought likely not too long ago. It seemed a shame that they should now be parted after so many years together — and for what!

They had each come independently to the decision that their partnership could not continue if they were to be happy. But now they were happy, and once again in sync, and yet still so far apart.

But, despite these secret pangs, Dutch felt at peace.

He carried with him a bundle of flowers in his bloody maw, and extra spring in his step as he whuffed for Simbelmyne. He'd spotted them on his way back from a hunt, and he'd plucked them without a second thought to bring to his wife.

Simbelmyne stirred in her sleep, and when she awoke, parts of the dream stayed with her.

She had had children at her side, but when she looked up, a great white bird passed over her- wings stretched, glistening and beautiful. Something felt familiar about it- but when she looked to her side, the children and all evidence of them were gone. 

She moved to seek solace in the warmth of Dutch’s coat. She whispered his name and squeezed her eyes closed. She drew back then, to see he had been carrying flowers with him. Her pupils narrowed and her expression grew concerned. ”Herbs? Is everyone alright?”

The question startled a laugh out of him; the flowers fell onto Simbelmyne's sleep-mussed face.

"Everyone is fine," he assured her, nosing the flowers away as he settled near. "They were pretty. They made me think of you."

They were black and yellow — a poor but cheerful echo of her own charcoal and wheat coloration. He would find her something more useful next time, or perhaps just a more lasting trinket. Eventually, he would land on something that brought her joy. In the mean time, he lavished her face with kisses to make up for it — or perhaps just because he was in the mood to make a nuisance of himself, so long as she was in the mood to put up with it.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked her. And then, cheekily, "Did you dream of me?"

Her feathery lashes brushed away the petals as the flowers dropped, drawing her gaze with them. A moment later, they widened with surprise, and moistened immediately. The corners creased as she smiled. 

”Ohhhhh,” A billowing and undulating note slipped past her lips and she carefully stepped over the flowers with one paw to bestow several kisses upon his cheek before she drew back to carefully collect and gaze upon the bouquet she had been brought. 

She had scarcely a moment to enjoy them before her husband stepped forward and showered her in kisses as well, summoning a peal of happy giggles from her as she sought to return each kiss with one of her own. 

Honeymooning; it was bliss.

”I did dream- I dreamt-“ and then she remembered. The gull, the children, and then their subsequent disappearance. ”I dreamt of children, and a bird- a sea bird, I think,” She said. ”I think- my time, it will come soon,” She said, and while there was hope in her voice, it was furtive. The pack had already welcomed two litters of children- would it be so welcoming of another? ”Will we…We will still be able to have them, yes?”

The panther basked in her affection, easily forgetting what he'd come this way for. He'd only meant to deliver the flowers before recruiting Sulukinak to help him drag the carcass closer to the heart of the territory.

"Good," he replied, eminently pleased by the idea. He had misgivings of his own about how things might pan out, but when she asked, he found his heart at ease. He pressed his forehead to hers and breathed in her ever-shifting scent.

"I promised you your dreams," he told her, drawing back to gaze into the warm honey of her eyes. "And you dream of children — so it is children you will have."

Part of him wanted to leave it at that, but he knew this was a matter in which she deserved to be informed.

"I don't know if we can have them here," he admitted, a sad little smile tugging at his muzzle. Despite this, any sorrow he felt over it couldn't seem to bleed the warmth from his gaze. "But we will stay close. To the seal hunters, and close to @Sumac — he is a brother of mine, only recently returned to us."

A tiny smirk played at the corners of his mouth. He'd clearly thought of something he found very funny.

Her worries faded momentarily, though as he explained further it seemed that her suspicions were confirmed: another litter here in Moontide might prove to be too much of a burden on the pack. 

He offered, then, a solution which was amenable to her. Being close to Moontide would mean that they had helpful neighbours…It would also mean that the families could grow up together- she would be delighted to have children for her own to play with. 

”I like this plan,” She said, with a relieved sigh. She opened her mouth to speak again, but noticed first the oddness of his expression. Something private and coy about his smile teased of a secret lurking just beneath the surface like a silverish fish. She tilted her head to the side and squinted, smiling. ”What are your thoughts?” She pressed.

His smile broadened when she questioned him. Dutch suffered through a pang of unrealized regret as he imagined how things could have gone — but the result was that he felt more helplessly grateful than ever to have stumbled into his current circumstances.

"I'm glad that I came to my senses before I had the chance to introduce you to him," he admitted, just a little sheepish. It was clear from the gleam in his eyes that he meant this earnestly, and then perhaps even clearer by his next suggestion of, "Let's go back to bed."

It was a slow-motion tackle, then, as Dutch tried to entice her back to the soft furs from which he'd first disturbed her rest.