Blacktail Deer Plateau you got me in love again

She felt flushed—the spring morning cast a warmer glow on the plateau which was promising, but as the silver-painted she-wolf pressed her nose to the shrubbery, she felt a faint but familiar itch upon the back of her nape.

Perhaps it should have brought joy—but instead, she could feel a spike of anxiety press upon her, and shifting, the svelte woman brushed her muzzle up, gaze squinting against the sun as she took in her surroundings.

Idly, she considered—and while she had foraged a bit of herbs, it wasn’t enough to sate her satisfaction of it. Still, she wound the little she did find within the rabbit skin before gingerly picking up the satchel—her slender form beginning to weave toward the borders, where she assumed her mate would likely be.

Reyson had grown to haunting the borders. He didn't know what else to do. He had grown further into his solitary being. He sought out his mate, his left children and Tamar. Any other time he stayed to the borders and hunting.

For 6 rotations of the seasons Reyson had walked this earth. He had been beaten and brutalized. He had walked beside death a time or two. He had fought to survive and once he had fought to die. But somewhere something higher than him had refused to snuff out his life. 

Those years and that brutal life was beginning to really show. His scars were growing starker as his fur grew lighter. The edges of his muzzle were growing grey spots. And in the mornings he felt it deep wothin his bones that rough life.

He seemed lost in thought—her own contemplation only interrupted when the behemoth entered her sight. Perhaps he did not see her—and so, with grace, she settled her small collection down and began to tiptoe closer to the border guardian, finally snaking in front of him and tucking herself deftly into his chest as she pressed her muzzle to his throat, fluttering kisses upon him. “Happy birthday, lover,” she preened.

Reyson heard steps a beat of aminute to late. And then her scemt shrouded him and he chuffed as she tucked herself tightly against his chest.

A soft purl of a sound left his throat. And he looked down at her with a teasing glint in his eye.

Hello Meadow.

Gentle laughter. Thanks.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her eyes traced over him—her lips brushing up as she tried to coax him. Swiveling then, she cast a look at her collected herbs and then shrugged—they would likely be there when she got back—before she began to lead them both now on the border line, assuming this was the route he intended to take.

Reyson followed behind her. Easily taking her stride and matching it. Like a dog on a collar he'd go wherever Meadow led him.

Mm. I was juat thinking of the children and you and Tamar and the vale. This place. I feel.

Hmm he liked the peace but he still felt like an outsider in a way.

Well I don't know exactly how i feel.

Reyson was hesitant with his thoughts—even as she walked, she could feel it. Not only because she knew him so intricately now—but because she, too, felt it in her soul. She looked to the man at her side—a sad smile weaving its way to her lips. “Like here is a placeholder?”

She missed Niccolo and Deja. She missed Tamar, who had been gone for some time now.

She wasn’t a stranger to adjusting to a new home in a new territory, time after time. She had spent her life doing so.

But wasn’t that the point of it? She was tired of not just having a place to call home and having it feel so.

A soft nod. Yes that was right. And it hurt, but not in a way that anyone could tell. He felt pain for those if they chose to leave behind, that they may hurt their pack.

Yes

He lookd around. But I also don't know what to do? If leaving would work or fail. If staying would work or fail.

He sighed. A soft brush of his muzzle along her spine as they walked. What about you?

She trailed slowly, listening to her husband and yet still her gaze darted around, taking in the land they had been trying to call home. She could not pinpoint the reason why—her heart yearned for Deja and Niccolo—for a happier Tamar and Arsenio. For the life they had wanted to build in the Vale.

“I want…” She bit her lip, casting her eyes up to him now, a look cast over her shoulder as the wind ruffled at the silver and copper of her fur as he stroked a fire along the length of her spine. “I want to find Tamar and take the kids and build something of our own.”

Meadow was listening. And yet. He knew she was loat in her own thoughts. Thinking and wondering. So he grew quiet, while she chewed over her own thoughts.

He blinked surprised, but also not. He had known Meadow wasn't happy here. Neither was he. A soft nod.

Then we will. You talk with Tamar and we will go.

Teyson was growing oldwr. He would see hia wife happy and established before long before death took him.