Northstar Vale But try as I might,

Hit by a feeling she knew all too well, Viskani decided it was time to retreat to her den. Months of waiting, but now it was finally time to see if she had gotten lucky. A daughter, that was all she needed. Aching and already tense in preparation for the skin-peeling pain she knew would come, the Matriarche lowered into her carefully crafted nest.

Over the course of what was far too many hours for her to count, two puppies were born to her. The first had been a boy, stillborn and gone cold far too quickly. There was no time to mourn him now. These things happened, it was simply nature taking its course.

When the second came along it was not the sex she noticed first, a daughter after all this time; Instead it was the state of the back left leg: it appeared twisted, wrong. A brow furrowed as she stared down at the little thing, she was unsure of how to feel. In the mother pack a puppy like this would have been ate without hesitation, but glancing over at the first born, dead before he had the chance to take his first breath, something stopped her. The living child was imperfect, but it was still her baby.

Releasing a careful breath, she turned the little thing onto their back. A girl; a swell of joy grew in her throat. Chandra, ma petite. The name slipped from her tongue so easily, set in stone long before the little girl had ever been born. Licking her clean and pulling her close, Viskani decided it was best not to worry about the leg. Not right now.

The silver male had taken it upon himself to patrol the Vale’s borders, determined to keep his resting place—and, for more personal reasons, its matriarch—safe. Since Viskani had granted him passage into her territory, they had exchanged no words, but he was well aware that her time to whelp was near.

He hadn’t realized just how near until he passed her den and caught the unmistakable scent of blood and fresh life mingling with Viskani’s own. His lack of knowledge in pack propriety was in full force as he stepped through the entrance unannounced, his eyes widening as they adjusted to the dim interior—and to the sight before him.

Viskani, how are you do—OH!

She lay curled protectively around a small, wriggling bundle, but his gaze soon found another, lying eerily still beside her. Hesitantly, he crept closer, his nose twitching as he took in the scene. The young thing had not stirred once; he was gone. A low whine escaped him then.

She is caught off-guard when Noctaryn enters, but not displeased. He is no threat, and she admittedly enjoys his company quite a bit.

Watching him shrink as he spots the first born, she smiles in an attempt to comfort. These things happen. He was not hurt, that is what's important. The boy was dead from the start. Other pups born to her had met worse fates, a matter of life was that some would be cut short. But, there is still another. She gestured to the daughter now, her tail waving lightly.

She was eager to share her, her Chandra. Carefully she nudged the girl; still breathing, still squeaking. In a few hours she would begin suckling, and all would be fine. Just.. fine.

Mishapen, misconstrued, and yet she was here all the same. Laid in the light of her mother there was no way that the daughter could know what was in store for her. The future was far off, life coddling her for the time being.

Taking in her first breaths she had been fast to cling to her mother, the absence of littermates making the Matriarche her only source of comfort.

Cameo! Skippable!

He was no stranger to the horrors of life, yet he struggled to accept that such tragedies could befall those so young. It was not right—not even a little. The child was not his, yet he couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of loss. As Viskani spoke, he gave the boy a gentle lick—a silent wish for him to know love and peace in the world of sleep.

Coming closer, his movements were slow and careful, as if one wrong step might be too much—too overwhelming—and send the one who remained after her brother. Silver eyes roamed over the tiny bundle, watching as she squirmed, her eyes still closed. His ears twitched in time with her soft squeaks, and despite the weight of sorrow lingering over him, a small smile broke through. She was so delicate, so tiny—yet so strong.

Then he noticed it. In her restless movements, one of her back legs twisted in an unnatural way.

His eyes found Viskani’s, confusion in their depths. Her leg…She is okay? His eyebrows raised as he continued. And you, too, are okay?

Inevitably he notices the leg. Viskani is quick to respond to his concerns. She will be fine - the leg will grow.. she will grow out of it. She was not sure if her claims were true in the least; it was hopeful thinking. I am alright. The birth was easier than other's have been.

Without thought her tail came over Chandra, covering the girl's back half. She would ask Seal to look later.

Come, sit with me. There's no need for you to linger. She ushered him, hoping to drift away from the grim tones they currently faced. Today was to be a day marked by joy; she would make it so.

“Good… uh, yes, that’s very good.” He paused, then added, “She’s beautiful and strong, though. Must be from her mother’s side.”

He nudged her muzzle playfully. Viskani had mentioned before that she didn’t mind compliments, and since they were alone, he felt free to offer them. Whether it was the right moment or not, he wasn’t sure.

Blissfully unaware.

Obliging her request, he lay beside her, silent as he regarded the two. Then, Viskani’s words echoed in his mind: You will find a wife. Maybe you’ll have children.

Could he pretend? Just for now, while all was quiet—except for the soft wails and cries that surrounded them.

He realized then: he wanted this for himself. For the first time, it felt possible. But he couldn’t say it—not now. This moment belonged to Viskani and Chandra.

So, he nestled closer, lowering his head to rest on the ground—a silent offer for her to lean on him if she needed. His nose mere inches from where the little one was nestled under her mother’s tail.

After a pause, he asked softly, “Do you have any hopes and dreams, Viskani?”

She was quiet for a moment after the question was asked.

I did, but now I have everything I wanted. I am a Matriarche, even if it did not come the way I expected, and I have a daughter to succeed me. She spoke, eyes staring forward. Was that really all she had ever desired? To fill the pawsteps of her mother? Now she had done just that, and yet she was not fulfilled. Not yet.

Maybe there was more to life than duty.

She looked to Noctaryn now, resting her head on the ground to touch her nose to his. There was no true reason for it, not that she could put into words. It just felt.. nice.

You are a good man, Noctaryn. A part of her wished she could be more like him. In his own way, he was fortunate. I would like you to stay here. In Montagne de Cigue. The words slipped from her tongue without thought.

He would be good to have, for Chandra, for the other children, and partially for herself. Another layer of protection, and a good friend.

His eyes drifted upward, watching her as she spoke. Her gaze seemed distant, as if the words leaving her mouth were automatic—practiced. This talk of becoming matriarch, of succession, felt more like duty than a fulfillment of the heart. As if she had been born to continue a lineage rather than to live a life of her choosing.

But what did he truly have to say about such matters? He knew nothing of this life and could hardly judge how another chose to live theirs. Though, was it truly a choice for Viskani? Or was it merely obligation? The former, he could accept. But the latter? That was harder to swallow.

He felt as if she were trapped, bound by the same chains that encircled his own neck. And more than anything, he wanted to break them. She should never feel caged. Never.

Anger sparked in his chest, but her next words extinguished it before it could fully catch.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed her closeness until he felt her breath on his nose. His eyes refocused, locking onto hers—an amalgamation of golds and yellows, as if the sun itself had fallen from the sky to nestle within them. They were bright, warm. He could gaze upon them forever, without fear of going blind.

He smiled, brushing his nose against hers, his eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn’t quite name—but he felt its warmth nonetheless.

“I have found beauty here. How could I say no?”

He agrees, and she smiles. All is well.

I'm glad.

She held her smile for a moment longer, it was hard not to. Come visit me again soon, alright? I need to rest today. Giving life to another being took a lot out of you - she would be sleeping for as long as Chandra would allow, if she could help it. She would likely eat the stillborn child once Noctaryn left.

Later Chaudry would visit, Chesley too if he was up to it. These days had always been shared with family, and yet she was glad to have shared this one with Noctaryn. It was difficult for her to understand why.

But nonetheless, she wanted to get along with him. She wanted the two of them to be close.

Even if he was a wolfdog.

“Of course—I won’t be far if you need me.”

He rose, pausing to press a gentle lick to Viskani’s brow. It was meant as a simple gesture of support, nothing more. Yet, as soon as he made contact, a flutter of nervous energy stirred in his chest. Swallowing against the unexpected sensation, he cleared his throat and turned to Chandra, repeating the motion in the hope that his intent remained clear.

Once he stepped away, his self-imposed duty would resume—patrolling the borders, standing watch. If they needed a protector, he would become one. This new life, born by Viskani’s side, would be guarded fiercely, cherished in whatever way Noctaryn understood.

Something had shifted. He felt it in his bones, in the air itself. The changing seasons were obvious, but this was different. Deeper. A force both exhilarating and unnerving barreled through him, setting his pulse thrumming with equal parts trepidation and anticipation.

As he reached the mouth of the den, he paused and turned, committing the sight to memory in hopes to carry it with him on his patrol. “Rest well.” 

And he was off, his heart feeling light for the first time…