3/14/2025, 11:39 PM
![[Image: Viv_FablePost.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_FablePost.gif)
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
"Home" was, at times, such a hollow word when one assigned it to a place.
It lacked the vitality of a pumping heart, like the ones locked within the chests of those Fable cherished most. The meadows were cold, so much colder than the dreamer would ever have wanted, but the proximity of all her dear ones gave her enough warmth to weather the brunt of it - her mother, siblings, daughters, and the extended family she found both in the remaining members of Avon and Dawnbreak alike. While she no longer connected herself to Archon in a conventional way, her life was forever stamped with his influence, but she could hardly complain when it took the form of her five daughters and the Shakti-Vaes kin north of her borders.
They were a quilt drawn across her shoulders - family, chosen but not assigned. She could have plucked her litter up and moved them elsewhere after her break with Archon, but she hadn't been inclined to; Fable wanted her daughters to have a buzzing family, even if she personally shared no blood with many of its components. A familial unit, she was learning, was not always linked on a biological level - sometimes it found root in the converging of circumstances and a kinship owed to bonds forged out of choice rather than obligation.
Her morning patrol was less a formal motion on this particular dawn and more of a surveillance of Aisling, who wove a sporadic path ahead of her. She hung back enough to not be detected by her daughter, but her green eyes were watchful from her position. The whelp had no idea she was being tailed, but Fable preferred it that way - she wanted her to learn how to stand on her own, to choose her own path, even if it took the form of an expedition to investigate the budding growth of spring.
Soon, she wanted to speak to Tiberii and Aurelia about everything, to truly clear the air in the wake of... all that had transpired. She hadn't been ready during the tournament or even the couple weeks trailing after it. The thought swirled in her mind as she plodded along, one ear tipped to her right as she followed an invisible line that tethered her to her fawn-spotted child.
It was all still so new, her change in lifestyle, and she had not yet afforded herself the time to process and scrape together composure. Her efforts had been poured into her daughters, to protect them as best she could as they, too, navigated their transforming lives. Fable had never anticipated her life would take the twisting turns it had, but fate had a way of manifesting regardless of readiness.
Her nose twitched as a familiar scent caught her, and a tip of her head in its direction revealed the mottled sun. Fable's feet paused, curve of a smile pressing across her lips. A brief glance was cast in Aisling's direction, but she had told her often not to step past the boundaries of their pack, unless she was accompanied by an adult.
She could not let what happened to Gamma repeat itself - she would resist it with every fiber of her being. Fable trusted the Dawnbreak wolves, but Avon's other three sides were uncharted and therefore potentially dangerous.
Fable altered her path to cross with Solulfur's. The presence of blood urged her to quickly glance the dark wolf over, but she appeared whole and uninjured - the tang of metal and salt was owed only to the hare clutched between her teeth. It inspired a tinge of worry for the whereabouts of Sycamore, but she understood the fae often had their own whims and ways. They operated upon their own timelines and deigns, she could not expect to fathom.
It lacked the vitality of a pumping heart, like the ones locked within the chests of those Fable cherished most. The meadows were cold, so much colder than the dreamer would ever have wanted, but the proximity of all her dear ones gave her enough warmth to weather the brunt of it - her mother, siblings, daughters, and the extended family she found both in the remaining members of Avon and Dawnbreak alike. While she no longer connected herself to Archon in a conventional way, her life was forever stamped with his influence, but she could hardly complain when it took the form of her five daughters and the Shakti-Vaes kin north of her borders.
They were a quilt drawn across her shoulders - family, chosen but not assigned. She could have plucked her litter up and moved them elsewhere after her break with Archon, but she hadn't been inclined to; Fable wanted her daughters to have a buzzing family, even if she personally shared no blood with many of its components. A familial unit, she was learning, was not always linked on a biological level - sometimes it found root in the converging of circumstances and a kinship owed to bonds forged out of choice rather than obligation.
Her morning patrol was less a formal motion on this particular dawn and more of a surveillance of Aisling, who wove a sporadic path ahead of her. She hung back enough to not be detected by her daughter, but her green eyes were watchful from her position. The whelp had no idea she was being tailed, but Fable preferred it that way - she wanted her to learn how to stand on her own, to choose her own path, even if it took the form of an expedition to investigate the budding growth of spring.
Soon, she wanted to speak to Tiberii and Aurelia about everything, to truly clear the air in the wake of... all that had transpired. She hadn't been ready during the tournament or even the couple weeks trailing after it. The thought swirled in her mind as she plodded along, one ear tipped to her right as she followed an invisible line that tethered her to her fawn-spotted child.
It was all still so new, her change in lifestyle, and she had not yet afforded herself the time to process and scrape together composure. Her efforts had been poured into her daughters, to protect them as best she could as they, too, navigated their transforming lives. Fable had never anticipated her life would take the twisting turns it had, but fate had a way of manifesting regardless of readiness.
Her nose twitched as a familiar scent caught her, and a tip of her head in its direction revealed the mottled sun. Fable's feet paused, curve of a smile pressing across her lips. A brief glance was cast in Aisling's direction, but she had told her often not to step past the boundaries of their pack, unless she was accompanied by an adult.
She could not let what happened to Gamma repeat itself - she would resist it with every fiber of her being. Fable trusted the Dawnbreak wolves, but Avon's other three sides were uncharted and therefore potentially dangerous.
Fable altered her path to cross with Solulfur's. The presence of blood urged her to quickly glance the dark wolf over, but she appeared whole and uninjured - the tang of metal and salt was owed only to the hare clutched between her teeth. It inspired a tinge of worry for the whereabouts of Sycamore, but she understood the fae often had their own whims and ways. They operated upon their own timelines and deigns, she could not expect to fathom.
A fine mornin',she greeted the Dawnbreak wolf with a dip of her head when she drew to a pause, positioned conversationally.
![[Image: Viv_FableFB.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_FableFB.gif)
