4/26/2025, 9:05 PM
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SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
The northern border was the more lax angle of the territory, mostly because Fable felt little to fear from the Dawnbreak wolves. She knew Shiloh checked in where he could and - unless something had changed quite grievously - two of the current Pillars did not harbor ill will for her or any of Avon's members. Given one was involved with her brother, she enjoyed a certain degree of comfort in having one neighbor who would likely not harm herself or her children.
This world was often cruel and any reassurance was worth its weight in gold, if wolves had need of such a thing.
Fable vaguely recalled seeing Solulfur during Avon's previous summer festival and again at the tourney. She had competed and fared quite well, she remembered. The memory of the summer solstice was hazy given the drunken stupor she had been in - she had still been mourning the loss of her pregnancy and it was unresolved, creeping into every aspect of her life at the time until no part was untouched by the twisted vine of ichor.
Now that she was neighbors with Dawnbreak, she could connect with the Shakti-Vaes brood without liquor.
... Okay, maybe a little liquor sometimes - hopefully with less weeping.
Solulfur's question lured a hum from Fable.
For now, she'd steady their elbows - or at least hover nearby, prepared to do so, until they did not have need of her any longer. The thought stung, that they would one day be self-reliant, but it was bittersweet with the tandem of pride it inspired as well. How could she both dread and look forward to a singular thing?
She wondered if Archon had come there or made contact. If he had, she pondered, too, what he had told them and if it was accurate. A seed of mistrust was sown into her heart by his past actions - including his lie that she was dead - and it would take time, a great deal of time that may not even exist, for her to extend him any modicum of faith.
This world was often cruel and any reassurance was worth its weight in gold, if wolves had need of such a thing.
Fable vaguely recalled seeing Solulfur during Avon's previous summer festival and again at the tourney. She had competed and fared quite well, she remembered. The memory of the summer solstice was hazy given the drunken stupor she had been in - she had still been mourning the loss of her pregnancy and it was unresolved, creeping into every aspect of her life at the time until no part was untouched by the twisted vine of ichor.
Now that she was neighbors with Dawnbreak, she could connect with the Shakti-Vaes brood without liquor.
... Okay, maybe a little liquor sometimes - hopefully with less weeping.
Solulfur's question lured a hum from Fable.
Of sorts,she admitted, tipping her muzzle in the direction of the distant Aisling, whose back remained to the two of them. If her daughter knew of their presence, she gave nothing away.
M'daughters are findin' their own paths, but I am not quite ready t'let them walk them alone.
For now, she'd steady their elbows - or at least hover nearby, prepared to do so, until they did not have need of her any longer. The thought stung, that they would one day be self-reliant, but it was bittersweet with the tandem of pride it inspired as well. How could she both dread and look forward to a singular thing?
I would welcome your company,she went on with a welcoming grin, shifting her frame so that the broad side of her body now faced the darker wolf. Fable's steps pressed forward, assuming Solulfur would fall into step with her.
Tell me, how do things fare in th' Vale? I have been meanin' t' visit.
She wondered if Archon had come there or made contact. If he had, she pondered, too, what he had told them and if it was accurate. A seed of mistrust was sown into her heart by his past actions - including his lie that she was dead - and it would take time, a great deal of time that may not even exist, for her to extend him any modicum of faith.
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