Fireweed Rise What Next?

For @Thoval, to the unknown of their relationship haha

It had been two and a half moon cycles since she went into - labor is what she was told it was called. Anyone else would've been devastated, destroyed, upset, heartbroken...affected. The light tawny girl woman felt barely different than before really. It had hurt like hell while it was happening. The after? There had been two dark bundles, smaller than anything she had ever seen. Was she supposed to feel anything? Had her own mother felt anything when she and Lyx had gotten snatched? These were the questions that occasionally plagued her mind. Cyn filled her time with hunting or allowing her twin to distract her. Thoval had been around and thus she mostly avoided him but really that was it these last few months. Still no sign of Pae, Sov left, Apple was around (ish). If she were honest she was bored with this place. Though her russet other half was still entertained so she would stay. Never abandoning him.

Her stormy blue eyes swept over the red wildflower field. A small smile creeping on her too creamy may at the memory of her the Fe finding this place first. His chaotic thoughts leading them to stomp the flowers, leaving destruction in their wake. Her dark banner swayed casually behind her as she debated on recreating the memory. Ultimately the need to avoid the swirling questions in her mind won out and she bounded into the flowers crunching them underneath her paws and stained them red. A wicked delightful grin adorned her maw as she bounded about not minding her surroundings.

Thoval emerged from the undergrowth like a half-forgotten nightmare. His lighter summer pelt was streaked in blood, both fresh and dried. His muscles were taut from the recent chase, and his eyes sharper than ever. For a while, he didn’t speak. He watched as the sandy blur tore through the sea of petals, her grin wicked as ever.

Not Felyx.

A few more steps brought him forward onto the flattened crimson bloomscape. His larger paws crushed a few more blossoms underfoot. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, allowing a moment more for her to frolic. Undisturbed. Free.

He inhaled once, then exhaled. A simple breath. Almost laughter. Almost.

A small smile formed on his dirtied jaws, his voice low and ragged.

"Thought you might be gone too. A bit too far to reach in a day, but here you are. Still breaking things." For such a choice of words, his tone made his statement more affectionate than scolding. His eyes dragged across her with something unreadable — respect, maybe, or the quiet recognition that some griefs are too big to wear outwardly.

"The world owes you more than broken flowers."

Then softer, almost like an afterthought. He had kept his distance when Cynder had whelped, allowing Felyx to attend to her. While he was well acquainted with both the smell of birth and death, he chose to remain as an ever-present shadow. Their little chitchat about birds and bees had been a storm all on its own, and he preferred that to be the end of it. Instincts and natural urges should have kicked in by now. And, if they hadn't, well, he was the safe space for the twins to process it all.

"I got deer scraps. Didn’t feel like sharing," his tone was too stiff, even for him, "least not until I found someone worth feeding."

He didn’t look away, didn’t shy from the dirt they carried in her wake or the ghosts that clung to the air between them. This wasn’t tenderness, not quite—but in Thoval’s language of violence and devotion, it was the closest thing to it.