Whitestone Monadnock More than one way to skin a cat

Up to you if you want to write it out or fade here <3

Her mention of the sibling Craw had never met buzzed around in the back of his mind as they disposed of the two bobcat bodies. He watched them fall until they stopped moving and he could no longer reliably identify them, their corpses too small and the monadnock too high. He grunted in absentminded assent to her decision to let the stench of cat fade from the cave before moving in. The mention of Wraith made him pause, though, the implication that the man would take the news hard, but as Morganna moved to lean against him, laying her head across him, Craw turned his head to the side enough to see her out of the corner of his eye.

"He isn't a child, we don't need to shelter him," he said quietly, without admonishment, bringing his rear down so that he sat, encouraging her to do the same. The puppies would be well for a few minutes yet, and he could tell she needed the break. The kittens probably hadn't provided the level of distraction she needed. He twisted gently beside her, to reach her ear with his smallteeth, an affectionate growl rolling in his throat.

"Tell me about Asriel." With so much happening in the here and now, they had never really had a chance to indulge in the past, in the aspects of each others' lives before he had joined Willow Ridge and their little conspiracy had been born. Now, though, life was secure and comfortable again, the tumultuousness of the willows were behind them, and they could afford to just stop, breathe, and relish it.

It would soon be time to tell her everything, after all. There was still much yet to do.

Up to you if you want to squeeze one more in or archive :D

Tell me about Asriel. What was there to tell? He left, to be accompanied with a shrug - just another name on the long list of disappointments that had littered her life so far. That might have been her first response to anyone else, but she had promised to not keep @Craw in the dark. As he sat, she too moved to sit, bringing her head back from across his shoulders as she did so. "One o' @Greer's brothers, Deacon," another brother he did not know of, along with Castiel, "went missin' when he was only a few months old. He'd been stolen by a member of a pack that once lived in the Ghastly Woods. Of course this wasn' immediately apparent. We searched, I found him with one o' them but she scampered. @Skoll found the pack and dealt with their leader..."

At least this part of the story could bring a smirk to her face and a chuckle to her tone. "Remember when we first met an' I said I thought yer might ‘ave been th’ ghost?" A silly superstition to be sure but at least now he might know why the idea had been in her head at all. But what came next was quick to wipe her smile away. "We got home, he wasn't there. I kept lookin' but the Lyall was home so nobody else did. He was big enough ter look after 'imself but we were only yearlin's. It just never sat right. He wanted th' Ridge, he was lawful enough, Archer enough..." How the name now left a bitter taste on her tongue. "Short answer though, he left. Just like all the others." It would be clear from the faraway look in her eyes and the set of her jaw that she was done reminiscing for now. There were borders to patrol and caches to check, children to feed. A farewell bump of her nose snuck its way beneath his jaw as she rose. "If he is alive. He's nobody." Nobody, no one. The only siblings she had left were half.

Had it been the wrong thing to ask? Having noticed the subtle shift in her manner, the wolf kept silent, letting her take her time in answering - or deciding not to answer, as was her prerogative. Whether or not the question was a sensitive one, though, she indulged it. The story came out brief, though it was all too easy to imagine the complexities and drama behind the events she described. A stolen child, a dead pack, a Skoll murder, a ghost -

He huffed his amusement at the reminder of it, a low 'hm!', a recollection of the very first conversation they'd had so long ago. He hadn't given that particular aspect much thought since. She mentioned a Lyall, and he wondered just which one she meant - Angier, or the man who had reclaimed his family's part of the cedarwood? Or some other member of that family? Craw knew about the rivalry there, but in a faraway sense, because Grizzly Hollow had been such a non-issue when compared to the very fundamental problems that the Ridge itself had. Now that they had removed themselves from that situation, perhaps he would make an effort to learn more about the history there, too.

But it was clear that Morganna was done. Craw didn't press her for more, and stood in unison with her, content to accept it. He left, just like all the others. With a soft rumble, he brushed his nose against her shoulder, along her neck and up to her cheek, his body aligning with hers for a moment so that he could feel the length of her torso in his guard hairs. He would accompany her back to her children, who were now her closest blood relatives in the world. If Greer had not come, they would have been the only Archers, and from Craw's experience it was clear that true Archers were not used to being alone.

But she was not alone. She never would be. I'm not going anywhere.