Dead Empress Backwater Wake of the Flood

OOC: Atlas is home again and looking for comfort after his misadventure. @Kalysta but also @Hera and parents are welcome

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Following his return home, an exhaustion had set into Atlas's bones and he found his wanderlust waning. The pup's first day home had been spent sleeping, eating as much as he could to fill his aching belly, and curling up among his family. Their smells were constant-- a far cry from their faint traces on the breeze on his trek back home, and for once he found himself grateful for it. He was grateful for their warmth. His little body shook even in the warmth of the den. Atlas nuzzled closer into his sisters' fur.

He could still feel the fear and desperate hope that raced through him when he howled for his family. When he'd managed to raise his head skyward and release a small, weak howl toward the distant sounds of pack. He had never felt so helpless than after washing up and now he hoped he never felt like that again. He never wanted to feel his wet fur dragging him down again, water knocking him this way and that in a constant surge. He whimpered and nosed deeper into soft fur, trying to shoo away the memories of being swept away.

(This post was last modified: Nov 14, 2024, 03:28 PM by Viorel.)

The salt and pepper wolf had been beyond relieved when Eros had told him that Atlas had returned home. All this time he had been fussing over Kalysta to make sure that nothing happened to her, and maybe he should have been looking more closely over his youngest son. It was almost as if the water were out to get him, first Sephrina and now such a close call that the dam burst. He had been tempted to rip the beaver that made it apart in retribution to being so neglectful to his home, but it wouldn’t have helped.

He wanted to fawn over him, smother him with attention and concern, but knew that he needed to get his rest. Viorel waited as long as he could before seeking him out, his heart thudding dangerously in his chest. Until he set eyes on the two children curled together he felt like couldn’t truly catch his breath. He could not have been able to go on if he lost two sons in one season.

They were almost too big now for this, but just like they had been tiny cubs still, the father curled up around them protectively. Breathing in deeply as he settled down, he took their scent in, all the way until it filled the pit in his stomach.

Please skip Az going forward unless he is interacted with.

I'M STILL BREATHING, I'M STILL BREATHING

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(I knew what I wanted, I went in and got it, did all of the things that you said that I wouldn't)

Asmund had been one of many helping to search for the boy when he'd vanished. Other children had filtered out and in before, after all. The outside world was not exactly the death sentence that he'd thought it to be for most of his life. Still, he was surprised when he'd heard Atlas had managed to find his own way back to them, appearing right at their metaphorical door.

He was glad for Viorel, most of all. What a relief it must have been, especially after...

Az settled down onto his stomach, dark coat blending well with the shadows from which he watched their surroundings. There was no desire to interact with any of the whelps himself, but he would guard them, hoping to give his adoptive father a little more peace of mind. While the time passed, he'd also do his best not to think about what had become of the brothers who'd been there from his earliest memories. Caring for him and his sister and mother, smiling and bringing gifts and playing with him and Llinnea.

He shifted his weight and hardened his focus.

(I told you that I would never be forgotten, and all in spite of you I'm alive, you took it all but)

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I'M STILL BREATHING, I'M STILL BREATHING

(This post was last modified: Nov 19, 2024, 01:23 AM by Asmund.)

Atlas shifted to rest atop his father's legs, curling up against the larger body of Viorel. He had rarely enjoyed being so close to his parents. They were simply a means to get outside and wander. But being washed away in the flood had left him cold and now he soaked up the warmth gratefully. He let out a deep sigh.

The pup was cozy in his den once more, though from the cramped feeling inside he knew it wouldn't be long. He and his sisters were growing fast and the den was becoming too small for them. Still they could sleep comfortably together.

"Missed you," he murmured, eyes weary and voice soft with his sleepiness.

Viorel felt a sense of relief and calm that only his family had ever been able to give him. He had no idea that in just a few short weeks Kalysta would also be missing and this whole process would begin all over again. For now, everything was good and as it should be. Atlas crawled onto his legs, freeing himself from the puddle that he had become with his sister, and the leader sniffed him over carefully.

In the end there had been no harm done, and it only served to reassure him that his boy had learned to fend for himself and could survive on his own. At least for a short period of time anyways. Soon they would be too old for this level of affection, and Viorel knew that Atlas was quickly reaching that point already, so moments such as this were precious to him. Smiling he said, ”I missed you too.” Then questioned, ”Okay, tell me all about it, I want to hear about the adventure you had.” Maybe focusing on the good would make it less of a frightening experience, for him, he was sure that Atlas had been fine.

Atlas thought back on the initial moments after washing up on the river's shore. He'd emerged feeling like a wet squirrel, paws heavy, head and tail low as he crawled out onto the mud. He could still feel the grit of dirt between his teeth. He licked his lips to try to dispel it.

"I dunno what happened," he murmured, ears flattening. He didn't want to admit he'd gone too close to the river, not after being warned not to run off. "I had to eat bugs for a bit and they're so fast. It was hard to get them out of the air. But then I caught a frog! It was slimy." Atlas grimaced at the memory. It'd felt good to fill his belly with something other than grasshoppers and moths, but if he never had to eat another frog, it would be too soon. He'd felt so victorious when his paws landed on that little green blob, but he didn't celebrate the kill. He just scarfed down the first actual food he'd had in days. Better than the snail he had tried to eat, at least.

"I thought since the river washed me away, I should just follow it back up. I don't think I want to go near it again." It had taken hours to wash out the smell of river water. The idea of taking another swim in the near future made his belly twist with anxiety. He wasn't fond of it. He'd sufficiently learned his lesson about getting too close.

The grimace on Atlas’ muzzle brought out a chuckle from the leader. He nodded, ”I never cared for frogs once myself, though they do make for good pranks if you ever want to scare your sisters.” This moment felt reminiscent of talking with Oleander about the frozen frogs he had found in the creek, and recounting the tale of using them to scare his grandmother and aunts by hiding them in the den. He wished his own children could have had the same idyllic childhood that he had.

Sniffing Atlas behind the ear, he was pleased to hear the final sentence. The water had taken so much from him and his worst fear was that his son could have ended with the same fate that Sephrina had. He thought he had given his children enough lectures that they wouldn’t be reckless near the water, ”That’s probably a good idea, at least for a little while. The Backwater is a lot calmer, more predictable.” It wasn’t prone to sudden flooding at the very least. It was good for fishing and for cooling off in the heat of the winter, or for laying nearby and brooding as he had been prone to doing the last couple of years.

The idea of pranking his sisters with one of the slimy green amphibians made Atlas giggle. He rolled onto his side, legs splayed as he grew more comfortable and sleepy. His nose stretched upward toward his father's face. He was looking at him upside-down.

"We can catch some frogs tomorrow. I'm an expert now," he waved his paw in the air and flexed his toepads. "Or I could catch a grasshopper. They're really crunchy but you can just smack 'em. I bet Hera and Kalysta will go running if I bring it in the den. But I'm tired." Atlas's eyes closed as he shifted closer to Viorel's side. "Mm, tomorrow."

He mumbled out the last few words before he closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the ground. He'd missed this so much.

Atlas settled down at his side, and his words brought a chuckle out of Viorel, who nodded and conspired, ”I bet if we both work on it, we could even surprise them with frogs and crickets at bedtime.” He didn’t mention the fact that Kalysta had not returned and that he was hoping she would have been with her brother. It didn’t feel like the time to try and stress out a child who had only just found his way home himself.

As his son fell to sleep, Viorel looked up towards Asmund who he knew was standing guard nearby and gave him a grateful smile. He knew the man was not a huge fan of his other offspring, but appreciated that he always helped out in his own way. Maybe not the most enthusiastic babysitter but always a silent protector when members of the pack needed it. He nodded his acknowledgement before settling his head down upon his paws, careful not to disturb the child by his side. Soon he would wake him up so they could go to the den where Clover could look him over, but for now this was enough.

There voices were a bit hard to ignore, though Asmund did try. The boy was so naïve, innocent and he both loathed and envied the fact. Viorel's care and reassurances strengthened the memories of his mother. It was difficult, really, to sit through moments like this. Everything was an emotional labor to some degree for Az, however. He was used to exerting this kind of discipline.

When they lapsed into silence, his watchful gaze panned over them, and he caught Viorel looking back. Asmund blinked, then carefully constructed a wobbly little smile of his own. Not exactly an out-of-the-norm expression for the awkward young man.

As father and son drifted in their rest, Az found a little more calm in his own head and heart. He remained on his vigil, making personally sure that this little bit of peace lasted for as long as possible.