Whitestone Monadnock I still mess up but I'll just start again

for @Craw

Morganna tried to put the earlier events of that morning behind her, children content with the injured rabbit and both Craw and Wraith nearby should they need anything she took her leave to make a pass of the northern border. Of course there was little of interest to be seen, nor sniffed - their high vantage point gave them a clear view to any major threats and so far, loners had been smart enough to keep their distance. It was a peaceful existence after all the tension of the Ridge, and she found herself in equal parts relieved for the change but also missing it. Perhaps she just missed her excuses to chew on someone's ass, and she had just let Renier leave uncontested.

Warm limbs carried her back up the scree to the top of the monadnock, a quick wrastle with her childen enough to turn them on each other before she moved to press her nose into Craw's cheek and wander off a ways. It had been a while since they had held any meaningful discussion (probably largely in part to her callous handling of Odin's berry incident, oh but the memory still bought a smirk to her face but she would tuck that away for now, wondering if perhaps he was finally ready to tell her just how she could repay him for their time in the Ridge.

PP'd mentions inkeeping with stated 'assumed interactions'. For my own reference, this is also probably set a week earlier or so, closer to the Renier and 'berries' incidents.

Settled near to the children's sleeping quarters next to @Wraith, it was proving to be a comfortable afternoon. @Isuni passed them by at some point, having just woken up, and Craw had poked good-hearted fun of her unusual sleeping habits once before as she left, though they did not concern him - even if she slept all day, he knew that she would make up for it by being active all night, and the red woman had given him no reason to worry about her contributions. It was in all ways an ordinary day, as he and his trusted Second lightly discussed recent events in the pack, touching on @Renier perhaps most of all - Craw still didn't know how to fully interpret what had happened there. Wanting to think about something less troubling, he had coaxed Wraith into telling him about that small, strange black girl once more, cackling at the tale just as much as the first time. The conjured images in his head were not growing old anytime soon.

As Morganna had approached, he had rolled back onto his side to greet her, having been leaning towards Wraith as they talked. The subtle message in how she touched him and walked off was gotten instantly; chuffing his appreciation for Wraith's company, Craw had heaved himself up, nipping at his Second's nose with one last ripple of laughter before trotting after Morganna, his contentment etched in every movement as he fell in line beside her.

He didn't ask what was up, instead rubbing the bridge of his long nose just under her jaw, a soft, questioning rumble in his chest in place of words.

She leaned into Craw's embrace, perhaps if she had been heavier it might even have been enough to make him lose some ground, as it was he stood steady as always - her rock and far more impressive than the one they sat on. She smirked at herself for getting so sentimental. "I was thinkin' o' takin' th' kids down ter meet mother an' Angier. Teach 'em how ter deal with rivers an' trees, once they're a bit older." It was purely conversational, as nice as it was to leave the Ridge behind it still housed her siblings and her parents. She had punished them for Nicolo's and Skoll's ineptitude by removing her children from them. Besides, she wanted to see if Hecate had managed to weasel her way back into her mother's good graces somehow.

Morganna considered waiting to see if Craw would bring up their conversation on the Plateau on his own but she wasn't convinced it wouldn't take some prodding. Hardly one to dance around with words and subtle hints she allowed a small silence to stretch between them, observing the lowlands to the north and wondering just why they had come so far, so fast. "So 'ave yer decided ter tell me what I can give you yet?" it was phrased as a tease but meant in all seriousness. Her children were born and safe, they had all survived the ordeal. What was it he wanted?

If his mood hadn't been so warm already, the mere notion of her going anywhere near that waste of space which was the willows would have brought forward a rather more unhappy response than his mere snort of acknowledgement. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Their quarrel had been with @Nicolò and @Skoll far more than @Elettra and @Angier, and while Craw held no ill will against the latter, he felt uneasy at knowing that the former two could be placed in any kind of proximity with three of the wolves he valued very highly.

If either of them so much as touched a hair on any of their heads, Craw would take their own.

"As you want," he conceded, not needing to express any concern when she was probably perfectly aware of it. That and besides - she knew how to look after herself, and he knew better than to try and tell Morganna Archer 'no'. "But let me send @Celandine or @Greer to check on them first. Given the state of the pack when we left... I half expect that Nicolo has destroyed it by now." And there would be no question that, when she left, she would take an escort. No way would she be making that long trip on her own with two young children to mind. @Wraith immediately sprang to mind. Perhaps he would send one of the women, too, but he trusted his Second to take care of them all more than anyone else.

He would go himself, but just the thought of willow trees made his gut turn.

But while he was mulling over her impending journey, it seemed that she had other things on her mind. His train of thought was jolted rather harshly from one world to another as he initially failed to catch her meaning - and then abruptly remembered what he had said to her what felt like a lifetime ago. He snorted again, but this time with a small, wry smile, turning his yellow gaze out onto the vast horizon. Naturally, it gravitated north. "I did say after they were born and safe, didn't I," he rumbled, with a gentle, teasing kind of regret, as though he wished he didn't have to bring it up yet - and that wasn't all a lie. "In order to explain, though, you'll need... context."

She wasn't certain if she was pleased or disappointed when he didn't choose to challenge her plans, instead making only reasonable suggestions to prepare for such a journey. It had also crossed her mind that she might find nothing more than a few abandoned caches and the empty den in which she had spent her own early days, and she knew no amount of denial, nor will to acknowledge such if it was the case would undo what very well could have been done. "Probably best ter send @Greer, mother'll be worryin' about 'im an' he'll wanter see Angier too." It might also give him a chance to bump into his Plateau girlfriend, since apparently @Celandine did not fit the bill, and she very much doubted it would be the girls missing companion @Maeve.


One matter dealt with, she followed his yellow gaze to the north, feeling the reluctance run off his silver coat. She considered herself a fairly open book but she had never bothered to delve into Craw's past for what did it matter to her? She never questioned how he got his scars (remembering the look her nonna got when questioned on the same) and figured that when the time was right he would tell her whatever he wanted her to know. Neither seemed to be the pour your heart out type. After all, this whole partnership had been born more from a compatibility of personalities than some whirlwind romance. She couldn't go getting too sappy now.

"I've got nowhere else ter be," she offered as encouragement, but she wouldn't push the issue too far.

A flick of an ear and agreeable turn of the snout was all his reply to her suggestion to send @Greer, for it was perfectly sensible. Under better circumstances, her brother alone would have sufficed, but while Craw did not fear @Elettra, @Angier - or, indeed, most of Willow Ridge - he did not trust that @Nicolò's attitude towards one of his deserters would be favourable, family or no. The man had proven that he put very little importance in shared blood. @Skoll, too, was a concern, though only through how unknown his current frame of mind was... and that kind of erratic nature had been his entire problem in the first place.

So he would send @Celandine too. They made for a very capable pair, worked well together, both knew the way and were the fastest among them. They would be safer together if things took a turn for the worst, and in case it went smoothly, Greer could be permitted to linger when Celandine turned back to make her report.

Clean, efficient, and settled. He would find and discuss it with them that very day.

With that behind them, so now came the matter of discussing something which was simultaneously very far behind him and yet always lingering ahead, like some carrot dangled in front of his face which had started to rot. It had been a long time. Things had changed. It twisted his gut to admit that his priorities had changed, and it twisted them even more to know that they hadn't changed enough; no matter how comfortable he was at Whitestone, it was always at the back of his mind. Closure was still out of reach, and every day it grew a little more stale.

"I was driven south." His mouth was dry, and he was still gazing out in that forsaken direction, unable to tear himself away. "I suppose my father and I went through similar motions to you and Nicolo - except we both very much followed through on our threats."

And I lost. The seed of rage had taken root a long time ago and resisted every effort to rip it out, and there it blossomed again. Finally he turned to look at her, with a distant acceptance, a hard, angry weariness. He needed to tread carefully for both their sakes, to gauge his own reaction as much as hers. It was a lot to admit, to commit to words, to accept. She might see him differently. She would see him differently. But he couldn't pretend that the wolf he was today was some other new creature, someone detached from what had brought him here, someone who hadn't endured it and caused it and relished it. He had abandoned the name, but he couldn't deny what had brought him to that point.

Where was the best place to begin? With the crux of it all, with what was most important.

"I have no living children, but spring before last, I sired seventeen."

(This post was last modified: Aug 15, 2016, 10:03 AM by Craw.)

She sat steady under his stare, breath held even and gaze unflinching as he spoke of being driven south, and while talk of children turned her ear for just a moment she gave the words a moment to sink in, weighing up the options. Seventeen... SEVENTEEN?!?! Surely not all to the one woman? Her lady parts flinched at the very prospect, an uncomfortable expression ghosting past her face at the very thought of the whole horrendous process. "I hope they 'ad more'n one mother," her tone light-hearted but taking heed to respect his loss by not breaking down into a fit of hysterics. Two had been bad enough, she struggled to think how her own mother had managed more.

Seventeen?! 

She inched closer to press her flank solidly along side his, gathering her thoughts before she said something insensitive. Hardly able to imagine losing one of her own, she knew better than to correct him by adding her own to the count. After stepping in for Sven she knew first hand it never would never compare to looking at a child and realising that was something you made. So what was it then? Some terrible disaster? The unfortunate victims of some civil war or jealous mothers squabbling amongst themselves?

Or was it something else entirely? With the recent turn of events had he denied her because he just didn't think of her that way? Or was he trying to avoid... something else entirely? Of course, it could have simply been the fact that he didn't like to share and it was obvious there would be no certainty beyond the fact that they had been born to her. "I was almost convinced I'd never 'ave children after last year," the words came unbidden by way of explaining her own train of thought. If she could be certain would she have done any differently? Given the circumstances probably not.

"What happened?" She didn't want to reopen old wounds but he had to have expected her to ask.

His breath halted as she cringed, but just as quickly she made it clear that the discomfort was not entirely directed at him. The quip was met with mixed feelings; on the one side, it was as sore a subject as it ever got for Craw, but on the other, she was making her acceptance of it clear with a gentle jest. He could not resent it. Not just anyone would be able to listen to that number and take it in their stride so well.

When she came to move alongside him, he leaned into it with a soft rumble, appreciative and relieved. He let her process it in silence, expecting questions and not unwilling to answer them. He could have just unloaded everything, but it was easier on them this way; he did not know how to coherently explain it, and she could just pick at the pieces she was interested in, and eventually the picture would be laid clear. Her own confession was met with raised brows, a fact about herself he hadn't known - another hint that they were one and the same. In all other ways, that would have been a positive, but in this? Two similar curses wouldn't cancel each other out, only magnify.

At least she was wrong. It had taken who-knows how many men, but it had been worth it for her. Their tactics had been the same, just matched to their gender. At least it had worked out for her.

He was ready for her question. "Thirteen women," he said quietly, wondering how she would like that number. "Eight pregnancies. Seventeen newborns, including nine stillbirths. Three didn't survive their first night, too weak. One survived nine days. Two were strong, a boy and a girl, my treasures. They made it to two months before... before he kept his promise. I underestimated him."

The numbers seemed so well recited, like they had been repeated over and over until they were burned into his brain. Thirteen, not so far from five when it all washed out. To hear that they were taken by his own blood was answered with a growl of her own, the sense of their move finally acknowledged. She could never be certain her own children would be safe in the Willows whilever Nicolo was around.

Thirteen.

Her shrug was more a nudge, she was leaning so close, "Well if that's what it'll take I'd rather raise'm myself." she conceeded, not feeling the need to clarify that she would accept no upset to her own position, nor tolerate any he might choose of thinking themselves above whatever station they might have (if any). It could so easily become messy but she trusted @Craw would proceed with caution, but she very much doubted that was what he had in mind when they spoke up on the Plateau. 

Her eyes drifted to the North once again. Driven south, and here they were, somewhere between south and north no doubt, as direction was determined by the target she supposed. "I don't suppose yer'll understimate 'im again will yer?" A feral grin had begun to edge its way onto her face, she was growing fat and lazy without a goal to aim for. "What's yer plan?"

The growl was soft, a renouncing of the horrendous act, and he did not doubt she felt it all too close to her own heart. A boy and a girl, a boy and a girl, threatened by family who should have wanted to protect them. But life wasn't always a fairy story. Had Nicolo appeared more of a danger, the comparison would have been made all the swifter - and the Whitestone wolves certainly would not have left on such warm terms.

As with the first number, she accepted the second without ceremony, though her statement brought a dark-tipped ear twisting around in her direction. Did he hear that right, did he understand that correctly? Though steeped in seriousness, he could not help the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in a brief ghost of a smile, yet more appreciation for the brilliant creature that was Morganna Archer. He certainly knew how to pick them. Of course the situation now was different to the one which he described, but not in all ways. He had kept his distance last spring out of respect for their uncertain relationship, out of a lack of desire to share her, out of fear that his efforts would have amounted to nothing anyway. Next year, it would be different yet again.

It was his turn to growl as she grinned and provoked him, the answer a resounding and emphatic 'no', and when he met her eyes again, his teeth were bared in a hungry, vicious, vindictive version of a smile. "To rip out his throat," he hissed through clenched jaws, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, mouth watering at the very idea. "He's still there, I know it. He has to be. And he will pay."