Rhythm… was not doing very well. In the end her heart was broken, but the symptoms of it were many. She had been quiet, there if the pups needed her but they were getting so big already they hardly called upon her anymore. Not that she blamed them. She was a slow, blind old lady. The thought of her grandchildren in Abaven was a daily occurence, multiple times a day. The thought of them and her son made her chest ache along with the heavy arthritis that settled in and was only made worse by the cold of Autumn.

Had she not been gifted Feather Rhythm might have allowed herself to waste away. The little bird often reminded the old wolf to eat, though it pained her Rhythm made frequent trips to the orchard. She sought heavily the fermented fruits of the forest. They helped her to forget what she was missing now and what she had missed in the past. She could settle herself, and at least drift into a fitful sleep. The aging Destruction did her best to hide her downhill slide, she had lost enough weight that it would be visible on her frame.

Rhythm found her way to the orchard now. She hadn’t sought Valentine out hardly at all, but he was likely out training with one of the kids. With her head low the blind woman searched the forest for the fermented fruit, with Feather chittering at her from the branches, very much concerned. Rhythm ignored her with a flick of her tail as she indulged in the fifth fruit she had found. This one a particularly spicy peach.

Valentine spent his days both overjoyed and exhausted. His youngest litter was rowdy and growing strong. Soon enough they would be yearlings and he could boot them from the den and set them loose on Boreas. And, more importantly, go back to being a grumpy old man who napped frequently in the sun. God he missed naps.

Presently he was walking the line between the orchard and the range in search of one of Tyrian’s trinkets. Supposedly it had been flung in this direction at one point and lost forever, but he was going to be the judge of that.

Valentine spied Rhythm close by in the Orchard but made no move to join her or call out to her as he walked the border. It felt like she was actively avoiding him so he didn’t want to be a bother. This has been her state for some time now and more than once Valentine had found himself flirting with the thought that perhaps he had made a mistake in asking her to help raise the litter. He desperately needed the help and she had been helpful, but her defeated and boozy demeanor was that of a slave and he didn’t want them thinking it was acceptable behavior.

The sound of pawsteps made her take paise, and the smell of Valentine reached her nose. She didn’t wish for him to see her like this. Unnaturally she panicked and wasn’t sure what to do, she felt.. shame? She lifted her head from the fruit and decided to just sit down. The pain in her joints wasn’t quite as sever this many in, she felt better so why did it hurt so bad to know Valentine would likely see and smell her?

What had she done to get to this point? This was not what she had planned to do with her afternoon but the thoughts were there and Valentine’s presence forgotten. She didn’t want to be this waif that haunted legion. She wanted to be helpful she wanted to be involved with Valentine’s.. kids. No matter how she felt about the explanation of their existence. But she hurt, her body was old and it protested heavily to the abuse endured for so long. She had become a burden. Maybe she would be better off remaining outside legion. She could be close, but also wouldn’t be sucking off Legion’s resources. Feather could help her to scavenge, she would survive for a while. Maybe it would be better if the winter would just take her quietly into its cold arms.

Drunken mind decided rhythm stood again, Feather chirping more insistently as her paws moved her forward. She was on a mission, this was no ambling drunkard. With purpose behind her steps Rhythm quietly went out to seek a new den. For about four steps before she stopped and sat down again, sudden clarity shining through her clouded mind. ”Well, what should I do, Feather?” Her words hinting on desperation. ”Will you feed me berries and nuts so my weight might not be felt?” The birds chirps softened slightly for a moment before looking to Valentine and adding another sharp quick note.

Rhythm’s dark ears fell to her skull as she remembered his presence and felt ashamed all over again. ”Valentine.” She whispered as tears welled up in her cloudy eyes. ”I need help.”

”Valentine,” her soft voice somehow managing to cover the distance between them. He turned to face her and noted her tears. ”I need help.” Yes, yes she did. That had been apparent to him for some time but you couldn’t help someone who didn’t want it, so he’d let her be and hoped she would bring herself to reason.

Though he wanted to scoop her up and wipe the tears from her eyes, his gut told him it wasn’t the right approach. Rhythm was a grown ass woman. She’d gotten herself into this mess and he wasn’t about to hold her hand and try to help her wish the problem away. Kisses and snuggles did not fix this problem.

Valentine took a deep breath and then said, ”Alright.” Where to start? He couldn’t leave the kids alone with the skunk or cats and he wasn’t sure he trusted Rhythm on her own. So what the fuck did he do.

”This is what we’re going to do,” he said in a tone that suggested there would be no dissent. ” I’m going to take you back to the den under the tree.” She wasn’t sobering up around the kids. ”Where, if you mean it, you’re going to stay until you’re sober. Zahir and Lefty will stay with you and get you whatever you need.” Unlike the bird who was too small to be of much good, both the cat and the skunk were equipped with the means to keep the old woman in line.

He swallowed hard as he looked at her, but was determined to be firm so he said or did neither of the things he wished to. Firm. He was going to stand firm.  ”And then we will talk.”

Valentine was still there, he heard her plea and his deep voice was quick to follow. How’d she allowed herself to fall this far? She wanted to melt into a puddle and seep into the ground to cease existing and to stop being the burden she’d turned into. That was the easy option, the hard option was to push through the pain and grasp on to what it would take to return herself to.. to what, normal? What was normal? So many years she’d spent as a blind slave, used only for her body. What was she supposed to do?

Her thoughts swirled in her inebriated mind as she made an attempt to stand. She wasn’t so drunk she couldn’t make her way to the knolls, but she couldn’t be expected to walk in a straight line. ”yes,” she hiccupped as she found her feet and followed after his voice, feather right behind her. The arthritis medication she had been using previously was nowhere near as effective as the alcohol, but unless she thoroughly wanted to lose herself it was likely her only option.

Head and tail down Rhythm followed meekly behind the slate titan, managing only a little wobble as she went.

Valentine studied his mate quietly for several seconds. Had she been able to see his face she would have found his expression unreadable. In all honesty he wasn’t sure how to feel. Mostly he was just tired now. He wanted to be angry with her and to scold her for her reckless behavior that was now preventing him from parenting his young children, but the part of him that recognized she’d led a hard life kept him in check. Though he loved her dearly Valentine couldn’t deny Rhythm’s Destruction blood and the weakening effect it so clearly had on those who possessed it. He couldn’t fault her for her lack of fortitude, but he could love her despite it. Valentine would do what he could to help her. He owed her that much.

It looked like Rhythm was going to try to hobble all the way to the den, but Valentine found the idea of a drunk and blind old lady bumbling through the woods with him at her side repugnant. She was going to have to do all of the hard parts of this process on her own, but here he would help her. He would be remiss if he didn’t. More than anything else he wanted her to know that he did care and he wasn’t helping her sober up out of obligation.

“Look old lady,” he said gently, his brusque words not matching his tone in the slightest. “I appreciate the gumption but you aren’t walking there.” He then strode to her, crouched down and slid under her ribs so that she lay across his back. He then stood and gingerly began to walk to her den under the tree.