Ivy was starting to realize that his mother wasn't coming back. She hadn't been in their den, she hadn't been... here. The weight of that realization was enough to crease his brow to a furrow, was enough to make him... what was that feeling in his chest? Sad. It was sadness and anger in the same breath. Why did she leave? Why wasn't she coming back? Where was Alfrún? The concept of death isn't something that the young pup really understood. Bedtime had come and gone, and Ivy had slept... some. Not enough. Not nearly enough, but there was an aching between his ribs. At once, it seemed that the den he shared with his father and siblings was stifling. Too hot. Too many bodies. Too close together. No. Ivy was awake, and he was too warm. Ivy was awake and he didn't want to be. As quietly as he could, he disentangled himself from the mass of bodies within their den. He stumbled on clumsy paws out of the den, just to the doorway. To the doorway and just a bit to the side, so he wouldn't be visible in the low light of the moon. It was a warm summer evening, humidity hanging around his shoulders like a curse. Something felt off. Felt wrong. Alfrún's absence weighed more and more heavily on him as time went by. In an effort to self soothe, the pup found himself singing quietly to himself in a child's tenor. It was one of her Icelandic lullabies, his favorite. Ivy didn't know (at least not yet) what the words translated to, but it sounded ever so frightful. He couldn't help but to love it.

Kore had snuck out of the den, intent on seeing the moon. Since his birth, the nebula boy has felt a pull toward the silvery object, a part of him longing to talk with it. For some reason, a piece of his soul lays up there, hanging in the sky for the world to see. He loves his little family, loves his Auntie Mortif and her kindness, but a piece of him is missing and he thinks the moon has it. Bright blue eyes stare with quiet introspection at the moonlit goddess, trying to understand why. Why does he feels so empty… so alone? For a long time, or what feels like a time in a pup’s world, the nebula pelted boy sits and watches, trying to think of something to say to the unreachable moon. Finally, his voice can be heard, a soft whisper against the sounds of the night, “Mommy? Are you up there?” He waits for an answer, instead receiving a pang of sadness when no one answers. With a sigh, the pup lowers his head and hunkers down into the grass, trying to understand.

Then, a sound tickles his ear causing the pup to raise his head and cast his gaze in the direction of the noise. It’s a song and it is calling him. Pushing himself to his paws, the purple pup moves closer, needing to find the source of the tune. Uncertainty lingers in steps, causing Kore to doubt himself but unable to stop.  He finds himself near the entrance of a den when he finally stops, worried eyes glancing around for adults. Is he supposed to be here? A heavy sadness weighs on the nebula boy tonight and perhaps he hears (or thinks he hears) that same deep sorrow in the tune. Whatever the reason, Kore is mesmerized by the song and he softly questions the night, “Who is singing that?” Bright eyes peek toward the den, uncertain if he should stay or leave.


"Kore Regni"

The two litters were tied together by more than the young boy knew. It was more than blood. His half siblings... they were more than that. Ten children brought up in this world without their mothers. All ten of them would be Valen's problem. Problem. As time went on, it was likely that Ivy would be a problem. There would be some time before his sense of self preservation kicked in. There would be more time than that before he realized his differences, and the fact that he couldn't always keep up in a fight with his larger siblings. Even more time before he realized that the loss of his mother turned him into a creature hewn by bitterness and pain. Right. The little wolf had all the time in the world, be it for the better or for the worst.

He could only hope that it was for the better. It should be, right? He allows himself to be absorbed in his mother's song, allowing it to bring the comfort and closeness to her that he craved. The things that keep him up at night, they're not... they're not great. Hell, positive feelings aren't the ones that will keep sleep at bay. At least Ivy can feel the warmth that her lullaby brings, the way it spreads in his chest. Though he hears the question in the darkness, Ivy doesn't stop his song in the middle. He can't. He was almost done anyway. Still, he had to keep the waver from his voice as he finished the last verse, knowing he had an audience now. Why was this so much harder when he knew someone was watching?

As the lullaby faded into silence, Ivy caught his breath. Right, there was that question he should probably answer. "Ivy." There was no question of getting into trouble... it had to have been another kid asking, and they were out past their bedtime too, so it wasn't like they had some high horse to yell at him and tell him to go to bed. Well... had he woken someone up? Whatever man. Ivy doesn't want to be hostile though, because maybe it was someone like him. Maybe it was someone sorta sad, who couldn't sleep. "Who's askin'?"

"Speech"

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2022

"Kore Regni"
The galaxy-clad pup listens to the song, sorrow settling in his heart for some unknown reason. It seems that song carries a longing for something that will again happen. That someone this singer cares about will never be seen again. For Kore, who has no concept of what death truly is, the boy cannot fathom why they are not coming home. In his young mind, when he heard that his mother wasn’t ever coming home, the pup had taken that to mean his mother is out in the world alone. Perhaps, she is scared or maybe he did something to make her angry but, in the purple boy’s mind, she is still alive. For the first time, Kore feels that someone outside his siblings understands the unspoken pain he feels. Everything that rests inside the pup seems to be woven into each note and the galaxy-hued boy cannot help but be transfixed by the late-night song.

The voice wavers once he asks who sings and Kore suddenly feels like an intruder, realization striking him that he may have stumbled onto someone’s private moment. Guilt almost has the galaxy- hued boy turning to leave but the song keeps him rooted. When the lullaby is complete, the last night fading away, Kore find himself wishing that it would continue on forever. Ivy gives his name and the purple pup nods to himself, linking the name with the ice-kissed form he has seen. Then, the pup asks for his name and the galaxy hued pup moves forward in the grass, allowing his nebula pelt come into view and says, “It’s Kore.” He has met the other pups several times but the purple boy has not gotten the opportunity to get to know them each individually.

Bright blue eyes meet Ivy’s icy gaze and Kore offers the boy a small smile and Kore whispers softly so that the pup can hear him but his voice will not disturb the others in the den, “I was out watching the moon. The night is full of beautiful things. Want to come and see?” Sure, the pups are supposed to be asleep and yeah, they aren’t supposed to leave their dens but the world is so different once the sun goes to bed.

In time, they would know. In time, they would feel. In time, they would understand the gravity of what had really transpired leading up to and shortly following their birth. Ivy would be bitter then, but not now. For now he is simply a sad boy, sitting out in the dark, wrapped in the comfort of his mother's song. The songs were among what remained of his mother, and Ivy would guard them fiercely, with his whole heart. There wouldn't be any forgetting. There couldn't be any forgetting.

The voice came-- one of his half siblings. One of his half brothers. The concept of half anything didn't really make sense... they were brothers, but not. Ivy decided (pretty much decided then and there, honestly) that half brothers were as good as regular brothers, and he'd drop the whole "half" thing entirely. No, they would be just brothers, as far as he could tell. Well... maybe? Was that an alright thing to just assume? Maybe he'd ask Kore. Whatever, though. Just brothers (and sisters, for that matter) weren't anywhere near as good as twin brothers, and that much he was entirely, one hundred percent sure of. If there was going to need to be any sort of line drawn (a lightly sketched, dotted line), it would be with him and Lo on one side, and everyone else on the other. It wasn't that they were any less important, just that Lotus was more. At least it made sense in Ivy's head.

Kore's whisper reached the boy, and he nodded. He was already awake, so why not. He moved from the den on quiet paws, looking from his brother to the sky itself. "Woah, the moon looks really... close." Was close the right word, the word that he wanted? Not necessarily. But it was good enough, Ivy decided. It looked closer than usual, full and bright where it hung in the sky. Things were different in the dark, but in the quiet night within fireside, they were safe.
"Words"

Bright blue eyes watch the ice-hued form of his brother as the purple waits to see if he will get show his sibling the wonders the night holds. Quietly Ivy moves forward, coming to stand next to the purple pup while speaking of the moon being close. Kore offers his brother a warm smile, dipping his head in agreement and says, “Every night it seems to get bigger. I have a special spot to watch it from. Want to see?” Turning away from the den, Kore starts to lead Ivy further from the den. Moving silently through the grass, the galaxy-clad pup looks to his icy-hued sibling and says, “There are so many different things to hear as well. Just wait.”

Flashing Ivy a smile, Kore leads his brother to a well-worn spot in the grass atop a knoll. He stops in the middle of the small circle and motions for the ice-kissed sibling to sit with him. Once Ivy is settled, they purple boy tilts his head back to look up the moon. With his eyes on the celestial body, Kore whispers softly, “Now… listen.” For a moment the night is still as the creatures that inhabit this area silently decide if the pups are a threat. A moment passes and then, the symphony begins. Softly, the crickets start singing their songs, their confidence slowly building as the minutes pass. A high-pitched squeaking sound is heard as a swarm of bats move across the starry sky.

Even in the air, the bats appear to dancing. Instead of flying in a straight line, they fly forward and circle, then dip down and turn. They move in time to some strange music that only they can hear. Grass rustles near the pups and a flash of grey coat can be seen as a mouse scurries by. On silent wings, death appears. A barn owl swoops down, opening its sharp talons to pluck the small creature from the earth before disappearing back into the darkness of night, all without making a sound. From the nearby river, frogs croak and call, letting the world know they are there, adding yet another layer to the nightly orchestra. In a clearing, not far from the pups, a raccoon moves into view, standing to look at the brothers, nose twitching and whiskers moving. After a moment, the raccoon moves on, in search of more crickets to stuff its belly with.

Kore sits with a smile on lips as he continues to watch the moon. Since he could leave the den, the galaxy clad pup has watched this scene play out night after night. Sure, the moves can be different, the songs change but the cast of characters always remains the same. Turning his bright gaze to his brother, the galaxy pup asks, “What do you think? Cool... right?” His smile widens with happiness at being able to share this place with his sibling.


"Kore Regni"

Carefully, quietly, he pads after his brother. Slipping farther away from the den and into the night was exciting, and really, something he hadn't thought to do before. It wasn't like there was a rule that they stayed inside just... that's what they did. Maybe it wasn't so bad to do something else. If anyone tried to say anything, Ivy figured he'd just blame Kore... seemed legit. There was no real controlling his curiosity anyway.

Wordlessly, he joined the boy at the top of the hill. It really was quite the spot. Listen, Kore instructed, and listen he did. For a moment, it was only the throb of his heart within his chest. Then it was more. The high pitched calls of the bats, echoing off of the trees and each other. Overhead they seemed to move with both a frantic nature and a certain grace... a conundrum at work. The owl and the mouse, a predator that worked in ways that Ivy knew not, but was impressed by none the less. It was breathtaking, really. Imagine hunting in the same way. To be that elegant, that graceful, and that deadly-- all at the same time? The notion made the boy's head spin. How wonderful. Ivy watches the bird of prey until it fades from view, into the inky dark night.

The raccoon, too, catches his eye. The boy giggles softly as it makes eye contact with them, whiskers twitching. If the small bandit was the only one to catch the boys out here tonight, that would be ideal. Still, it's almost... almost nice to be seen. A friend. He could think, at least, a friend. It's hard to know what is and isn't a friend at this point. Just as the others did, the little bandit disappears into the night. Would they disappear too, where they sat?

"Very cool," Ivy confirms, voice soft. He takes in a long, deep breath of crisp night air. From somewhere far off to the south, thunder rumbles. It's hard to not be enchanted by it. "Why are there so many stars?" Ivy didn't necessarily expect his brother to have the answers. Still, it felt better to have someone to speculate with.

"Speech"

As the galaxy hued pup turns to lead the way, he glances back to his brother, hoping Ivy will follow him to see the splendors of the night. Kore is not disappointed as his ice-kissed brother follows along on silent paws, the two pups quickly making their way to the knoll. Shortly they arrive at the destination and they take a seat as the play begins. A small smile rests on the nebula boy’s lips as he steals glances at his sibling, enjoying the night through his eyes. It feels like the first night he had spent out here under the moon, everything so new and exciting that it made his head swim as his eyes tried to follow it all. When the raccoon catches Ivy’s attention, Kore looks over at the creature, giggle along with his brother as it wiggles its whiskers at them.

Ivy speaks in a soft voice and Kore’s smile grows even more, his curious brother’s question about the stars making the nebula pup think for a moment. Purple head looks up at the starry sky and tilts to the side as the pup contemplates his answer. Truthfully, Kore has no clue why there are so many but that fact does not keep the boy from speculating. Softly, he says, “I don’t know Ivy. Maybe there is one for every wolf that has ever lived and will live. Or maybe there are so many because it makes the moon seem bigger.” Head tilts back up straight as cyan eyes turn to his ice-cloaked brother and he asks, “What do you think?” Bright eyes shine in the night as the brothers share a special moment of bonding.

"Kore Regni"

Ivy decides that he quite likes raccoons. If that's the only thing that comes out of this night, then it's more than enough. He's comfortable by his brother's side, and he figures that even more will probably come from it. Even more... even more. Their world was so big, and they were so small. Ivy thinks of his mother's songs once more, the words that he can't remember all the meanings to. Sure, he understands the gist, he understands the tales, but it would be a long time before he's able to speak to someone who understands what each phrase means... not that Ivy knows that yet. Not that he understands what's about to happen, and how their young lives are about to change. Oh child, if only you knew.

The boy flopped softly over onto his side, gazing at the sky as it spread above them. It seemed to go on, and on, and on-- nearly forever. It was pretty. There was so much of it. The dome of the sky can do a lot to make someone feel small. There was gravity to the smallness too, and the way that the universe seemed to offer them... offer them everything. Though it was all theirs for the taking, Ivy resolves right here (right here, right now), to take no more of it than what he needs. He's not the only one out here. His brother isn't the only one. His siblings... his family... there are more than just them. There were so many thoughts in his head.

Kore shares his theory. Every wolf that has ever lived, every will live... that was a pretty thought. Or maybe, maybe because it makes the moon seem bigger. That seemed like a more practical thought. Thoughts. Maybe that was it? "Maybe there's one for every good idea that someone has," Ivy considers. "Like, today there were lots of good ideas," the boy thinks aloud. "And on the nights where there are less stars, those are the days when there were less good ideas." It seemed to make sense to him, at least. There were some days when they could see hardly any stars at all. Ivy hadn't really thought of the clouds being in the way, so for now, it seemed plausible.

"Words"