Rhyme’s pale paws carried him over the borders of Abaven, his morning patrol finishing with no excitement to report. He couldn’t complain about the quiet, but he hadn’t felt at ease since before Epitaph had appeared at their border. He felt better without having Vlad to look after, but he knew the next wave would be right around the corner. Unless they struck first. Valentine would be calling the seven nation army together any day now, and he felt ready to be rid of the threat.

He also knew that he could likely not return from the war. Nothing was certain in life or battle, he’d seen too many experienced fighters go down when they thought they would continue on. He tried to accept those facts, and had spent as much time with his young children as possible. They were growing just as fast as he as warned they would. As soon as they left the den for the first time it seemed like they were well on their way to adulthood. Their innocence still remained, but he could see how quickly they might lose that quality.

Already he worried about Noir, while at first he was sure the boy just needed attention it seemed more… he couldn’t find the right words for it. Like he needed to be the center of attention. He was pushy, and didn’t balk at running over his sisters for that goal.

Poem was blossoming into a beautiful young lady, though she was head strong at times. She seemed to have inherited the stubborn gene, and he could only guess at the trouble she would get herself and her siblings into. Motif didn’t hesitate in following her lead either. He made note to keep an eye on both of them just in case.

Rhyme smiled as his thoughts lingered on his kids. They were barely out of the den but he couldn’t have been more proud. He still felt his heart ache for Darilnor, and he wondered who the tiny pup might have become if he’d survived birth. The slate alpha grit his teeth as the familiar pain washed over him and he found himself stopping near the boy’s grave. Snow covered the tomb, but the sharpened antler he’d placed there marked it well. In the spring the bits of plant Tana had placed with him would bloom and further mark his presence. Rhyme lowered his head as he mourned silently over the much too small grave and sighed softly while thoughts of what might have been swirled in his mind.

""

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME He limped along with tattered auds tipped back towards his skull, but not flattened. His dark tail curled loosely between his legs instead of tightly to his belly. Miss Shaye had birthed some wonderful girls, and he was reluctant to abandon them. Even for a few moments. Sure, Miss Shaye was with them, and a wonderful mother, but he worried for all three. There was something.. strange about the relationship between the alpha pair and their offspring. It was strained, tenuous and new. Thus, he kept as close to the den as possible while the children were still whelping. He was eager to help, and eager to please. A perfect little servant. With snow dusting the ground, he felt the need to collect food and furs. Warm the mother, warm the young. Perhaps, if he remembered, warm himself. He spotted the titanic form of Rhyme just ahead, looming over a sharpened deer antler. Odd. Reluctantly, the male slunk forward. His demeanour shifted, and he morphed into a more timid creature. He peered around the massive male, wondering what might be so important. The smell of rot lingered, ever so faintly. The musty aroma of loam, recently overturned. Silence reigned, the male struggled still to speak without being addressed first. One cautious step forward, so that his shoulder nearly brushed against Rhyme's left thigh, and he kept his head low between his shoulders in a submissive stance. "speech"

Only the subtle crunch of snow alerted Rhyme to his half-brother’s presence. The slate male might not have turned around he was so engrossed in his thoughts. Darilnor dominated them, though he tried hard to focus on his living pups and the futures they might find. The alpha turned his somber features towards Epitaph as the younger man halted close behind. The former slave had been invaluable in help with the two girls. Poem and Motif seemed to adore him, and Rhyme couldn’t help but feel the dark furred man loved them as well.


"Epitaph," he greeted softly. His voice distant but with a hint of warmth he felt for the scarred wolf. "How are the girls today?" He assumed that the younger man wouldn’t withhold pertinent information from him. Had there been an emergency he would already know about it. Though he wondered absently if Epitaph needed something from him, he doubted the young once slave would have the courage to ask outright. He was doing well in Abaven, but he hadn’t gotten to that point yet.

""

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME Rhyme turned to face him, and greeted him warmly. It still felt strange to hear his name spoken aloud, sometimes. He was used to much harsher titles being flung at him. "How are the girls today?" the male questioned softly, without rising from where he sat. "Fine," he assured Rhyme. Slowly, the waif skirted around his flank to sit at his left thigh. There was a respectful distance left between them. "they're sleeping now." he added. His voice still rasped in his throat, something that may never fade. Thin banner swept across the thin layer of snow to wrap loosely around his paws. "They're getting very curious, and wondering what's outside." the words slipped out softly, but with a tiny smile accompanying them. The twin girls were delightful, and he hadn't been around children too much in his past. He glanced over at the larger male, verdant gaze then flicking over to the antler that lay on the ground. "What are you doing out here?" he questioned hesitantly, tattered auds flickering back and forth hesitantly. "speech"

Epitaph was quick to answer him with a one worded answer at first, with the early morning it didn’t surprise him with the follow up that they were still sleeping. He watched the former slave from the corner of his eye as the man came to sit more near to him. Rhyme didn’t miss how rough the dark man’s voice still remained, and he wondered if it would ever heal. The rest of him seemed to be doing well, especially his spirit.

He described how ready they were to see the outside world. Both girls had a curiosity that couldn’t be satisfied. Though Rhyme wouldn’t have it any other way. They were going to grow up to be brilliant young ladies. The thought almost brought a smile to his somber features, but Epitaph was quick to add a question of his own. Proof of his continued healing.

Rhyme felt his head hang a little lower at the words, his gaze finding the antler as his focus once more as he sighed softly. The pain felt obvious as it rolled off his shoulders in waves. "Grieving." He answered quietly, his eyes stinging as images of Tana giving birth resurfaced. "We never announced the loss," he began, feeling like Epitaph deserved an explanation. "Tana and I lost one of our pups, and we laid him here." He hadn’t even shown Shaye the too tiny grave, the experience made him feel closer to Epitaph though. Simply mentioning the place made him feel slightly more at ease, though the pain was no easier.

""

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME Rhyme seemed to shrink into himself at the question, and was silent for a moment. "Grieving." he mumbled simply, and the wisp frowned. His auds tipped back and his brows furrowed with concern. Who was he grieving? The longer he peered up at the larger male, the more concerned he became. His eyes appeared glassy. Something must be seriously wrong. "We never announced the loss," he continued softly, and Epitaph remained silent. He was patient, so he would wait for Rhyme to finish in his own time. "Tana and I lost one of our pups, and we laid him here." he finally said, quiet as a whisper. A soft whine pulled from the dark male's throat, sympathetic but unable to truly comprehend that kind of loss. Dimly, at the back of his mind, he was surprised to learn that Rhyme was the father of another woman's children. The tiny woman he'd first met upon arriving here, no less. "I'm sorry," he rasped, leaning ever so slightly closer to the behemoth. His shoulder barely brushed against his flank, but it was the best he could do. "He's in a better place." he offered hesitantly, gaze dropping to the antler that lay on the ground ahead. In his past, he'd been well acquainted with death. Pups often died among the slavers, who only cultivated the strongest of youngsters. However, this didn't seem like the kind of place where they wantonly let pups die. When they did, there was real emotion around it, and mourning. "speech"

Rhyme’s ears pressed further into his skull as he winced at Epitaph’s sympathetic whine. Rhyme knew how much he cared about Poem and Motif, they lived in such proximity he was often a default caretaker. He wondered if his potential half-brother had even met the other three surviving pups. He gave voice to those same condolences, and Rhyme felt him lean in just a little bit closer. The slate alpha sighed softly, musing quietly as Epitaph offered what comfort he could with only words and his thin frame.

”It’s hard, not being able to watch him grow up.” He muttered as his paw swept over the grave in an affectionate gesture. Death was very much a part of life, but Rhyme had never been very good at dealing with the loss when it was someone he cared about. Especially this deep loss of his own legacy.

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME The soft sigh didn't bode well. A sign that he was still very much distressed. That was valid, in Epitaph's eyes. He'd been through much, and sometimes it was difficult to let go of trauma. ”It’s hard, not being able to watch him grow up.” The words were accompanied by the tender brushing of a massive, pale paw across the overturned soil. It had hardened with the frost long ago, but a few loose grains of soil tumbled away with the motion. The dark wisp hummed softly in agreement. Yes, he'd seen pups die. No one ever truly recovered from it. "Someday, it might be.." he hesitated. Did Rhyme really care what he thought? A battered and torn slave, with no children of his own. What did he know? He fought against the clenching in his throat, instinctively silencing him for fear of retaliation. "easier. To carry the burden." he finished the sentence softly, gaze distant. The weight of his own suffering was still suffocating, crushing him slowly under its bulk. It was less than when he had still been with the clan, than when he had first turned up at Abaven- starved and half dead. "It doesn't do well to dwell on the past, it'll swallow you whole." he added with a soft frown, torn muzzle twisting into a grimace only briefly. Yes, it had nearly swallowed him. "You have many children who need your love," he offered. "I'm sure this little one would want you to impart all that you've reserved for him onto the others instead." "speech"

There wasn’t much anyone could do for the slate titan, words were worth only so much. Affection was a comfort, but it didn’t come any closer to returning the dead to life. There was nothing to be done, they’d done everything possible the day he had been born. He was never meant to be. Though the fact was the truth Rhyme still struggled to come to terms. Epitaph did what he could though.

The former slave offered his own quiet words of comfort. Maybe someday he would be able to more easily carry the sense of loss that iked to hang about him. Time heals all wounds, but he’d never be able to forget the tiny hole the pup had left in his heart. Rhyme looked over to the forest eyed wolf, his gaze distant as he spoke from personal experience how hard the task was. How easy it was to be swallowed. If Rhyme didn’t have his surviving offspring how easy would it have been to start drinking and never stop?

Epitaph’s feeling were ill concealed as Rhyme shifted his gaze over to the man that could have been his half brother. ”Sometimes I wish I could be swallowed.” To give up the responsibilities that hung over his shoulders like a mantle. To forget about the sorrows that lingered in this life. ”But I do have children, who need a functioning father.” What good would he do them passed out drunk most days? ”I love them too much to fall.” He put his paw back onto the grave as he pushed gently against the thin framed man affectionately. A silent promise left him, vowing that he would do everything he could to pave the way for a bright future for them.

THEY’RE TRYIN’ TO KEEP HEAVENS GATES OPEN LATE FOR ME Though he was struggling to impart some sort of wisdom, kind words with which to soothe the torn heart of the larger male, Epitaph was failing. Despite his attempt at helpfulness, Rhyme dejectedly uttered ”Sometimes I wish I could be swallowed.” To which, the slender male could only sigh softly, snout dipping in a solemn nod. ”But I do have children, who need a functioning father.” he admitted. This was true, poor Poem and Motif (and surely the other mysterious pups) would be devastated without the love and guidance of their father. Regardless of how strenuous their relationship with their parents, the girls would thrive all the more with both of them to rely on. ”I love them too much to fall.” Rhyme leaned his weight lightly into the wisps own lean body, and the dark male welcomed the affection. His gaze drifted to the other male's outstretched paw, placed upon the grave. "Tell me about your other children, Rhyme. I didn't know of them until now, I'd like to hear about them." he rasped, letting the comfortable warmth of the titan's form seep into his aching joints. It would be nice to see fresh faces, if he ran into the little ones at some point. Better still to know their names, and what they looked like. "speech"

There was nothing that Epitaph could say to Rhyme that would help relieve the pain of loss, but the slate alpha appreciated the effort. He gave the man he thought his brother ginger affection, which was well received. He tried to relax and let his heart heal, but more time had to pass for that. Epitaph had another quest to lift Rhyme from his mourning. The only topic that could even shed light on the darkness that threatened to engulf him.

Epitaph’s request did manage to pull the corners of his lips into the hint of a smile. His blue and lavender gaze might have lingered on the grave but his eyes were far off, seeing nothing but the children Taphy asked about.

”Noir is the oldest, and the biggest. He has a dark base coat but brilliant blue stripes all down him. Even more blue than my own fur.” He tried to further distance himself from thoughts of his true first born. ”Theory is my happy bob-tailed girl. She’s got a dark coat with while points. All of them share my eye markings. And Verse, I don’t think she will be any bigger than her mother, also with a bob-tail and has albinistic traits. She’s the one I worry for the most. With their mother having made herself scarce..” He hated thinking about Tana as well. She was the epitome of his greatest failure. He’d broken all of his promises to her, and he couldn’t change that.

Epitaph The traces of a smile showed in the softening of Rhyme's features, and the male didn't wait long before the larger man began to regale him with his three other offspring. ”Noir is the oldest, and the biggest. He has a dark base coat but brilliant blue stripes all down him. Even more blue than my own fur.” he began, and the wisp hummed appreciatively. Noir sounded like a promising young man, sure to be eye catching as he grew. ”Theory is my happy bob-tailed girl. She’s got a dark coat with while points. All of them share my eye markings. And Verse, I don’t think she will be any bigger than her mother, also with a bob-tail and has albinistic traits. She’s the one I worry for the most. With their mother having made herself scarce..” Epitaph frowned lightly. That didn't sound good. It seemed that the alpha secondary was having quite a bit of trouble with women, despite the luck he'd had (for the most part) with his children. A soft, encouraging hum climbed up his throat. He leaned a little further into the larger male, only for a brief moment. "Things will work out, I'm sure. I know a thing or two about being a sickly child," he rasped. An attempt at humour? A poor one. "I would be glad to take a look at Verse, if you need me to." he offered cautiously. Perhaps that would ease some of the stress that rested upon Rhyme's shoulders, even as small a gesture as it was. "Speech"

Epitaph turned out to be an excellent listener, his mismatched ears and curious forest green gaze. He took in everything Rhyme had to say about his three other children. The former slave wore his emotions freely, and frowned as Rhyme gave him his worries about Verse. Epitaph seemed to ponder for a moment as he offered a bit of comforting affection. ”Things will work out…” Rhyme even managed a smile as Epitaph made a poor joke. The slate alpha shook his head. Epitaph offered to meet up with his tiny daughter.

”I think she would like that. As would I.” He answered the midnight sliph as he sighed softly into the night. ”They’re so young. It’s not fair they have to learn the cruelties of the world. Especially from their own mother.” The thought hurt, that Tana would so easily disappear from her children’s lives.