Epitaph ooc. timed to after the garden thread with motif, probably shy of a week after the fire? With a rabbit clenched firmly (perhaps a little too firmly) in his jaws, the delicate male ventured past the carnage of the fire into the far edges of the Thicket. There was supposed to be a lion around here somewhere, and he was intent on repairing the relationship he may have destroyed before it could be formed. He had been foolish to accuse the lion of kidnapping during the fire, and regret weighed like a stone in his gut. Thus, he entered the feline's domain with a peace offering. Perhaps he could apologize, and offer what little assistance he could with the remaining herbs in the pack's stores. No doubt the lion had seen some damage from the flames, as the rest of them had. Short, halting steps brought him further into the foliage. His sense of smell was dulled by the hare in his mouth, but he was slowly picking his way along a fresh scent trail. No doubt he would locate the feline eventually. Perhaps, even, she might stumble upon him first. In the back of his mind, he worried his earlier offense might have been enough to be putting him in danger as he moved through the territory that held the lion. He pushed the thought away as anxiety bloomed like a thistle in his ribcage. "Speech"

Cannival Dark form of the soot-stained lioness lay curled inside a charred patch of thicket where she had made her home weeks prior. The shrubbery in which she had denned had been burned to the ground, leaving only remnants of ash and lumps of broken foliage behind. The way the Cannival saw it, she was still on probation. Whether the Rustling Thicket had burned down or not, this was where she was told to stay until the wolves could accept her. So far, they hadn't. A quiet puff of black lips summed up her thoughts on the matter. Left ear flicked lazily as the sharp snap of a fire-hollowed twig broke the silence. Whatever was approaching, Cannival was unconcerned. They wolves here had made it very clear that they didn't take well to outsiders, and the lioness was more then convinced that if a stranger had made it past the borders that the pack's warriors would have intercepted it long before it reached this deep into the territory. "They're good at their job." She thought bitterly. Epitaph's approach did nothing to stir the lioness, her eyes rolled skyward away from him and she found her voice to throw his direction. "Motif is not here." "You.""Think.""Speech"

Epitaph Slow, halting strides brought the male further and further into the remnants of the Thicket. It wasn't long before he was met with a voice whose source was camouflaged perfectly amongst the scorched earth. Verdant gaze swept across the foliage until the flash of amber eyes brought the immense feline to his attention. Tattered auds tipped back against his skull, submissive to the superior force before him. He forced his jaws to relax, to drop the hare to the ground before his paws. His tongue seemed to scrape like sandpaper over the damp, cooled fur as it slipped from his maw. His muscles quivered with tension. A ragged cough to clear his throat. "No, I believe she's out with Poem or her mother." he replied softly, unaware that he was being met with sarcasm or rebuttal. "I came looking for you, to apologize." he continued, vocals no more than a persistent rasp. Again, he plucked up the hare. More gently this time, by one of its thick hind legs. He took a few cautious steps closer, not eager to intrude more than he might be allowed into the lion's presence. His tucked tail dared to wag anxiously, its tip worrying at the soft fur of his underbelly. The dark wisp dropped the hare less than a foot from the lion's paws, and retreated a few steps back. "I should not have made assumptions, during the fire." he began hoarsely, emerald gaze fixing itself upon his dark toes. "It was wrong, and it caused undue stress to both you and Motif." Ebon cranium dipped between his shoulders, which rolled forward in anticipation of a blow from the massive creature. "Please forgive me, Miss Cannival." he rasped hesitantly, knowing it was well within her rights to seek her retribution upon his hide. "Speech"

Cannival As the male gave to Cannival his timid apology, the lioness allowed her head to lift from her paws to face him fully. Her gaze met his, studying his expression carefully to root out any falseness buried within. Had Shaye sent him? Or Rhyme? Eyelids twitched and narrowed in a slightly inquisitive squint. The scrawny male stepped towards her once more, his posturing becoming so very submissive and scared that it hurt Cannival deeply to watch. He was missing part of an ear, his leg all but was dragged behind him as he walked. There was hardly a part of his too-thin body that was not scarred, or scarred on top of scars. Her own ears pressed hard against her skull, and she forced her eyes to soften as he drew the courage to place the gift before her. "Thank you." The lioness pulled herself to a stand, leaning heavily upon her right foreleg as she did so. Cannival felt more sad and betrayed and broken then she had since losing her cubs, though she looked upon this wolf who made Abaven his home after a life so difficult that she couldn't even begin to imagine. This male knew true pain and loss and heartbreak, surely. To see him this way made Cannival hate herself for not only how much easier her life had been, but also for how much resentment she still felt towards him. "Why do you cower before me?" She couldn't keep the self-loathing from tainting her words, and she reached forward with her left leg to gingerly scoop the hare towards her. She flinched and grimaced as the motion pulled her left shoulder backwards, feeling a jab of pain radiate down the entirety of her bone. Her eyes shut hard, and she blocked out the pain to allow herself to continue. "I am a lion, yes, but I don't mean harm to any of you." Soft voice shook with conviction as she felt a wave of emotion catch in her throat. Cannival's thoughts moved to Motif- as they had often since the fire -and how disappointed the little pup would be if she saw her uncle cowering before her self-proclaimed best friend. Maybe a lion wasn't the kind of friend a wolf pup should have, especially if said cat could cause so much pain. "You.""Think.""Speech"

Epitaph A gentle breeze pushed through the Thicket, stirring the charred foliage and teasing a few strands of dark fur along his spine. Rich, rumbling vocals slipped into the forefront of his mind. "Thank you." the lioness uttered, and he could hear the shifting of the foliage around her as she moved. Perhaps she was moving closer to strike, as he anticipated. Verdant eyes squeezed shut in preparation for the first blow to fall. Would it be a blunt impact, a mere backhand by the massive beast? Or would she elect to rake those immense claws across his frail body? He didn't dare look up, not yet. His back hunched up instinctively, trying to seem small and unassuming. Though, he supposed, compared to her he was no more than a flea upon the dirt. Easy to crush. But no blow fell from the feline. Instead, "Why do you cower before me?" she questioned harshly, and the quiet shushhh of the hare carcass sliding through the dirt receded from his attention. The trembling in his thin limbs stilled momentarily as the question was met with no immediate response forming in his mind. How would he explain that he still saw them all as his masters? His tail resumed its hesitant worrying against his belly, a shiver rolling down his spine. "I am a lion, yes, but I don't mean harm to any of you." there was a roughness to her voice within the last few syllables, and were he thinking more clearly, he might have recognized it as strain. Slowly, he dared lift his gaze towards her broad paws. The fur across her toes was short, dense. Soft, even? More so than his own, surely. Like the little tufts behind Poem's ears that she couldn't reach to clean properly, perhaps. "I cower before everyone, Miss Cannival." he said simply. His gaze was a little distant as it traced the fine bones of her forepaws. "It is the way a slave should be." he added, by way of explanation. He still saw himself as that broken, battered little boy being assaulted every night by his masters. It wasn't something he could reconcile with who he was becoming. Not yet. "Speech"

Cannival The lioness observed with carefully contained sadness as the male studied her paws. Flowing from the wolf was a certain air of.. not fear, but anticipation. She could taste it. Trepidation. As if he waited to be punished, but with no intent to duck from or return the blow. There was nothing left to this wolf, he was merely an empty husk. Cannival didn't know what had happened to him, but she was very mindful of how she might further break him if she acted or spoke poorly. He then called himself that word... and suddenly it all made sense. She closed the distance between them with small, slow strides. Bracing herself upon her good leg, she lifted her left paw from her side to gently place under the wolf's muzzle- glad that felines possessed such flexibility in their limbs -and applied pressure upwards to force him to meet her gaze. Warm, golden eyes bore deeply into his own as she tried hard to convey the multitude of emotions she felt at seeing the broken male cower before her. "I am a slave to my species, and in this I feel your pain." Her voice crossed the gap towards him with as much warmth as she could muster, though there was a measure of hardness within her words. "We cannot dwell on this, our fear. Motif looks up to you- she loves you so much." Mentioning the pup, Cannival's heart clenched within her chest. "You are her uncle. She may accept you and love you even as broken as you are, but you are obligated to be the role model she needs." She searched his gaze for any sign of understanding, and if he were to try in small motions to pull away she would do her best to continue to force the eye contact without doing him harm. This was necessary, she had to know that she had done everything she could. "Think to yourself how you would feel if she stood before you the way you are before me. If she were to see herself the way you see yourself. Think on it hard, because I guarantee you she will find conflict in life someday... and she needs someone to take strength from." The pain in her injured leg became too much, and Cannival dropped it from beneath the wolf's chin. Whether he'd take the opportunity to once again duck his gaze from her own, the lioness wasn't sure. She could only hope that he'd take the word of a stranger who loved Motif fiercely and work to better himself- if only for his niece. "You.""Think.""Speech"

Epitaph Whump, whump, whump, the fall of heavy paws upon the earth, closer and closer. Those two massive forepaws were practically toe to toe with his own, and he felt impossibly small. He watched one rise from the ground, slow and calculated. His eyes screwed shut again, anticipating the coming strike. Instead, a gentle pressure under his jaw, tilting his chin upwards. He couldn't open his eyes yet. He wasn't sure what to do. Tattered auds pressed tightly to his skull, scared and confused. "I am a slave to my species, and in this I feel your pain." the words were muffled at first, until he broke the seal of his ears against his skull. The fear that was clenching his gut so tightly he scarcely felt able to breathe around it loosened its grip. Verdant gaze fluttered open to find a pair of amber eyes boring into his features. "We cannot dwell on this, our fear. Motif looks up to you- she loves you so much." the lion spoke the words so gravely. He knew this to be true, but hadn't been able to admit it to himself. In the eyes of his nieces, he was more than a slave. There was something in him that they could look up to, though he couldn't see it yet. The feline's grip felt confining. He was being forced to listen, and it would begin to wear on him all too soon. Already his heart was beginning to pound again, but he held his nerve. She was making a point that his subconscious had been failing to convey. The young child who had never known pain and been loved by his mother had been trying to remind him of the truth all these years. "You are her uncle. She may accept you and love you even as broken as you are, but you are obligated to be the role model she needs." She was right. He was failing in his role as a caregiver to the girls. He needed to be strong for them. He needed to be better, for their sake. But he was feeling his mind go fuzzy, with his jaw captured the way it was. The very act of coming out here had been so much for him already. "Think to yourself how you would feel if she stood before you the way you are before me. If she were to see herself the way you see yourself. Think on it hard, because I guarantee you she will find conflict in life someday... and she needs someone to take strength from." the lioness spoke her piece, and released his jaw from her grasp. Emerald eyes tracked the movement unthinkingly, always aware of those around them. As the large paw returned to the ground, he noticed that her stance favoured that leg more than the rest. She must have been injured during the fire, possibly even by his own actions? "Let me get you something to treat the damage to your leg." he rasped. "Did you cut it? Or twist it." he questioned, attention shifted from their conversation to his duties as Baldrian. "Speech"

Cannival Cannival could not tell if her words hit their mark and she desperately hoped that she had not been too hard on him. His eyes were clenched shut when she began her speech, though when they opened they were still so laden with fear that she felt suddenly monstrous before him. He seemed to be listening however, and so hopefully it hadn't all been for naught. She tried to push back the emotions welling up within her, and how very torn she felt to be speaking so harshly to such a broken stranger. When she finished and dropped his head, his eyes fell very suddenly back downcast and Cannival felt a sigh tear from between blackened lips. "Let me get you something to treat the damage to your leg. Did you cut it? Or twist it." The male changed the subject then, and Cannival suddenly felt her confidence wither away beneath his inspection. The lioness stamped her paw onto the ground hurriedly- perhaps too hard, as she immediately lifted it again -and moved a few quickened steps backwards. "No.. I don't know. I jumped out of a tree. It's fine, really." She felt heat creep into her face, and looked down at the ground in overwhelming shame. This wolf was a healer, and here she was claiming his time to lecture him on self-esteem when his pack needed him. "There were so many wolves injured in the fire, please, save your stores for them." Her voice grew very quiet as she finished. "I don't belong here." "You.""Think.""Speech"