to grow up or nah

Jupiter lay stretched out on his belly with a deer hide flopped over one paw. He was working on a project for Alfrun. It was another attempt at a peace offering. He hadn't - as far as he was aware - done anything that required a peace offering, but it didn't hurt to preemptively get one ready. Sooner or later he was going to need it lest she curse him with something unsavory or murder him in his sleep. He wasn't sure if either of those things were a real possibility but he suspected they were. Okay, okay, perhaps a little guilt was also fueling this crafting craze. He knew what he was like and he knew he wasn't easy in the ways that mattered.

As he worked Jupiter mulled over everything that had happened recently. It was weird to think of how much had changed in a few short seasons. The biggest, obviously, was the whole marriage thing. If he'd been asked last year if he was ever going to settle down Jupiter would have laughed like that was the funniest shit he'd ever heard. Him? Married? That was a laugh. It combined two of the things he hated most. Commitment. And marriage.

So here he was, married. To a witch of all things. He couldn't recall Alfrun ever using that word specifically but if it quacks like a duck blah, blah, blah... He was dealing with a duck. Vikings, witches, and goat ropers. Fireside was a stranger mix now than he would have ever would have guessed when he learned Tyrian was taking over. Honestly, since his uncle had been so young he'd expected the pack to take on more of a fraternity feel for awhile. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little disappointed even though the way it was now was definitely better for everyone involved. Still, it would have been fun for him, at least. If he wasn't such a flake Jupiter would have been tempted to make his own band and shit. Set things up the way he liked it. But nah, that sounded like too much work. He was struggling to coordinate life with one wolf. Several would just eat into his peace of mind.

...unless he did a free love, no expectations sort of deal. Like the beach party except with loose connections. Maybe that was something he could get behind.

Wait, no, Jupiter shook his head in a self-chastising sort of way. He was already married and though he'd never dared to mention any sort of extramarital anything he got the feeling Alfrun was at least fairly traditional and likely to frown on anything that deviated from "the norm." He could be wrong - he would be happy to be wrong - but he was smart enough to know better than to look for an answer to that question for another couple of seasons at least. He needed to get to know her better in general, honestly. Living with her was like denning with a stranger and while he was still pissed about the arrangement, if he was stuck with it the least he could do was try to make it better, right?

Jupiter grabbed the hide in his mouth and started to work the stiff leather with his teeth. He was going to be here awhile. Eventually, if he got the hide just right, he was thinking about trying to turn it into a satchel or something. Alfrun was small and delicate, and his reasoning was that she might appreciate something that would make carrying her things easier. He had no idea what kind of things a witch would tote around, but surely she had something she would like to have on her person. A small companion, maybe. Or poison, what did he know.

He paused to take a break, his thoughts drifting back to his time on the beach and the night he'd had. He thought of Ballad, the beautiful woman how had provided exactly the sort of distraction he had needed that night. Even though his head hadn't been in the right place Jupiter wished he could go back to that night. The fucking and the partying had been simple. Effortless. He did as he liked without thought for the consequences. The whole night had gone by in a flash. Once he'd gotten on a roll his troubles had been forgotten.

Jupiter frowned morosely. The beach was also the last time he'd gotten laid. He shook his head sadly and went back to work on the hide. He needed to stop thinking about the beach lest he work himself up and have nowhere to go with it. Focus, he chided himself. He had a project to work on and that, as his only action for the foreseeable future, was the best place he could focus his efforts.

WC: 811