Epitaph A dark form slipped unseen and unheard through the lands, making a beeline for familiar territory. Flitting through shadows and keeping within the undergrowth, his time away had made him more keen to being hidden. He had been away, but for how long? The days had blurred together, in his return to captivity. It felt like years, but he couldn't stomach the thought that he'd been gone for that long. He prayed it had been months, maybe even weeks, and his suffering had simply slowed the passage of time. The near dead weight of a useless limb slowed his movement from a dead sprint to a pace more alike a persistent trot. Nonetheless, he was moving, and putting distance between his abandoned captors and himself. Once he reached Abaven, he would be safe again. Right? He could return to Miss Shaye, and be with her and the girls again. They would be happy, and he would never have to remember the feel of teeth tearing into his flesh, or a hard stone floor against his belly at night. The familiar sounds of the birds that inhabited the Rustling Thicket were a sirens song, calling him ever closer to home. The snow that had blanketed the terrain as he'd moved didn't lessen as he grew closer to the heart of the eastern lands, which he knew was unusual. Beyond noticing the cool powder beneath his paws, he didn't spare it much thought. He was so close to salvation, and he wanted to be with those sweet girls he'd grown to love. He wanted to return to his den with Miss Shaye, and help tend to the pack he'd grown to love in the short while he'd been there. If he died the moment he fell asleep in their den that night, it would still have been worth it. The blood weeping from the pads of his paws, and the small, reopened wounds scattered across his body all rendered him a gruesome sight no doubt. The steady trickle of warm blood down his left foreleg had been nagging at him since he'd awoken, but he didn't have time to clean it up. He had neither the supplies, nor the time. He needed safety, from the wolves that were likely tracking him at this very moment. They had not been pleased to find their woman soundly asleep with her new whelps, without their captive midwife in sight. He was certain of that. When the tall foliage reared up before him, tears welled in his verdant eyes. He had made it. He was home again. Safely within the confines of the thicket, he let himself finally collapse from exhaustion. Dark limbs folded beneath him, and his breath escaped in a ragged, choked sob of relief. A few moments to gather his bearings, collect his thoughts. He was here, and everything was going to be okay. It had to be. He was so tired, both physically and mentally. Fear came as easy as breathing to the obsidian man, but he had clung to the memory of learning to love. Delicate cranium tipped back, he let loose a mournful, soft howl for Miss Shaye. His hoarse vocals turned the song to something breathy and harsh, hardly a call at all. "Speech"

Walking was a little uncomfortable these days, or a lot actually. Her hips ached and her spine twisted with every waddle, but each step was better than laying sloth in the den. She was going to ‘patrol’ every day she was able up until she gave birth. Which was practically any day. Her belly was gigantic, there was no question to her current state. Poem looked and felt like she was about to pop. Despite the difficulties in growing them, excitement resided with them in her belly. Any day now she and Sparhawk would welcome their new little bundles into the world.

Her husband might have been more excited about their impending parenthood than she was, he kept her well fed and cared for. She was more pampered than she had ever been in her life. Happiness was an aura around her. Poem faced multiple hardships throughout her young life but the lows made these highs feel like she was soaring.

Her pale paws carried her slowly as she waddled into the thicket, the day was bright and the snow covered the landscape. Poem was eager for spring. They were late into the winter, hopefully the pups would come late enough the cold wouldn’t be too worrisome. There would be no limit to wolves that would volunteer to warm a chilly puppy she was sure. The thought brought a smile to her features as the sound of an almost unfamiliar voice reached her ears.

Poem’s expression twisted, thoughts and memories she’d finally put behind her returned to the forefront full force. She pushed down the terrible feelings inside and just raced towards Epitaph. Tears were already running down her cheeks by the time she took her first labored step. He’d called for Shaye. ”Uncle Taphy!” Her voice was pained and relieved as she called out for him, blue and lavender eyes searching for his frail form.

Epitaph He wasn't left waiting long, thank the sky. For the precious moments he had, before he was discovered, he had set to work cleaning some of the congealed blood from his fur. He heard heavy pawsteps approaching, and the scent of a female wafting towards him. The dense thicket changed the way scents and sounds travelled, with the shifting air currents. It wasn't until he heard a harried cry of ”Uncle Taphy!” that he found himself choking back a thick lump in his throat, and the tears welling in his eyes threatened to fall. That was very much the voice of a grown woman, but there was no way... He fought his exhaustion back to rise to his paws again, nosing his way through the foliage until he caught a flash of grey and alabaster. He couldn't push himself any faster, with his limp hind leg bogging him down in the close quarters. "I'm here," he rasped, keeping his voice as steady as he could. He should keep calm, there was no need to worry anyone further. Carefully, he picked his way ever closer. He knew who it was, deep down, but he couldn't make himself believe that he'd been away for so long. Finally, a break in the thicket, and he could see her. He pushed his way through, and he felt a pang of sorrow in his chest. There she was. "Poem," he breathed, a sad smile coming to play at his dark lips. Tattered auds tipped back to his skull, not quite flattened. He couldn't help taking a moment to look at her, and the woman she'd become. She was big, in more ways than one. He found himself tilting his chin up to see her face, and the way the soft markings of white and black from her girlhood had become defined and elegant in adulthood. He had missed out on so much of her life, and her sisters. They were young women now, and Poem was very clearly about to become a mother. "you've grown." was all the dark waif could muster up to say around the tightness in his throat, rasping vocals grown even more hoarse with emotion. He blinked back his tears. There would be time for those soon enough. "Speech"

Panic, relief, and confusion buzzed in her head as she raced forward to find her lost uncle. He was so much more than that though, he’d helped to raise her as a child. She couldn’t count the hours she snuggled beside him and Motif and he told them stories. He curled around them during the scary thunderstorms and soothed them when Shaye or Rhyme couldn’t be there. Epitaph was a part of her, as much as Shaye and Motif and when he had gone a part of her heart had broken. She had looked for him as much as she looked for Motif when she had been taken. But that had been years ago.

Poem could hardly believe her ears, and as he began to crunch in the snow she heard his voice call back to her and she knew, this was Epitaph, finally returned to them. Poem continued, her belly swaying with every step but all of her aches and pains were forgotten as she went to her uncle. Despite the dense thicket they found each other, Poem’s tears ran easily. There was no way her pregnant self would have been able to hold back.

He breathed her name and took her in as she looked down at him. Exactly as she remembered except so much smaller. But really she was just so much larger now. In more ways than one. ”Taphy,” she couldn’t hold herself back and rushed forward. She would aim to grab him gently, wanting to wrap her arms around his shoulders and hold him tight like she hadn’t been able to since she was young. Tears poured from her eyes and she let herself go with the emotions. ”I missed you. I thought…” She thought he was gone. Like Shaye and like Motif.