downfall of us all
Winter was slowly coming to the lands of Alacritis. Autumn was here, and yet it was on the verge of departure already -- the once brilliant landscape was slowly losing its color, no longer dappled with oranges and yellows and res, but instead the frost had begun to seep into the earth and turn everything a dull brown. And with the changing of season, came other changes, and truthfully the Queen of Seracia wanted nothing more than everything to return to how it had been at the beginning of the season.
She was beginning to show signs of pregnancy. Once again, her belly was slightly distended, and her scent had changed subtly. It was not obvious from a great distance, but up close all the signs were there. Part of her was eager to meet her children, and she was quite grateful that she lacked the nervousness that had accompanied her first pregnancy; she'd had no idea how it would be to really be a mother. Now, Epiphron was certain she could handle children, even if it was burdensome and stressful. But she lacked the excitement she knew she ought to have felt, but she was determined to not let it show -- especially to her children now, who were still unaware of the fact that siblings would soon be given more brothers and sisters.
A sigh left her lips. She was content to be alone for now, and as she slowly made her way toward the lake, she would let the proverbial crown slip from the skull and she would nearly collapse at the water's edge, curling up on her belly and letting her head rest on her forepaws. It took all she had to hold back tears. Never was she an emotional woman, never too expressive -- and yet she couldn't help it now. She felt like she was failing Seracia. She had lost two wolves after sending them to aid Valhalla, and though she trusted Syrinx would try to return them to her, she couldn't help but feel as though she was the one to blame.
The bastard pup gave an aroo with a toss of his head and picked up with prize that he'd imagine would lay twitching for him to savor. Miss-matched eyes noticed his surrounding now as he looked around to get his bearings towards home, the forest with the carved up trees. Nako dropped the pinecone and took to going towards the scent of water and fish bones, the chase making him end up on the other side of the lakes thin forest. It was passed through in a moment, Nako closing his eyes and savoring the winter gust of wind before opening them to see a packmate laying in the snow. A involuntary whine was given by the pup as he began to warily pace around this foreign female. Nako gave a nervous aroo with slight opening of his maw to let her know that he was there so he wouldn't startle the white female.
Her moment of weakness would be short-lived, albeit rather necessary, as the scent of another reached her nostrils. Unwilling to let herself be seen openly moping, she would stiffen her posture and uncurl her body, straightening out and attempting to raise her head a bit taller. Soon the scent grew stronger as the boy approached, beginning to pace around her.
It was a strange child, one of the boys being raised by Tahlia -- one of Bane's children. Right. Her eyes scanned him, from his grey pelt to the feathers that seemed permanently woven into the fur of his neck. He certainly looked like his father, and though she had a bad taste in her mouth at the mere thought of the exiled brute, she would not let that taint her vision of this young one. "Nako, is it?" she questioned gently, having heard about the boy from Maverick. She wondered vaguely how it was for him knowing his father was not allowed here, but she figured he was too young to truly comprehend the seriousness of those circumstances. "How are you doing today, young one?"
Another shape moved at the corner of her vision, and the scent was immediately recognized as the yearling, Rohini. Though still small, she looked much healthier than when she had first arrived her. It seemed Epiphron had not stifled her sadness so well -- she was not as much of a blank slate as she had hoped -- as the girl quickly moved to her side and began to groom her gently. It was a strange gesture, but one that was soothing nonetheless. It reminded her simultaneously of something her father would've done, or her children; and the girl was hardly an adult. "Thank you, Rohini," she would murmur softly, pleased by the girl's thoughtfulness and compassion.