[ ✸ ] golden slumbers.

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Awaking from slumber was always a task poorly met by the young sire; eyes gently lapping up misty moonlight like ever-thirsty saplings, a sweet and squeaky yawn slipping through dry lips. The Prince had been traveling, although it wasn't uncommon for the lad, he found himself oftentimes forgetting the art of preservation. Limbs moved tirelessly; stretching across unfamiliar lands until days became hours, hours became minutes, and then those seconds ticking away transformed into intricate moments he stored in his memory. 

Though he supposed there was a reason he was now doing what he was doing; standing out in the summer rain, letting the seasons take him in. Because despite his reckless ways, where others saw his outings as a duty, Flynn, well, he saw it as a hobby. A desire. He excelled in his work for many reasons, but there was no doubt his driving force was fueled by the wanderlust buried within his gullet. It's what brought him here in the present: standing near an overhang, sluggishly blinking away the droplets that caught in his lashes.

He could have sworn he'd heard something... Someone... Out there wandering a tad too close to his den, but slumber had already gotten the best of him. The boy, now slumped atop the roof of his home, had closed his eyes to the world and found himself drifting back into dreams.

—

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 It had been weeks since her queen had requested their watching, their close attention. Her desire for all males (except, she supposed, Remus) to be kept away from her during her heat had gone fulfilled and as far as Meissa was concerned, the Queen had encountered no males for more than a breath of word before she had shifted closer, keeping them away. At least, that's what she figured had happened.

 Truthfully, not a whole lot of guarding needed to be done. Celnes had stayed in the den for a fair share of the time and Meissa had taken as many of the shifts as she could, eating only what others brought to them and also checking all meat that was brought in for the queen. It had not been ordered, of course, but she had no desire to allow the queen to be sick from anything but her condition.

 Her condition.

 It was incredible that in only a few short weeks, there would be tiny forms to guard. Tiny creatures to look upon and dote over, watching from a distance at first until the queen brought them out for the pack to meet and devote themselves to.

 She became aware of her surroundings suddenly as she felt the cool drops of summer rain begin to land upon her face and pelt. She had been walking, thinking, patrolling she supposed. Not very well, if she only noticed the growing clouds now. She looked up at the clouds with a frown, water dripping into her eyes as she did so - stupid - and shook it off, continuing on her walk.

 Before long, the rain had built up enough that she wished to find shelter. She spotted a shadow up ahead, a shape of rock that held shelter over it, and headed towards it without hesitation. It was then that she noticed the prone form above the outcropping. Alarm shot through her, lulled slightly by the sight of his breath. She recognized this man, knew him by name although she had not had the chance to speak with him yet. “Flynn?” she called, voice a hint more alarmed than she meant it to sound. She cleared her throat and tried again, trying to sound a bit less concerned, more ... not quite playful, not quite mischievous. Honestly, she wasn't sure how it sounded, but at least it didn't sound mean or as if she was some flimsy woman fainting over the smallest rainshower. “You're getting soaked!”

 Did the man regularly let himself be rained upon? Was it part of some training, to grow used to all that nature threw at you? Was he simply so tired that he hadn't noticed the rain saturating his pelt?

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        The downy-headed boy hadn't been exactly sure when wide eyes had left her, no. All he knew was that when he'd first opened them — lids laced with rain-blurry lashes — that he'd thought her to be an apparition, a prayer on sweet waters. She stood in a halo of tears, illuminated by mist, singing out to him with bees upon her breath. The honey-sweet buzzing she hummed was as confusing as it was alluring, and the only thing he could muster was a perplexed whine. Never in his life had the lad heard a hymn written with his name in it; but she'd spoken it so beautifully, so dripping with nectar, that the very muscles in his legs pulled upward. He, well, perhaps he wasn't in his right mind at the moment. The lull of slumber still fresh on his breath as a shaken limb stretched forward, absolutely no regard to the lack of earth beneath his feet. 

Of course, he trembled with fear as he plummeted to the ground. Of course, he let out the most embarrassing, puppyish yelp his soul could conjure up. He sat atop himself for a second, sluggishly unfolding his body out of the bind he'd gotten into only to stand up, attempt a pitiful shake at the realization of water, and fumble back over. There was always a reason he slept alone, and the worst of it hadn't even been brought to light yet. The Prince simply wasn't a royal entering and exiting his sleep state; as if all things pathetic, all his inner (doofy) emotions erupted at once. He wanted it hidden, obviously. For who was he if not knightly, noble, and humble? Well. Truthfully, he was clingy, childish, and maybe a bit too curious about the parts of life that had nothing to do with him. 

Which was probably why, after finally regaining his balance, he walked outward... Right ear up and alert, left ear bent at its tip as it always did when he was like this. He supposed it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it didn't make him look any manlier. “Meissa?” He'd bat his eyes a few times, and honestly, he wasn't sure if it was because he didn't believe it was her, or if he couldn't believe she was even real. “Meissa...? Is... Oh, I,” But there was no mistaking her appearance, and he certainly didn't mean it negatively. “I'm so sorry, do forgive me if I startled you! I was just, uh, well...” Turning upon his hind legs, he'd jog lightly to his den, looking back every now and then to see if she was following. “Come on now, outta the rain!” No use in explaining what she could clearly already figure out herself. At least not out in the rain, anyway.

 

—

 

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 The cappuccino man reacted slowly at first, and then very suddenly. He had stared at her, and stared, and stared, and suddenly he was falling and she was rushing forward to catch him but too slow, he was already crumpled on the ground, thankfully not too wet to cause a splash in the growing mud beneath. The noise she had heard had reminded her of the softer, more playful times of her childhood - before she had realized her true isolation.

 She felt a pang deep within her and pushed it aside as she walked towards the man, already rising and shaking himself off. He seemed unsteady on his feet and she watched with concern, wondering if she should ask if he needed help - but then she decided not to. It would be an embarrassment, she was sure, for this seemed more to be an unsteady waking than caused by some injury.

 There was no hint of blood on the wind, no scents of fear or otherwise besides perhaps the softest breath when he had fallen. He was fine, or would be.

 At least, it seemed that way, as he approached her with ears askew in a way she could not help but note with something akin to amusement. He said her name once, then twice, and she tilted her head. Yes? He seemed to realize himself, shuffling over his own paws and words as he turned, calling her after him as he fled towards the shadows of what she supposed was shelter. He seemed to know it was there without having to search for it and, though the rain was beginning to refresh the odors of the area, she could smell him strongly here.

 Was this his home?

 She entered after him, pausing beforehand to shake off the majority of the droplets before entering. More rain would fall before she could get in, but she didn't want to make his home - if that was what it was - wet. The beast looked about the man's den thoughtfully, curious to the living situations of wolves who didn't den with the rest of the wolves in the Grotto. It smelled deeply of him, though somewhat faded as if he had been out for a time. Nevertheless, his scent was ingrained in the place and she felt a soft comfort in it.

 She let out a soft, wordless murmur of approval at the place before turning her pearly eyes back to the man. “Was it a good nap?” She said, referring to his nap among the droplets, a slight tease in her voice though there was truth there also: If one were in a deep, restful sleep, sometimes it could be difficult to be pulled from that rest. “Your den - ?” a pause of question before she continued, “Seems a cozier place for rest.”

 Meissa smiled at him, hoping to stop any thought that she might be mocking him. She pointedly avoided mentioning the fall, knowing well enough he wouldn't want it mentioned ever again. “I'd wondered why I hadn't seen you in the Grotto often,” if at all, really. It was her place of rest for the most part but that was mostly due to not feeling quite comfortable yet in claiming a spot to rest. Nevertheless, that point made her notice what scents laid heavily there.

[/narrow]
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---

Still, even after their bodies stood peacefully within the dimly lit arms of his home, he stared at her. He just... Well, he couldn't not stare at her. In all his time roaming vast lands, after the years he'd spent alone... No amount of oddities nor divine curses... He'd never laid witness to a being like her. 

-

Upon stone walls hung the gems of his journey; their hues of green, sapphire, and glittering gold. Honeyed moss draped elegantly over a single branch, blocking whatever light that didn't already dapple his floors from getting in. There were pelts... Yes, a'many furs that lined his walkways, all plush and worn, like that of a well-loved stuffed animal. He let these four walls take her in, all while he let his eyes gaze onward in adoration. He didn't know entirely why he'd done it, if it was the lack of sleep or the fact she called him as though they'd been friends their whole lives, but it didn't matter now... No.

Because he'd snapped out of it.

Back did the princely-hood wash over him, frantic movements as he attempted to straighten up his nearly-curly pelt. She was still talking to him, but he'd only caught about 75% of her words and it showed the longer he avoided the question. “Ah, yes, my den... It's um... It's been some bit of time since I've been here, actually. Surprised I haven't been looted.” He'd nod, taking a mere moment to look around at anything but her. It was as if the memories of his youth flooded over him, but they didn't last. They never did.

On did her words flow, and soon did that same feeling of curiosity cling to his hind. “The Grotto? Hm... I suppose even I need to separate work from home after a while, huh? Makes it easier to sleep.” Smiling handsomely (and awkwardly) did the male let out a half-lie. Though he supposed it was hardly a lie if no one knew it yet. “I must ask... What might you be doing out here yourself? Do you also den away from work? Looking for Remus?” Those two were a couple, right? At least that what he'd thought. Having seen them pestering one another like an old married lot had stirred the pot in his brain. Not that it was really any of his business. 

He couldn't lie to himself though, he was curious, and while a part of him didn't understand why he cared so deeply, the other half knew it was loneliness that plagued him. Despite having seen more than what some could say they've viewed their entire lives, Flynn hardly slowed down enough to let anyone in. Work followed him wherever he went, constantly on-alert to aid the only person he could remotely consider a friend. Now, now Cel was pregnant. He hated the feeling that word gave him. She would soon have little time for him, just as his mother did her, and his mother had done him.

That was fine, he'd be fine.

“Are you excited about the announcement of pups?”

—

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[narrow width=750]

 While he stared at her, she turned her attention to the heavily decorated walls of the den, a soft gasp escaping her lips. They were extraordinary, decorated with things she could never have hoped to dream of. She admired the stones, feeling the plush furs beneath and around her, and looked on with interest at the way he had chosen to decorate her den. Would she, one day, have a den as exquisite as this? Would she choose to have her physical garnishings removed in order to protect them in such a place as this?

 The woman exhaled and turned back to the man.

 “It's beautiful in here.” She mused, nodding towards the walls. “I... don't think many of the wolves I've met here so far would care to take anything, and I'm glad they haven't.” Perhaps not the wolves or the deer of the pack, if the deer even could make their ways in here. Crows or other such birds, perhaps? She wondered if they had ever managed to get in, though figured they must not have, for if they had then no doubt would they have come back with their friends to pick the place clean.

 Meissa chuckled at his statements about separating work from home. Had she ever had a home that was separated from her work? If she did, it was long past and heavily shrouded by the fog that took most of her memory.

 He asked of her reason for being out and about, asking if she was looking for Remus in particular. She looked at him, brow creased in confusion, giving a little shake of the head before going on, her brow softening once more. Despite their initial quiet quarrels - all seeming to be originated in his own inexplicable initial distaste for her - they were colleagues and pack mates but little more. She recalled the evening where they had discussed visions, where he had seemed to open up to her a bit. No, she and Remus were not a couple. “No - ah, I try to learn everything about wherever I live. I've mostly been sleeping in the Grotto and paroling during the day, haven't had much time to even think about making a den of my own yet.” Honestly, she wasn't sure where or how she would go about doing that. This den seemed well made and secure, but how would she know how to choose a spot?

 She envied Flynn in a way, the handsome man who seemed to have it all together... except when he was falling asleep in the rain and actually falling off of the roof of his house. Her lips tweaked in a smile - she wondered if they would ever be so close that she could mention it in a teasing manner. Ah, who was she kidding. Those she got close to always ended up leaving.

 Yet, she couldn't help the flicker of hope - the desire to belong and be able to banter.

 The topic changed onto the pups and she smiled earnestly. She had never met the father of the pups and while the stink had carried and carried and god was it awful, she figured the queen had to have some sort of reason for it. Perhaps the man was big and strong, or super intelligent (with that stink?), or even just had the right set of genes that the queen wanted for her heirs. “It'll be nice to have pups around,” she said genuinely, “I've always liked them, never had the chance to have any of my own so whenever I see any, I just...” She struggled for the words, for they were cloaked in a lot of strong feelings tied to mere glimmers of memory. She swallowed hard. “Just want them to be happy, I suppose.”

 “What about you?”

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        He'd watch her, endearingly as he always had. The cherrywood hue of her eyes catching the glow of every single gem she'd gaze upon, igniting that beauty she held like a kaleidoscope. It brought a warmth to his chest, to his face; all until the downy brush of his ears folded atop his head. She liked his work, “B-Breathtaking, aren't they?” And that had been the first time anyone ever had. “I've spent such a long while collecting them,” Legs rose shakily, stumbling over into the numbness he'd cast on himself from far too many minutes in an uncomfortable position.

“Do you see that one, that one there?” Momentairly closing the distance between them, broad shoulders touching her own, “That was the very first stone I found. I dug it up when I was hm... I think about 4 months old? It's hard to recall. Days were very long then.” His past slipped in and out of his mouth like hot water, and while he was thirsty for her attention, the heat made quiet lips ramble. 

“And that one there, I discovered it on a cliffside after I got lost in the rain!” Mossy optics darted to an opal, poking it with his nose before quickly turning back to see if Meissa was still watching, and of course, when she was, he practically knocked her over with the force coming off his back end. “And this blue one, it's called sapp...Air? Sapphire! Yes, yes, I found this one when I got lost hiking in the tundra. I had frostbite on my paws so bad when I came back, Cel had me off duty for a whole week!”

Laughter filled his muzzle, but a nervous air stuck his bones soon after. How could he be so fickle? “Oh, but, yes! Pups, um, den making!” To bore this... This poor woman with his words! A distant whine lingered behind his teeth, though his smile remained locked in place.

“Yes... Personally, I think I'd go mad if I was stuck watching Cel for too long, I've already been doing it the majority of my life now though. It's all I know, other than stones.” But who liked stones? Other than him, he supposed. It didn't take long for him to beckon her to follow him, though this time, it was to lay down. He curled up, legs extended outward towards her, tail looping around his side. They'd been standing for some while now, and he could only imagine how long she'd been out patrolling as he, too, would normally do. But today had been different. He simply wished to relax. “So, at least to me it made sense to move out, if you will,” Visionaries scanning his four tattered walls in distraught, “But it seems time got away from me.”

Although a pit of realisation was amounting in his stomach, he couldn't let that show. So he didn't. “I'm happy you like it here though, you can visit whenever you'd like, even when I'm out traveling. The place needs a new gem, after all.” A smile grew on his face, tail wagging in excitement only because in his head, he imagined the cheesiness of his compliment was successful. Maybe it had been, she hadn't let him yet. But then she brought up kids again, and it soiled him. “I... I don't know, honestly. I suppose I'll do what I always do when this sort of occurrence happens... I endure it. As long as the Queen is happy, right?” Because really, where was his glee?

“I must say, in my own opinion, I think you'd make a pretty family.” That was his glee. Seeing her happy. “I think you'd make a pretty wife, too.” Just... Not for him. “Speaking in which, any of these men, or, or ladies, I don't judge... Have any caught your eye? I don't even know what my type of person is.” Chuckling, the boy let out a whimper-of-a-yawn, voice cracking a little more each hour the night went on.

—

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 Meissa had noticed him staring at her as a heat spread across her own body. She was entirely unused to being focused on, admired, paid attention to as anything more than muscle for the cause. She tried not to look at him and betray her own heated face, instead putting a hang of a lot of focus into inspecting the stones and looking enraptured by them, hoping her pale ear tips weren't showing their red. Despite her focus, did think they were all very beautiful indeed, even if her thoughts kept flipping back to the man and oh god he was beside her now, the fur along her shoulder ruffled up by his as he talked about his first prize: a stone found in his youth.

 She understood the length of days, thinking back to the endless days and nights of waiting in her own youth... “That's incredible!” She leaned in slightly to peer at it, realizing with a start that by doing so, she had somehow moved closer still to the man before he had moved on to talk about the sapphires and the cliff side. When he looked back at her, eagerly like a puppy, she smiled and was unsuccessful in stifling a small laugh as his wagging tail took up far more space than it should have - but she liked it. “It's beautiful, how do you know the names? Do you name them yourself?” and her face softened with slight concern, “I'm glad you're alright now,” She couldn't imagine frostbite. Sunburn on the pads, definitely - she had experienced that often in her time in the desert.

 Thinking about heat, she noticed that the place where his shoulder had been touching hers felt ice-cold now, without his presence to warm it. The soldier nearly whined with the sudden desire to close the distance again, to press against him. In that moment, she realized something. She was touch-starved, not in a sexual way but in the very real, very natural way that a pack animal needs touch to survive. Yet, there were wolves she did not want to touch, to be anywhere near, and Flynn was not one of those.

 The man went on to talk about pups and den making. He did seem to talk a lot, which was actually excellent because Meissa much preferred to listen to him talk than have to figure out words herself, especially when she was reeling a bit over the instinct for closeness that was taunting her.

 She chuckled at his mention of the queen, noticing the nickname. She remembered the queen calling him cousin and wondered if it was a true blood connection or simply a title for long-time pack members. “Did you grow up alongside her?” Despite her respect for the woman, she could recognize that both the young man before her and the queen were younger than herself, though clearly within their primes. She grinned though as they made their way to curl up and rest aching legs. The loneliness in her cried out to lay beside him, like she had watched groups of wolves do in the past just to be near each other, but she struggled against it, settling with lying so her paws stretched towards him, just near enough on the sides to feel the residual heat. “It's the perfect getaway from everything,” she said, trying to distract herself and encourage him in the same breath. She gave a little laugh and looked back at the nearest stones, “and stones aren't a bad thing to know.”

 All she knew was be bisexual, eat hot meat, and die.

 He extended an invitation to visit and she smiled - and then he dropped the cheesy line and her face reddened again, this time absolutely extending to heat her ears. She laughed, unable to help herself, and pawed at his foreleg playfully. “Thank you.” It was successful, but so unused to compliments as she was, she had no idea how to respond. So... why not in kind? “I think it already has a pretty incredible gem.” Quick look at him and away, bashful.

 Then he seemed to sober as he spoke about the queen and her coming offspring and she watched him carefully, studying his green eyes thoughtfully as he spoke. He seemed... sad? He spoke of enduring and she frowned softly. “You should be happy too.” she said softly, almost a whisper.

 Again came a compliment, a comment on her possibility of a family, and she gave a soft chuckle, though there was a sadness inside it. “Ah, I don't know,” she twisted her head back towards her rear, scratching idly at the side of her neck with her hind paw. “I barely know anyone here yet, so it's too early to say.” She gave the wall a hint of a smile, shaking her head slightly as she looked back at him. It was true. There were... attractions, for sure, but she knew how unlikely it was for anything to ever turn in her favor.

 History told her that her type was the wolves who ended up leaving, either of their own volition or not.

 Then she gave him a mischievous smile, a brow raised, despite his last statement. “What about you?” Perhaps she was trying to stop thinking of her own failures in that regard, perhaps not.

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        He lay there, scruffy coat finally free of moisture, a heavy smile upon his oddly sullen face. He'd heard her speak, yes, but based on his glazed stare it was hard to process exactly what he'd taken in and what all he'd thrown out. Meissa hadn't been boring or unusual, nor excitable or dishonest. She'd been perfect. Just as in everything she'd ever done. Yet there he stayed, unmoving, dulled. It was as if every drop of energy had been spilled out of him, and while the commoner could pass his expression off as simple exhaustion, the gutted glare that flickered in his iris spoke volumes.

But still, did she speak, and still, she required answers. “No, no, I won't take credit for their names, I learned most of them from the people where I found them... And my da.” His da had taught him a lot about life, but mostly about how much the world would hate him. Sort of like Cel. “And yes, but also no. Cel helped raise me once my parents vanished. She told me I was special, she used to make me feel so special.” Slowly did his golden crown fall, gingerly resting on tired paws. “I... I don't know. I've been here for such a long time, at least that's how it seems.”

Muttering, coughing softly. He... Wasn't starring at her anymore but through her. Green optics muddled with memories that danced with palms closed towards hateful skies. Their mouths were open but nothing came out, their lips peeled as if screaming, yelling, crying. He never knew why they looked like that... Why did Meissa look like that? So disappointed in him? 

What had he done?

“I... I didn't mean to upset you, I was just being honest. I've met so many people but nothing ever felt right to me... Or maybe it did and I doubted myself. It's all so hard to understand sometimes.” Everything was hard to understand. “I've met pretty people with lovely personalities, but ultimately I sit counting fish and watch them swim away with someone else. It's just... They deserve better, you deserve better.” Ears swiveling, legs pulling close, the boy closed his eyes. Blinking several times, trying to shake the hellish feeling that held him with nails and teeth. 

An ungodly minute passed, then, with a jolt, the man gagged, choking on air that was already in his lungs. “Gods, I, forgive me, I guess I was sleepier than I first thought.” And like that, he was back. Tail wagging, a smile tugging at his lips as he reached forward to place his paw atop hers. There was a moment of silence between them as he looked onward into her sights, a silence so deep that it threatened to crawl from his pupils and latch onto her own. A plea. “If... If you want, you can stay the night... I'd be flattered if you did. Unless I guess, you want to go back out into the elements.” Wind cracking, rain drizzling, chest full of sluggish laughter.

The Prince, resting his head alongside her, would crumble and fall into slumber.

[ exit ]

—

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 As he spoke, she realized something that she kicked herself over overlooking before. The man was exhausted. Of course he was! He'd fallen asleep in the rain of all places, he was absolutely knackered. She felt terrible for making him feel the need to talk, for asking him things that needed answers. Still, even his sleepy voice was nice to listen to. It was nice to learn about the quiet man who flitted about like a deer on errand, always a shadow, always in hiding.

 She noticed. "Used to." Her eyes softened and she began to lean forward to offer some sort of physical comfort, a reassuring nose, but he was already moving, placing his head on his paws.

 He apologized and she shook her head, blinking in confusion. “You didn't,” she said softly, and in response to everything being hard to understand: “It is.” It was. How couldn't it be? Life... it twisted and turned and she was never sure where it was taking her. From her childhood, tucked away with her parents and her brother... to the swamps where they fled from chaos in hopes of finding a new home... to the new home for but a month before being shipped away to the desert... to falling in love and having it stripped away before it could even be truly reciprocated. To waking here, knowing nothing except memories that felt flooded and wrong and lacked details except for pain.

 Nothing made sense.

 She watched as he tucked in, closed his eyes, and she could not help herself. She leaned forward and pressed her nose against the side of his face for a moment, whispering, “So do you,” before pulling back moments before he gasped back into waking. She met his eyes, trying to match his smile as he wagged his tail and placed his paw upon hers. The dam had broken, the threshold crossed. “I would love to.” she said, truthfully, and rose slowly to come closer and lie beside him, so that his side pressed into her own.

 Then she, too, lay her head down, across his neck if he let her, and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her into its sweet embrace.

---

Exit! She spoke minimally because she realized he's falling asleep haha

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His gems' presence, while unexpected, was welcomed wholeheartedly. Gentle nuzzles, faintly heard sounds of squeaks as tired furs gradually, greedily latched onto her.

Tonight he hadn't need to worry of monsters that lingered in his mind, as he was protected from those both behind his lids and those beyond them.

“Goodnight, love.”

[ exit v2]

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