Deep, deep down

Deep in her sleep, the girl would dream – of her youth as a pup and the warmth of her tiny head against either of her mother’s breast, slow and steady heartbeats being the only comfort if she’d known any during childhood. Then, cue the look of horror on her face when news of her parents being taken by humans – now Cynefrid had no one to call family except for the rest of the pack. Yes, their opinions differed at times and there were moments where she’d even felt left out. Still, painfully so, she loved them all with compassion that hurt at times – especially during the initial pack’s split, then the next. Everyone was leaving her once again and the nurse had no say in it. ‘Please don't go....’ Cyne’s feeble voice called out. To her kings, her packmates, her beloved bard.

‘Don’t leave me again…’

Kingslend

Gentle wine-colored hues awoke in the dead of night, almost seeming to illuminate like the glow of the moon’s reflection. She’d not been woken completely yet, and could only peek lazily from the tucked ball she curled herself in. Where was she?

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Many visitors seemed to visit, and she couldn't deny growing a bit.. Tiresome of it all. Though there was others to answer these callings and, awakenings of sorts. The Queen though, always as welcoming, but she couldn't deny her smile that was a greeting of sorts started to hold a rather cold tone to it, and voice at times chilly. Though not an exact ice queen just yet, she still tried to hold in a regal matter while finding these vagrants through the lands. 

A thankfulness of sorts, however, as many seemed to never wander farther then the wisterian woodland. Like the red carpet, the petals dropped into a grace as she gingerly stepped her paws onto each step, a pumpkin gaze of curiosity of sorts - who else, was within these woods? Célnes parted a dangling branch, full of the vibrant red flowers that clung to the willow tree. A slight graze ruptured a variety of fallen colors, and when she peered through; "Cynefrid?"

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The dark-sepia blur of a female that came to greet her, even call out her name -- she was unrecognizable at first. Even with her eyes half-lidded to see, it was as if the medic was still in a state of REM sleep. There was not enough blood flowing through her head to fully awake yet, and only a groggy hybrid of a whine and sleepy pleadings was given in response to let the blur know she recognized her name -- her voice. Colors of hanging scarlets didn't do much justice in helping Cynefrid regain consciousness, so stubbornly would the girl struggle to her feet and approach the dark figure herself. Orbs of luminescent pumpkins soon peered from the dark femme as she got closer, and a warm, saddened smile painted the doctor's maw soon after.

Another hallucination -- she'd assume. They usually came during the times where Cynefrid was in her deep pits of despair.

"Celnes my dear, what are you doing here?" the fawn whisped, gentle with her soft words "You can't convince me that things have come to an end. I don't want to be left alone again...please...just stay a while longer..."

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Cynefrid was a cousin, though not directly her own, rather Corliss's and Calhounds. Though nonetheless, for the Queen she thought as the other as family, despite how.. Unholy, she was speckled with. Beloved in the way she looked like a newborn fawn, beauty in pale orange-browns, and ruby eyes that stood out amongst them all. Though, speckles ever so lightly, one would almost not notice the white dots frolicking her back. She truly, looked like a white-tailed deer.

How long has it been since she saw her?

Since Kingslend. A previous rule of the Queen, who once was called King. So was their custom, that regardless of gender, they were referred to as so. So normal to the Déorwine's, but they didn't know how different it was toward the rest of the world. So judged and mocked, customs questioned and lives different. Though together? They prospered and tried, but in the end, even that came at a loss.

"Cousin," Célnes whispered downwards, nudging her so, "you are not alone, this is a new home. A new name, and a new legacy.. You are in Elkshire."

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"Cousin," wisped the ghostly brunette, far and echo-like despite her proximity "you are not alone, this is a new home. A new name, and a new legacy.. You are in Elkshire."

Ah, it was Elkshire now, was it? 

Elkshire, Antlerford, Velvetkeep -- what was her ghost on about this time? She knew not of any named or aligned towards Elkshire as Kingslend would always and forever be her home. The ghost was trying to make Cynefrid forget and get over the past to move on like it always did -- like it always existed to do, but Cynefrid would not falter. The doe would find her family and start anew -- and she'd die trying if needed. The disembodied voice telling her to give in would not win.

"My conviction is set in stone and nothing will change," she said, softly but firmly, to the blurry figure. Her head shook a few times, and disorientation was clear in her velvet depths. "I will find my family with the guidance of the high elk, and you will not barricade me into your trap to test my fate once more. I am no fool to your ways..." And there it was, she'd said what she said with an affirmative huff to finish, but....they were still there? Her hallucinations usually disappeared after she rejected them, but this one still lingered for some reason....

No matter! She'll just leave herself.

"N-now, If you'll excuse me..." The doctor finished while attempting hastily to brush past the ghost -- but she could tell something was off. This was no spirit, she could feel. The shoulder and body she expected to disappear into thin air when brushing past it...provided warmth, and a wall of solid skin and fur the dame could feel -- Cynefrid froze.

and her gaze became owlish in shock.

"C-Celnes...?" surely she'd been dreaming. Her search prolonged for months that the thought of finding her cousin here made her stomach drop, but just in case, she looked and peered deeply into the glow of pumpkin that were her eyes -- until the blur began to materialize.

A stream of tears came to flow from her gentle gaze, and her muzzle pushed into the fur of the woman she hadn't seen in so long...

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Her cousin was soft - someone who valued their family and had a lot kindness in her heart, that most Déorwine did not hold. She wondered if it was because her parents shielded her so much, even with the stains splattered on her back, she didn't have that much abuse compared to the rest of the white-stained family members. They looked faded enough to be accepted as a 'cream' of sorts, as some would assume if did not look close. Even she at some point did not realize it until the new-home came to be. Now, Cynefrid was delusional, a life after all had fallen, and Kingstead disappearance as well..

"It is me." Though brushed against, she was no delusion. The Queen held a smile, looking at her cousin with a fondness and kindness - a patience of understanding. She too had fallen into the depth of sadness upon entering this land alone. Though for the medic, she was no longer alone.

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Tears turned into sobbing soon, and blood flowed forcibly to her head as she let a river flow into her cousin's shoulder. The soft dame was too overwhelmed for words -- broken and tattered from travel, even unaware of the life that had been taken from her in past by exhaustion. What she had traveled so far for, moved mountains to find -- it was here. "Celnes! I'm sorry, I didn't know..." she forced through heaving, yet she had the strength to calm down just a bit. At last, she would pull away from her cousin's breast bone to take a breather and laugh out the rest of her welled emotions, a warm smile curving her lips to look at the king again. "I'm just...happy to see you again, is all."

There was a moment of silence that filled the air around them after she separated. Her gentle gaze looked to one side, then the other -- then finally, to her cousin to innocently ask. Ignorance in her bright smile: "Is your brother here too, dear? You two are practically attached to the hip! I'm surprised you came here alone..."

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---

Upon a flat, damp rock, posied with peace and relaxation; the young Prince was unnoticeable from where he sat in the trees' carmine curtains. He allowed the gentle current of smooth waters to paint his hazel reflection, their brushes light and delicate, just as the very furs that lined his cheeks. He wished he could say he came here on his own accord, but he'd never been the type of man to lie, most importantly, not to himself.

He'd been listening, yes, though that hadn't been where his plans were intentionally going. By his side, now slightly cold, lay a plump duck; its breast stuffed tenderly with milk thistle and thyme. While the boy was no healer, his traveling legs had brought lessons to his sight almost regularly.

Just as he'd learned the lesson of patience.

His Queen had been reunited with family, oh how joyous she was, with her joy brought a charming smile to his dark lips. 

Now, sitting slightly in view, the male would nod.

He could wait.

—

---

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She comforted Cynefrid, cooing like a mother to the fragile girl. She always so dainty and light, a medic in heart and heart, without the discrimination as the family does. Only when she pulled away did Célnes gain a proper look at the other - for she was alive. It had been some time since she had seen other family, though some may arrived (Flynn, Corliss, Thistle), it was definitely voided of the usual Deorwine's. Even though soon, with the litter arriving, they would no longer be outnumbered. "As am I."

"I'm afraid he has passed, cousin," a solemn smile, but as time has passed for quite some time, there was no tears, for they dried many moons ago. A sigh escaped, for while they were once attached, now she was alone to the factor. At least there was some familiarity, as a gaze set to the man who sat far away with a prize to the ground. He was similar to Cenric, maybe not in personality, but always being around. She valued him in that way, even if at times it was exhausting, it did bring a sort of comfort to the Queen.

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Oblivious she was -- for the news of her beloved cousin's death was not what the naive woman would've expected to come out of the king's mouth. Especially not with such causality. Though something like this was to be expected of Celnes -- reserved, always ready to put up a strong front for the sake of her kingdom; Cyne couldn't imagine such a prideful woman to break down in such a way in front of everyone -- not even herself. Even so, the news stung her fragile heart -- devastated to know that family she searched for no longer walked the earth with them.

No words were spoken, but the smile turned pained grimace told it all. Again she would embrace her cousin, this time wrapping her forearms around the elken king to pull her close. Cyne felt on the verge of tears with the knowledge of Cenric's death, but the one who must've hurt the most could've been none other than his own sister. So the fawn's cousin was held close to provide her comfort. Crying was not something the nurse expected Cel to do, but no one was immune to the burden of loss. Thats what she believed....

Her cherry wine gaze then flickered over the King's shoulder to peer into the moss green depths of a man, and his prize beside him. Farmiliar eyes, farmiliar scent -- not of the Kingslend built upon the foundation of the teekons, but of a far more distant memory. Buttermilk and hickory perfume.

Ah!

"Flynn?"

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---

There was something honouring in the way she called his name; the light flickering in her eyes as if she had kissed him upon both cheeks simply by looking at him. It brought a hot heat to his face, darkened ears folding upon his crown in a greeting of respect but also in means to hide his embarrassment. How was he to expect she'd remember? Especially when no one else had? “Lady Cynefrid, it has been some time, hasn't it?” It was hard not to get bashful around someone as holy as her, she truly had the authority to put him in his place whenever she pleased, but she never did.

“My, you haven't aged a day.” She hadn't, he was sure of it. “It's a great relief having you here, I trust your skills will find us well.” They were suddenly in rather reliable hands, not that much of the ailing nature happened in Elkshire, but it was never an excuse not to have the best available, especially now with the Queen pregnant. He hadn't forgotten about the duck, sitting it down by his feet and nodding it off to Cel. He doubted she'd want it by now, but it was the thought that mattered.

Besides, if she didn't eat it, he was sure someone would.

—

---

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Oh her dear cousin, far too gentle for this world. Even though her own tears had dried up months priors, Cynefrid would continue to cry when the Queen would not - and could not. A vulnerable state to put herself in, a weakness that came from a weak ruler who let emotion control overall. She did it once, took her time to mourn her brother whom she adored so dearly. A bond she held so close, for when the two were neglected by their dearest mother, the only comfort was their sibling bond. Even if the younger siblings came, it was not the same.

The two were thick in blood from the sins they carried - and now those same sins would be only her burden. She could not continue mourning Cenric, especially as she knew he would want her to thrive.

Though she not need to, Cynefrid brought the love out of men even the most devoted of them. She may have been coated in white spots- but her dainty nature and so close to a deer look, she was beloved in that odd way. 

"Not all may have found us, but some have." Her voice to the two, as Flynn may not have been in the second Kingdom they have built; he found them in the current. Likewise, though not many were to find themselves in Elkshire.. Gradually family was coming home.

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